ToluBanjo7

Detective Isaac Grimm growing up in hollow his father had always told him stories about dark things that lived in the shadows, and he had quickly dismissed it as 'Old Wives Tales'. But Grimm didn't believe in ghost stories at least not anymore, Not after what happened to his partner two years ago. Back then, he thought the world operated on logic patterns that could be unravelled. That was until the night he watched something impossible tear about the only person he trusted.

GRIMM AND HOLLOW

The air in Hollow was thick with the scent of blood and burning wax. The church doors stood wide open, a silent mouth gaping into the abyss beyond. What had once been a place of faith was now nothing more than a slaughterhouse. 


The screams had faded. Only silence remained. 


Father Gabriel lay on the cold stone floor, his vision swimming as he fought to keep his eyes open. His robes were soaked in crimson, his breath coming in short, ragged bursts. The dagger in his grip trembled, slick with the blood of things that should not have bled. 


All around him, the bodies of his fellow missionaries lay broken, their faith shattered by claws and teeth. 


But the worst of it—the true horror—was Grimm. 


The man who had once been Isaac Grimm stood at the altar, his blackened eyes drinking in the carnage like an artist admiring his masterpiece. Blood dripped from his fingers, his lips curled in amusement as he watched Gabriel struggle to rise. 


The Price of Salvation