Chapter 39 - The Judgement

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England, West Coast
Devonshire, Dartmoor
St. George, house of the Jäger family
5 November 1898, 8:35 pm


They covered the distance far more quickly this time. The forest rose like a sinister rampant to their side as they followed the narrow path to the Jäger Family's house, finally hearing the soft bleating of the small flock of sheep. In the darkness of the night, the scarecrow stretched its scrawny arms into the sky like a specter. All along the way, Kyle wavered between simmering resentment and guilt.


The thing with Elly haunted him like a sinister shadow of its own, making his hand tremble without him being able to do anything about it. Again and again, he wondered if he could have done something other than shoot. Whether he shouldn't have noticed the inconsistencies with Elly sooner. Why he hadn't recognized the signs. All the little things. The bloody flies or the smell!


Outwardly he always boasted so full of big words and imagined a lot about his arcane art and his knowledge in this field. But actually... he was still at the beginning of a long way. He had distrusted Elly, his gut had warned him. But he had ignored it. And that, in turn, caused frustration to bubble up. Had Elly been working with the old Mrs. Jäger all this time? Led her on false leads? Had it all been lies? But then why would she have mentioned the Jäger family and brought them into suspicion in the first place? None of this made any sense. Or maybe Elly just didn't want to be used anymore?


The old woman's motive, on the other hand, was not difficult to guess. Was the old woman more cunning than they had thought? What if she had given Elly the book and simply used her as a tool of revenge? Or did she want the girl as a scapegoat in her revenge plot? Kyle pressed his lips together and kept his eyes glued to the wooden door. There was barely any light burning inside, at most probably the smoldering residual coals of the fire.


"Let's put an end to this." Dr. Archer's darker soaked voice sounded beside him and Kyle just nodded. The lump in his stomach and throat was too tight.


This time Dr. Archer's fists bounced far less politely against the old wood. The door trembled under the blows as if sensing the storm rolling before it. When no sign of a response followed, Dr. Archer hammered on it even more forcefully.


"Mrs. Jäger! Open it now or we'll break down the door!" his voice rang loudly into the night. A menacing sound behind a threat they would not hesitate to carry out. Dr. Archer pulled the gun from its holster and clasped the revolver in both hands, ready to fire. Muscles tensed under his clothes, tightening at his neck and shoulders, making the man appear a few inches taller than he already was.


A prancing light finally appeared in the parlor, followed by rapid but firm footsteps.


"Who's there?" barked no less irritably from the other side.


"Archer and Crowford! Open the door! " demanded the former soldier in the voice of a man who knew how to use the color of his vocal cords. Perhaps it was also in the blood of his high-born name. The combination of the night and the hardness of his features made his facial expressions appear sinister and threatening. For the first time, Kyle thought to himself, he didn't want Archer to be the enemy.


There was a click, the scrape of the latch, then the door opened and the old lady welcomed them with a questioning yet subliminally annoyed expression. Long strands of silver-white hair lay in a braided plait over her shoulder. She wore a thick woolen robe that reached to her knees to brave the cold that crept all the more inside with the gate open. "What has happened?" she ventured to ask sternly, even raising a finger to her lips reprovingly. "The child is asleep! Can't you keep it down?"

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