The ache in your arms grew stronger as you rolled out the dough. The sweeping of the broom and the crackling of the fire burning away in the oven were just background noises as you could feel perspiration beading on your forehead. Bringing a hand away from the rolling pin, you wiped the back of your wrist across your forehead, removing the perspiration beginning to form, while also being careful not to get any of the dough on your face.
You couldn't help but glance over your shoulder, checking on the young girl your mother had working for her. She looked downcast, sweeping away any dust from the ground, and putting bones back onto the piles in the corners if any fell or dislodged. You couldn't help but feel a little pity for the younger girl, she looked to be about only eleven or twelve years old. From what you could remember, her name was Gretel while her younger brother's name was Hansel.
Sneaking a glance over your other shoulder, you caught a look at the boy locked in the cage. He seemed bored out of his mind, just fiddling with fraying threads from his clothing and softly squeezing his fingers to see how much weight he'd put on from the constant feedings the candy witch gave him.
Turning your attention back to the dough on the butterscotch counter, you resumed rolling it out, watching as little flecks of chocolate within it disappeared and then reappeared. Once you were short the dough had an even thickness all over, you grabbed a rectangular cutter before beginning to press it into the dough. Moving each cut-out rectangle onto the tray beside you, you continued to roll out the dough and cut out the shape until there was not enough dough left to make anymore. Picking up the tray, you carried it over to the large oven, supporting the tray with one hand, you opened the oven with the other, leaning into the heat inside it as you placed the tray down. Leaning back out you stepped back and closed the door, turning around to go to the sink and wash the dried dough off your hands. However, Gretel is standing straight behind you, clutching the broom so tight her knuckles are turning white.
"Iss zat vat vill happen to Hansel ven zee vitch zinkss he iss fat enough...?" The question catches you off guard, not having expected her to ask about that topic.
Crouching down a little so you'd be at eye level with Gretel, (which isn't too far as she's only a head shorter) you gently place your hand on her shoulder. You can't help but feel pity for her, no children should go through what they're going through, but you can't speak out to your mother.
"It is...but, hey, we're managing to prolong it since Rosina can't see properly," You try to comfort her, tucking a strand of loose hair behind her ear. You look away from her for a moment, sighing softly as you try to think of something else to say. You can't call the candy witch your mother, since the siblings seem to think you're a captive of hers, so using her real name works in its stead. Turning your eyes back to Gretel, you continue, "...but it won't be too much longer until she can't wait anymore."
Standing straight, you hurry over to the sink, washing the dried dough off your hands as a confused Gretel stays stood by the oven. You dry off your hands before going back to her, once again crouching down to her height. You flick your wrist, focusing on crafting the item of thin air. A few sparks fall from your fingertips before two small red candies appear, perfectly round and softly refracting any light that hits them.
"Here, eat one and give the other to your brother," You hold out the candies to Gretel, whom looks at you with wide eyes, clutching the broomstick tighter as she takes a step back.
"You are vorkink vith zee vitch!" She yells, rapidly backing away from you, and you can't help the rush of panic that floods through your body.
"No, no no...! Shhh...!" You hurriedly tried to shush Gretel as you stepped closer, not wanting your mother to come in and see this interaction. "I'm not, these candies are special ones, they'll make you more resistant to flames and heat." You genuinely add on, holding out the candies to the younger girl again, silently hoping that she'll believe you and take them.
Unluckily, it didn't seem she did as Gretel continued to back away from you. She changed her grip on the broom, holding the end with the bristles towards your body at an angle."Lair!" She hissed out, preparing to hit you with the broom if you tried to come closer to her. "You are vorkink vith zee vitch as zee vitches apprentice! You kan use magik!"
Letting out a sigh, you stand up straight, throwing the two candies off to the side where they dissipate into nothing, having no use now. "You can think what you like, but I was trying to help you." You mumble just loud enough for her to hear, before speaking properly, "But you should probably get back to sweeping before Rosina comes in from all the shouting."
Gretel's hold on the broom falters at that, but not even a second later the gingerbread door bursts open. Your mother stood in the doorway, looking very annoyed with all the noise she could hear from the kitchen.
"What's with all the ruckus?!" She demands, looking at both you and Gretel with a stern look. You freeze in place, straightening your posture up more as you face your mother, silently relieved the candies dissipated before she came in.
"I-I was just trying to get Gretel to help me get the biscuit tiles out of the oven so I can finish replacing the stuff she and her brother ate from the house's exterior." You quickly make up an excuse, silently cursing yourself for letting a small stutter slip out.
The candy witch clicked her tongue, turning her body towards Gretel as she dismissed you with a wave of her hand, having believed your excuse. "Well get to it then, I need the oven empty." She turned her head back to look at you again. "But don't take the girl with you, Y/N, I need her to help me."
You nod as the candy witch returned her attention to Gretel, waving the young girl over as you turned away. Moving towards the oven, you slip on a pair of oven mitts before you open the door. Leaning inside you take out the tray, the cookie dough now baked hard and ready to be used as replacement tiles for the consumed bits of the roof.
Placing the tray down on the butterscotch counter, you took off the oven mitts, moving away from the counter as you let the new tiles cool. You approached the room you could hear your mother in, moving into the room to stand at the back.
Gretel was clutching the broomstick close to her chest, stood beside the candy witch, albeit slightly behind. Hansel was holding out the bone we'd given him days ago, the witch feeling it along thinking it was his finger.
Her face scrunched up, increasing the already large amount of wrinkles along it, as she spat into the hearth. "This is taking too long, I can't wait another day!" She yelled, turning away from the cage. "The boy will be my dinner tonight no matter how thin he may be!"
Hansel's face paled as he looked at Gretel, fear evident on the younger sibling's face. The pity you had felt for both wasn't as strong as before, however, it was still quite powerful.
"Girl, follow me," Rosina demanded, moving towards the kitchen and gesturing for Gretel to follow. Gretel trailed behind her, looking a slight bit like a lost puppy, although a much more scared one. Giving one last fleeting glance to the boy locked in the cage, you followed after the two.
They stopped in front of the oven, so you stayed back a bit, lingering over by the back door that led out to the well. The candy witch looked to Gretel with a sly grin, one you'd seen many times and knew what it meant.
"Be a dear and check if it's hot enough for me, will you?" The witch requested a sinister glimmer in her eyes which Gretel didn't fail to notice. You watched the young girl's face pale a little before she looked down, putting the broom to the side of the oven.
"I do not knov hov to tell," Gretel answered, yet that earned a harsh bark from the candy witch, making her flinch.
"Nonsense! Nothing could be easier. Just go inside!" Rosina demanded, becoming annoyed by the girl's fake stupidity, although her old age might be the reason why she couldn't tell if things were fake.
"Schov me hov firsht, please." Gretel slowly requests, resulting in the candy witch spitting in the oven, the saliva evaporating in a second.
"Stupid girl!" She snapped, mumbling to herself in annoyance as she grumbled. "Y/N could tell with no problem, stupid child..." As your mother opened the door, you saw Gretel step closer to her from behind, unaware of what the child may do.
You cleared your throat, gaining the attention of your mother before she leaned into the oven and the attention of Gretel. Knowing that there wasn't much you could do in this situation anyway, you gave up keeping your secret hidden.
"Um, Mother," You began, noticing how Gretel's posture straightened and the young girl's eyes narrowed. "I don't think you should show her how to do it."
Your mother's head cocked to the side a bit, the heat of the open oven casting an eerie orange glow over her from behind. Just as she opened her mouth to respond to you, Gretel whipped back around to face the candy witch and shoved her into the oven.
You stepped back with a gasp as you watched your mother fall back into the burning depths of the oven. But before you could even do anything, Gretel lunged for the door and slammed it shut, quickly placing the broom handle in the latch to keep it from opening.
She whirled back to face you as the yells of the candy witch echoed inside the oven, leaking into your ears and bleeding into your consciousness. You felt dizzy, your head was pounding, you didn't know what to do. You wanted to go and help your mother, get her out of the oven before she was cooked alive like the many children before her, but you feared what this one may do if you tried. No child had fought back against your mother before, and in your fear, you turned to flee.
That was a horrible idea because as soon as your back was to Gretel, you heard fast-paced footsteps coming up behind you. Before you could even move again, something hard hit you over the back of the head with a resounding thump.
Your eyelids flickered as your knees collapsed beneath you, the world spinning and your ears ringing with the pained screams and curses your mother was spewing. You managed to turn yourself around just enough to catch a glimpse of Gretel before your head hit the ground and your vision went dark.
––––––––––––––––––––––––
The young girl stood there, eyes wide and a metal tray in her hands, her knuckles white from how hard she was clenching it. She dropped it, stepping back from the body of the teenage girl unconscious on the ground in front of her. The screams of the old hag she'd shoved into the oven fell deaf upon her ears.
Gretel looked down at her hands, they were shaking, she could feel the tears welling in her eyes even when she shouldn't feel bad for what she'd done. "...Y-you schouldn't feel guilty Gretel...!" She tried to scold herself, denying the reality of what she'd just done. "Sche vas ze daughter of zat vitch, you dit za right zink..."
Despite everything she was telling herself, she turned her head away from the teenager, not able to bring herself to look at her body. Turning away from what she'd done, she casts her gaze back upon the oven. The screams of that...cannibal had gone silent while she was consoling herself.
She walked over to the oven and stood in front of it, staring at its metal door. Her mouth was dry as she tried to produce some saliva, only succeeding after a few moments. Tilting her head back a little, Gretel tried to duplicate what the candy witch had done earlier and spat onto the oven door. But it didn't shoot out in a little ball like the candy witches had, instead, it was a dribble of spit, which she quickly wiped her mouth to remove the trail of.
Turning away from the oven, she fled back into the room her brother was locked within, the cage his prison until she found the key. Gretel had as long as she needed from what she knew, she had killed the witch and most likely her daughter too, so she didn't need to rush, but it'd still be best to get out of the house before nightfall.
––––––––––––––––––––––––
Your ears rang as you brought a hand to your head, a pounding pain throbbing just behind your temples. You squinted your eyes to peek out at your surroundings, trying to regain your bearings, but the light hurt your eyes and the world spun around you, so you quickly closed them again.
You tried to sit up, feeling as if you'd fall back down onto the ground, but you eventually managed to seat yourself on the surprisingly warm ground. You couldn't remember the past things that happened before you woke up, and if you tried, a spike of pain went off behind your eyes.
Giving yourself a bit of time, you let the ringing in your ears tone down and waited till the pain became a dull throb before you tried opening your eyes again. Blinking a couple of times to get used to the light in the room, you looked around where you were.
You were in the kitchen, the oven still on behind you, probably the reason, the floor was so warm. Grabbing onto the counter, you used it to help you stand back up, your legs a bit shaky beneath you.
With a lack of memory from what happened before you woke up, you looked out the window. The moon was beginning to rise, leaving the kitchen in a dark glow caused by the oven.
If the oven was on then that must mean that Hansel and Gretel would be in it then, right? So, why wasn't your mother around to monitor the cooking process to make sure the children don't get overcooked?
You shakily left the kitchen, leaning onto the wall for support so you wouldn't fall over as you went. You moved into the room the cage was kept in, and as you expected, the cage door was wide open. But the small glint of something shiny on the ground caught your attention.
Slowly moving over to the cage, you crouched down and picked up the small iolite that lay in front of the cage. Examining it between your fingers, you noticed a knocked-over vase from the side of your eye.
You slipped the iolite into your pocket and dashed over to the vase, stumbling on your feet a few times while doing so. As soon as you got to the vase, you bent down and put it back up the way it was supposed to be. But checking inside it, it was mostly empty, just a few pretty gemstones left inside.
"...Gumdrops!" You mumbled under your breath, getting a sudden surge of adrenaline as you turned away from the vase and dashed for the front door. Seeing it wide open, your breath caught in your throat, and you turned away dashing back to the kitchen.
The moment you saw the broom wedged in the door latch on the oven, everything that went down before you woke up came flooding back to you. Your chest felt tight as you quickly grabbed onto the broom, trying to tug it out from where it was jammed to keep the door shut.
Eventually succeeding, you could feel the tears pricking your eyes evaporate as you tugged open the oven door. The heatwave that hit you from inside the oven didn't stop you as you leaned inside it, grabbing onto the crumpled pile that lay on the ground. Hurriedly you began tugging it out, holding back the choked sobs that built in your throat.
When you had successfully pulled out what was in the oven, you slammed the door shut, turning it off a second later. You laid down what you'd pulled out of the oven, dusting off soot from the clothes.
You could feel the tears evaporate the moment they spilled out as you saw the burned face of your mother. Her skin was wrinkled and thin, but bright red and peeling. There were holes burned through her clothes and her hair was singed down to the roots. You couldn't look at her, hands covering your mouth as you fled out of the house.
––––––––––––––––––––––––
You ran for as long as you could, the moon high in the sky by the time you stopped running. Your cheeks were numb, and your throat hurt, the tears finally able to spill with the lack of heat in the cold forest. Each tear that ran down your cheeks left a tingly trail before they fell to the ground.
You bent over, your hands on your knees as you panted between choked sobs. The image of your mother's corpse was burned into your brain. You couldn't stop yourself as you began to retch, practically nothing coming up but stomach bile. It stung your throat, but you couldn't stop it, even though nothing was leaving your body.
You felt sick, the coughing from the retching causing you to do it more. By the time you finally managed to pull yourself together, your throat was dry and scratchy. You couldn't even figure out the way back to your home, you had run that far.
Wiping your cheeks with your wrist, you began to walk off in a random direction. Eventually, you began to hear hooves hitting the ground from further ahead, so you made your way closer to the noise. Peeking out of the foliage, you saw a large line of horse-drawn carriages moving along a dirt path that wound through the trees and undergrowth. You couldn't make them out very well with most of the moonlight being blocked out by the canopy.
Staying in the foliage, you just watched them all pass by, unsure of what you were supposed to do. You'd never left the candy house before, your mother had been the one to do that, going out to get items to repair and add on to the house, as well as some metal appliances on occasion.
Thinking about your mother brought tears to your eyes again, but you quickly wiped them away, not wanting to cry anymore. The carriages had gone past you now, the trotting of hooves slowly fading away into the distance.
You move out of the foliage, standing on the edge of the dirt path as you dust down your clothing, removing brambles, leaves, twigs, and a few seeds. While tidying yourself up, you felt a small lump in your clothing. Slipping your hand into the layers you used as a pocket, your fingers wrapped around a small round item that was rather cold.
Pulling it out of the makeshift pocket, you hold it up to the sky, trying to get a better look at it. It was the iolite from earlier. It was the perfect shape for a pendant or an accessory on a belt, but it was the one thing you still had with you from the candy house.
Lowering the iolite back down, a single beam of moonlight hit the gemstone, setting off a small glimmer of light from the precious rock. You dropped the gem in surprise, but it landed directly next to a little white pebble just in front of you. Bending down, you pick up the iolite, which had luckily not broken, but as your fingers brush against the smooth pebble, it lights up with a small glow.
You jump back from it in surprise as one by one more little white pebbles light up along the edge of the dirt path. You clutch the iolite tightly in your hand, as you straighten up, glancing around at the dark forest and dirt path once more. The little trail of light led in the opposite direction the horse-drawn carriages had gone, so you weren't too sure if going in that direction was a good idea.
Suddenly, a stick cracked from somewhere behind you in the undergrowth, followed by the hoot of an owl. Snapped out of your hesitation and straight back into reality, you hurriedly start to follow the trail of small shiny lights, not wanting to find out what was back there.
However, as you hurried along the edge of the dirt path, you were unaware of the two faces that peeked out at you from within a bush. Each belonging to a different creature, one a meerkat and the other, a warthog.
––––––––––––––––––––––––
You don't know how long you had followed that trail of pebbles, but your legs ached. Your throat was dry, and you wanted to lie down.
You made sure to watch the ground and your surroundings, but it looked like you kept walking in circles. Looking up from the ground to look for the next lightly illuminated pebble, you were met with no light apart from the moon and the last white pebble you stood next to.
Panicking a bit, you run to where the next pebble should've been, 10 steps ahead of the previous one. Looking at the ground and spinning around on the spot, you couldn't see any little white pebbles.
You could feel your pulse speed up as you panicked more, you didn't know what the pebbles were supposed to lead you to, but it seemed that they'd just made you more lost than you already were. You look down at the iolite in your hand, tucking it back into the pocket with a small sigh as you began to look around at the forest in the area you were in.
You were on your own, nothing to guide you and nobody around to help you. The forest was dark, you wouldn't want to stray off the dirt path at night if you wanted even a glimpse of guaranteed safety.
Looking back at the dirt path leading ahead, you noticed a very faint orange glow coming from further down the direction you'd been heading. Feeling a small spark of hope ignite in your chest, along with a trickle of fear, you set out towards the glow, not sure what you'd find but hoping it was something helpful.
It was a campfire.
A little campfire kept within a small circle with smooth white stones. You blinked at it a few times in disbelief, not really believing what you'd stumbled upon. The moon was high in the sky, and you were in the middle of a forest right on the edge of a dirt path, and someone had set up camp here. Do they not have a single notion of sensibility?
You whirled around at the sound of a door closing, your heart leaping into your throat. Yet, you calm down a little at the kind voice that follows suit.
"Oh? Why are you out so late?" The voice questions, followed by soft footsteps on wooden steps as a figure moved towards the circle of light the campfire casts. The figure had come from a little wooden cabin on wheels with a strange looking door on the back of it, a white horse sleeping at the front of it. You'd failed to notice both the horse and the little residence on wheels when you came across the campfire, due to how dark it was outside the little ring of light.
As the stranger entered the ring of low light the fire cast, it was quite easy to see it was a man. He had dark coloured hair, navy blue or something similar, as the campfire made it look black. His eyes were unique though, much different from all the children's you'd seen. His were a bright yellow that seemed to kind of glow, but his pupils were small, almost slitted.
The man looked you over for a second before bringing the curl of his pointer finger to his lips. "You know, it's not very safe for a young lady like yourself to be out so late at night by yourself." The stranger reflects, taking a few more steps into the light.
A small sheepish smile tugs at your lips as you look off to the side, absentmindedly fiddling with your fingers due to nervousness. "I don't really know how to get back home..." You mumble, your voice only just louder than the crackling of the fire.
"Oh...Ohhhhh...." The man began, letting his hand drop from his face as he gave you a pitying smile as he came close to you. The stranger brought his hand up again and began to rub the top of your head, seemingly in an attempt to comfort you.
Not really used to that kind of touch, you just kind of stood there, letting it happen as you looked up at him, albeit more over his shoulder than at his face. Once he removed his hand from upon your head, it tilted a bit to the side, mimicking an owl up in the tree canopy behind him.
You returned your attention to the man before you, confused as to why he did that. "What was that for?" The man chuckled lightly at your confusion before patting your shoulder a little.
"It's all right child, you can spend the night with me." He states, turning away from you with a small flourish of the cloak that lay around his shoulder, lifting his hand from your shoulder to gesture you to follow him.
"Aren't I so generous?" He rhetorically questioned, beginning to walk back towards the small moving house on wheels. With basically nowhere to go, you quickly ran a few paces to walk beside him, albeit a step behind.
Once at the back of his residence, he grabbed onto the little handles of the door, and pulled them open. A dark curtain separated the inside of the caravan from the doors, obscuring any view of the inside of his home. There were shelves lining the inside of one of the doors, while the others had items hanging over it all.
The man walked inside his travelling home, brushing past the curtain. Yet, you didn't follow him inside, mesmerized by the items on display here. You could only guess he was a merchant; from the stories your mother had told you of those wandering tradespeople she'd sometimes come across when out of the house.
You ran your fingers over the fur of a black and white cloak with red on the inside, it was beautiful and soft to the touch. A large fancy mirror hung on the door beside the cloak, it's golden frame extremely detailed for such a simple plane of glass, but a smaller hand-held version of it was right beside it. At the edge of the door, there was a quiver of arrows and a bow hung on a small hook, you'd seen a grown man with them once, the only time your mother had ever taken you out of the candy. You quickly wipe your eyes, forcing away forming tears from the memory.
You turn your head away from the bow and arrow, looking towards the other door that had a ton of shelves on it. On the top shelf, there was a vase of red and white roses all mixed, it was beautiful. Beside it sat a pair of black rimmed glasses and a hat. On the opposite side of the vase was a deck of playing cards, you knew what they were from a child having some on them when they stumbled upon where you lived.
You shake your head, forcing away the memories again. You didn't want to cry anymore, you needed to find your way back home before you could continue grieving.
You turn your attention to the shelf below that one, where in a small case, sat a pair of small heels, seemingly made of glass. Beside it was a carton of eggs on one side, and a sheathed sword on the other. It was a strange sight, so you moved your attention down to the shelf below that one, but not before doing something.
You reached out and put your hands on the sword handle, gently pulling it off the shelf. Once the handle had slipped off the shelf, the sheathed blade of it followed straight after, causing you to nearly fall over from how heavy the item was. With a quiet groan, you strained your arms to lift the sword back up and get it back on the shelf, which took a bit of time and effort, but you eventually succeeded.
With a sigh of relief, you wiped some sweat off your brow before actually moving your gaze to another shelf this time.
There was a basket of bright red apples that seemed to shine in the moonlight, along with a similar looking item that looked like an apple, but its shape was different. There was a small tower beside it, that seemed to be a toy, right at the very top of it though, was a bell. Between the tower and basket sat a golden shell on a thin gold thread. You reached your hand out and brushed your fingers over the small swirl the shell had as it's pattern.
A rustle of noise behind you caught you off guard, making you pull your hand back from the shell and whip around to see if the man had come to see why you hadn't followed him inside. But there was nothing there, the curtain was still, apart from a faint breeze causing the fabric to shift slightly. However, your attention caught onto something from the other door you'd missed earlier. A large red and gold carpet was rolled up and propped against the wall just in front of the curtain, but right where it leaned against the hinges for the door. There were small gold tassels that peeked out of the rolled-up fabric, where the corners of the carpet would be.
Suddenly, the sound of flames erupted from beside you, causing you to whirl around to face the source of the sound, panicked. But what you saw made you jump away, causing you to fall into the curtains slightly.
The large fancy mirror that had been hanging on the door, was in front of you now, floating in the air. Where your reflection should have been, was instead a large wall of green flames. You could feel yourself beginning to panic, you had grown up around magic and witchcraft but had never once seen this happen.
"Ahh..." A deep voice began, coming straight from the mirror. You couldn't help the spike in your heart rate as you clutched tightly onto the curtains, silently hoping that the man from before would burst through at any moment.
"My cherished benefactor." The mirror continued, the green flames still flickering along the whole of its glass pane. "A lovely, wicked bloom that doth nobly enthral."
The mirror moved closer to you, causing you to scramble back, entangling yourself in the dark curtains and knocking over the carpet. "Truly, thou art the fairest one of all." It continued, slowly floating closer still.
You didn't even pay any attention to the compliment, panicking further instead as warnings from your mother flashed through your head. How everybody would be out to get you, how it wasn't safe to leave, how she'd be the only one you'd be able to trust. Regret was washing over you in a wave now, you shouldn't have trusted that man, you never should've fled the house, but you were scared then, and your scared now.
The mirror kept coming closer until it stopped a few inches away from your face, where it proceeded to hover. "Mirror, mirror on the wall." You were frozen as it spoke more before pausing in its speech, almost as if it were aware that it wasn't on a wall. "Who is the..."
You didn't hear the rest of what it said, as a sharp pang of pain shot through your head, causing you to wince and close your eyes. You could feel the moving house tremble slightly as the heavy fall of hooves rang in your ears, getting louder as the trembling grew stronger.
But, the moment you opened your eyes, it was all gone, as if it never happened. But you were met with the sound of the mirror speaking again. "Those who art guided by the Dark Mirror."
The green flames licking at the glass from the other side slowly began to fade out as it continued. "Follow the wish of thine heart, and take the hand thou seest reflected in the looking glass." At that, the flames fully out and your breath caught in your throat as a hand came into view. It looked as if it was reaching out towards you, but it was waiting for you. There was something all too familiar about the hand as it waited, something that you just couldn't place.
The glint of a small ring on its finger caught your attention and it clicked, your mother. Feeling the tears welling up in your eyes again, your pulse calmed down, panic dissipating as you carefully untangled yourself from the curtains.
You began to reach out for your mother's hand, the one shown in the glass mere centimetres away from you. The words the mirror uttered next feel deaf upon your ears as your fingertips brushed against the glass. The hand, quick to reach out and grab onto yours, pulling you through the glass. The mirror broke with a large shatter and fell to the ground, glass shards scattered all over the ground and curtain as the man from before whipped the fabric to the side.
If only you'd heard the warning the mirror had uttered. You would've known what was to come, but sadly, you didn't. The warning echoed quietly around in the broken glass, never to be heard.
"For I.....And for them.....And for thee.....Little time doth remain. No matter what, take care to never let go of that hand..."