#hey this has like actual 6it plot-relevant stuff

[misscrazyfangirl321]

OC-Tober Day 24: Teeth

OC: Flora Silverton

Fandom: Grimm

Pairings: None, really. Except possibly Flora/her frying pan, because that’s the real OTP of this universe. 

Warnings: Violence

@oc-growth-and-development

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She’s just starting to think about dinner-does she want to cook, or let Sean pay for her takeout again?-when she hears it: glass shattering in the living room. She starts to run toward it, realizes that she’s becoming the girl in the horror movies who dies first, and quickly scrambles back to the staircase. 

“Diana?” She shouts, wishing altogether that she lived in a world where her default wasn’t call the seven year old for help, because whatever you’re dealing with, she can handle it better than you. No reply, and Flora winces. Now, whoever’s in here knows where she is, for sure. 

A growl fills the air, and she gasps, scrambling back up the stairs. The first thing she learned here was that the “monsters” were just shapeshifting people, like some sort of weird Scooby-Doo thing, but that sound wasn’t entirely human. And sure, maybe Monroe didn’t sound totally human when he woged, but this is different. 

Chilling. 

The creature who bursts into the room, bypassing the perfectly good open door to charge through the wall, definitely isn’t Wesen. Or if it is, Eve seriously forgot to mention something. Because this thing is running around on all fours, wrecking everything in sight, growling and snarling as it goes. 

For a split-second, she hopes it hasn’t noticed her, and resumes her trek up the stairs. Then it looks up, eyes blood-red and wild, and starts right for her. 

She’s nearly halfway up when it catches her in its teeth, hurling her over the side of the staircase. Her shoulder hits the ground with far too much force, and pain shoots through her body, but she doesn’t have the luxury of worrying about it just then. The creature doesn’t seem to be going after Diana; thankfully(?), it’s after her. 

The kitchen is closest, and she runs as fast as she can, ignoring the aching in her legs and the tightness in her chest. Fear and running are a terrible combination. It’s right on her heels, and she slams the door shut behind her, hoping to at least buy a few split seconds. With one hand, she grapples for her phone. With the other, she starts opening drawers. And man, it’s cool that Renard likes everything to be organized, but just at the moment, she’d kill for a little disorganization: a blender sitting out on the counter, maybe. Or a knife. Or-

With a sickening crack, the door flies open, and the creature follows her in. There’s nowhere to go, nothing to do, and it’s far too close, teeth bared, breath foul. She’s going to die here, and-

No, she isn’t. She has half a second to be thankful when she opens the latest drawer before she reaches inside, grabbing the closest thing she can get her hands on: a cast-iron frying pan. 

It’s heavier than she expects, and it takes a moment to lift it; by then, the creature is right in front of her, nearly touching, and there is nothing to do but bring the frying pan down on its head as hard as she can. 

Somehow, she expects it to be impervious, like some sort of horror movie creature, but it collapses instantly, and she stares. For a terrible second, she wonders if she killed it-and sure, okay, it was trying to kill her, but still-but it breathes in and out, clearly unconscious but somehow alive. 

… Slightly horrifying, but okay. What exactly is its skull made of? 

She draws in a steadying breath, then returns her attention to her phone, ready to finally call Eve (or Sean) (or both), when a sound from the living room catches her attention. Someone’s in the house. This definitely sounds like a someone; the footsteps sound human enough. Unfortunately, in her experience, that isn’t always better. 

Clutching the frying pan in one hand, she draws back behind the counter. Crouching. Waiting. 

“Flora?” A voice calls, and she sighs, relief flooding her. Hank. She rises to her feet, and sure enough, not only Hank but Nick, Sean, and Wu stand there, taking in the wreckage in concern. 

“I got an alert about the alarm,” Sean explains. “Diana okay?”

She manages a nod. “Yeah. It wasn’t interested in her.”

Wu looks at her, at the frying pan, and down at the creature. “So,” he deadpans, “what’s for dinner?” 

(The creature, it turns out, is a Bandersnatch. A freaking Bandersnatch, because that’s somehow completely normal in her life now. Little is known about it; it’s under the command of the Red Queen, and it seeks out her gravest enemies (“Excuse me? I’m a tutor,” Flora protests. “I’m not even Wesen.”). It rarely leaves survivors. 

Much more concerning is what Diana says, when she stumbles downstairs in tears. “I couldn’t wake up,” she sobs, rushing into Flora’s arms. “I knew you needed help, but the Bandersnatch wouldn’t let me wake up.” 

What, exactly, is this creature? What are they dealing with? 

… Regardless, Flora’s not putting this frying pan down anytime soon.) 

#oc-tober #flora silverton #grimm #my fics #my writing #my works #mine #6it #hey this has like actual 6it plot-relevant stuff