The Grimm Diaries Prequels Volume 11- 14: Children of Hamlin, Jar of Hearts, Tooth & Nail & Fairy Tale, Ember in the Wind, Welcome to Sorrow, and Happy Valentine's Slay. (3 page)

“I heard Wolfy opened a bar,” Jack said. “Or a food place or something.”

“Yes,” Marmalade shook her head eagerly. “It’s called the Belly and the Beast.”

“Catchy name for a bookish boy who is always hungry,” Jack laughed.

Minutes later, they climbed down then started walking toward the Belly and the Beast.

Down there, miles away, by the edge of the forest, was the ramshackle bar Wolfy called the Belly and the Beast. Wolfy had opened it for two reasons. One, because he was always hungry; cooking and serving food and drinks kept his mind from thinking about killing and eating people – he still had a hard time controlling his urges on full moon nights, but that was another story.

The second reason was that Wolfy, guess what, was always
hungrrryyy
, and he wanted to eat Ladle Rat with a passion. He didn’t want to eat her because he was a Big Bad Wolf. Well, he might have been bad, but he was a young boy and he was not that big. Before he’d met Ladle, the other wolves in his tribe always bullied him because he didn’t want to hurt people and loved to learn the Anguish Language instead. A wolf, wearing glasses with a book in his hand didn’t really fit the image of the wolves’ species.

Wolfy didn’t want to eat Ladle because he wanted to hurt her. He wanted to eat her because he thought she’d be exceptionally delicious. Since he had met her in the forest, he was torn from inside. She was so lovely–-a bit too wacky, he admitted, if not totally off her rocker–-but he liked her the way he had never liked food … ahem… a lovely girl before.

She also had turned out to be Death itself, and she saved his ass from the
witchy granma
. In other words, she was the perfect girl for him. Badass, quirky, and she could relate to a boy who transformed unwillingly into a horrible wolf when the moon was full. What else could a wolf ask for?

But he only felt these dark urges from time to time. It was his nature, eating, gorging and gulping was all he was raised to do. When he was a baby Wolfy, his big brothers made him eat rabbits, only to sharpen his fangs. Delicious rabbits, Wolfy thought a couple of days ago while servicing his customers with food and drinks.
How about a big turkey, non-cooked, one that is actually alive when I eat it?

Wolfy never understood why humans had to cook food, adorn it, and eat from plates. Let alone say prayers and wipe their mouths after every bite. What was that all about? Where were the days when he used to snatch a big gazelle with his brothers, each one of them sticking their fangs in it and pulling it apart from all sides. Where were the days when part of the eating fun was to hunt the prey down? What’s with humans buying food from a shop? What was the fun in that?

He remembered when he and his brothers used to sneak into the King of Sorrow castle’s kitchen. They used to eat everything they got their paws on. Then when full, they would throw meat at each other for fun. A sausage once stuck in Wolfy’s throat and his brothers laughed at him as he choked. He threw raw meat back at them. It stuck on their face like a troll’s slap. They ended up pouring some brown sauce and sugary syrup on each other’s fur, and then gulped whiskey from a barrel. Wolfy never gulped whisky. He had always loved milk, and that was why his brothers were mad at him. He’d always been on the soft side somehow, especially since he discovered marshmallows in the Queen’s kitchen. There had always been crazy food in the castle’s basement kitchen that no one had ever heard of before, but marshmallows blew Wolfy’s mind away.

One day, sneaking into the endless castle, he found a library. It was a strange library. It had long dark corridors that seemed like they were endless. Even worse, if you padded the corridors long enough, the library itself disappeared, and it was as if you had entered another realm. It was no secret that the King and Queen’s enchanting castle was a mysterious place. What Wolfy gained out of the experience of sneaking into the castle was that he was introduced to books.

Even though no one in his tribe had ever read much of anything, somehow books blew his mind. The only kind of books his brothers read were the death pamphlets, which were like the local newspapers in Sorrow to keep track of the deceased. They were filled with hand-drawn pictures of dead people and animals in case someone recognized them to give them a proper burial. Wolfy’s brothers liked those because of the drawings of smashed skulls, men hung on the noose, and all the gory images you’d expect. It made them laugh hysterically. Comic books hadn’t been invented in their time, but the pamphlets were even better.

Still, Wolfy loved books.

In the beginning, he loved books about animals, which he considered food. Scratching his long sideburns, he wanted to know if there were yummy animals out there that he hadn’t tried before.

Wolfy found a book called Anguish Language, where every old tale was rewritten in words that somehow sounded the same but never made sense. In that book, there was the story of Ladle Rat Rotten Hut. Wolfy drooled, and wondered if that yummy young girl was for real. She looked tasty and had a quirky smile that he thought was amazing. He knew it was the kind of smile that got you kicked around in school, taunted by your teachers, and probably thought of as an outsider. It was an innocent smile, yet totally wicked.

In the pictures, Ladle was portrayed holding a basket full of cakes and wine. It was said that the year she turned sixteen, something strange would happen to her in the woods. It was as if the book was a prophecy of some kind.

“Yummy,” Wolfy had licked his lips. “If I find her I can eat her, and then follow with the wine and cake.”

Wolfy had never eaten cake before. He had tasted a number of humans, but he thought they tasted awful. They were neither salty, nor sweet, neither hot, nor cold, neither fury, nor smoothly skinned. Even though he walked around in human form unless he turned into a real wolf when he needed to, humans were just unnecessary horrid creatures. But not Ladle. There was something about Ladle.

But eating humans was in the past.

Now, Wolfy cleaned his Belly and the Beast bar and waited for his first customers of the night. He and Ladle were starting something, and he had to grow up and become a man. Well, not a man
man
, but a boy man, more of a wolf slash boy slash man slash whatever. It was all because he liked that quirky girl in the red hood, and had to take care of her, and persuade her mother he was good for her.

Wolfy shrugged, cleaning the glasses in his bar. The girl he liked was Death.

“Way to go, Wolfy,” he mumbled to himself, “Of all girls in the world.”

But there was nothing he could do about it. He was crazy about her, his fur strengthened when she was near him. Although she was Death, he was always worried about her when she came back late to visit him in the bar. Her mother didn’t approve of the relationship so they only met behind her back. Ladle slaughtered those which the Tree of Life chose. Wolfy worked hard, cooking and serving in his bar. Then they met late at night before the clock struck midnight and Ladle had to go back home. She had to go to sleep early and wake up early. She didn’t go to school, and she slayed people everyday. Her job wasn’t easy, and it was by no means appreciated, so he knew she needed the emotional support.

It always puzzled Wolfy why her mother thought he was a threat to Ladle. She was Death for meatloaf’s sake! He was just a hungry wolf who attacked people for food. It wasn’t like he wanted to hurt them. Who in the world didn’t get hungry? Did anybody understand how hungry a young, growing wolf could get?

Wolfy scratched his sideburns, watching the crescent moon through the window of his bar. Thank God it was still three days until the full moon. He’d need to summon his friends again to chain him up that night so he wouldn’t hurt anyone, because that’s the only time in the month when he really got nasty, and even Death couldn’t stand in his way.

Last time, his friends waited too long to chain him, so Jack sent him on a one way ride up on one of his highest beanstalks. Wolfy ended up fighting a giant troll for his life all night.

A smile bestowed itself on his face as he checked his pocket watch – it was a watch the new Willie Winkie had given him as a gift. There had to be another Willie Winkie when I was promoted as Sandman, right?

Wolfy knew that soon Ladle would arrive after a hard night’s work. He wondered whom she had killed today. Whomever she killed, she was just doing her job. He had a surprise for her, an incredible meal: roasted ham and cheese and strawberry cake for dessert. Of course, he didn’t share his marshmallows with her. These were his. They were very much a substitute for not eating her.

“Damn it, Wolfy,” he looked at himself in the mirror. “Stop thinking about eating Ladle. She is delicious, but where will you be and what will you do if you eat her? She’s the shining star of your life, like a big slice of meat, or a crumbly mumbly piece of loaf. She is so delicious you can’t eat her, and they didn’t make two of her. She’s one of a kind,” Wolfy combed his sideburns, which Ladle hated. He thought his sideburns showed his strength as a young wolf. She always told him that he had looked like a cute prince when they first met, but then Wolfy started growing those silly sideburns and acting vulgarly like wolves do. He also combed them when he was a bit scared or worried, which wasn’t often. “Besides, you don’t want to scare her away. She’s a sweet girl. If you can’t control your urges, she’ll leave you,” Wolfy threatened his reflection in the mirror with a forefinger. His reflection’s brows furrowed, afraid of him. Sometimes, his reflection did that. He was a schizophrenic werewolf with two personalities after all.

He turned around and went to open the Belly and the Beast’s door, waiting for the first customer of the night, breathing in the air from the forest. It wasn’t easy finding his bar though because it was at the edge of the world –  you could only figure out how to find it when using one of Sorrow’s enchanted compasses. Older folks didn’t call it the Belly and the Beast. They thought the name was juvenile. They simply called it the Inn at the End of the World.

Miles away, in the middle of the forest, Ladle was in trouble…

She was patting a boy she was supposed to kill, and telling him that it was all right. The boy was only twenty-four but the Tree of Life had ordered his death. Sometimes, Ladle never understood this Tree of Life. Why did young people have to die? But who was she to argue? She was merely Death.

“It’s alright,” She told the boy. “We all die. Everybody dies, even the funny looking squirrels.”

“I am not a squirrel,” the boy cried out. “I still have so much I want to do with my life.”

“Like what?” Ladle asked. “Maybe we can do this today before I whack your head off.”

“I want to get married, have kids, and I want to travel the world.”

“Wow,” she mused. “That’s a lot. We can’t do that today. You need at least nine months to bring a kiddo into this horrible world. Which reminds me, why do you want to do that?”

“Why?” the boy couldn’t believe she’d just asked. “I don’t know. Everyone wants to have kids.”

“But if you die right after they’re are born, what’s the point? You’re logic is absolutely flawed.”

“
My
logic is flawed?!”

“You need to accept death like everyone else,” Ladle explained. “It’s like going to school. It sucks, but you can’t say no.”

“I really hate you!” the boy screamed.

“Really?” Ladle looked sad. She really didn’t want him to hate her. “Look, I have great idea. It’s the last day in your life. You shouldn’t spend it worried and freaked out. In fact, it should be the best day of your life, because it’s the last. Do you understand?”

“I don’t understand,” the boy wept. “Why do you have to kill me?”

“That’s like asking a teacher why you have to do your homework,” Ladle said, swooshing a squirrel away. “It’s simple really. This isn’t democracy, it’s a dictatorship. You don’t get a vote. You have to die because I’m in charge and I said so.”

“I love life!”

It’s still loves you back,” Ladle told him, holding her scythe. “At least until the clock strikes twelve tonight,” Ladle tilted her head. “Then I will have to chop your head off. Chop. Chop. Chop.” She waved her scythe happily in the air.

“I can’t believe you’re happy you’ll be killing me when the clock strikes twelve,” the boy cried. “You make it sound like I am going to a ball at midnight,” the boy sobbed. “You’re horrible.”

“Believe me, I hate my job,” Ladle mused. “But you’re horrible, too. You know that?” she stood on her toes, pointing a finger up the boy’s nose.

“Why? What did I do?” he felt wicked that Death was almost sticking its forefinger up his nose.

“Why?” Ladle sneered. “It’s your last day in your life and you can’t even have fun? Are you going to spend the next hours whining that you’re going to die? Isn’t there anything you always wanted to do? This would be the right time to do it.”

The boy seemed taken by her words. He slumped back, sitting on a log in the forest.

Ladle had been trying her best to stay strong with those she had to kill everyday. She was new to the job, and it had been really hard. Each time she was sent to kill someone who wasn’t a witch, a goblin, or some nasty creature, she felt confused. Humans had millions of excuses why they shouldn’t die when their time came. Ladle had a soft spot for them, and always considered sparing them, but she couldn’t because that would have been irresponsible. She inherited a job, a destiny, and she had to be strong enough to do it well.

Unlike the others, this boy didn’t ask for a day or two to accomplish something he’d always wanted to, nor did he claim he deserved to live another day. He simply wanted to live for years to come, and couldn’t live with the idea that he was going to die tonight. It broke Ladle’s heart, and she didn’t know what to do. She’d even consulted with her squirrels and scruffy cat, but to her surprise they didn’t sympathize with him. They loved her and wanted her to be a good girl and kill those she was ordered to.

“Look,” she said. “If it was up to me, I’d kill you soon because I want to meet Wolfy before midnight. My mom doesn’t like me hanging out with him so I only have a small gap of time between ten and twelve, but the Tree of Life does allow me to keep you alive until the clock strikes midnight.”