Chapter Text
This wasn't the mild and magic midsummer-night you had imagined. Actually, you weren't so sure of how exactly you had imagined it, but – not like that. Definitely not. First of all, it should be summer and, well, night.
Something had gone terribly wrong. Tremendously so.
Usually the magic you worked didn't so much as sometimes change matters minimally, if it even worked at all. This went for mojo-bags or spell-jars to protect your home or just – any magic, since you were, frankly, not as active as a witch as you wished you'd be.
Of course you knew that your small successes would feel like enormous ones to others, but you always aspired for fast, big results – very well aware of the fact that magic just didn't work that way. For nobody. Never. At least not that you knew.
Still you had expected something else to happen but that.
Probably you just should have stayed away from messing around with time itself.
But everything had sounded so appealingly easy – the simple items, no dramatic big spell you had to recite, the efficiency of it all. As a student of medicine and working part-time you very seldom had time for time consuming magic, staring for hours on candles burning down or waiting for nightfall to work a spell. These were luxurious things to you.
So you'd bought a little skull fashioned flask, as well as blue, black and violet candles. There were enough dried herbs at your place and you'd found a broken pocket watch at your grandmothers attic. She'd probably forgotten about that thing, so you'd taken it. If she wanted it back, you would have to dig it up again – no big deal. On a white paper you'd written down the intent of the spell.
And that, well, that probably – most likely – had been the cause of this mess.
With best intentions you had wanted to change your past so your family wouldn't suffer from poverty the way they did. Though, in retrospect, you definitely should have written down the exact date. Obviously writing “Take me where I'm most useful” had not been your best idea and there was nobody but you to blame for what had happened.
Though, you didn't really know what had happened.
Of course you could still hope to have lost your mind, but that just didn't make sense to you. Strange, you thought, that I can believe in timetravel but not in losing my own mind. Probably I've already gone mad.
Cold wind was tugging on your clothes and the soft rustling in the undergrowth unfortunately didn't sound like something a lunatic would experience the way you did. Only wearing your crop top and silk shorts you felt a stinging cold, goosebumps appearing on your arms. At least the sun was shining and somehow warming you, so you wouldn't have to freeze – just now.
Slowly you picked yourself up and took a careful look around. That hole you'd been crawling through – also, in retrospect, not a very clever thing to do while working a spell, right? - was gone. Or at least hidden so well you wouldn't find it again. Truth be told, you had no interest whatsoever to get in there again. Being in there had been giving you the distinct feeling of that one scene from Kill Bill II in which Uma Thurman had to work her way out of that coffin. At least there had been no coffin for you.
You checked your pocket for anything. Empty. Of course. You had not taken anything with you except the candles, the pocket watch and the flask.
Sighing you took a few steps, noticing just how untouched the forest around you seemed to be. Even the small path you were walking on. You decided to follow it since you couldn't stay here forever. Nightfall would eventually come and you had no desire whatsoever to be in a forest you didn't know at night.
So you followed that path which would hopefully lead you into civilisation again. And maybe, just maybe, you were still close to your village – though you really dared to doubt that the year was 1988.
A vile feeling in your guts told you that this had not worked out at all.
Considering the weather, this day wasn't all too bad. The sun was shining, though not too warm, but still pleasantly; birds were chirping and flying above your head, in between the trees you could see rabbits bolting around on their run from foxes.
Realizing what you were seeing, you stared at the animals. The trees and fragrant shrubs. The blue sky. Then, again, the animals which crossed your way fearlessly. Well, not completely fearless, but there were so many of them here some just had to run by close to you.
In your mind you crossed out every year coming after 1930.
You wondered if you should prevent Hitlers' birth. Was that your mission? And here you just wanted to convince your parents to take a different loan for your later home.
All around was almost a terrible silence, apart from the noise the animals caused. No engine noises, no vibrato from too many people occupying a place. As far as you could see there were only trees, shrubs, fragrant herbs and flowers.
This, you decided, didn't really help you either since places like this were everywhere to be found as long as the climate was mild enough. You sighed.
You walked for a little while, taking in the calm serenity of that place as something disturbed that. A distinct thunder, but not like in a storm. Curious as you were, you followed the sound, your stomach filling with unease. You would love to tell yourself that this discomfort was caused by the latte macchiato you did have earlier, but were quite positive that this time the milk had not been sour. In contrast to your judgement.
The surroundings got harsher, there were more rocks, less trees. You found yourself confronted with rough beauty. Everything just seemed so untouched, so pure that you lost any idea of when you were now.
Would there appear a Lexovisarurus behind that rock over there, grunting friendly at you? Would it impale you with its spiky tail? Which, honestly, would serve you well enough. Or would you be confronted with a hungry Utahraptor which considered you a tasty snack?
And what exactly was wrong with you to think about dinosaurs right now? Didn't you have quite other, more urgent matters to take care of? Despite your situation you already were bored again, obviously.
That thunderous sound grew louder and as you went around a bigger rock, blocking the sight of what was about to come afterwards – dinosaurs ahead? - you gulped hard.
Heartattack, hello. I'm done, thank you Mister Potman, get the bill, you thought.
Right in front of you was a huge waterfall. Crystal clear and bright blue, stunning and unfortunately very wrong. Where you lived there were no waterfalls around. None at all, the thing closest to a waterfall was a small stream, feeding the few ponds in your area.
Everybody knows the quote from Sherlock Holmes “When you have eliminated all which is impossible, then whatever remains, however improbable, must be the truth”. Impossible was that you were somewhere near your village or even in your administrative district. But why? What the hell had happened to you to find yourself in this primal surrounding with waterfalls, uncountable animals and no air pollution at all?
But before you could come to a conclusion you heard hooves clatter behind you, together with scrunching hinges and babbling of voices. Obviously a bunch of people on carts was on their way towards you.
Somehow a terrifying idea formed in your head, which you quickly suppressed. Way more pressing was the question whether to hide or not.
Unfortunately the terrain around you was open to such an extend that hiding was no option at all. So you waited for what was to come. What else could you do? Sometimes one had to give in to ones fate and take whatever was there to grab.
Standing on the bank of the waterfall you could see five wains coming your way, swathed in dust. Additionally there were three men on horses if you were not mistaken. If all the wains were occupied by two to three persons then there were at least thirteen people.
You looked down on you, painfully aware of your clothes, and suddenly you felt awfully misplaced. What if these people coming your way were criminals? Rapists or tax defrauders? Paedophiles or sodomites? Why were you still standing there? You decided to get out of there as fast as possible and not to push your luck. But where to go? Almost panicking your looked around, frantically searching for a place to hide or at least a way to run away. There was none – except the river in front of you. If you could get through it you could hide somewhere on the other side. You wondered how deep the river was and how strong the current would be. Would you plunge down the waterfall while trying to cross the river? Was running away worth that risk? Or would you rather get confronted with these people?
As much as you tended to act conflict-laden you also had a habit to perform rash actions. Not a combination you were proud of since the consequences never were all too pretty.
Before you could even think about it properly you found yourself knee deep in the water, wading through the current, feeling something – hopefully a fish – touching your bare leg.
Well, in for a penny, in for a pound. You had to cross that river now. And it wasn't that far anymore, you told yourself.
Still, you were quite aware that those behind you were on horses and thus a tad faster than you, turning your face sour. How on earth could you have thought to outpace them like that? Obviously you had turned your brain off for good and switched to fantasy.
“Mr. Pearson!” A deep voice echoed over the place. “Mr. Pearson, stop the wagon.”
Behind you there was more of hooves clattering audibly, neighing and the sound of clomping through water. Without looking you knew that the horses already were in the river. Shame on me, you thought while halfway turning around.
“Mr. Pearson, are you asleep? We almost ran over that lady.”
The wispy spray made it almost impossible to see anything, but hearing the name had been giving you enough of chills already since it sounded unpleasantly familiar.
The wagons stopped and the spray dissolved slowly; you could hear some complains from the people in the last row. But that was all so far away as you stared at the two men who were now right in front of you, sitting on their wain.
Your heart did some unhealthy, hart beats against your chest and you weren't quite sure if you developed vapors right now or if you would rather gag – you felt your blood leaving your face, your palms sweating as well. You gulped, mouth dry.
Mr. Pearson, of course. That was the cook. And at his side was, of course, dressed in fancy clothes, black shiny vest and a suave attitude, Mr. Dutch van der Linde.
How could you not have recognized his name from the beginning? A shame, considering you had played that game for over one hundred hours. And that was it. That name belonged into a video game. Not into the real world. This was insane.
“D-Dutch van der Linde...”, you stammered weakly while all other sensory input just numbed, there was no cold water around your legs anymore, no breeze freezing off your arms, no fresh air filling your lungs. You took the smallest two steps away from the wagon. In your head there was no place for any thought but a blinking alarm sign screaming Abort Mission – Abort Mission - Abort Mission.