Hansel and Gretel

We drove up the snowy, winding road towards the cozy A-frame cabin. Father had the horse's reins in his course hands, leading them through the dark forest at night.

The roadway was bumpy. I dropped small white pebbles as father drove. He didn't notice because tears were streaming down his cheeks. He told us this was just a quick ride and that we'd be home soon.

I know this isn't true.

Gretel rested in my arms, sleeping peacefully. She trusted our father. She also trusted Matilda, our stepmom. But I knew who she really was. I heard her speaking with our father at night through the drafty walls of our home.

"Take them to my sister on the edge of the forest," she ordered my father just last night. "We will soon have our own children to care for. We don't need any more burdens!"

"They're my children, Matilda," I heard father weakly protest. I knew he loved us, but he didn't love us enough. He loved Matilda's body more.

He was getting rid of us so that they could forget we existed and have a new life. I knew father wasn't an evil man, but he was a weak-willed man. To me, this was worse.

Gretel always protested when I tried to tell her how our parents really were. She'd stomp her little feet and start to cry, proclaiming that they love us. Accepting that we aren't loved is hard for her to comprehend.

I'm nine now, though. I'm almost a man. She's only four. She ignores our bony bodies, our rotting teeth, and our bloody noses because she can't bare the idea that those closest to us don't love us.

We starve so Matilda and our father may eat. We go cold at night because Matilda must stay warm. We endure her slapping us in the face because our father is so whipped he won't protest her beating us.

And Gretel refuses to see this.

That's okay, though. I will take my revenge on them and protect Gretel. As the woods grew darker and thicker, I could just make out the shimmering white pebbles leading back to our house. I didn't leave them so that we could go back home. I left them so I could find father and Matilda again when I am older and stronger.

"Okay, kids," father said in a falsely cheerful voice. "This is where you're staying for the night. This is aunt Margaret's cabin. She'll be taking care of you both for a little while."

I jumped down from the wagon, and Gretel, who'd just woken up, followed my lead. She looked at the strange cabin happily.

"Oh, it looks so lovely, father," she exclaimed. I glanced at the cabin, wondering what she saw that I didn't. Sure, from a distance, it looked cozy and pleasant. But if you looked closely, you'd see the fence was made from bones, human skulls hung as lanterns over the doorway, and a skeletal dog peered ou from the bushes.

"I'm glad you like it, children," father nearly sobbed. I rolled my eyes and started to march toward the house. He was acting as if he was being forced to do this. Like he can't stand up to a woman who's a whole foot shorter than him and say, "NO!"

I took no pity on the pathetic man.

"Hansel, won't you say goodbye to papa?" Gretel asked me as she ran to catch up to me.

"No, they have their new life now," I told her firmly. "I won't look back to them anymore."

"Oh, Hansel, the house is made of delicious candies!" Gretel suddenly exclaimed. To my absolute horror, she grabbed one of the skinny bones making up the fence and took a massive bite out of it.

I felt bewildered by her. Couldn't she see it was human bones? Before I could say anything, a lady came to the door and gestured for us to enter.

She was grotesque beyond belief. In her hand, she held a human foot, dangling from her neck was a necklace of shrunken skulls, and she had only one eye and tooth.

"Come in, children," she crooned. "I see you're hungry, dear. Come, I've made some delicious stew."

Gretel gleefully ran through the doorway and made herself at home at the table. She smiled at me, clearly still blissfully unaware that the table was made of human torsos, the chair was human legs and feet, and the bowl was a human skull.

I wondered why I did not vomit, though. Instead, I felt intrigued.

"You wonder, boy," the witch crooned in my ear. "You do not flee in terror. You don't feel repulsed. You're intrigued."

I turned to her in astonishment. "I don't like your furniture or choice of cuisine," I asserted defensively.

"Really?"

I gulped and gazed into her singular eye. There was no light in there. There was nothing but lost darkness.

I sat at the table but ate nothing. I watched in wonder as Gretel gulped down the bowl of human remains without hesitation. After she finished, the witch led her to a bed made from human remains. Gretel fell right to sleep.

"I am known as the Alukah," she hissed at me. "I'm one of the daughters of the Lilith. The mother of Demons. I felt your hatred. I felt your wicked desires. I brought you here."

"Why?" I asked her, once again feeling inexplicably drawn to her.

"Because I know you can do it," she hissed. "Your mother had one wish when she lay dying. She knew Matilda had poisoned her. She knew your father was in on it. She knew it all and wished for one thing! REVENGE!"

"I wish to avenge my mother and my sister," I declared, standing up quickly. "Tell me, what must I do?"

"It's simple," she cackled. "Stretch out your hand, palm upright."

I hesitated for a moment but slowly stretched out my palm. She snatched it into her own in one swift movement.

"Mingle our blood," she barely whispered. "We will be one. But, young boy, it is my duty to inform you that you will forever be exiled by humanity. Even your own sister will shake in horror at your deeds."

"But she's the one that ate a human head and is now sleeping under a blanket made from their skins!" I protested.

"Her innocence blinds her, boy," laughed the witch, still holding my hand firmly. "She sees nothing but candy, but you! You are just wicked enough to complete the revenge your mother requested!"

"I'm not wicked! Matilda and father are wicked!" I spat out. "Cut my palm. I wish to destroy them forever! They must die tonight!"

I felt my ears growing hot and my eyes dry out. I looked down and saw a large pool of blood forming on the floor. Dizzy and unstable, I fell inside the hag.

I felt my head tear through her flesh. I felt myself become trapped inside the flesh of the hag. I saw through her eyes. I felt invincible. I felt courageous. I was the Akulah and I was going to avenge my mother.

I ran out the front door and into the forest. Following the trail of white pebbles, I arrived once more at my father's little cabin. Father and mother were seated at the breakfast table as if nothing had happened.

I gazed through the windows and saw not only Matilda and our father but several children. They were all under ten and played blissfully by the fireplace.

"Dada!" a young girl called out to our father. She resembled Gretel, except she had Matilda's brown hair rather than our mother's red hair. I felt my face grow hot with rage!

Father abandoned us and had a new family with Matilda! We had been in that cabin for years and hadn't even noticed. Meanwhile, father and Matilda got along like me, and Gretel never existed.

My hatred became so hot, so all-consuming, that soon the whole house was ablaze. The children ran from the house but soon succumbed to my stare. With a singular glance, I tore out all of their hearts. I reveled in their suffering.

I especially enjoyed tormenting Matilda and our father. They begged for mercy, but I gave them none of it!

After a few hours, with everyone now dead, all was silent. The home was a smoldering pile of wood. I happily looked around at the suffering I caused those who made me suffer.

"Hansel?" came a small voice from behind me. I turned around to see Gretel. She was older now but just as innocent as ever. Except that there was a look of horror on her face.

"What happened, Hansel?" she cried. "Father and Matilda are dead."

"Yes, finally," I smirked. "They won't torment us ever again."

"No, Hansel, how could you?" she sobbed.

"I had to, Gretel!" I growled like a beast. "They tortured us. They destroyed our lives. I killed them to save us!"

"No!" she screamed angrily. "You're a monster!"

In rage, I lifted my arm high above my head and brought it down heavy on her head. She let out one last little scream before crumpling to the ground.

Dead.

Gretel was dead.

I killed her.

In horror, I looked at her crumpled body. A small pool of blood formed under her head. She almost looked like she was sleeping. I tried to wake her, but she was gone.

"No!" I wept. But nothing could bring her back. My rage had killed her. I fled into the forest. I still haunt these forests. One day someone will take my skins and become the next Alukah.

We feed on rage and lust. We give people what they desire, but in exchange, we get their souls.

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"The Alukah hath two daughters, crying, GIVE! GIVE! There are three things that are never satisfied, yea, four things say not, it is enough.

The grave, the barren womb, the Earth that is not filled with water, and the fire that saith not, it is enough!"

Wisdom

Thank you so much for reading my entry to the cabin challenge. I wanted to make a small story retelling the legend of Hansel and Gretel.

My goal was to express how rage and anguish can consume people. To the ancient people of Cannan and Judea, this rage took the form of the Akulah. A legendary figure supposed to be the offspring of Lilith.

You can read about the Alukah here: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Alukah

Thank you again for reading. I know this one is probably hard to enjoy, but I hope you feel you learned and connected with the imagery.