Chapter 3: The First Wesen and a Grimm's Legacy
The air in the Blutbad's den was thick with the scent of fear and something else, something primal and metallic. Nick Burkhardt, still reeling from Aunt Marie's sudden, devastating revelation about his Grimm heritage, felt a cold dread seep into his bones. He'd just met Monroe, a "reformed" Blutbad who looked like a mild-mannered clockmaker but could, in a blink, transform into a snarling, red-eyed wolf-man. Monroe, bless his eccentric heart, was doing his best to explain the hidden world of Wesen, but it felt like trying to grasp smoke.
"So, you're telling me… there are monsters. Everywhere. And I can see them?" Nick whispered, his gaze darting nervously around Monroe's living room, half-expecting the antique grandfather clock to woge into a giant, ticking beast.
Monroe sighed, adjusting his glasses. "Not monsters, Nick. Wesen. And yes, you can see them. You're a Grimm. It's… a thing."
Meanwhile, across town, Adam and Ciri were on the hunt. News reports of the serial killer had reached Adam's ears, and his System had been buzzing with a low-level alert.
"Okay, System," Adam muttered, pulling out his Witcher necklace – a polished, silver wolf's head that now felt strangely warm against his chest. "Give me the deets. What kind of furry fiend are we dealing with?"
He held the necklace up, focusing his enhanced senses. The wolf's head pulsed faintly, and a mental overlay appeared, highlighting a specific building on a map of Portland. A red aura pulsed around it, indicating a Wesen presence.
[ New Wesen Type Detected: Blutbad. Information added to Library. ]
"Blutbad, huh?" Adam grinned, a predatory glint in his eyes. "Classic. Big Bad Wolf. Very original. Ciri, get ready. We're going after a furry. And this one's not cute."
Ciri, ever pragmatic, merely nodded, her hand already on the hilt of her silver sword. "Monsters are monsters. Their form matters less than their intent."
They moved like shadows, Adam's newfound strength and agility making him a blur, Ciri's seasoned combat instincts guiding them through the urban jungle. They found the Blutbad in a derelict warehouse, a hulking figure mid-woge, its face contorted in a snarl, its eyes glowing with a primal hunger. It was a terrifying sight, even for Adam, who had seen worse on Netflix.
"Alright, big boy," Adam called out, stepping into the dim light, a smirk on his face. "Party's over. Unless you're into parties where you get dissolved. Because that's an option."
The Blutbad roared, lunging. Adam dodged, a blur of motion, and Ciri was already there, her silver sword a flash of light. The fight was brutal, faster than any of Adam's previous encounters with mere humans. The Blutbad was strong, its claws sharp, its movements surprisingly agile. Adam used his basic Witcher combat, parrying blows with his steel sword, landing powerful strikes that would have flattened a human. He felt a sharp claw rip across his side, a deep gash appearing. But even as the pain flared, it began to recede, the wound knitting itself together with alarming speed.
"Huh," Adam grunted, blocking another attack. "Still works."
The Blutbad, enraged, lunged again. Adam, seeing an opening, pulled out a small vial from his inventory. It was a basic healing potion, one of the few items available to him at his current level. He uncorked it with his teeth and swallowed it in a single gulp.
Instantly, a wave of cold energy washed over him. His vision sharpened, his muscles tensed further. And then, his eyes. They turned completely, unnervingly black. No iris, no pupil, just two pools of obsidian.
The Blutbad, mid-leap, froze. Its eyes, previously filled with rage, widened in primal terror. It whimpered, a sound utterly out of place for such a monstrous creature. It had never seen anything like this. This was not a Grimm. This was something else. Something ancient and terrifying. Something that looked like a human, but whose eyes were the void itself. The hesitation was fatal.
Ciri, seeing the opening, moved. Her silver sword plunged deep into the Blutbad's chest. It woged back to human form with a final, shuddering gasp, its eyes still wide with black-eyed horror.
Adam's eyes flickered back to normal. He looked at the dead Wesen, then at his System.
[ Kill Count: 1 Wesen. Level Up! Current Level: 1. Kills to Level 2: 2. ]
"Two humans in one!" Adam exclaimed, a triumphant grin spreading across his face. "Talk about a two-for-one deal. My kill-to-level ratio is going to be amazing." He then produced the Acid of Dissolution. "Alright, clean-up crew. Let's make this guy disappear. Poof! No evidence, no fuss."
Ciri watched him, a strange mix of awe and exasperation on her face. "Your… potions. They are… unsettling."
"Yeah, well, they work," Adam shrugged. "And they scare the pants off these Wesen. Bonus points."
Later that night, as Adam and Ciri returned to the mansion, unaware of the chaos they'd narrowly avoided, Nick Burkhardt was having the worst night of his life. Aunt Marie, his only link to this terrifying new world, was attacked in her hospital bed by a Hexenbiest and a Reaper. She fell into a deeper coma, her life slipping away. Nick, desperate, found her Airstream trailer, a treasure trove of Grimm journals, ancient weapons, and forbidden lore. And there, hidden amongst the dusty pages, was a mysterious key.
Nick, overwhelmed, looked out at the city lights, wondering who these new, brutal vigilantes were. He'd heard whispers, seen the efficiency of their work – bodies disappearing, crimes solved with uncanny speed. They were effective, yes, but also terrifying. Were they Wesen themselves? Or something else entirely? He shivered, a new, unsettling layer to his already chaotic world.