It started like any other camping trip.

Dad always chose a place protected from Grimm.

We weren't prepared.

The Grimm killed everyone.

It was all so sudden, one moment we were laughing and having fun by our campfire.

Then the screams started.

Dad stayed to keep us safe.

He died.

Mom tried to get us to safety.

She died.

My older sisters did what they could.

They died.

I tired to keep my younger sisters alive till we got to safety.

They died.

Everyone died.

I couldn't save anyone.

My family was dead.

When I was crying, curled up in ball on the ground in the forest, a Grimm walk over to me.

I was going to die.

The Grimm probably knew I'd given up, it didn't rush to kill me.

As the Grimm puts its face over me, I thought faintly of living, of not dying.

The small hand of my 13-year-old body didn't even budge it.

Then something did happen.

I saw my family dying, I saw the death the Grimm caused, I remembered my dream, my dream to be a Huntsmen, to be a Hero, to kill Grimm.

The Grimm bit down on my body, I felt Pain.

But it's wasn't from the Grimm, it was coming from my hand.

The hand that was trying to push the Grimm off me.

The glowing red eyes of the Grimm faded, then its body, the Pain didn't.

It spreaded to my other hand.

The grass on the ground dried up and crumbled.

The ground itself turned grey and cracked.

When I finally looked at my hands to see what was causing the Pain.

I saw a white glow surrounding my body, up to my wrists, on my hands was a black mist.

After a while of the Pain died down. Then I just felt numb and cold.

I'm pretty sure I blacked out after that.

When I woke up, the forest was Dead.

{Prologue End.}

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