An excerpt from my foray into fan fiction. Feel free to ignore if this isn’t your cup of tea.
Hank and Nick sit across the table from the intended victim at the station.
“My name is Sheryl Grouse. I was on my way home from a late shift at work when he suddenly appeared behind me.”
“What were you doing just before then?” Hank asks.
“Nothing. I was just walking home.”
“And then what happened?” Hank follows up.
“He just stopped and ran off when he saw me dialing 9-1-1. I guess he didn’t want to hang around and wait.”
Nick decides to press her for more details. “I still don’t understand why he ran off,” Nick states again, “Was it something that you did?”
“I have no idea why he changed his mind and let me live,” she protests.
Nick leans over her, “I think you do. And I wish you would stop lying to me.” She woges in response, revealing her Hexenbiest face, and realizes that he is the Grimm she has heard about.
Sheryl leans across the table toward Nick. “Does your partner know?”
“Oh, I know,” Hank replies. “I have for quite some time.”
She sits back in her chair and stares Nick down. “It was dragon,” she states. “It came out of nowhere, landing right between the two of us. At first I thought that it was going to kill me, but it seemed more interested in keeping him at bay. When he ran off, the dragon took off after him.” She pauses to let them absorb what she had just said.
“Really? A dragon? Was it breathing fire?” Nick asks incredulously. “I’m fairly certain that Damonfeuer can’t fly.”
“It wasn’t a Damonfeuer. It was a Fae Draconis, a dragon fairy.” She rests her forearms on the table and fidgets with her phone. “There is an Elf in Portland.”
“Come again?” Nick asks.
“Where there is a dragon, there is always an elf.” Sheryl replies.