Grimmvice {HK Grimm FtM TFTG}

This DLC… the length was painful for her, she was sure. The Grimm Troupe, completed within the first day of it being released on two full save files, exploited even further through requested saves from online. It was just so short, and she didn’t like it; she wanted to be able to fight Grimm and his nightmare version over and over again, and having it end after the Nightmare King fight was incredibly anticlimactic to her. Grimm… he was just so spectacular to her; the vampire king look, the dramatic finger snap, his suspenseful entrance, his vague motives… almost mesmerizing. She clicked on another online save file with an excited look on her face as she started another pre-fight file. As the room loaded, she pressed down on her fifth favorite key; the super dash, which rocketed her across the hall into the main stage, failing to notice the lack of accordion music that normally plays from Brumm.

Grace fidgeted in a packet of cigarettes, pulling one out and swiftly lighting it with a sturdy, rusty zippo, the flames seeming to be all the more intensely scarlet, yet not paying any mind. The drums flared up as the spotlights danced across the stage, before the troupe master himself warped in from a plume of red smoke. She grinned cheekily as Grimm spoke, almost trembling in anticipation, and skipping most of his dialog to get to the boss fight.

“Shut up you overly-extra Drac wannabe! Show me your moves!” she laughed at the screen as the Grimmchild was summoned into Grimm’s cloak. The animation all seemed different, however; as the Grimmchild made contact with Grimm, the entire screen flashed red for a few seconds before Grimm reeled back and then lurched forward, with the unseen crowd gasping in supposed shock. She gasped as well in confusion, before violently coughing; her smoking habit has filled her room with smoke that she’s grown not to notice, and the cigarette that she seemed to have lit mere moments ago was already just a bud. She spat out the charred cigarette butt and lit yet another, the zippo’s fire now being a very noticeable bright red flame that created equally-red embers, yet she failed to notice as she was trying to compose herself again and looked at the screen. She brushed her pale hair out of her face, tried to clear the ever-growing smoke from her view, and decided to actually look at Grimm’s dialog.

“My heart, a dear conflict… embers remain, an unsated Ritual for this old kingdom, but… I am heeded again, through an… unfathomed realm, an expendable lantern through a lively horizon… so many flames, more power I am called to, a warm, lively pulse… power that shoots far above my breed’s most elusive imaginations!”

Grimm stood back up, now looking down at the small knight.

“The show must go on, I must journey again… Your collections shall not be in vain, my roaming prowess shall not be in vain; that power radiates into me...”

Grimm bowed, before snapping his fingers and going up in smoke yet again. Everything was dark, silent, nothing.

Grace pouted and coughed again from the smoke: What just happened… and how could anything like this happen? She tried to exit the game, but as she clicked to go back to the main menu, the screen flashed into that bright red from earlier, and now won’t fade back. She tried everything: Shift-Tab, Alt-F4, even trying to turn off the computer, but nothing; her entire computer was locked. She growled, her voice sounding like a hoarse, rough purr from her long period of smoking. She coughed again, the smoke seeming to be almost congealed around her in an unnatural dark red haze. As she tried to fan the smoke away, she noticed that she had yet again gone through another full cigarette; she flicked away the butt and pulled out her engraved zippo again, shining it on her crop-top before lighting it up…

The metal zippo suddenly flashed a bright red as it superheated in her hand, causing a terrible burn and making her drop it on the ground. She hissed and held her hand, which tingled with pins and needles, and then an aching pain; her finger joints popped, and she felt a horribly squishy sensation within as the bones dissolved and the skin hardened into a pitch-black, sectioned carapace, and two main fingers merged together, and the carapace spreading up her arm. She wheezed harshly, before entering a fierce coughing fit, crying from the pressure and severity. The zippo soon ignited itself, flickering a bright red, which quickly began eating a trail in the red smoke, covering her body in the red flames. The embers clung to her skin, yet she didn’t shriek from any burning; her body ached, popped, snapped, and cracked in inhuman ways, her body filled with a new kind of power. The heat made her clogged her chest heavily, yet she felt light with this power: the embers of fear.

Her breasts disappeared into her body, and along her torso and abdomen formed shiny crimson carapace plates, and the black carapace conversion spread from her hand and arm to her shoulders, neck, and other arm. Her gender changed internally, and his lower body was covered in carapace, and the carapace being strengthened by the dissolving of his bones and his carapace sectioning to move smoothly. His clothes were incinerated and charred into minute ashes on the ground. The black carapace spread down his legs, becoming prominently jointed while his feet disappeared entirely, becoming small, hardened stubs. His head became very oval-shaped, his skin draining into a pale silver, his mouth becoming a jagged beak, and losing his outward nose and ears entirely. His eyes became much larger, and blanked into a bright, pupilless red, with dark rings around them and a black line marking from the center of his head, through the eyes, and down the sides of his face. The blond hair receded back into his head, with a new prominent widow’s peak; where the hair used to be formed a large pair of pitch-black, curved, sharp horns. He choked again, both on the smoke, and from his vocal cords changing. On his body formed a pair of large wings, with a strange “collar,” a dark grey outside, and a muted red inside, which folded around his body like an organic cloak.

The flames receded and faded as he lurched forward; he was very nauseous, and very dizzy. Who knew that going in between two completely different dimensions could make you feel so sick? He shuffled his wings, dusting them off slightly before looking around; what a strange place. Just where could the lantern be in this place? He searched, before he was drawn to the glowing piece of metal on the ground; the zippo that Grace seemed attached to. He picked it up, inspecting it closely as it cooled down; what impressive craftsmanship for something of such an irrelevant usage. Not that it matters; this item called his troupe for the Ritual, however it may be accomplished. He felt the power of endless embers swell in his chest, but he saw no embers… until he looked at the box of cigarettes Grace was smoking. No, those couldn’t be the embers; they’re an indulgence, a vice, a…