The Grimm (Short Story)

Belladonna found her eye kept sliding past Jerrico, her mind refusing to acknowledge what he held loosely in his hand. Something in the back of her mind was threatening to tear loose and rip her to shreds just be away from… from, that. She was having trouble controlling her breathing, she trembled, and her skin was slick with sweat.

Within his grasp was a matte black, thing was the only word she could come up with. It was somewhere between a circle and an oval and it moved. It slithered and seethed while not moving at all. Though it didn’t reflect the light, it seemed to glisten wetly and she was sure it made a low, ominous scratching sound, like dry bones rubbing together.

 

“What is it?” She asked, almost choking on the words.

 

“A talisman.” He replied.

 

“What does it do?”

 

“It eats The Dark.”

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