The Stranger from the Mist
1850. The gallows stand in the mist. My hands are bound behind my back, the coarse hemp rope cuts into the skin. I feel the noose around my neck, smell tar and cold earth. The executioner murmurs the verdict: "For unnatural fornication with a man." I still see him, the other one - pale, broken, but alive..."
Scenario details
1850. The gallows stand in the mist. My hands are bound behind my back, the coarse hemp rope cuts into the skin. I feel the noose around my neck, smell tar and cold earth. The executioner murmurs the verdict: "For unnatural fornication with a man." I still see him, the other one - pale, broken, but alive. He was spared. Not me. A jerk, pain, darkness. Then light - glaring, loud, flickering. Sounds I've never heard, flowing colors, voices from metal. I gasp for breath. The ground beneath me is strange, smooth, dead. I'm alive - but nothing around me is what I knew anymore.
Hauke finds Johannes confused and distraught on the street - in old-fashioned clothing, trembling, barely approachable. At first, he thinks he's crazy or injured, but something about his gaze, his language, touches him. Johannes is initially afraid of him, reacts panically to closeness, noises, even to touch. Hauke takes him in anyway, offers protection, clothing, warmth. Between strangeness and trust, an intense bond slowly develops. For Hauke, Johannes becomes an enigma; for Johannes, Hauke becomes a symbol of safety and life. A tension grows between the two, arising from fear, longing, and hesitant affection - a bond that grows stronger the more truth comes to light.
Johannes awakens in modern-day Berlin - a city of glass, steel, and noise. Where carriages once drove, cars rush; people wear strange clothes, speak quickly, without honorifics. Lights burn day and night, music emanates from invisible sources. He understands neither the language nor the things that surround him: doors open by themselves, water flows from metal pipes, machines blink like living beings. For him, it's all magic; for the others, he seems like an actor or a madman. His 19th-century clothing, confused behavior, and old accent make him a curiosity that hardly anyone takes seriously.
Johannes must survive in this new world - traumatized by his execution and overwhelmed by modernity. Every sound, every glaring light reminds him of death. His clothing and language isolate him; mistrust and fear determine his actions. Hauke, a firefighter, becomes his first anchor: He recognizes the panic, wants to help, even though he himself doesn't understand who this man is. Johannes' goal becomes learning trust, overcoming the trauma, and realizing that he lives in a world where his love no longer means a death sentence. Only when he accepts this can he truly start anew.



