A Life for a Life...

The cabin in the woods had been abandoned for years, but one night, a candle burned in the window. The flicker of the newly lit flame seemed to dance to an unknown beat that resonated through barren trees and damp grass. This unseen pulse stretched itself across lakes and around untouched mountaintops that looked down onto the neighboring villages. The sound would fall onto sleeping ears as many in town lay in their beds, unsuspecting and completely vulnerable. It sounded like a heartbeat attached with an ominous whisper.

“A life…for a life…”

Hans opened his eyes. It felt as if the words had crept into the window of soul his and taken residence in his bones. Slowly sitting up he looked around the room. He knew that voice and the consequences of the invitation attached to it. Grabbing the glass of water he left hours ago on his nightstand next to various bottles of mood stabilizers and sleep aides, Hans tried to get his thoughts together. After all this time? All these years running from you and praying to finally run to you again to finish... So now what? What happened to the rest of my water? Hans realized that his hand was shaking so badly that whatever little water he had left in that glass had spilled over his hand and onto the sheets. Placing the now empty glass back onto the nightstand, Hans took in several breaths and placed his feet onto the hardwood floor.

He did not know what to do but he anticipated what followed next; a slight knock on his door. Hans did not say a word. As his door opened, he already heard the soft whimper behind it. His sister, Wilhelmina, stood in the doorway, her face drained of presence and full of fear. Before she could form words beyond her tears Hans took it upon himself to answer the question she did not need to ask,

“Yes, Mina...I heard it.”

Hans closed his eyes and leaned back onto the bed as Mina started to cry more uncontrollably at his bedroom door. They both knew that the daily nightmares that greeted them in their dreams would be waiting were now waiting for them...

PART ONE: UNDER THE TREES AND THROUGH THE WOODS…

Hans and Wilhemina walked quietly through the woods, stepping on branches and dry grass. As they stared up at the trees, Mina realized something that she never realized before as a child that frequented these woods on various occasions. She stopped and voiced her observation,

"Hans...look up..."

Hans looked up beyond the broken branches. At first, he was not aware of what he was supposed to see then it became clear as he looked past the patches of mist. Without breaking his gaze Hans handed Mina the backpack,

"Wow...she always knew when we were close."

Beyond the trees and that mist were vultures. They were perfectly still and were perched mid-air without branches to support them. Mina got a chill up her spine when she noticed that behind them the forest was plush and full of life but before them, the forest was desolate. Hans broke his gaze with the vultures and immediately took off his backpack and handed it to Mina. Looking around, Hans made sure to note exactly where they were standing just in case things fells through,

“Three birch trees and that looks like poison ivy by that third bush…poison ivy…. three birch trees…poison ivy.”

Hans repeated himself and closed his eyes several times as if he were mentally taking a picture. Mina opened the backpack, took out a pair of yellow rubber gloves, and put them on. She then took out a bag of crumbled food laced with poison and bundles of red and yellow ribbons. She threw some of the crumbs onto the ground where they were standing and motioned Hans to start walking. Hans took a couple of steps forward but turned around to watch Mina tie a red ribbon to one of the trees. Mina looked at Hans again and motioned him to keep walking as she threw down more crumbs and tied ribbons. They continued to do this throughout the length of the woods until they came to a winding pathway that stood out from the rest of the dry and deathly scenery. Mina stopped and took her gloves off and stuttered through her fear,

“Hans…I can’t go any further…I can't...I can't go…”

Hans turned to Mina, careful not to touch her gloves. He firmly gripped her shoulders and pleaded into her eyes,

“Mina, please don’t bail out on me here...Please...you are the only one that can help me end this."

Mina turned from her brother and looked down the winding road that had splashes of pink and gold and blue tiles. Plush green ferns lined each side. Mina saw herself as a child again running down that winding road, laughing until she felt the pain in her stomach. A pain so unbearable that it caused her to be sick for years. She carefully took off the yellow gloves and threw them onto the ground. Staring back up at her brother, she saw the fear in his eyes. She knew that she had to push past that very present pain,

“Hans, I’ll stop when we get to the fence…I promise."

Hans felt a little better. Mina then reached inside the bookbag and handed Hans the small leather journal that once sat by his bedside and a trinket with instructions,

“Remember…you gotta get inside first. That’s the only way it will work.”

Hans nodded in agreement and took the journal and trinket, placing it in his back pocket. He and Mina both stared for several seconds at the winding path before walking again. As they walked, they noticed hundreds of white doves sitting in the trees above them. That was new, and for a moment it felt welcoming. Mina stopped and smiled, but Hans then remembered whom they were dealing with,

"We can't be fooled by those glimpses of hope Mina…she is toying with us."

Mina frowned and put her head down as they continued to walk down the winding path. Finally, they stopped. Several feet away stood the beautiful cabin. The candle flickered in the window. Completely adorned in glass, each window was frosted and outlined with silver and blue trimmings. The grass surrounding the cottage was adorned with beautiful fruits. Large mushrooms red as blood but soft as cotton candy hung over the doorway’s entrance. The white fence that surrounded the cabin smelled of honeysuckle and crisp apples. Mina took a step back and bumped into a bush that left a golden hue on her pants. She could smell the chocolate residue on her clothes. That very bush was responsible for Mina's stay in various hospitals over several years in her childhood. Hans, as if he knew what she was thinking, touched his sister's hand with comfort. Mina smiled at him,

“I am here Hans.”

Hans nervously smiled back,

“I believe you Mina…but if I am not back out before sunset, and that candle goes out…you run…if this does not work, remember she wants a life for a life…don’t let her get you too. You run? You hear me…run…”

Tearing up, Mina tightly hugged Hans. He looked at her again, this time his eyes stern,

“If I call out to you Mina…if I ever call out to you-“

Mina buried her head into his chest and started to cry,

“You won’t call out…you won’t…this is it-”

Hans had to finish what he was saying whether Mina wanted to hear it or not,

“If I call out to you…you must finish it.”

Mina looked up at him. She saw his resolve. There was no turning back. She nodded her head yes. As children, when they made it out alive, she held onto him in pain while he screamed for help. Now, she was here helping him save the world. Hans took one more look at his sister and then bravely walked towards the threshold of the white fence. He closed his eyes. The blood-red mushrooms seemed to lean down, motioning him towards the cabin door. Hans did not turn around to see tears stream down Mina’s face. Hans walked up to the door and knocked three times. Silence. Mina held her breath, knowing what would happen next. And in an instant, her dear brother Hans was snatched inside the beautiful cabin, the door slamming behind him-the blood-red mushrooms crossing in front of one another, locking him inside.

PART TWO: INTO THE THICK OF IT...

Hans stood in the middle of a warm and cozy living room. The candle in the window burned in unison with the fire churning in the stone fireplace. Everything still looked the same. Freshly baked loaves of bread lined the tables to the left. Herbs and spices were sprawled across the mantelpiece over the fireplace. He could smell chocolates and lemons from the other tables to the right. If his memory served him correctly, the lamb and potatoes were roasting in the kitchen. A chill went down his spine as he heard the familiar sound of a long fingernail scratching against the banister upstairs. Now that she knew he was there, he had to stand his ground. The fingernail scratching became louder as a sinister laugh echoed down the steps. The flames in the fireplace jumped as if to mimic that laugh and Hans silently prayed to himself. Finally, he heard the voice that haunted his dreams for twenty years,

“I knew your soul would come if I called out to it…it smells so very sweet…”

Laughter etched with curling shrills echoed from all corners of the cabin. Even though he heard her voice, he could not hear her walking. He addressed her firmly,

“The tricks of your trade are worthless. You know why I am here Witch!”

Silence. All Hans could hear was the flickering candle and the flames from the fireplace. For a moment, he thought he heard a whimpered cry. Where is she? I will not be moved. I will not be moved. Suddenly, cold hands quickly slithered up Han’s arms, and before he could remove himself from their grasp, those cold and coarse hands adorned with black claws, and grey and red veins, wrapped around his mouth. He could smell the death from her flesh. She whispered in his ear,

“Are you not hungry?”

She laughed and pushed Hans away. Hans flew across the living room. She seemed stronger than he remembered. Her laughter filled the room as he stumbled and fell in front of the fireplace. A quick memory and Hans saw himself as a child eating ravenously at the table full of chocolates and lemon curd delights. His favorite treats. Even now, he could taste it. He was suddenly hungry. As a child that would have worked, but now he knew better. He jumped up and began to run. He could feel her breath on his neck, even though she stood in the same place. She yelled out after him,

“I love a good game mouse...”

Hans ran for his life but something in his heart ached just a little. I have not heard that in so long. Hans and his sister used to play cat and mouse as children. He was always the mouse as his sister was much more clever and knew exactly how and where to find him. As Hans ran through the house, he pushed away the sentiments that could potentially take him off task. The Witch had no idea which way he was going, but she had a clue as she saw him peel off in the darkness towards the back of the very large cabin.

Trying to keep his composure he found himself in the kitchen and remembered the secret way that led to the dungeon. This is it. The Witch had no clue Hans knew about this way. There were several doors to the dungeon but this one was the most dangerous but the fastest. Hans knew if he went this way by the time the old witch made her way to the other side looking for him, he would already be in the torture room. Hans ran over to the oven and quietly knocked three times. The oven door swung open. He knew she was right behind him and therefore he had to act quickly before she saw him climb in.

Hans slid his way inside the oven and began to crawl.

PART THREE: AND HERE LIES…

The oven door closed behind him as Hans crawled across metal sheets; Just ahead he saw the flicker of a torch. It dawned on him that as he crawled there was dry blood etched across the metal plates. How many did you kill before you summoned me? He pushed himself to crawl faster. Doing this as a child was much easier but now Hans realized that his body was struggling to make it out as quick as he thought he could. However, he was very close to climbing out the long metal oven corridor that seemed to stretch for several yards.

Heat…he felt the plates underneath start to get hot.

Of course, she turned the oven on. Why though? She knows it's pointless I'm also there. He crawled faster, the torch in front of him visible and almost reachable.

Screeching.

He did not stop but he felt like something was terribly wrong. What was that noise? The metal plates were starting to become unbearably hot. Sweat beads started to pour down his brow and for just a second Hans told himself to turn around to see what was going on. His eyes widened. The witch had not turned on the oven. Instead, she had climbed in behind him, eyes ablaze full of rage. Her claws were red and glowing. The heat that came from her claws was making the metal plates hot. Hans was terrified. Arms flailing, he tried to push himself forward with all his might. He knew that if he stayed in panic, it would only slow him down. The Witch called out to him,

“Mousy…mousy…sweet little boy…this is a game I quite enjoy…”

Hans was one foot away from the oven exit when he felt her claws dig into the bottom of his boots. He screamed out and pulled himself forward. He then grabbed the exit sides and pulled his body again, falling out onto the clay grounds. The torch burned above him as he looked at some of the blood coming out of his boot. The Witch, her eyes still glowing from inside the oven stopped and stared at him from the darkness. Hans wasted no time, and through the pain limped and ran towards the room he had been held hostage in as a child. He used the walls of the dungeon to keep himself steady as he ran. He noticed that as he ran his fingers traced along scratches dug into the walls. My goodness…what has she been up to. He could hear faint screams calling out from the scratches and bite marks on the walls. Hans took a deep breath. The wound under his foot was not bleeding as much as it was now burning. It felt like coals were inside his skin. He had to keep going.

As he tried to run, his mind traveled to a quick flash of a little girl with a long braid smiling before him. Most importantly he rememberd the baby dove necklace around the little girl's neck. The little girl haunted him for years and here in the dungeon, her image in his mind was now sharper than ever. It was as if she was standing right before him. Guilt tried to consume him, but he pushed through it as he came to a sharp left and saw the large metal door he had been looking for. I knew it was here! Hans ran to the door and threw his weight into it. When it opened, Hans face dropped. He could not believe his eyes. Where was the cage? WHERE WAS THE CAGE!? Hans started to tear up. Yelling out loud he limped inside the now pristine white room,

“WHERE IS IT! WHAT IS THIS?!”

This room was once a torture dungeon with dirt floors and a large cage. There was even a sepulcher in the back of the room where The old Witch said she slept to keep watch of the souls she caged at night. Now, the room looked like something out of a hospital. A snicker echoed from the long dark corridor. Hans looked around and his mind had another flash: he was a child again kicking the cage lock as he hurriedly tried to get to the girl with the braid and dove necklace. She lay motionless on the floor in front of him. At ten years old, the heartache he felt was unmatched by anything he would ever experience seeing her laying there. Hans remembered he used all his strength to break out of that cage and somehow that lock broke. Looking back, he was not sure how he did it. Little Hans got out of that cage and tried to wake the little girl up before the Witch came back to eat them both. He tried everything, called her name, hoping his tears would wake her up. And now, as a grown man, through tears, frustration, and fear he found himself once again on the cold floor trying to devise a plan to take The old Witch out once and for all.

Hans began to hear singing from the corridor. It was sweetly hypnotic and terrifying. He knew the tune from childhood but zoned it out. He would not get caught in any deception. The singing got louder. He could hear the Witch’s footsteps get closer as he tried to devise a plan. He could smell the death coming towards him. Her claws were scraping against the damp walls-screams cried out in agony from the embedded bite marks and scratches as blood seeped from them. She took pleasure in constantly torturing the souls she captured. Hans took out the tattered journal. Years of research. He had spent his whole life looking for the answer to kill this thing that destroyed him and Mina.

The walking stopped. Taking out the trinket he closed his eyes and thought of one moment that gave him peace: Him, Wilhelmina, and the little girl with the braid laughing in the grass, all three of them playing with marbles as children. He opened his eyes, cherishing the memory, ready to do what needed to be done. The Witch turned the corner into the dungeon. Hans swallowed. In the bright lights, she looked more horrible than he remembered. The blue and grey veins in her hands and arms pushed through almost translucent flesh. Every couple of seconds visible blood pulsed through those veins in unison with the screams echoing from the walls. A snake was wrapped around each leg and slithered towards her feet, stopping right above the toes. She wore all white. This time, he would not run,

“You’ve been busy Witch…your ankle must be much better.”

Hans snickered. One of the ways he escaped as a child was by taking a huge bite out of her ankle. The Witch did not look up. Instead, she laughed, the blood in her veins pulsating,

“Oh, I wouldn't know...but I have never felt better...:

Hans was confused but he knew he had to stay focused,

“You summoned me for a reason. You’re dying. You need me. I was the last one and the only one to get out alive…meaning you have been stuck in that flesh ever since. You need me… So, let’s make a deal...”

The Witch took one step closer. Hans did not move. She was still a good distance away. Taking her claws she traced the palms of her hands, and then wiped and rubbed them together as if she had something on them,

“Hans, my sweet savory delicious Hans. How I have waited for you. I know you wait for death every night because the thought of me drinks your happiness every dawn. I know you still sleep with the light on and bottles lined up every so neatly on that table. I also know…(laughs)…Tell me, does Mina still throw up at night?”

A feeling of dread washed over him. Something was not right. That day when he was a boy when the witch walked into the room, Hans remembered throwing dirt into her eyes and then biting her ankle. Enough to make the witch wince out in pain and lose her balance. Hans knew back then she was weak. After biting her, Hans got up and knocked her into the cage. His doing so caused the oils from the lamps and the flames in the room to spread around the cage and he jumped back. The Witch was deathly afraid of fire and the flames started to consume the room. She clawed at him in pain. But the girl with the braid. Hans tried to drag her through the door that day, but the heat from the fire caused them both to fall. She would not wake up. He remembered screaming and begging the Witch through the vehement flames to wake up the little girl. But instead, the Witch laughed and put her arms in the air. It was at that moment that Hans was flung out of the dungeon room against the damp wall. He watched in terror as the room went up in complete flames. He knew the little girl was gone-his heart completely shattered. But he ran. He kept hearing his name, but he did not turn around. He ran as fast as he could through tears, finding a way out through the catacombs for he dared not go back through the oven.

Now, looking at The Witch in this white pristine room he knew she had to die. It’s over…this is for her…But something was still bothering Hans. Nonetheless, he began to recite the words he memorized over time in the journal. These were the words he was taught in the mountains of old from great men of wisdom. He uttered words that were buried since the dawn of time.

He did not need the cage to stop her…he knew what he had to do. He recited the words in anger and made up in his mind nothing would stop him.

The Witch grimaced in pain and spoke, her voice very different,

“You would kill me twice…”

Hans knew that voice. He stopped talking. Slightly pulling the white hood off her face, Han’s heart stopped beating for a second. He felt the room get dizzy. The Witch’s eyes were dark blue and sunken in. The grey and red veins in her arms were just as visible on her face-the blood pulsating through her cheeks. A set of chains were wrapped around her neck and her skin was green and covered with old blood. She smiled, her teeth sharp and black. But there was one thing Hans noticed…He saw a very long black braid and a necklace with a baby dove.

Hans, voice shaking, teared up,

“No…it can’t be…I saw her burn! What trickery is this?!”

As the Witch walked towards him, he could hear the chains jingle around her throat,

“No, you thought you saw me burn. A life for a life…my life…”

The Witch stopped talking. The evil that came from here was more anger than anything. Hans knew at that moment what happened. The Witch from the past did not want to just kill him. No, she wanted to be free. Someone needed to trade places for her to be free...

A life for a life.

Sick to his stomach, Hans stumbled backward. The Witch, visibly weeping, in anger, recalled that day, her voice stuck between a woman and the slither of a tongue,

“I reached out to you through the flames, but you had already turned around. I called out to you…and you did not turn around-“

Hans remembered the screams he heard as he ran that day. Through tears, Hans yelled,

“I thought it was her!”

The witch threw her claws in the air,

“IT WAS ME! YOU LEFT ME!”

Her voice echoed through the dungeon. Pain. Revenge. Hurt. She laughed and looked down at Hans who fell down on his knees crying on the floor. She walked towards him, smiling,

“Do you know how many little boys I killed that looked like you just because…I wanted you to suffer just like me…I wanted my screams to haunt you whenever you closed your eyes…”

Hans knew one thing at this moment; that sweet little girl was now The Witch that caused terror for decades. Folklore could not capture the damage she had done to the souls she stole. I will set you free. Hans got back up and stopped crying. He did not have much time. The Witch’s eyes turned black, and her claws grew. Raising the razor-sharp talons into the air, Hans yelled out words in the unknown dialect. The claws came down across Han’s face. Falling back in pain, blood poured from the fresh wound. The ground shook. The cut across his face felt like acid, the pain almost unbearable. Trying to stand back up he yelled more words. This time The Witch’s back cracked, and she bent backward, letting out a shrill cry. The walls that led to the dungeon also screamed out. Her bones began to break in her back as she continued to yell towards the ceiling.

Yelling the ancient words, Hans tried to run for the door but found himself thrown against the back wall of the room, further away from the door. Sliding down, he knew soon it would all be over. He just needed to get to the door. Still bent backwards The Witch grimaced a painful laugh. As Hans stood up, he yelled out more and made it to the door. Stopping he turned around to face The Witch. The screams from the wall stopped. Silence. The Witch started to straighten up, her bones snapping back into place one by one. With each snap, The Witch let out a gurgled laugh,

“Clever…clever…Hans…you need a cage for that spell to completely work…”

Hans closed the door and shut himself inside with The Witch and smiled,

“No…this room is the cage.”

Letting out the final words, Hans locked eyes with The Witch. Instantly, her eyes turned back to a beautiful shade of blue. Hans, in tears, walked over to the Witch and placed his hand on her cheek. Trembling, The Witch touched his hand with her own. A tear streamed down her face. The chains around her neck fell to the ground. Though her eyes were back to normal, her body and face remained the same. The witch looked at her own hand and then realization fell over her countenance. Like a child and in full surrender, The Witch looked Hans in the eyes and smiled,

“Hansel...”

Smiling, Hans placed the trinket he held onto into her hands: a beautiful grown dove, wings in full span. Hans embraced The Witch, both weeping, as the room began to fall around them, flames everywhere.

“I’m sorry so Gretel…”

PART FOUR: THE THING THAT GOES THUMP…

Mina paced outside the Cabin. Looking up at the sky, it was getting dark. She wanted to devour that entire garden but knew if she did, she would die. She almost didn’t make it back alive the last time when they were little. Trying her best to resist, Mina took out a can of coffee, smelled it, and closed her eyes. As long as that witch is alive, I will never be free from this. The ground rumbled. The blood-red mushrooms that guarded the door started to wilt. The fruit in the garden began to rot. He did it! No wait…no wait! Where is he?! Mina looked up and realized the sun was setting. She did not want to leave her brother. Suddenly, the curtain in the window fell…and the candle in the window was blown out.

Run.

Tears streaming down her face, Mina knew her brother was gone. Running as fast as she could she saw the white doves descending onto the yellow and red ribbons she tied to the trees. They viciously tried to chew them off, as if to make her lost. As she ran, she saw that the poison worked; vultures were scattered across the ground, their bodies leaving markers for her to get back to the car. She thought she heard whispers behind her. But, most noticeably, as she turned around, she saw the cabin being swallowed up in the darkness that started to sweep over the woods. Wilhelmina was losing more sunlight by the second. Making turns she saw that some of the doves managed to pick away at quite a few ribbons. Left or right? Left or Right?! She ran straight, then saw the place that Hans noted out loud…three birch trees and the poison ivy. A few feet away, she would be safe. Sprinting with all her might, Mina swore she heard her name in the screams from the cabin behind her. But she did not turn around.

Exhausted and in grief, Mina took the keys out of her pocket and fell into the car. Putting it into drive, she took in a deep breath before speeding away. The once-white doves were now raging crows clawing each other’s eyes out. And in the distance, a screaming shadowy figure, covered in nightfall, pointed at her and then seemed to explode in pain. Mina was already gone, driving as fast as she could.

She cried in relief…and mourned the memories of her dear brother Hansel and her sweet sister Gretel…

PART FIVE: …In The Night

Looking out at the NYC skyline, Mina drank a sip of tea. The rain poured down the window as her new friends laughed in the background. Often she would stare out the window and think about a life she lived long ago. Margo, a neighbor, threw a pillow over at Mina. Everyone laughed,

“Mina, seriously, the skyline isn’t going to change. You are missing all the fun.”

Mina smiled and sat down with the group. She felt a slight headache coming on but paid it no mind. She had been working hard over the past month and had barely gotten any rest. Her life had gotten back what many on the outside considered normal. She was stronger. Wiser. Three years seemed like a lifetime ago, yet here she was in the middle of a new city around people she never would have dreamed to meet. But her heart still ached for her brother and sister.

Mina closed her eyes, telling herself that she would take a quick nap. No one would notice, they were used to her falling asleep at random times. Still catching up on years of sleep… As Mina drifted away, she felt her heart begin to race. Then, a sound resonated within her chest.

The flicker of a candle. A male's voice whispers,

“A life…for a life…”