Code-name: Grimmsham

Full Name: John Grimmsham

Faction: Ulthar

More than a decade ago in the mid-seventies, John Grimmsham was a loner shunned by most people. Ambitions unfulfilled, he took a job as a guard in Pulp City Studios. Of course, he claimed that this was only a temporary means of surviving before he got a real job in showbiz. John spent his nights on the job watching TV and planning his rise to fame. In the meantime, each day he kept working on a screenplay that he believed would be an award winner and the accolades he was due would be his.

On Christmas Eve in 1979, he was jolted from his diversions. Grimmsham heard some unusual sounds coming from the studio’s food court. With his flashlight switched off, he carefully stole into the court, only to find a couple of mongrels feasting on the remains of a dinner.

The ugliness of these creatures was unrivaled. About four feet short, with hairy backs and vaguely human features, the twisted men-things snarled at the fear-struck Grimmsham and continued feasting. A few minutes later they retreated into ventilation shafts and left the guard pinching himself to check he was awake, and it had not been some bizarre nightmare vision.

But it was not a dream.

The same visitation occurred each night from then on, and eventually Grimmsham was able to approach the strange creatures more closely. Soon he engaged in rudimentary communication with the strange beasts. Their bond quickly grew tighter, and each night there were more and more ’Grimm’ (as he called them) visiting him in the studio. John had a secret that would pave his way to unbridled fame and fortune.

One summer night, John returned to his guard room after making his rounds. Inside the office, Grimmsham found Mr. Heimberg browsing his screenplay. Heimberg was a co-owner of the studios and a famous producer, but unfortunately without a hit in a few years. John’s heart jumped, as he knew this might be the breakthrough his career deserved.

Heimberg looked at him, smiled and put the screenplay inside his briefcase.

“You’re fired, Mr. Grimmsham,” were not the words that John expected to hear, and after a moment of dismay and distress, with all the desperation he could muster, Grimmsham leapt at Heimberg, trying to wrestle the case from his hands.

Standing over six feet tall, the burly producer easily shrugged off the skinny guard and whipped out a small gun, firing it point blank in John’s direction. Fire seared his face and the world went black as Grimmsham tumbled to the floor. An instant later, a terrible inhuman shriek came out of Heimberg’s throat and hot blood sprayed John’s face. As silence fell, he felt himself being gently carried away. Then darkness embraced him.

When Grimmsham awoke, he discovered his vision was limited. He touched his face and pain and rough bandages told him he was badly disfigured. One of the small creatures handed him a cracked hand mirror. He tore at the bandages to reveal horrible red wounds which ran from his eyes down his cheeks.

Grimmsham knew instinctively that he was somewhere underground, and only a faint sound of the city far, far above assured him he wasn’t dead.

Grimmsham looked around and noticed the blurry outline of scores of Grimm surrounding him. One of them, the bulkiest of all, shuffled up to John and offered him a treasure – the blank-eyed head of Mr. Heimberg, mauled almost beyond the recognition.

John smiled; he was about to become a celebrity after all.

The Grimm quickly came to worship Grimmsham. His mastery of the highest art of multi-tasking awed them and so they accepted him as their leader without question. He quickly reorganized Grimm society and established the Grimm Undercity. As he did so, the Grimm began their rapid evolution, new mutational adaptations allowing the society to grow according to Grimmsham’s needs and directions. He quickly ensured they pirated power and communication feeds using ramshackle facsimiles of above-ground technology. Soon the Grimm were thriving as never before, and their numbers swelled, and John Grimmsham was their master.

Code-name: Toxic Grimmvenger

Full name: Toxic Grimmvenger

Faction: Grimm

Dusk was giving way to night in the outskirts of the Industrial Zone. Nestled on the outer edges of the area, Zenith Chemicals was a plant that had seen far better days. Rust crept along the seams of painted metal chimneys that reached like fingers for a darkling sky, while manufacturing detritus lay discarded in unused parts of the lot. At the outer perimeter, a squat, lumpy-skinned creature stuck his tongue out between crooked teeth as he roughly hewed a hole in the plant’s fence. Low-pitched snaggletoothed chuckles erupted among his companions as the barrier was breached.

The Grimm raiding party scurried through the haphazard hole in the oxidized chain-link fence. Twelve figures passed through the opening, for the most part each different and distinct from the next, yet all recognizable as part of the same species. Among them were several Grimm with bodies not unlike sacks made flesh, with limbs attached.

Their guttural speech followed patterns unintelligible to human ears. “<Way this, is way this>,” said the principal Grimm, a half-blind creature with pale skin, clad in ragged robes and walking with the aid of a stick. The others followed his lead.

“<Hur, hur>,” laughed a punk-looking brute with a mohawk, his frame bigger than the rest. Whether he was laughing at the lead Grimm or something in his own addled brain was not clear.

The band approached the largest of the Zenith buildings. In the distance, the rhythmic movement of flashlights indicated a pair of security guards doing their rounds. When the lights were clearly moving away, the robed Grimmancer signaled to the large Hooligrimm, who shoulder charged a side door open. The Grimm trooped in, oblivious to the sound of the clattering door they stomped over.

Under the guidance of the Grimmancer the Grimm set to work, grabbing samples of various chemicals to take back to the Grimm tunnels. Flesh-sack Grimm were filled with an assortment of industrial fluids. Four of the SackGrimm were dispatched to fill themselves up with shampoos. Another SackGrimm was dispatched high to a walkway above a vat marked with danger signs, and emblazoned ‘Danger – Waste Chemicals’. The Hooligrimm accompanied him, dangling the SackGrimm into the bright green viscous fluid, scooping it up and filling up the suspended bag-like Grimm.

Just then a voice shouted out, its exhortation lost on the Grimm. Human ears would have detected the word “Halt!”

Two security guards opened fire on the intruders, bullets plunging into one of the SackGrimm, causing an instant violent liquid explosion. The force of the creature’s body bursting ruptured a huge nearby vat, its spilled contents forcefully washing away the Grimmancer and another Grimm. Another SackGrimm looked on at the scene, startled, and lacking direction without the party leader. An involuntary gag reflex caused the SackGrimm to spray its storage-stomach full of chemicals onto an electrical panel immediately in front of it. The creature was instantly felled by an electrical arc which danced up the metal gantry. The Hooligrimm fell into the vat, stunned by the electrical shock, his skin blistering as he sank down, unable to swim to the surface as he had never needed to evolve such a skill. The remaining SackGrimm juddered as the electrical current swept through his body, and he too fell into the vat.

Fire broke out on the electrical panel, quickly spreading round the plant, fueled by igniting flammable liquids. The owners of Zenith had cut corners, finding it cheaper to bribe safety inspectors rather than bring the place up to code. They would come to regret those decisions. The guards looked on momentarily before they fled in panic.

The next day, and Zenith Chemicals was a smoking ruin. Captain Hadron and Dr. Mercury assisted with the clean-up once it had been identified that Grimm were involved. Grainy CCTV footage from a neighboring plant showed twelve Grimm make their way through the Zenith fence. Later recordings showed four of the creatures wandering back through the hole they had made in the fence, their bodies stretched like balloons filled with water. When the Heavy Metal Supremes had recovered the remains of the rest of the Grimm, they counted only seven more. A thorough search followed, but no other Grimm was found.

Days later, a Grimm truly unlike any other wandered into the furthest tunnels of the Underempire. Its misshapen body looked like it was formed of oozing green liquid. Grimm working the outer reaches looked on with curiosity for the barest moment, sniffing the air for the noxious fumes emanating from the newcomer before returning to their tasks. The oozing Grimm wandered on towards the heart of the Underempire, leaving wet, emerald footprints in his wake. A new Grimm had evolved.

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Code-name: Supreme Grimm

Full Name: Supreme Grimm

Faction: Grimm

Jonesy looked up to the roof of the crumbling tenement, rain tumbling onto his reptilian face. Up there, he was sure he could see a squat figure, its cape whipping in the wind. The weather was unseasonal for Pulp City, making his nocturnal business hard enough. Supreme trouble just made things worse.

Jonesy was something known locally as a Mutant Mobster. Along with his partner Smith he was an enforcer and not to be messed with, but he did not need Supreme-level interference. He lifted a taloned hand to shield his eyes enough to get a better look, to maybe work out if the Supreme was Hero or Villain, before deciding his next move. As Jonesy stared, there was a sudden lightning flash, splitting the night sky and starkly silhouetting the caped figure above. A few seconds later came a thunderous boom which alerted Jonesy to the fact he needed to do something, and quick. He pulled out his piece, a heavy blaster designed by the boss to look a little like an old-school Tommy gun.

Jonesy started to move, powerful lizard-leg strides. He had money to collect and no-one let the boss down unless they wanted to end up as victim of one of his experiments, and Jonesy had already been down that path once. Supremes were making it too damn hard to earn a dishonest living in this city.

He headed into the alley running alongside the tenement. Years of experience combined with the sixth sense of a mostly successful career-criminal caused Jonesy to glance upwards. The Supreme was swooping down, a little erratically, almost like he was not used to flying. His pursuer hit the ground with a thudding splash, before straightening up. What Jonesy saw clearly then startled even his jaded demeanor. The Supreme was clearly a Grimm, one wearing a half-cowl and flapping cape, and nothing else. Its stocky physique indicated some degree of power. Weird was the only word to describe this new Supreme. Things got even stranger as he realized the Grimm was gurgling a tune: “Der-de-de-de-der, der-der-der, der-de-de-de-der, der-der-der.”

The Mutant Mobster felt more than a little surprised. The peculiar, stocky, mostly-naked green-skinned Supreme seemed to be vocalizing its own theme music. His bemusement was instantly broken. A staccato ionized crack-crack-crack signaled that Smith was standing beside Jonesy and had opened up with his own blaster. Jonesy joined in, doubling the energy-fire raining down on the stoic-faced Grimm. Shots bounced off its chest and tore through its cape. In a blur of motion the Grimm flew forwarded, careening clumsily into Smith and knocking the burly dino-man out, while sending Jonesy to the floor more than a little dazed.

Jonesy shook his head to clear it. Things were not going well. He tried to raise his gun, but his arm felt a little weak from the collision. The Grimm stood over him, triumphant and proud, fists resting against hips as his features were once again lit up with brilliant light from another bolt of lightning. Must be a Hero thought Jonesy, only a Hero would strike a pose like that.

Just at that moment, Jonesy’s luck changed. He heard a not-too-distant explosion, almost immediately followed by the screaming peal of an alarm system. The caped Grimm twisted its head left then right, and it seemed to sniff the air before raising one arm skywards and unsteadily streaking into the air. Jonesy thought he could faintly hear the Grimm exclaim, “Up, up and awaaaay,” but he couldn’t be sure. Now all he had to do was wake up Smith and they could be about their business. Then he had to figure an angle to use the information of a new Supreme Grimm to get in good with the boss. It was all in a night’s work.

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Code-name: Grimm Lee Chan

Full Name: Grimm Lee Chan

Faction: Grimm, The Way

June panned her camera around taking in the spectacle – it looked like everyone in Little Asia was kung fu fighting! And in the heart of it all, was a peculiar little humanoid in a yellow jumpsuit, near-hairless with violet hued skin, its odd face split by crooked pointed teeth. The strange-looking thing twirled two nunchakus with lightning speed, a whirling vision of martial arts motion. He knocked down Ankle Biters with every crunching strike, punctuating his attacks with a shouted ‘Ki-ya!’

As Pulp City’s leading reporter on all Supreme matters, Channel 4’s June Summers had covered many strange stories, but she suspected that whatever lay behind this one would make it a doozy.

June filmed the fray before her, trying to capture the action without getting caught in it. A hot tip had brought her looking into one of the stranger denizens of Little Asia, but she had not expected to suddenly become embroiled in an all-out street battle. She continued filming as it became clear that the district’s shadowy, unofficial protectors – The Way of the Fist and Blade – were vanquishing their last foes, although June was sure she glimpsed a villain in a long coat with a toothpaste-commercial smile escape into a sewer.

June watched as the curious little thing she was interested in executed a spinning aerial kick to a badly-damaged re-purposed Terror Cotta Warrior, sending it crashing to the ground. With that, stillness came over the scene, broken only by sirens as the Supremes of The Way broke for the shadows, melting from view. It was time to start the real digging for her story.

***

June began investigating at a nearby restaurant, the House of Jade Lanterns. It quickly became clear she was not welcome from the twitchy manager’s frosty reception. Her next stop was a newspaper seller, his wooden stall scorched, no doubt by some recent Supreme conflict. The wizened old man smiled when he understood June’s inquiry. He nodded enthusiastically while decrying the repair bill he faced. Fifty bucks unlocked the snippet of a tale he had to tell. The vendor explained that the creature, Lee Chan to his friends across the community, arrived a few years earlier. Ever since then he had looked out for the people of Little Asia, protecting it with all he had. When June asked about where Lee Chan lived, the vendor shook his head and closed up his stand.

June continued asking around; people knew the Supreme she described, but few were talking. The scraps of information she gathered were at times contradictory, occasionally outlandish, even when benchmarked against the Supreme stories she had covered. One guy said that Lee Chan could never bathe or mirror-copies would spawn. Another explained he should not eat after midnight or he would turn into an evil twisted version of himself. June dismissed that one as she had seen the little creature with her own eyes, and he looked pretty twisted as it was, in a strangely cute way.

The next few days saw June continue trying to put the pieces together. She felt she had a lead connecting Lee Chan to the Grimm, but the whole story felt just out of reach. She had met resistance before, but this was different. The people she talked with smiled proudly when she mentioned Lee Chan’s name, becoming reticent when they realized she was seeking more information.

After another fruitless day, June decided to finish up as dusk encroached. Realizing she was a few blocks from her car, she spotted a narrow alleyway to use as a short-cut. It was dimly lit by hanging decorative lanterns, but June could handle herself so was content to press on. Halfway down the passage hairs on the back of her neck rose. She was being followed. June turned to see two shadowy figures. Ninjas! The city was crawling with rent-a-Ninjas in the past few years, so she had no idea who had sent them. Suddenly, she heard a familiar ‘Ki-ya’ shout as a short figure in a yellow jumpsuit blurred past her. June watched fascinated as Lee Chan swiftly knocked out the Ninjas with well-placed strikes and kicks. When the little creature was sure the would-be assailants were subdued, he turned to June and gave a toothy grin, accompanied by two thumbs up. He then barreled his way from the alley and was lost in the twilight.

June did not file her story. Little Asia had its protector, who did what he could for anyone in the area, even those just passing through. The community wanted to keep their shared secret about their unique guardian. June realized that she would not be the one to expose the tale. She thought about her little savior and how strongly his neighborhood protected him, and smiled as she wiped her tapes.

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