Chapter 10 : The Trailer's Secrets - Part 1
The storage facility squatted at the edge of Portland's industrial sprawl, surrounded by chain-link fence and the kind of security that looked impressive but wasn't. Keypad locks. One guard. Camera coverage with obvious blind spots.
I parked Daniel's sedan across the street and studied the layout. The Reaper countdown—twenty-nine days now—pulsed at the edge of my vision like a heartbeat I couldn't ignore.
[QUEST ACTIVE: SURVIVE THE REAPER HUNT]
[TIME REMAINING: 29 DAYS, 14 HOURS]
[OBJECTIVE UPDATE: ACQUIRE GRIMM WEAPONRY]
The facility housed Marie Burkhardt's Airstream trailer, impounded as evidence after her assault. Her nephew Nick had visited once, according to the police reports I'd accessed through Daniel's credentials. Once, then nothing. Too busy with detective work, or too skeptical of his dying aunt's stories about monsters.
His loss. My opportunity.
The guard station was a prefab booth near the main gate. I adjusted my consulting badge, grabbed a clipboard from the passenger seat, and walked toward it with the confidence of someone who belonged.
"Evening." The guard was mid-fifties, bored, working his way through a crossword puzzle. "Help you?"
"Daniel Cross, forensic consultant with Portland PD." I held up the badge. "Need to check on some evidence related to the Burkhardt assault case."
The guard squinted at the badge, then at my face. "You're the consultant Franco uses, right? The one who found that weird stuff at the Forest Park scene?"
"Word travels fast."
"That's me."
"Yeah, okay." He reached for a clipboard of his own. "Sign in. Unit 47, northwest corner. Don't touch anything that isn't related to your case."
"Wouldn't dream of it."
The facility was a maze of identical storage units, each one holding someone's forgotten possessions or bureaucratic evidence. Unit 47 sat at the end of a row, distinguished only by the police tape stretched across its door.
The lock was a standard padlock—evidence sealing rather than security. I had bolt cutters in my bag, but something simpler occurred to me first. Daniel's keyring held a universal key that worked on half the locks in Portland's evidence system.
"Thank you, original host, for your useful habits."
The lock clicked open. The tape parted. And Marie Burkhardt's Airstream sat before me, silver skin gleaming in the overhead lights.
[GRIMM ARTIFACT REPOSITORY DETECTED]
[SIGNIFICANT WESEN-HUNTING EQUIPMENT PRESENT]
[RECOMMEND: THOROUGH CATALOGUING]
The trailer's door was unlocked. Inside, the air smelled of old leather, gun oil, and something else—herbs, maybe. Preservation compounds used by generations of monster hunters.
My breath caught.
Weapons lined every available surface. Crossbows hung from ceiling hooks. Bladed implements filled wall-mounted racks—swords, axes, specialized tools I couldn't name. Firearms sat in locked cases, their modifications visible through the glass. And books. Shelves of books, their spines cracked with age, titles in languages I only partially recognized.
[CATALOGUING INITIATED]
[MEDIEVAL ZWEIHANDER - ANTI-WESEN PROPERTIES DETECTED]
[DOPPELARMBRUST - DUAL-BOLT CROSSBOW - MECHANISM INTACT]
[KANABO - MODIFIED FOR SIEGBARSTE COMBAT]
[CONTINUING...]
The System's notifications scrolled faster than I could read. Each weapon triggered analysis, history, purpose. Marie Burkhardt's family had been hunting monsters for centuries, and every generation had contributed to this arsenal.
I moved through the trailer slowly, hands brushing over leather-bound journals and cold steel. A short sword caught my attention—balanced, practical, sized for someone who'd need to fight in close quarters. The crossbow beside it was modern, modified, capable of punching through body armor.
And in a locked cabinet near the back, a collection of vials. Each labeled in German. Siegbarste Gift. Ziegevolk Pheromone Blocker. Hexenbiest Suppressant.
Poisons and countermeasures. Tools for hunting things that could tear a human apart.
[GRIMM WEAPONRY ASSESSMENT: EXTENSIVE]
[RECOMMENDED ACQUISITIONS: SHORT SWORD (PRACTICAL), CROSSBOW (RANGED), SIEGBARSTE GIFT (CONTINGENCY)]
I opened the cabinet. The vials clinked against each other as I selected the Siegbarste poison—a dark green liquid that seemed to shift in its container. The crossbow came down from its hooks easily, along with a quiver of bolts. The short sword fit into a sheath designed to be worn under a coat.
But the weapons weren't the real treasure.
Near the trailer's front, a massive book sat open on a reading stand. Hand-illustrated. Leather-bound. Pages yellow with age but still legible.
The Bestiary.
I touched the cover and the System exploded.
[EXTERNAL BESTIARY DETECTED]
[COMPATIBLE DATA FORMAT IDENTIFIED]
[SYNCHRONIZATION AVAILABLE]
[WARNING: LARGE DATA TRANSFER - PROCESSING TIME REQUIRED]
[ACCEPT? Y/N]
"Yes."
The transfer was immediate and disorienting. Information flooded my consciousness—species names, illustrations, behavioral patterns, weaknesses. Centuries of Grimm knowledge compressed into digital format and uploaded directly into my mind.
My vision blurred. My head pounded. I grabbed the reading stand for support as the data settled into place.
[BESTIARY UPLOAD COMPLETE]
[47 SPECIES ADDED]
[TOTAL: 51/200]
[NOTE: MANY ENTRIES FRAGMENTARY - FIELD CONFIRMATION REQUIRED]
Fifty-one species. Not all complete—some entries were sketches, rumors, theories passed down through generations. But the foundation was there. Siegbarstes and their vulnerability to specific poisons. Hundjägers and their pack tactics. Zauberbiests and their magical capabilities.
And Reapers. The entry was extensive, updated multiple times over centuries.
Organization dedicated to culling Grimms who disrupt Wesen power structures. Operate in pairs or small cells. Prefer decapitation for symbolic significance. Have eliminated over two hundred confirmed Grimms since formal organization in 1804. Leadership structure unknown. Suspected connections to European Wesen councils.
Two hundred Grimms. In just over two centuries. And they'd given me thirty days to run.
"I'm not running."
I photographed several pages from the physical Bestiary—the System's upload was useful, but having backup copies couldn't hurt. Then I closed the book, straightened the trailer to hide evidence of my visit, and gathered my acquisitions.
The sword went under my coat. The crossbow fit into my bag, broken down into components. The poison vial nestled in an interior pocket.
I wasn't stealing. I was requisitioning. Marie Burkhardt was dying, her nephew didn't believe, and the Royals wanted these weapons for their own purposes. Better they serve someone who'd actually use them against monsters.
The trailer's door locked behind me. The storage unit closed. I walked back toward the entrance, nodding at the guard as I passed.
"Find what you needed?"
"Just confirming inventory. Everything's accounted for."
The guard grunted and returned to his crossword. I stepped into the night air, weapons heavy against my body, knowledge heavier in my mind.
[QUEST UPDATE: ACQUIRE GRIMM WEAPONRY]
[STATUS: COMPLETE]
[NEXT OBJECTIVE: COMBAT TRAINING]
Twenty-nine days. I had weapons now. I had knowledge. What I didn't have was skill.
That would need to change.
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