Spring 1844 – Mrs. Witgarden’s Uninvited Guest

I followed it out the window. It moved with a swiftness that seemed unlikely from such a small and twisted figure. I barely glimpsed it before it dashed around the garden wall. 

I jumped, up and over the wall, landing directly in the homunculus’ path. It slashed at me with its staff. I jumped back but the hook on the staff’s end caught at my skirts and tore.