Hiding in Daylight

Chapter 2

Every step Bertha took seemed to sink deeper into the sticky mud, as she moved cautiously through the murky terrain. The night in the dark woods was far from quiet, the sound of countless wildlife surrounded her. She felt the ground squelch beneath her boots, the water slowly finding its way through the fabric and soaking her socks. The only source of light was her flashlight cutting through the darkness.

"I wonder if I am still headed in the right direction. It's been suspiciously long since I saw any dead animals.", she murmured to herself.

She had been walking now for hours, barely taking any breaks beside the biological necessary ones. Carrying her stealth camping equipment, Bertha knew the importance of prioritizing the mission. Her gear was lightweight and designed for minimal noise, allowing her to move silently through the dense undergrowth. The night vision goggles perched atop her head granted her some kind of advantage, amplifying the faint moonlight filtering through the trees.

Bertha pressed forward, but she couldn't shake the feeling that time was slipping through her fingers. The thought of the Böxenwolf prowling the forest ahead, its predatory instincts dooming anyone that crossed paths with it. The memory of past crime scenes sent a chill down her spine. She knew that she had to catch up with it before she lost its tracks, leaving only traces of its passing behind.

As Bertha trekked through the forest, her mind wandered back to the countless cases she had pursued over the years, each one leaving its mark upon her soul.

She remembered the ghosts of the children, that got killed by their mother, their mournful wails still echoing in her ears. With a shiver, she recalled the chill of their presence, the sense of unease that had felt when she had to put an end to their misery.

Then there were the albs and mare, spiritual beings that liked to play their games with unsuspecting humans. Very powerful beings, but still preferable to any kind of ghost. Though they had gotten close one time, she had emerged victorious, driving them back into their own dimension.

And who could forget the magician, a very skilled one at that. Bertha had pursued him through bustling cities and remote villages, but in the end, it was not magic that had brought him to justice, but rather the barrel of a gun. The lesson she had learned that day was that no matter how powerful a magician was, their weakness was still being human.

As she pressed on through the dense undergrowth, the weight of exhaustion settled heavy on her shoulders. Each step felt heavier than the last, while she pushed herself on. The chill of the night air seeped into her bones, sending shivers down her spine despite the layers of clothing she wore.

Her senses were heightened as usual when walking through the night forest. She scanned the shadow, aware that she was still the prey in this setting. A rustle to her left drew her attention, and she froze, muscles taut with anticipation, ready to dash away from danger if need be. With a steady hand, she reached for her knife, which was only centimeters from being a dagger.

As she crept closer to the area she suspected the beast, Bertha's heart quickened. The air was thick with the scent of damp earth and decay, mingling with the tang of moss and foliage. Her instincts screamed for her to run, reminding her that in the wilderness, one wrong move could mean the difference between hunter and hunted.

She took a deep breath, before jumping through the bushes, her knife piercing any potential threat. But to her surprise and relief, she only met the resistance of air. Looking around, she noticed two crows on the ground, picking at the cadaver of a small deer.

Bertha came closer, kneeling next to it, causing the crows to fly away in protest. Her eyes moved over the caucus, analyzing every detail. She immediately noticed the glaring wound on its side, that could only be the result of some kind of large beast - or worse.