Happy Valentine's Slay ( A Grimm Diaries Prequel 10.5 ) (3 page)

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 gave 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, but he thought it showed his strength as a young wolf when he did that. 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 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 of 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 would be alright. 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.

“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. 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. He was taller than her.

“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 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 didn’t have to 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 and 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 for me, I’d kill you soon enough because I should 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.”

“Wolfy? Tree? What’s all that nonsense?” The boy kept crying. “And you have a mother? I’m starting to suspect you’re not really Death, but a loon.”

“Take it easy, pretty boy. I am Death. You can’t escape me. And again, stop whining. I might have a good idea for you.”

“What do you have in mind?”

“I will take you to Wolfy’s inn, the Belly and the Beast. How about you meet up with some of my friends, and have some fun on the night you die.”

“Your friends? Who are those? Tormentor, the  Hangman, and the caretaker?” He mocked her as he stopped crying.

“If I were you, I wouldn’t make fun of me. Let alone those respectful people you have just mentioned. They are doing an important job.”

Ladle pulled the boy from his hand, shook a tree until a cocoanut fell from it, and gave it to the boy. Then she walked him to the Belly and the Beast...

The first set of Wolfy’s friends arriving to the Belly and the Beast was Peter Pan and Wendy. Wolfy raised an eyebrow when he saw beauty wearing a dress that wasn’t stained with blood. That was the usual for Wendy: bloody teeth, mayhem, and all the trouble in the world. Today, she seemed more of a regular girl, engaging Peter as he hi-fived Wolfy once he saw him. Well, they didn’t call it hi-fiving yet in 1812.

“So what’s happening?” Wolfy had to ask. “Wendy, why are you looking so girlish today?”

“Behave yourself, Wolfy!” Wendy snarled at him, showing her fangs. Wolfy snarled back with furry hair and fangs. Thank God the bar was still empty or they would have exposed their identities. It had never been a good idea to have Wendy and Wolfy in the same place.

“Easy with the fangs, mammals!” Peter said, pouring himself a Strawberry drink.

“She started it,” Wolfy said as his face returned to normal.

Wendy laughed, cutting the roses from a bouquet in her hand and throwing them on the tables.

“I am not sure if she’s enjoying tearing up roses or if she is trying to decorate the tables,” Wolfy whispered to Pete.

“It’s both,” Pete said, burping on purpose. “Don’t you know what today is?”

“What? Is it a special day?”

“Of course, you fury-fury creature,” Wendy answered.

“It’s Valentine’s Day,” Pete said as he pulled Wendy closer and started dancing with her between the tables. “Please, no fangs, darling. Pull them back. You know how I feel about that.”

“Oh, sorry,” she said. “Just got exited, Pete.”

Wolfy shook his head, irritated. “So what is Valentine’s Day? Is it something like Rat Catcher’s day?”

Wendy laughed at him. “How could you read all those books, and still not know what Valentine’s day is?”

“It’s lovers day,” Pete said, still dancing. “Lovers celebrate and give each other flowers all over the world.”

“All over the world?” Wolfy wondered. “How come we never heard about it in Sorrow?”

“For some reason, it’s prohibited,” Wendy said “That’s why Sorrow sucks,” she laughed again.

“So should I be bringing Ladle flowers today?” Wolfy wondered.

“A hammer and a nail would be more appropriate,” Wendy mocked him, although she didn’t know Ladle was Death. It was Wendy’s dark nature that let her sense things without even knowing why. She had always thought of Ladle as weird, and she had enjoyed setting her toes on fire when she was asleep once, like she loved to do with Hunchy who was serving as the place’s body guard at the moment.

“A kiss would be alright, Wolfy” Peter said, pulling Wendy closer to him. “For you and Ladle, a kiss on Valentine’s Day would be just about right,” Peter pulled Wendy closer to him and kissed her passionately. Wolfy had to pretend he wasn’t eagerly watching. He didn’t know why seeing two people kiss made him hungry again, so pulled out a raw piece of meat and ate it behind their backs.

“No fangs, darling,” Pete said, pushing Wendy away. “How many times do I have to tell you, no fangs when kissing?”

“Sorry, Pete,” she said with a trickle of blood on her lips. “Got carried away again,” she winked slyly at Wolfy.

Peter wiped the trickle of blood from his lower lips. He was used to her biting it.

“Ladle and I never kissed,” Wolfy said softly, swallowing his food while Peter burped on his behalf. Peter always did that. Whenever someone ate or drank without burping, he did it for them. This time he also yanked the chair upside down for the fun of it.

“What?” Wendy’s eyes widened. “What do you guys do when you spend time together?”

“A lot of things,” Wolfy said, scratching his sideburns.

“Like what? Reading her Anguish Language?” Wendy snorted.

“That’s one thing we do,” Wolfy nodded. “It’s nice. I like to read for her.”

“Shame on you, Wolfy,” Peter said. “Your wolf brothers wouldn’t be proud of you right now. I bet they eat their lovers, not just kiss them.”

“I really want to kiss her,” Wolfy explained. “She just doesn’t let me. You see, we met in an awkward situation, and I have to do a lot to gain her trust.”

“What awkward situation? Was she bathing naked in the lake? That’s how Jack met Marmalade.” Wendy laughed, dancing around again.

“It wouldn’t be as awkward as when I met Wendy,” Peter mumbled. Wendy shot him a dark look, but then kept dancing again on a table.

“You never told me about that?” Wolfy asked.

“And I won’t. It was a deliciously awkward moment,” Pete said, approaching the bar and helping himself to another drink. “So who is coming tonight?”

“I don’t know,” Wolfy said. “The regular guests, I suppose,” Wolfy cleaned more glasses.

“I bet Jack and Marmalade aren’t coming,” Wendy said. “Jack’s always so introverted, loving his quiet time in the beanstalks.”

“He isn’t introverted,” Pete said. “He’s an amazing boy. He just doesn’t think too many people are good company.”

“But he should take Marmalade out more,” Wendy said. “She doesn’t know anyone but him.”

“I don’t think he is coming,” Wolfy agreed. “We had Rumpelstein here, two days ago.”

“Whoa!” Peter raised his glass. “That’s weird. Why’d he come to such a place? No offense, Wolfy, but your place stinks. That’s why we love it,” Peter hailed.

“What do you mean by that?” Wolfy wondered. “I have had many honorable visitors from the castle.”

“All I have seen are goblins, more goblins, and then more goblins,” Wendy said.

“They are bad, but they are a good customer,” Wolfy said.

“That’s why you’re lucky Jack doesn’t come often. Goblins and Jack are simply fire and ice.”

“Or werewolf and vampires,” Wendy stuck out her tongue at Wolfy.

“I am not a werewolf,” Wolfy said. Peter shot him an eye. “Alright. I am, but I am trying not to be one. I am doing it for Ladle.”

“Good luck with that,” Peter smirked. “That’s like me saying I decided I will grow up tomorrow and be a man. Do you have that yoyo thing you showed me the last time, by the way? I’d love to play with it again.”

“Stop it, Pete,” Wolfy said. “Can’t you ever grow up?” he stuck out his tongue at him.

Peter laughed hard at this, clapping his hands together.

“Why are you laughing?” Wolfy raised an eyebrow.

“I just remembered when Jack said that someone should write a book about us,” Peter said. “Imagine if someone writes a book about us loons. That would be a fun book to read. We’re the most horrible kids in the world.”