A Dark Ending to Hansel and Gretel

~Hansel and Gretel Ending Rewrite~

Once the children were gone, the father was angered at his wife. He would sit outside when she would enter the house. When she would speak to him he would listen and pretend he didn't hear a word she uttered. He loved his children with all of his heart. But his wife decided to be cruel and disgraceful. He would've rather starved to death than send his children - so sweet that brightened his world - into the forest and without a proper goodbye. He couldn't even imagine what they must be feeling, they may have already starved to death.

One night the frustration bundled up and he unleashed it on his wife. He walked to her side of the bed and covered her mouth. Even though they weren't near civilization it just made him feel more comfortable doing so. He raised his hand gripping on a knife high and plunged it into her chest. Over. And. Over. And. Over. Stab. Slash. Stab. It was a bloody and pitiful mess once he was tired out and his muscles ached. 

Curious if his children may somehow have survived he adventured into the forest with most of his food in a sack. As he traveled he got more and more hopeless. He pushed down the negative emotions and strode forward. After a long period of time he found them. 

Stuck with his ever so growling insanity he decided that these two mustn't be his children. They were creatures in skin suits. Not human in any way. The looks in their eyes were predatorial and the blood crusted under their finger nails. The wicked smirks and laughter when they thought he wasn't paying attention to them. They scurried across the floor without making a peep of a sound. Every time he looked at the hay that they said was their 'hair' or the clothes they wore that must've been from plastic, or when he tried to stretch their skin that was made out of rubber. He never did try, but he wondered if the nose and fingers were glued on or mechanical. Either way, they were not his children. Not even human beings.

They would scream and cry whenever he treated them like they should be treated. Inhuman. Monsters. Beasts. Anything but human. The blood that pore out of their arms was some mix of ketchup and water that he couldn't make no matter how hard he tried to understand how they did it. Purple-ish blue splotches painted on themselves whenever they were left alone. Yelling at him about how much all this 'abuse' hurt. And that they were 'human'. He knew they were just trying to keep up that act of theirs. They can't bleed, they don't get bruises, they don't have tears. 

Quickly he became an insomniac. And when he did truly sleep he never had dreams. It was always nightmares. Terrors of the mother killing the children when his back was turned. Or the children rose from the dead and dragged him to the bitter afterlife. 

He was becoming exhausted of everything. The children, the wife, the night terrors. Everything. He turned to the most probable causation of his issues. These things, his 'children' - the beasts- must be the problem! It is there fault that his wife was six feet under. That his real children, humble Hansel and gorgeous Gretel were dead; starved in the forest due to the lack of food there.

 That night the father set up a plan to help him relax a little before dealing with the monsters tomorrow. He put the 'children' to their room for slumber and made himself a small feast. 2 days old sliced bread, mostly dried up vegetables from the garden, and some meat drizzled in ketchup; although it was not ketchup, and the meat was not from any ordinary animal you find served on a platter.

He lived his days in peace from then on. For the next month atleast. No more monsters to terrorize him, forgotten about his wife for a while. It was bliss, or ignorance is bliss I guess. 

Until it dawned to him what trully occurred. He killed his wife, he ate the remains of Hansel, he cooked Gretel into a  side-dish. Guilt hit him hard, and with an unclouded mind he was gone by the morning.