Klaus Haugen was born on a hillside in Norway. One of seven children. Oldest of four boys, but stuck in between some of the girls. He tended to the farm and helped his sisters clean and take care of the other children. And when his time came, he prepared to set off for war. Because he was a Viking. Just like his father. And his father’s father. That’s the way things went. They fought and maybe returned to have more Vikings and farm more land and fish more waters and fight more wars.
So before he set sail, he married Geeta, the girl from the farm next door. He was 19. The year was 937(ish) A.D. They had a feast and got drunk and slept in a new barn the family just built for them on their new plot of land between the two farms.
Two days later he said his goodbyes to Geeta and set sail.
Klaus returned about nine months later to find Geeta about six months pregnant. He wasn’t a scholar by any means, but he knew enough to know that the situation he returned to wasn’t quite right. When he confronted Geeta (the details on whether or not he was weidling his axe change from retelling to retelling) to get information on who he needed to kill for violating his wife, he was struck from behind with something heavy, and before he completely blacked out, he saw his younger brother running to check on Geeta to make sure she and his baby were safe. The last thing he remembers from being alive was seeing the rock fall from his brother’s hand.
–
JoAnna goes through her routine of checking schedules and filing paperwork. Ordering supplies for the non-living, Facebook stalking her ex – the usual. She hears the GTO’s engine revving at the stop light. The tires peel out. Then it’s silent. And while she doesn’t get the same chill from Marianne, she knows it’s a few seconds before Klaus is in her office.
“Minnesota won last night,” he exclaims. Klaus stands in the middle of JoAnna’s cubicle and makes an incredibly loud battle cry while slinging a battle axe around his head.
“You’re not supposed to have that in here, you know that,” she reminds him.
“I’ve seen some terrible things. Terrible. And I mean, I’ve been in some crazy fights. But I’ve never seen anything like American Football.”
His accent is that of someone from Wisconsin. And sometimes if he talks really fast, it sounds a little Canadian. It’s heaviness has faded some over the years.
“And so, since the Vikings of Minnesota claimed victory over the Lions of Detroit, we will celebrate!” Klaus claps his hands in a victory only he appreciates. JoAnna procures two full sized Snickers from the desk drawer. Because even if the Vikings of Minnesota lose, then they must drown their sorrows in two full sized Snickers bars.
Klaus waits for JoAnna to print out his paperwork while he asks her about her weekend.
“Same ol nothing,” she sighs as puts together his docket. JoAnna is in charge for the schedules of all of the Reapers. While she is not privy to the exact details of a death, she does put together the person, minor details, and Must Expire By date. Who knows what kind of ectoplasmic ink is used, because she can’t actually read anything. Can’t have any human intervention. But she has enough information to print the files to get the job done and then store the files when the work is complete. As long as she tells herself it’s just paperwork, she doesn’t worry too much about it. It’s not like she has to do work on the 9th floor – Natural Disasters and Large Scale Events.
“You need to get out. See the world. Get laid at least,” Klaus advises. He sweeps his long blonde hair out of his face and examines his beard in her desk mirror. While he still has the looks of a 19 year old Scandinavian – thin, tall, and blonde – he likes to dispense wisdom from time to time, reminding JoAnna that he has been around the living for centuries.
“As they say,” he continues, “life is short.” He taps the back of his head as he exits her cubicle.