[Brother Grimm]

 
Where is He?

The question had remained on the tips of many a tongue, wondering where He had been ever since the entity known to the public as 'Brother Grimm' had vanished seemingly from the face of the Earth well over a year ago. His last encounter before the public eye, namely the wrestling fandom that was beholden to Sin City Wrestling, was a rare tag team encounter where He had teamed with the then-future World Heavyweight Champion, J2H, in a successful effort against two less than fortunate souls in C.J. Sharpe and Eric Steele. It was seen as an unusual circumstance at the time, as only too recently J2H had been the target of the cradle-snatching 'Boogey Man' and his cohort, the fabled 'Black Woods Witch' known as Baba Yaga.

That was, until J2H cut them a deal and saved his own soul by selling out another to Grimm, namely that of Tim Staggs, son of SCW Hall of Famer, Spike Staggs.

Their team had been victorious, and both had even ventured further on the card to the Gauntlet match where J2H had started a dynasty by becoming the longest reigning World Champion in SCW history. But once Brother Grimm had been eliminated in the gauntlet match, He had simply vanished as the early morning fog in the rising sun of the morn. Some had wondered if He had gone back to where He had come from, wherever that was. Others believed instead that He had held out in negotiations for a newer and better contract to the staff of SCW, but few believed those rumors. And the wrestling 'rags' ran by so-called armchair "experts" were strangely silent on the subject, whether by choice or coercion. Where the answer to this intriguing mystery was surprisingly simple.

Even that which dwelled within the darkness deserved a vacation every now and then.

German Valley -- Eastern West Virginia

By this late hour, the sun had already descended from the heavens, blanketing the sky with what was once clear, blue skies and no clouds, to a deepened hue of dark blue, almost black; the only illumination being that of the multitude of stars and the waxing moon that was not yet in its full phase. And while the day had been warm and clear, now the air held the usual nightly chill to it, and a single gray cloud wafted across the horizon, threateningly to eclipse the view of the stars and moon by wandering eyes below.

Only here, there was just the one. Aged beyond years and wise in mind to match. At this hour, the public was not allowed to venture so near this attraction, but she was not a member of the general public, and cared little for what mortal authorities deemed appropriate or lawful. After all, for centuries she turned children into roasts and soups and such for her dining pleasure. After so much time in doing so, it only served to prove that one tended to care little for what we as a modern society such as we would call the norm.

She approached the mesh gate that surrounded the area, the better to protect those that might wander too far in or not be aware of where exactly they were headed or the danger that lied just within. After all, what had she to fret over? Falling? The wildlife which included the heaviest population of Virginia big-eared bats in the entire world? Please! All that was less than a trifle where one such as she was concerned, whereas the general populace might have heeded the warning signs of which there were plenty. A casual flick of her finger and the gate swung open and she strode through, the last sign her rheumy eyes beheld was one that read in bold print, "Make Peace With God."

Baba Yaga openly scoffed at the very notion, wondering privately to herself if one of the park's staff had placed that there as a further precaution to the various tourists and explorers who came this way, or if someone had lost a loved one due to an accident and took the notion themselves. It mattered little. He was waiting, or to be more open, He was attempting to avoid her. It was a pointless attempt, and deep down she knew He understood this. The workings she had used to free Him from the Romani imprisonment also bound Him to her. She knew where He was at all times and she did so prefer to keep close tabs on her investments.

She passed through trees, shrubbery and bushes alike as the eyes of the world's nightlife peered through their cautionary hiding spots, for they could sense the darkness that wafted from her. Owls, foxes, coyotes and felines all avoided coming anywhere close to her, even though their curiosity was piqued by this new arrival to their wild territory. She walked until at last she came upon the opening in the ground; a large, funnel-shaped hole at the base of North Fork Mountain that descended into pitch darkness. A strong cable ran down from a winch, used by workers and spelunkers to lower themselves more than one hundred and fifty feet. Her iron gray hair blew gently in the wind, as did the dark, ankle length robes that reeked of brimstone. She held her shawl in place with one aged hand as she peered over the edge and into the vastness below. Of course, she could see nothing but she knew that He was down there, somewhere. She could practically smell him.

With a shake of her head, her indifference towards his melancholy tactics, she was suddenly standing down in the vast chamber at the very bottom of the shaft that cave experts would descend to. With a raising of her hand, the lights used by workers suddenly turned on -- and a swarm of bats blew through the caverns deep within! Bats by the hundreds darted forth, fearful from the surprise at the sudden eruption of light. And Baba Yaga simply stood there, watching the art of their aerial dance while they flew around her, never coming close to actually touching her, and right up the shaft and into the night sky above to hunt. Once the final bat vanished from sight, her eyes lowered and back to the interior of the aptly named Hellhole.

Her eyes, light gray in nature, roamed about as she looked to where she might best be headed. She knew He was further within, somewhere deep. The pit cave was perhaps the seventh deepest in the United States and more than forty miles in length throughout the multitude of tunnels. She wouldn't be surprised if a lengthy number of unfortunate souls had lost their way in the system of tunnels, never to be seen again, but she would have been surprised if whomever used the Hellhole for tourism purposes publicly acknowledged such atrocities. It was simply the human way; don't acknowledge the frightening and it would go away. Fact or fiction, it didn't matter. It simply was.

Knowing there was little reason to indulge her own innate curiosity to look about, she took that first step forward. The deepest cave in these tunnels was known as "Little Hellhole," and she also knew that this would be where He made his "nest" as it were. And further and further down she went, showing surprising stamina for a woman of her ancient years, until she finally stood in the small cave. She glanced around at her surroundings, taking note of nothing terribly interesting. They were rocks of all sizes, and fire danced on the walls in the darkness for her eyes to see. For mortals to be so easily entertained by simple rocks defied explanation to her. But it was not the rocks on the floor, nor the sharp ones that jetted both up from the ground or descended down from the roof of the pit, that interested her. Further along and against the farthest wall, the surface was smooth and unyielding. She stared at that very spot for several long moments before a voice, soft in tone but echoing in the resounding pit, spoke aloud...

"I know you're there." Grimm said from wherever He had holed Himself up in the walls of this pit. "Is there a point to this visit or am I not allowed to have a bit of time to myself?"

"Time has little meaning to one such as yourself." The Blackwoods Witch replied as she took a seat in her rocking chair that suddenly found itself in the cave. She picked up her ever-present knitting and continued to speak, "And you have had this 'time to yourself' for months now, and I have honored that. Respected it, even."

"But...?"

Baba Yaga casually went to work on her woolen project as she said, "But ... you are behaving like a petulant child."

"Is that your coy way of inviting me to dinner, madam?" Came the reply from behind the solid surface of the wall. "As the main course, I mean."

Baba Yaga scoffed back at His dry wit. If she didn't know any better, she could have sworn He had just made an attempt at a joke. She instead choice to avoid taking His bait and said, "And all just because you did not get as you wanted."

"Which was entirely your fault."

"I do not deny having a hand in what happened." She said casually as her fingers worked the knitting needles crafted from human bone. "But it was all for a good purpose."

"So you say." Came the hushed voice. "But you have yet to explain yourself."

"How could I?" She asked. "The moment the deal was struck, you stomped off like a spoiled child who did not get the Yule gift they had their heart set on..."

The wall of the cavern suddenly exploded, throwing rock and dust everywhere! Through the dust and dirt stomped the white specter known by many names over the eons, but known to her as Brother Grimm. A name she had in fact chosen for Him during the binding ritual. A bit of fun, if you would. An agitated look on what would have been a handsome face on a mortal man, Grimm stormed over across the cavern until he stood over the witch who remained unfazed by his emergence. The rocks and dust came nowhere near her.

"I grow weary of your impertinent attitude, witch!" Grimm growled. Perhaps what bothered Him most was the fact she was not afraid, not at all. "And I grow even more tired of being compared to common food!"

She, however, made Him no apologies. Her hands stopped at their knitting and her eyes cast upward to His own amber colored eyes. She spoke in a crisp, casual tone, "You know me well enough over the years that I do nothing without reason, no matter how insignificant a choice might be perceived."

"Oh I am certain that you had reasons for doing what you did." Grimm shook his head, His eyes narrowing. "But I would be damned if I were to say that I understood them."

"Pun intended?" Baba Yaga asked with the wisp of a smile on her lips.

"No." He answered. "Lucky coincidence."

"I have news." She said, casually changing the topic of conversation between them.

"News." He repeated. "And this would be the reason behind your visit to disturb my hibernation?"

"It would. I have been thinking, about your entering into this special event your old 'haunt' is hosting."

Grimm turned away from her, showing her His back and he stalked away a few paces as he said, "I still do not know how you managed to talk me into this ... spectacle."

"I didn't exactly have to twist your arm." Baba Yaga countered. "Not when you found out that young Timothy Staggs' stepmother was herself involved. A bit of play, I believe you said?"

Grimm stood rigid, and His head turned only far enough so that He could cast a glance back over His shoulder at her.

"I simply wished to get close to the mother. Misty." He said. "These 'tag team' encounters have little interest to me, pairing myself side by side with some meat sack on the mortal coil..." He sneered as he thought back. "I was barely able to tolerate being teamed with Goth, but at the very least he proved himself worthy AND interesting. He was..."

Grimm paused in thought as he sought the right words for what was going through his mind.

"...he was something more." Grimm's golden eyes then flicked towards her and he whispered, "But this? If you think my interest has anything to do with the rewards or honoring the ghosts of the past..."

Baba Yaga held up a hand and said, "Perish the thought. And at the very least, you will be more than just close to Misty."

"Of which I have you to thank."

"A trifle, nothing more." She smiled. "I know you also enjoy a bit of chaos and it amuses me to think what will become of this little pairing between yourself and the mother of your target. And should young Timothy show up to cheer his stepmother on...?"

"Nothing will come of it." Grimm turned around completely so that he might face her. "You saw to that."

"A fact that I would have expected you to appreciate." Baba Yaga stated. "You do so enjoy the art of making a deal."

"Yes, when it benefits me." He shook his head with a sardonic smile on his black lips. "This, does not."

She sniffed back a soft laugh, and picked up her knitting again to continue as she replied, "Not everything is about you, dear. But as I said, I have a bit of news. And this news does center around you."

"Then out with it." He huffed. "I would like to get back to my rest at some point."

"You've had centuries of rest in that cage I found you in." She replied. "You have plenty of time for such trivial wasting of time later. For now, your first encounter with Misty is at hand in Detroit. A first round match in this tournament I entered you in."

"And the opposition?"

"A brash young male by the name of Kris Halc." The witch answered. "And a female named Polly Playtime."

Grimm frowned. "Please be serious madam." He said. "There is no fool with such a name."

Baba Yaga said as she started to rock back and forth in her chair, the ancient wood creaking audibly with the acoustics of the cavern, "Yes because I am ever so famous throughout the tales of my sense of humor. This young woman has such a name. I imagine to lure opposition into thinking her silly and a fool but she is anything but."

"Classic bait and switch." Grimm shook his head and turned away to examine the gaping hole in the wall that had been solid only a moment ago. "And I am well aware of Halc and his past accomplishments. He held this 'Internet' championship until the man-child bested him."

Baba Yaga added, "And only recently the World Tag Team Championships with his flesh and blood. And the woman, Polly?" Grimm turned his head to listen with rapt attention as the witch fed him the information, "She surprisingly held the women's version of the Internet title for an even more surprising amount of time."

"Interesting." Grimm whispered softly as he stood straight up, his fingers wrapping themselves around a small stone with jagged edged. "They sound as if they might prove themselves an interesting challenge." he huffed in what would almost be construed as a sigh of indifference. "I suppose I should make ready and head for this ... Detroit."

"Not just yet." Her voice gave him pause and his snow-white eyebrows that almost blended in with the pale flesh of his body rose.

"Oh?" He asked. "You have something more to add."

"Just a wisp of a suggestion." She smiled. "You know I venture out of my cabin for only the rarest of circumstances. To stretch my legs and have a small rest, myself. A vacation every now and then you might say."

He growled, growing weary of this idle chatter on her behalf. How mortal men endured this ritual daily was a fascination beyond his comprehension. "Do get on with it." He growled. "Your point...?"

"My point, dear..." She continued. ".. is that I won't be making the travels with you this time around. At least, not entirely and not unless you need me." This caused a frown to crease His brow. The witch was always nearby, even if it was just a hop, skip and a jump from her Blackwoods cabin. So this declaration that she would not be near at hand.

"And might I ask what brought this decision on?" He asked.

"A bit of help." She answered. "Part of me believes that I became something of a crutch to you. Oh don't get me wrong; I'll be near at hand if you should need me, but for this little event?" She glanced up from her knitting and smiled in an almost taunting manner. "I do think what you are in need of is a bit of companionship. With a young woman."

Grimm's head tilted forward, towards her and the expression on his face was on that practically screamed that he either misheard her, or misunderstood her. "Companionship." He repeated, more a statement than a question. "You must be joking!" He started to pace back and forth as his outburst disturbed more of the life that called these caverns home and Baba Yaga glanced casually up at the small, winged bodies that escaped through the ventilation shafts.

Grimm snarled, "I have seen mortals couple since the dawn of time! It is a sickening prospect and if you think I am about to..."

"Calm yourself!" She cackled, amused terribly by His offended outburst. "I was not suggesting that of a romantic partner because I am well aware the Pale One is incapable of romance. Or love."

"Both weak traits of even weaker minds." Grimm reiterated. He then tilted his head to the side, as an animal might, as he showed his curiosity had been piqued. "What then did you have in mind?" He asked. "And with whom?"

"I was thinking..." She mused, casting an upwards glance as if playing the role of the coy, old woman. ".. an Acolyte. You need someone at your side, dear. Someone who will do as you wish without question. A person that might assist you in service or procession. A tie, if you will, between yourself and the mortal coil. And wise as I like to think myself to being, I am smart enough to know that I can not be that link between."

"Then if you will pardon the expression, whom pray tell, did you have in mind?"

Baba Yaga glanced up to him and smiled....

... Almost five hundred miles away in the city of Detroit, a tour was happening at one of the famed haunted sites that drew many of the curious and sadomasochistic toward its macabre setting; the Northville Psychiatric Hospital. The soft footfalls echoed on the floors of the abandoned  complex, the high heels of very tasteful footwear clicking loudly as she made her way down the halls, walking past countless abandoned items of years past, such as wheelchairs, nurse's logs, gowns and stuffed animals. She cared little about the trespassing law handed down by the city of Detroit to discourage the so-called "looky loos," and a law that had netted almost six hundred arrests total. Her mind did not work that way.

She simply did not care.

Belladonna Grey walked the halls of one of Detroit's most haunted places, a casual, almost bored expression, on her face. She by passed an old nurse's station, her perfectly manicured fingernails trailing the surface and leaving marks from the layers of dust alongside the surface. The presence of the departed did not even so much as phase her, as she casually picked up the clipboard with noticeable stains that seemed of rust color and glanced at it, before she simply dropped it back to where she had picked it up.

Then, curiously, a soft breeze blew its way through the hall and it caressed what little bare flesh was exposed in her business dress. Her hair was done up so her neck felt the chill, as did her hands and calves. She did not so much as shudder from an experience that others might be sent running from. Belladonna merely turned around to face the direction the breeze came from, her brown eyes roaming. Perhaps a broken window? Yes, that must be it.

Belladonna started to walk further up the hall until she came upon the open double doors that led into an examination room where the mentally sick patients of years past were examined and treated, if one were to call the actions of the doctors that. Belladonna had her doubts and scoffed audibly in the empty halls. She then stepped inside of the examination room to have a look for herself ...

... And the doors swung shut with an echoing crash in the abandoned halls....



"Would you like to play game with me, Polly Playtime? Do you even like games? Oh I know; the lure of your silly name is but a farce as you bring opponents into the heat of combat against you, only to have them realize when it is too late that your name is but a tactic. A trick to lure them into thinking you a silly girl with an even more silly name. A trick that allows the women you face to understand far too late that Playtime is for you yourself, and not for them. Unless, of course, it be at their own expense. So I should think you and I could play a little game of 'Hide and Seek.' Do you really want to show up for this event, Polly? Do you really want to find yourself teamed with someone like Kris Halc? Do you really want to suffer again, what you suffered only too recently?"

"You have been awfully quiet ever since your recent loss, haven't you? Pity. To lose a championship after so much bravery and declarations against, it must be humbling to experience. It is a shame that you and I won't be able to play a game of chance between us. At least, not until our time inside of the ring has passed with our respective partners and opponents. I have no qualms at Misty monopolizing your time while I lay Kris Halc to rest. Misty is, after all, a veteran of the ring and she will have no issues at dealing you yet another blow to your ego if it comes down to her putting an end to this farce. Your time in this tournament will be at an end before it has even begun. And afterwards...?"

"Well, afterwards when we are alone, the true 'playtime' will begin."

"Nightmares, have you started to suffer them yet, I wonder? Oh Kris Halc, I can only imagine what your mind is telling you as you like awake at night, drenched in a cold sweat, pondering the mysteries of what is to come as the time draws near. Near to the moment where you know there is no turning back. Near to where you will open that closet door, stare into the darkness within, and realize with dread that the darkness is staring right back."

"You have an impudent manner about you Kris, a fact that I have come to appreciate. But if you think that your false bravado will protect you from what is to come, sadly it will not. Many a braver and more valiant warrior than you has thought the same before venturing against me, and many have found their resting places in my dark bag of souls. And you...? You are but another in a very long list of unfortunates who have crossed my path without comprehension for what truly lied in the shadows beneath beds and within closets. You sit here in the comfort of your home, speaking your mind on social media more than caring for your own family, and for what? Everything you say and do on this ... twitter .. is relatively useless save for attempting to get under the skin of strangers or opponents. An amusing and immature tactic for one that is lost, but a tactic that you will find baseless against me."

"Your time in SCW is well known, even to me, but as successful as you have made it, it has been worthless compared to that of others that surround you. Your reign as the Internet Champion has all but been forgotten by fan and peer alike. The only memory of it is a mere scratch in the footnotes of SCW's championship history. The man-child Despayre has all but made you forgotten where your reign was known. men such as Blackhart Bruce Evans and his 'coming out.' The sadistic 'Mental Rapist.' Even the former 'Sin of Wrath' was more notable for his reign than you were your own. And it followed itself some time later when your brother and yourself walked away with the same gold that I shared with Goth; the World Tag Team titles. Bravo for that, even though your reign was outlasted by the personal drama that was showcased time and again between your brother and yourself. A modern day tale of Cain and Abel, only without the bloodshed. Well, perhaps next time."

"I look forward to our time in the ring together, Kris. I look forward to your attempts to show your partner a good time by fighting against me in an attempt at the impossible. I look forward to the realization when it strikes you, and the beads of sweat trail down your face and body when you realize everything that you seek is for naught. I look forward to the sounds of your screams and the melody of bones breaking and souls being crushed ring in my ears, a tune I have often danced to. And once you find yourself having fallen from grace, tumbling off the pedestal that you yourself have placed yourself upon, I leave you with one last question to ponder in that sad, little mind of yours..."

"How is that darling, newborn baby of yours?"