Kicking the door down, I saw a man in his late forties, shaking a young woman on the ground by her shoulders. The witch, dressed in a black overall dress and wearing a pointy hat, sat on a chair watching them in silence. Upon taking another step, I realized the woman lying on the ground had blood all over her. She was bleeding heavily from her vagina and wasn't drawing any breath.
Haruko and I moved closer into the room. The witch's house was dimly lit by a single flickering candle, the air thick with the scent of herbs and incense. Shelves lined the walls, filled with jars of mysterious ingredients and ancient tomes.
"We were late," I said.
"Mm…" Haruko confirmed. "Damn it."
"No, no, no," the father cried, looking at his daughter. "No… God, no. No!"