Chapter Text
Johanna led a perfectly secluded existence. No ‘friends’ to keep up with their miserable lives and pathetic gossip. No useless family drivel. No partner that’s constantly in her way and no children infuriatingly nagging for her attention. She did not understand why others craved it so much. That domestic life, to be tied down for eternity. It made her stomach churn, fill her mouth with the sour taste of vomit. Absolutely revolting.
At the edge of the large city of Minrathous, Johanna had homed herself in a small abandoned hut. It wasn’t anything big as she thought she deserved, but it was shelter at the least. No, Johanna thought it was only justified she lived in a manor. Something haunting and old, filled with a large amount of books and way too many passages. The garden overgrown with ivy and a crypt in the basement. She could already envision the grandeur of the place. The large columns throughout the house to carry it’s weight,the ancient aura produced by the collected dust and the stretched main hall to hold a soirée for her esteemed guests.
Ah, yes.
But unfortunately she was stuck in her stupid hut. But at least, she was alone.
Her appearance showed her age. Johanna had tied her thick gray hair into a messy bun on top of hear head. Creases had formed around her mouth and eyes. And her skin had gotten saggy underneath her upper arms and around her throat. Her eyesight had gotten so bad, she needed thick prescription glasses. Big round ones, balancing on her nose. She did not age gracefully, but rather looked like a dried prune with googly eyes.
She had a cup of tea clasped in her hands, a blend of camomile and lavender to settle down for the day. Johanna watched the evening news on her small television. She sat on her old and worn sofa, the springs close to bursting through the fabric. Her chapped lips pulled into a thin line and a scoff escaped her throat when an interviewer asked an excruciatingly stupid question about another vile massacre committed in the Minrathous slums.
“Pah,” Johanna sneered at the screen, gesturing with her hand. “Those old meddling fools don’t even know what they’re doing.”
She had obviously already solved the crime. The slums is where the crime syndicate The Threats operates. And no doubt they would have something to do with this one as well. Johanna took a gulp of her tea with a loud slurp. The rain batted against the windows of Johanna’s too small and overgrown cottage. Wind howled around her small home, like a wolf singing to a full moon. Johanna had ignited a few candles around her house and dimmed the lights. She preferred to sit in the dark, but her old eyes could no longer see clearly in dusk or dark.
Her eyelids grew heavy, she felt herself sink into the cushions of the old couch. The bedroom of her one story home was just a few steps away, and yet she rather wallowed in the thought of falling asleep right where she was. Just as she was about to shut her eyes, she saw something move from the corners of her eyes. A dark figure, looming outside er window and staring right at her.
Johanna jolted upright, wide awake again. Her large, toad like eyes all but popped from their sockets as she stared at the glass panes. In a flash of doubt, she questioned her own sanity. But no, she was a woman with an absolutely brilliant mind. There was no way that her head would be playing tricks on her. And so she rose from the couch, grumbling to herself. Her lips pursed into a thin line. She put on her thick coat, long boots and grabbed her lantern, igniting the candle within with a match. It illuminated the path into the soggy swamp.
Squinting her eyes, she peered into the infinite dark of the night. The gloaming of her lantern was barely enough to help her see. The grass underneath her feet sloshed as she stepped out into the cold autumn air.
“Who is there?” Johanna lifted the lantern to eye level. “Show yourself, you coward!”
The dark remained remarkably quiet. No rustle in the trees, no dripping of the final raindrops falling from the sky. The wind had stopped blowing, the clouds stopped moving. As if nature was holding it’s breath for what was about to come next.
Johanna continued into the open field. Circles of her breath condensed when it left her parted lips. Her fingers flexed around the handle of her lantern, her eyes narrowed even further until they were almost closed. This must be some elaborate prank, she thought to herself. Some youngsters trying to draw her out. Her home was one often plagued by children from the slums of Minrathous who tried to ding-dong ditch. Their efforts always in vain, because Johanna’s golden ears heard them coming long before they could reach the door.
A loud snap of a branch had Johanna twirl on her heels.
“Why are you hiding?” Johanna bellowed. She lifted her lantern to eye level, as if the gloaming could help her see any better in the dark. “Come out and face me like the milksop you are!”
Her voice carried far across the wet plains and echoed against the few trees and rocks. Johanna strutted forwards, further away from her house. With every step, her soles sunk into the mud. The fire inside her lantern flickered, before it extinguished completely. Shrouded in the dark, Johanna cursed. She turned back, her house clearly within sight.
“Hellish kids,” Johanna mumbled to herself.
Her wretched boots got stuck, glued themselves tightly into the wet surface. Johanna pulled and pulled, unable to move either of her feet. Until eventually one of them lifted with such force she lost her balance. With a loud splash she fell over backwards, catching herself with her hands. Sudden rapid footsteps sped towards her. Johanna turned to look at the weasel that had been tracking her.
And with a loud ear piercing screech echoing across the swamps, Johanna’s hunt for her stalker stopped. Silence followed, even nature surrounding held it’s breath.