My hand clawed into my friend's. I frowned. It felt kind of weird calling Damon that in my mind. But it felt right. It was right. I gave him a look, he was staring intently at the front door in front of us. We were standing in front of a small brick house that somehow didn't fit in with the rest of the area. It was on the outskirts of Munich, you could hardly count it as part of the city. The forest began about four hundred yards away, and the area was sparsely developed. The name on the bell was: 'Georg Fischer'. Damon squeezed it and a bell rang out, which could also be heard faintly out here. My heart was racing with excitement, fear and curiosity. I would meet my grandfather. My mother's father. I was excited because he was one of my few living relatives, scared because he was a hunter
