A Different Tale of Hansel and Gretel

“Mother will be alright,” the woodcutter stated, gently patting his daughter.

Gretel wiped away the tears in her eyes. She told herself that she should stay strong, at least for her father. The maid ran out of the room, her hands covered in blood and an apparent worry glooming like the storm clouds outside. She whispered something barely audible and her father rushed in.

He came out carrying a child in his arms but tears were dripping out of his eyes. Father handed her Hansel as he tried to tell her what happened. Gretel understood and accepted it as fate (better than most kids her age would have done). She felt the warmth Hansel radiated, the very heat that kept her woe at bay.

That was 4 years ago. Gretel had now grown into a beautiful teenage girl. Her golden hair that fell like curls around her face and the mesmerizing pair of blue eyes she was enough to sweep any guy off his feet. She had a cruel, evil woman for a stepmother now. One night, Gretel woke up to the sounds of her parents shouting at each other. She took care not to wake Hansel up as she slipped out of the room as quietly as a mouse.

“We can’t just abandon… I can’t bear to say it! My blood and flesh, wandering all alone in the woods. You know the story of my sister and I,” the croaking voice of her father replied to some anonymous question.

“Don't remind me of that cock and bull story of yours. The dwindling amount of food supplies says differently. Our neighbours have resorted to a far worse fate. They killed and fed on their children. We’re much better than those monsters! At least see some reason in what I have to say. What will you do when we have no food, no money?”

“But she’s the only-“ Father wanted to say something but decided again...

... middle of paper ...

...Anytime soon… All your misery will fade away,” muttered the witch as she began to eat Gretel’s heart.

A new pain burst into Gretel’s body, like a thousand swords stabbed into her body. She cried in pain, knowing she was going to her death. The witch eyed the dying Gretel happily.

A green smoke engulfed both the witch and Gretel for a matter of seconds before dissipating into the morning air. The wrinkles on her flesh had vanished, replaced by a porcelain white skin. She looked flawless, the witch thought to herself. She began to laugh a cruel form of laughter at some unknown joke. She had done it… A feeling of self-accomplishment overwhelmed her.

“See that mother, I got what I wanted.” The witch muttered, staring at the portrait of the woman in her witch gown. In the shimmering light, the faded letters read the name, ‘Malaficient’.