The night envelops the city around Elizabeth, as she sprints through this cobblestone maze of shadows and echoes, every step driven by an urgent desperation that propels her forward like a force beyond her control. She is a solitary figure against the backdrop of an uncaring night, moving with the relentless determination of one who knows there is no time to spare.
The mayors heart pounds in rhythm with each stride, a frantic drumbeat echoing the terror and resolve churning within her soul. The thought of her daughter consumes every fiber of her being, igniting a fierce fire that propels her through the darkness.
Elizabeth struggles against the tide of disbelief as Edmund's words swirl around her mind like a malevolent storm. She desperately searches for reasons why he would speak such a distasteful lie. But deep down, she knows Edmund—kind-hearted, prankish boy that he was—would never intentionally deceive her.
Yet, there are fragments of his confession that gnaw at the edges of her certainty: "I couldn't stop them." Those words pierce through her denial like shards of glass. She recalls the faint bruises marring Edmund's face and sees them in an entirely new light. It was not mischief or carelessness that left those marks—it was a violent struggle to protect Anne from Wilhelm and Peter.
As she runs, fueled by panic and urgency, Elizabeth's mind races back over recent days with Anne. Subtle shifts begin to surface: Changes in her daughter's smile, the irritability creeping into her once cheerful demeanor. It all began five weeks ago.
Then there was a momentary darkness in her daughter's expression when she heard the tale of the Grimm Count. Elizabeth berates herself for missing these signs, for not recognizing the danger that crept so quietly into their lives.
Lost in a whirlwind of emotions, Elizabeth finds herself jolted back to reality with the sudden clatter of opening doors. Her heart pounds as she bursts into her daughter's room, only to find it hauntingly empty—a sight that confirms her worst fears.
The commotion echoes through the house, pulling Felicity from the depths of sleep and sending her rushing to investigate. Her eyes meet those of Elizabeth at the threshold of Anne's vacant chamber. Her heart sinks as she sees the despair etched deeply into her daughter's face. It is clear to Felicity without a word being spoken that something catastrophic has befallen her beloved granddaughter.
Before Felicity could gather the words, Elizabeth crumples to the floor, overwhelmed by an emotional storm too fierce to contain any longer. The truth Edmund had shared hung heavy in the air, undeniable and crushing.
Felicity kneels beside her daughter, enveloping her head gently with her hands that seek to offer solace amidst the chaos of grief. In this moment, questions hold no power; all Felicity yearns for is to provide comfort to Elizabeth, to be a pillar of strength in her time of profound sorrow. She simply sits there, allowing her daughter to weep without constraint, embracing her tightly.
Time seems suspended as Elizabeth spends it within the comforting embrace of her mother's arms. She feels gentle calm wash over her turbulent emotions, allowing her to gather herself once more. Her daughter is still out there; there are mysteries yet unsolved that must be faced with resolve.
With a mixture of sorrow and determination burning in her eyes, Elizabeth wipes away lingering tears and leans into Felicity's comforting hold. With gratitude for the love she has received, she stands up, drawing strength from her mother's support. It is not time to grieve—not yet—but time to act.
Determined, the mayor heads towards the police station once more.
— — —
Hugo sits diligently at his desk as he documents the day's events in meticulous detail. The station door swings open, and Elizabeth strides in, her determined face a mask that brooks no pity or sympathy from her surroundings.
Hugo stands up to offer condolences, but his words die on his lips as he takes in her resolute countenance.
The mayor strides past him, making a beeline for Lleuad's cell.
Inside the cell, Lleuad sits on his bed, bathed in the soft glow of moonlight that filters through the bars. As he hears approaching footsteps, he rises gracefully to his feet and turns to face the prison bars.
Elizabeth's figure fills the frame, her eyes burning with a fierce intensity. "What happened to my daughter?" she demands, her voice low and urgent.
Lleuad, his posture calm yet resolute, replies softly, "The Grimm Count granted her powers."
Elizabeth snaps back instantly, her disbelief clear. "Stop bullshitting me!" Her words echo off the cold walls, filled with fury and incredulity.
Lleuad's gaze remains steady as he responds, "How do you explain the claw marks on Jules' body? Do you think your daughter is capable of the violence required to make four delinquents disappear?"
Elizabeth's gaze falters for an instant before flashing with defiance. "How am I supposed to believe that my daughter was visited by a character from a fairy tale?"
Lleuad's face hardens into an expression of grave seriousness, his eyes reflecting the depths of his convictions. "Lestat Germaine is real!" he declares with unyielding certainty. "So are the Grimm he commands! I have witnessed many lives lost by his cruel scheme." His voice carries a weight that underscores the gravity of their predicament. "I came to this village primarily to stop whoever was seduced by his power from meeting their cruel fate," he continues, his tone shifting subtly as he considers the human element of their struggle.
Lleuad's unwavering dedication stirs something within Elizabeth. The flicker of hope that emerges isn't just for her daughter but extends to every life entangled in this nightmare. With a newfound resolve, Elizabeth sets aside her doubts. "Alright… Suppose what you are saying is true. How can we stop her?"
Lleuad's eyes, sharp and focused, lock onto hers. "To avoid any more casualties, we'll have to force her to come to us," he explains with a pragmatic calm. "For that, we need to gather every single resident in one place. She will definitely attack the next night because she didn't get what she needed from Jules."
Elizabeth's brow furrows in thought as she considers Lleuad's words. "Ok. I should be able to gather most of the residents. The delinquents will be the main problem. They rarely listen to adults." Her voice takes on a hint of frustration, her eyes flashing with annoyance. "I don't know of any way to bring them over except by force. But that will take too much time, and we would most definitely miss some."
In the dimly lit cell, Edmund listens intently to the exchange between Lleuad and Elizabeth. The walls seem to close in as he realizes Anne is the very monster they're trying to thwart. Thoughts of Lleuad's promises to save her echo within him. Gathering his resolve, Edmund declares with conviction, "I can do it. I can gather everyone!"
Elizabeth and Lleuad pivot toward the cell door, their expressions etched with surprise and curiosity as they behold Edmund's resolve.
Elizabeth's voice is tinged with cautious optimism, "Are you sure?"
Edmund nods firmly, his gaze unwavering from hers. "Yes! Lleuad, can you really save Anne?" His question hangs in the air, loaded with hope yet underscored by doubt.
Elizabeth turns to Lleuad, her eyes searching for an answer, surprised by Edmund's inquiry. She notes a momentary hesitation in the Storytellers demeanor—a flicker of uncertainty that doesn't escape her observant gaze.
The Storyteller finally responds, his voice steady yet tinged with realism, "I will try."
"Then so will I," Edmund asserts, determination etched on every feature. He addresses Elizabeth directly, his voice resolute. "Ms. Granger. I failed to protect Anne when she needed me the most. I will not abandon her again! Please let me help!"
Elizabeth studies Edmund's intense gaze, seeing a wellspring of courage and resolve within him. With a nod, she concedes, placing her trust in his steadfast determination. "I will leave the delinquents in your hands then."
The mayor signals Hugo discreetly from across the room. Officer Bleier approaches, his demeanor composed yet attentive as he receives instructions to unlock both cells. As doors creak open, the group convenes in the lobby.
Elizabeth surveys the assembled faces, her tone pragmatic as she queries, "Where do we want to gather the delinquents?"
Lleuad considers carefully before replying, his voice thoughtful. "Someplace that can be easily protected and evacuated if needed. We should also keep the delinquents separate from the rest of the residents, since Anne will probably still target them. But we should keep both groups close enough so we don't stretch our resources too thin."
Elizabeth nods in agreement. "The Town Hall should work then. We can place the delinquents inside while the rest can gather in the town square below. That way, we will be one step away from protecting both when the time comes."
Hugo chimes in, his voice measured. "I can get in touch with every able-bodied person to secure the square. We should keep our true intentions secret from most people to avoid panic."
Elizabeth nods in agreement as Officer Bleier continues. "Then we need a reason for gathering everyone in one place." As she says these words, her eyes light up, "And I have something in mind."