~ Evil Kingdoms ~
-oo2
Okizari Tsukiyosyou
Fourteen years trickled by, and the twins grew older, though their adoptive parents did not change noticeably. The grave in which the dead woman's body lay was covered behind a thick veil of flowers of all shapes and sizes, a thousand different hues blazing in the golden sunlight of early morning, like a rainbow that had been snatched away from the heavens and wound up like a spiral, the series of glimmering colours still intact.
The twins had no other children to play with, and so became very close; there was no moment in time where they were not together, joined at the hand, whether they be playing in the gardens or wrestling in bed. Their golden hair grew out, and though Adam insisted he cut it, once Hansel reached the age where he stopped hanging to each and every word his parents' said he decided to grow it out. The result was that, with his hair released from the short, stubby pony-tail it was usually strung back in, he was like a carbon copy of Gretel, though with broader shoulders, narrower eyes and a less rounded chin. Gretel could do the exact opposite, by tying back her hair and slipping into a more 'masculine' attire.
Every day, Adam would, in the dead of night and with only the light of a candle to guild him, go to where the woman was buried, and stare. He often wondered if those beautiful flowers were growing so enthusiastically because of the dead body rotting beneath them; had those flowers sucked up all the remaining nutrients, like her blood and her flesh and her bones, and transformed it into fuel?
The thought sickened him.
The guilt of her murder - the murder of an innocent woman, simply trying to rescue her children from a violent stranger - tore at his insides like the talons of a bird of prey. Adam could not so much as breath without feeling the razor-bladed jolt of guilt snarling in his chest.
"Adam," Eve whispered, and her voice was like silk, gently caressing his ear drum, as her hand slipped into his own. "come back inside. It is too cold for you to be out here."
"The guilt," Adam breathed, his voice horse and harsh. "the guilt is killing me, Eve. I...I cannot stand to look at them!" There was no need to ask who them referred to.
"I know, Adam." Eve murmured, and she stared down at the flower bed; the grave. "I know."
Behind her long, sloping eye lashes, Eve's blue-green eyes suddenly darkened, and something cruel and sinful and malicious flared into life. Her fingers wrapped tightly about his, and she moved forward, her movements elegant and graceful, and she placed her chin on his broad shoulder and hissed:
"Let's kill them."
000
"Hansel! Hansel, catch!"
A round, creamy object came whizzing through the air, and Hansel gave a start as the ball smacked against the side of his head, and with a violent cry he and his seat toppled over, landing against the grassy earth with a painful-sounding thud. Hansel groaned pathetically, rolling over and squeezing his throbbing skull, while Gretel laughed hysterically, stumbling about the yard and clutching her stomach and tears sparkling in her eyes.
"Sh-shut up, Gretel!" Hansel growled as he blushed bright pink and he jerked his head up, only to hiss as a sharp, stinging pain shot through his scalp.
"I told you to catch!" Gretel giggled, prancing over and gently poking her brother's flushed cheek. Hansel glared at her, but already his anger was fading, dissolving into embarrassment and brotherly love beneath the affectionate gaze of his twin sister.
"You could've given me a bit more warning," he whined, blue eyes hurt.
Gretel laughed again, and her laugh was like the sweet whispering of wind whistling through silver chimes, and Hansel, despite his annoyance, could not help but smile. Gretel was, after all, his whole world, and the sound of her laughter always calmed his restless spirit, even if that restlessness was induced by Gretel's actions.
"Hansel! Gretel!" A cheery voice called, and two sets of sky-blue eyes snapped up, searching for the source; and they spotted their teal-haired mother half-hanging out of a window, waving her hand in a beckoning motion. "Lunch is ready! Hurry, before it gets cold!"
"Okay!" The twins sung as one, and Gretel helped Hansel climb off the ground, and together, their fingers intertwined like the branches of the canopy, they headed towards their home of the last fourteen years. It was a humble little house, with a wooden roof and creamy walls and a cobble-stone chimney; around the house grew the dense forest with thick-trunk trees and jade green leaves, threading together to create the canopy that terrified their mother so.
This isolated world, shut off from civilization and, seemingly, time itself, was all the twins knew.
Eve smiled slightly at their flushed, sweaty faces as the twins poured through the door, and, like foxes after rabbits, followed the sweet, alluring scent of Eve's freshly baked brioche, light and puffy and smelling as heavenly as ever. Adam was sitting at the back of the room, totally engrossed in his news paper; he did not so much as glance at the twins as they flopped into the chairs, simultaneously thanked their darling mother for the glorious pastry, and lunged ravenously as the food. They grinned at one another as Gretel smeared golden honey across the crisp, golden-brown surface, and Hansel sunk his teeth into the pastry, letting out a small squeak of delighted surprise.
"Th-this is great, mother!" He praised over his shoulder, blue eyes shinning like stars.
"Yeah!" Gretel chimed in agreement. "You've never cooked a brioche as good as this one, mother!"
Eve smiled warmly, skipping over and playfully ruffling her children' golden locks.
"Only the best for my kids!" She beamed. She leaned over and planted a soft kiss on Hansel's forehead, and a nosy one on Gretel's cheek. Gretel yowled like a startled cat and attempted to wriggle away, but Eve held her fast and forced another sloppy kiss on her face.
"AAAAAHHH! HAN! HELP ME! RIGHT NOW!"
"M-mother, please stop teasing her!"
Eve laughed loudly, cheerfully, as she pulled away from a hissing and spitting Gretel, who really did resemble a ticked off cat now, her blonde hair sticking up all over the place and her standard white bow flopping to the side.
Adam peered over the edge of his news paper, observing silently as Hansel stumbled over to his sister, fussing over her reddened cheeks and pissed off expression, and handed her a napkin, which she snatched away rather violently and practically whipped it at her cheeks. When that got her no where, she whined like a wounded animal, and looked to Hansel pleadingly. Hansel sighed, though a warm smile still graced his lips, took the napkin and did the job himself.
"You should be able to do that yourself, Greta." Hansel chided lightly.
Gretel pouted, blinking innocently, and Hansel laughed, a laugh so full of love and happiness that it drove a stalk through Adam's heart, and he felt a sudden icy chill ripple up his spine.
Adam gave a sharp gasp of shock when he felt tears well in his eyes, and, before anyone could catch sight of them, he quickly hid his face behind the blurry grey screen that was his news paper, and gripped the papers desperately between his long, rough fingers, liquid shimmering faintly on his cheeks.
"Kids, we're going out tonight," Eve announced as Gretel licked the remaining honey off her plate, and Hansel patted his stomach with a look of blissful satisfaction.
"Going out?" Gretel inquired curiously, gazing up at her mother, and Hansel mirrored her movements.
"Yep. The four of us are going to go collect fire wood together."
Hansel blinked in confusion, a small frown creasing his face. "Why? Father always goes and does that by himself. Besides, isn't dangerous to be outside at night? There are bears, aren't there?"
Annoyance flickered in Eve's eyes, and Hansel flinched, and sunk back into his chair, so his neck pressed fast against the cool wood. There was nothing that frightened him more then an angry Eve; except, perhaps, an angry Eve who's fury was directed at him.
"Stop worrying, Hansel," Gretel grumbled. Then she grinned broadly, and lightly punched his shoulder. "It'll be fun! Besides, father's got a gun and he can use it. We'll be safe."
Hansel still appeared doubtful, but he didn't dare say word with his mother hovering at his side, her eyes like daggers and her mouth a thin, disapproving line. But just as abruptly as her anger had appeared, it vanished, and Eve was once again her joyful, merry old self.
"Hansel has a point. But so does Gretel, we'll be fine. So get ready!" She commanded, pointing in the direction of the twins' room. "Go and get dressed in warmer clothing. It'll be cold tonight."
"Okay!" Gretel sang, and she bounded out of her chair and danced through the kitchen, but stopped outside the entrance to the hall way, shifting her weight from foot to foot and bouncing with excitement.
"Come on, Hansel!"
Hansel hesitated, but the pink-cheeked look of anticipation flushing his sister's round face beat whatever worries and suspicions he may have harboured, and, smiling weakly, he rose from his seat and collected the dishes.
"Okay, okay. Coming."
"Awesome! Meet you in our room!"
"Okay."
But Gretel didn't hear him, she was already gone, and Hansel let his timid smile fall right of his face.
"It'll be fun, Hansel," Eve insisted from the living room. She was standing right in front of the cobble-stone fire place, a large, glossy pot of stew gurgling audible above the orange flames that licked hungrily at the base. Her teal-coloured hair was held securely behind her head as she leaned forward slightly, lifting her hands to warm by the fire. Adam was yet to leave his seat, and, Hansel noticed, had been reading the same newspaper page for a number of minutes.
"I know. I'm just...just a little worried, I guess." He chuckled nervously as he dumped the dishes in the sink. Then he blushed, and confessed: "The thought of being in the forest at night really scares me."
"You'll be fine." Eve promised, looking up and smiling.
Adam was silent.
000
With their bellies full of chicken stew and another freshly baked round of honey-coated brioche, the twins were literally nodding off as the family started down the road, Hansel and Gretel clasping each others hands as they always did, Adam and Eve walking side by side, exchanging brief, haunting glances as they moved further and further into the dark, gloomy forest.
"Hey, mother," Gretel yawned, absentmindedly rubbing her eye with her free hand. "What kind of fortune will come to us at the end of this path?"
Eve blinked in astonishment. "I'm sorry?"
"'Will we be able to eat lots of our favourite snacks over there?' is what she means." Hansel translated in a lazy voice.
"Ah...well, maybe, dear. Just stay awake, now."
Gretel blinked groggily, and gave a sort of half-nod before resting her head on Hansel's shoulder. They continued on walking for a short period of silence, with only the soft hum of the forest to fill the void. Then a thought popped magically into Hansel's mind.
"Father," He murmured. "will God be waiting for us at the end of the path?"
"We're going to collect fire wood, Hansel." Adam reminded him dryly.
"Oh, yeah." Hansel screwed his eyes shut, and opened them slowly, willing his brain to continue operating. As he looked up, he caught a glimpse of his father's face; and it was a sorrowful face, with heavy purple bags induced by lack of sleep, hanging like sacks beneath his blue eyes, so empty and cold when he looked at his children. His mouth was a straight, hard line, as though it had been carved into his very face, and there was not a hint of happiness, not a drop of joy, anywhere in his expression.
With his mind steadily slipping into slumber, Hansel did not think twice before asking:
"Why are you looking at us with such a sad face?"
Adam started, but composed himself quickly and hurriedly looked away, refusing Hansel an answer. He stared pointedly at his father's back for a few minutes, hoping to force a response by pressure-power alone, but Adam ignored his existence all together, and the hole he was burning into his shirt. Hansel huffed in defeat.
"Greta," He whispered, poking her gently in the arm. Gretel was just about asleep; almost all her body weight was resting solely on his shoulder, and her footsteps were small and clumsy, her eye-sight blurred by her longing to sleep. But she managed to form a reply, though it was nothing short of a few muffled murmurs, something along the lines of: "Tired...wanna sleep..."
Hansel smiled.
"Mother, father!" He called, and Adam and Eve stopped and stared at him. "Gretel is about to collapse. Do you mind if we stay here? We're close to the house, aren't we?" In truth, Hansel hadn't been watching where they were going. He was too tired to care, really, and he trusted his parents' to lead them back.
Adam's eyes went wide as saucers, but Eve grinned and nodded enthusiastically.
"Oh, that's fine, Han." She gushed, skipping over and gently pushing Hansel down via his shoulders. "You and Greta wait here for us. Adam! You brought two guns, didn't you? One for each of us? Give one to Hansel."
Adam gaped at her, but did not argue, and obediently passed Hansel the smaller of the two weapons. It felt strangely warm and light between his fingers, and glittered in an ominous way in the faint moonlight.
"If there's any trouble, shot that and Adam and I will come running, okay?" Eve instructed, crouching sound and giving him a light peck on the cheek. "You can do that, right?" Hansel nodded. "Good boy. And good girl, Greta." Eve looked to Gretel, and was a little surprised to see she'd already drifted into a deep sleep.
"I know what to do, mother. But don't take to long, please?" Hansel pleaded. He looked around anxiously. "I...I hate this darkness."
"Well be back before you know it. Bye, sweety." Eve then stood and, taking Adam's hand, wife and husband scurried off into the black forest, leaving their twin children alone.
Hansel stared after them, watching and watching until their figures were all but swallowed up by the veil of night; then he puffed out a sigh and snuggled closer to his sister. The dark world around him was oppressive and huge, black and menacing; it seemed to push against him on all sides, suffocating him, drowning him. Monsters with a thousand eyes and spidery legs scuttled along just out of sight, hissing and watching and whispering across the earth-
Don't think about that! Hansel clutched the gun close to his chest and begged his over-active imagination to shut off. Suddenly he wasn't so tired anymore, and his mind was wide awake, and very alert to every rustle of a bush, snap of a twig, hoot of an owl; his heart thundered away in his chest and sweat glimmered on his forehead.
"Hurry back, mother." Hansel croaked.
000
The house, Adam noted, seemed strangely empty without the twins.
He wandered into the living room and watched in a strange state of numbness as Eve danced into the kitchen and pulled her apron off the counter, deftly tying it about her waist. She seemed totally fine, totally at ease, with the fact that they'd just cast away the two children she'd yearned for. That she'd killed for.
"This is much better isn't, Adam?" Eve laughed, tapping the counter with her hands, as though she was playing the drum. "Two less mouths to feed. I never realized how poor we were until we took them in, you know? I had to save up weeks worth of wages to buy those brioche! And listen!" She cupped her ear and Adam blinked, unable to comprehend what she was doing. "No noise! No fighting, no annoyingly high-pitched laughter - just silence! It's it nice?"
"Y...yeah." Adam mumbled, his lips dry. "It-it is nice." He slumped down in a near-by chair, and heaved a great, shuddering sigh. He rested his chin in the palm of his hand, his elbow propped up against the chair, and closed his eyes.
"It's nice."
000
They're not coming back, are they?
Hansel didn't want to admit it, wanted to somehow beat the thought away, but it was the horrible, bitter truth, and he knew it. He wasn't stupid. He wasn't some dim-witted kid who blindly followed orders, though tonight may have portrayed him differently.
Adam and Eve weren't coming back.
They had been gone for hours; the moon was now half-way through the sky.
He and Gretel had been abandoned in the middle of the night, with only the dim, watery light of the great moon leaking in through rare breaks in the canopy above to guild them, and unknown creatures of the forest for company.
Fear like none Hansel had ever experienced before swelled monstrously in his stomach, and it was like someone had tossed ice-cold water over his head. His mind went blank, and he stared unseeingly out at the landscape that seemed so alien yet was so close to home.
He hadn't noticed before, but Eve had led them down a completely different path then the one they normally took. This neck of the forest held thicker trees with gnarled roots and holey leaves, while the trees they were used to were leaner and harboured broader leaves of a rich green hue. Even in the light of day, Hansel was quite certain these leaves would be a darker colour, something closer to green-grey.
"Gretel," He hissed, shaking his sister by the shoulders. "Gretel! Wake up! We're in trouble!"
"I-I didn't do it! I swear!" Gretel barked, her blue eyes snapping open and her body jerking upright. She flung her hands out as if to ward off any reaching hands or disapproving comments. When she realized it was just Hansel there, staring stupidly at her, she blushed bright pink and laughed awkward, scratching the back of her neck.
"Sorry...What were you saying?"
"We're in trouble."
Gretel frowned. "How so?"
"Mother and father left us in the forest," he said tonelessly, and Gretel gasped. "They left hours ago to supposedly look for fire wood, but they never came back."
"..no..." Gretel shook her head wildly. "M-mother wouldn't do that! Neither would father! Th-they love us- ...don't they?" Tears sparkled in her eyes.
"Are they really our parents in the first place?" Hansel whimpered bitterly. Tears were beginning to form in his eyes, too. "They don't look anything like us, you know. Apart from father's eyes, but his are much darker then ours. Mother has green hair, for crying out loud!"
"So they left us!" Gretel shrieked. "Left us here to-to-"
"-to die." Hansel finished, his voice barely above a whisper.
They sat in silence, and even the forest seemed to quieten, and allowed them the time to grief. Sadness swirled in Hansel's chest, but there was something else, too; something darker, crueller. Anger. Unbelievable amounts of angry. His supposed 'parents' had betrayed not only him, but his darling sister - and their betrayal had caused her to shed tears. He balled his hands to fists, and dug his nails into his skin with such strength that his knuckles shone white. Anger burned in his chest and the need to hit, to hurt, strengthened with each passing second; he wanted those fakes to pay, to pay for what they were putting Gretel through, for everything that was yet to happen, for the darkness, for his terrible, inhuman fear, for Gretel's tears-
And then Gretel was on her feet, and she was tugging at his shirt.
"Hansel, let's go."
Hansel stared up at her. "Wh-what?"
"Let's go!" She shouted. "I..I can't stand to just sit here! Let's go!"
Hansel nodded, understanding his sister's need to move, and stood with her, gripping her hand reassuringly between his fingers. Gretel wiped her tears away, sniffing loudly; the groped around in her pocket for something. A few moments later she pulled free a tiny glass bottle that instantly caught the silvery light and shone like a star, lighting up the previously dark path within a heart-beat. The watery moonlight danced off the foggy surface, and Hansel and Gretel gasped in amazement.
"Whoa." Hansel breathed, eyes wide. "Greta, what..?"
"It's our old milk bottle." Gretel explained, her eyes bright with awe. "I saw mother" - her voice broke slightly, but a quick squeeze from Hansel's hand brought her back - "throwing it out, but I thought it was pretty and stole it from the trash can. I brought it with us...I'm glad I did, though."
"Me, too." Hansel took the bottle from Gretel's hand and lifted it higher; the silver light stretched long and wide, illuminating their selected path. It was riddled with twisted roots and tuffs of grass and scattered piles rotting leaves; but it was a path.
"Let's go."
000
The twins had no idea how long passed. It may have been years, or a mere few seconds. But time seemed to slow to a stand-still as they milled aimlessly through the gloomy forest of gigantic trees and blackened leaves and grotesquely shaped roots, bursting out out the earth at random moments like fossilized waves.
To pass the time, they told each other stories. Stories about princes and princesses and distant kingdoms with huge, majestic castles. Hansel didn't particularly like the lovey-dovey stories where the oh-so handsome hero slew the fire breathing dragon rescued his own personal damsel in distress, and though Gretel agreed they could do without the stereotypically helpless women, she enjoyed the action and the romance, so Hansel told as many of those stories as he could think of.
Eventually, they reached the story from which their names originated. The story of Hansel and Gretel by the famous Master mothy. A tale of twins who got lost in the woods, and were taken in by a seemingly kind old lady who turned out to be a wicked, green-skinned witch hell-bent on cooking them up and eating them. (Though in Hansel's story, Hansel did nothing but sit in the corner and suck his thumb while Gretel killed the witch and saved them both. That version made Gretel giggle every time, no matter the circumstances under which it was told).
At what point the twins began to believe the story to be reality...no-one can be sure of.
000
"Hansel!"
Gretel's frantic whisper was low and urgent, and Hansel blinked himself back into reality, hulling himself out the dream-like state he so often slipped into. Gretel was holding the glowing bottle now, and she was walking a little ahead of him, though their hands were still glued together. The bottle's light, Hansel noted, seemed stronger then before, and -
- and yellow?
"Candle light?" He guessed in a low voice, and Gretel nodded in confirmation. Gretel harshly smacked the bottle against the earth, and the thin glass shattered with a musical hiss, and darkness descended once again; but the golden-yellow candle light cut through it like a knife through butter, lighting the way. Hansel collected up the glass, and offered Gretel several pieces, which she hurriedly stuffed into one of her many pockets; Hansel did the same with his pieces, and was careful not to slice himself on the sharp, glassy edge.
Now alert, Hansel bent low and tip-toed around in the darkness with his sister, peering over the leering branches and broad leaves. They found themselves staring into a clearing, in which a humble house stood, puffing smoke from a stone chimney and leaking light through curtained windows. It appeared sweet and friendly at first, but the twins knew better.
That was the home of the evil witch.
"Her henchmen," Hansel growled venomously, twitching his head towards the black outline of a tall, lean man standing at the foot of a flower bed, where the flowers grew strong and proud.
"And the witch," Gretel added in a equally loathing tone, glancing at the window where the blurry silhouette of a woman rippled over the curtains.
"Let's kill them," Gretel insisted. "we'll be so much happier if they were dead."
"Yeah." Hansel nodded in agreement. "Let's kill them. I'll take the henchmen. Will you be okay by yourself?"
"Just who do you think you're talking to?" Gretel scoffed. Then she freed her hand from his and disappeared into the undergrowth, and Hansel stalked soundlessly towards the henchmen, his footsteps careful and cautious.
The henchmen looked somewhat sorrowful as he stared down at the flower bed, but Hansel didn't care. The henchmen had to die; otherwise he would go and save the witch, undoubtedly killing Gretel in the process.
And Hansel could not - would not - allow his sister to be murdered.
As he neared the henchmen's ghostly outline, Hansel reached around and felt the icy, metallic surface of the gun tickle his skin, and, silently, he tugged it free. The raven surface glimmered ever so faintly as it briefly touched the moonlight, but once it was in the darkness, it seemed to materialize into the air, completely invisible to the world; the only evidence that it even existed was the fact Hansel could feel it, light and smooth, between his fingers.
It was the gun his so called 'father' had given him, before unceremoniously dumping him and Gretel in the middle of no-where. The gun, Hansel knew, had only one bullet; one glossy grey, cylinder-shaped bullet, rounded and smooth, waiting patiently to be fired and end the life of an unsuspecting target.
He couldn't afford to miss.
He crawled forward slowly, the gun hovering beside his knee. The henchmen stood still as a stature, unaware of his impending death. Hansel kept moving until the henchmen was practically beside him - his head of blue hair unkept and forking this way and that in lazy, sloping spikes - and Hansel raised the gun, and tried to ignore the fear blooming in his chest, squeezing his lungs and clawing at his throat. His hands had begun to tremble, and sweat was trickling down his face.
Hansel swallowed.
And then pulled the trigger.
BANG
The henchmen screamed.
000
Gretel sneaked noiselessly through the garden, and gently nudged open a window. The cold air stirred the curtains and caused the already pathetically weak candles to flicker, but other then that, there was no reaction, and, silent as a mouse, Gretel heaved herself over the frame and landed with a wispy thump. She froze in place, arms half-raised and eyes wide.
Nothing.
She let out a sigh of relief, then looked around. The room in which she stood cowering was small and square, with twin unmade beds shoved into a corner, white sheets askew and pillows tossed carelessly across the room. There were several books piled haphazardly on one bed, and there was brown haired doll clad in a scarlet red dress on the other, her head resting in the very place a pillow should have sat.
Gretel stared curiously at the beds, at the doll and the books; and then shook herself and scurried to the door, gently prodding it open, and peering cautiously into the hallway beyond. The hallway was void of light, but the wishy-washy light cast by a fire burning in the living room glowed ominously near the very end. Gretel could hear someone humming gleefully, and the clip-clap sound of feet skipping across a titled floor.
Gretel's heart skipped a beat.
The witch!
Gretel tip-toed down the hall, trying to ignore her rapidly racing heart, and glanced into the kitchen.
The witch was there, her back to Gretel. She was wearing her glossy black travelling cap, the one that obscured her ghastly face from view, and she was putting some pots and pans back into the cupboard. On the bench was a bowl of some sort of creamy yellow liquid, bubbling and spitting and issuing steam.
Gretel licked her dry lips, and reached for the glass in her pocket. The razor edge cut into her skin, but Gretel scarcely felt it. All she could think about was the witch; kill the witch, kill the witch, kill the witch!
Gretel's fear evaporated, and she stormed angrily into the kitchen, lifting the glass high over her head as though it were a knife. The witch didn't notice her - she was too engrossed in her own peaceful little world of roses and leaks to bother watching her surroundings - and Gretel swung the glass down, down down down -
BANG!
"AAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!"
The crack of a gun shot, quickly followed by a horrific scream of pain, shattered the silence, and the witch and Gretel both shrieked in shock, jumping in fright and dropping whatever they were holding. The pans clattered nosily against the titles, and the glass shattered into a million diamond-like pieces, glinting and glimmering in the fire's angry red light. The witch whipped round, alerted by the sound, with her turquoise eyes blazing like the flames of the heath, and Gretel's felt fear grip her heart.
"YOU!" The witch screeched, and she threw herself at Gretel, knocking her backwards. Gretel screamed, and lashed out with her sharp-nailed fingers, and clawed at the witch's faces. The witch fought back, furiously, wildly - like an enraged animal - and bite hard into Gretel's arm, drawing blood and kicking at her legs. They as one raging mass of thrashing bodies, rolling around on the ground and screaming and snarling and punching -
Gretel slammed her knee into the witch's gut, and the witch gagged. Gretel shoved her away and, sobbing, attempted to scramble to her feet, using the bench as leverage; but the witch's hand whipped out and caught her ankle, and Gretel screamed in fright as she was wrenched back down. Her fingers automatically curled into a fist, but instead clasped around something and it was pulled down with her. Gretel swung the object about in a huge, frantic arc, flinging it at the witch.
And boiling stew splashed her face - her eyes - and the witch threw her head back and shrieked.
"MY EYES!" She wailed. She clambered to her feet and stumbled forward, but she was no longer reaching for Gretel, but instead searching for the sink, for cold water. "MY EYES!"
Gretel started, and looked at her hands. She was holding the pan she'd seen earlier, steaming on the bench. She looked at the witch, screaming and crying and utterly helpless.
Gretel grinned victoriously.
She leapt to her feet, bounded to the witch, and smashed the pan into her side. The witch cried out and tumbled across the floor, and lay there for a moment, writhing pain. Yet, somehow, she managed to get to her feet again, but Gretel was coming, and she was swinging the pan like a mad awe-men, slapping at any skin she could find and leaving ugly red marks in her wake.
The witch retreated across the room, weeping and screaming the whole time. The battling pair moved closer and closer to the furnace which burned fiercely, beckoning them forward. Gretel stared into the fire, into it's red-orange flames and blazing ambers, and understood. She threw her away her pan and dived forward, using all her body weight against the witch, and the witch was flung backwards, off her feet -
- and straight into the fire.
A screech like none Gretel had ever heard before split the air like a lightning bolt, but was silenced almost instantly as the fire flared, filling the room with a blinding white light that sent Gretel reeling. She raised her hands in a helpless motion, desperately attempting to shield her eyes.
And then the light was gone, and Gretel lowered her hands and looked around the empty room, panting hard and bathed in her own sweat.
The witch was dead.
000
Adam felt as though his face was on fire; the pain issuing from a bloody lump of flesh dangling from the side of his face that had once been his ear. Blood cascaded down his face in crimson rivers, splattering against his shirt and oozing across the material, and Adam screamed and screamed, pain searing in his very veins. He clamped his hand over the wound and stumbled towards the house, screaming and crying and his legs wobbling like jelly, and blood - oh, god, the blood - spilling everywhere, painting everything a rich and glorious red.
Over the piercing sound of his own shrieks, Adam didn't hear the rustle of bushes parting or the thunder of foot falls. But he did feel the sharp kick to his chest that knocked all the air from his lungs, and the sweeping blow to his feet, ripping them out from under him. He fell, and his body slapped hard against the earth, but before he could move, there was another kick - this time to his head - and the world spun and blurred over, like a fog had suddenly descended.
His eyes rolled in their sockets, and, looking up, he saw the faceless outline of a boy, a boy with golden hair, and a revolver clasped firmly between trembling hands. The faded lips were moving - forming words - but Adam could hear nothing. He was staring at the golden hair, that beautiful golden hair, strung back in a stubby pony-tail and spiking out near his forehead -
Hansel.
Something fierce awoke in Adam's chest, and with a roar he launched himself off the ground and bodily shoved Hansel back, knocking the boy off his feet and sending his smashing against the earth. The world whirled and Adam stumbled, but he did not fall, and after a few hasty blinks, it all fell back into focus.
Adam marched over to Hansel, who was gasping for breath, and brought his foot crashing down on the boy's stomach. Hansel's mouth flew open in a soundless scream of agony.
"You're...you're supposed to be dead!" Adam cried, delivering another agonizing kick. "Eve and I abandoned you! You were both supposed to die-"
Suddenly, another bout of pain erupted - this time in his leg - and Adam shouted in pained surprise. He looked down and was horrified to see Hansel burying a piece of glass into his leg, gouging at the muscles, at the tendons; ripping away at his tender flesh. The glass tore at Hansel's bare hand, as well, but the boy didn't seem to notice, and gave a mighty cry as he thrust the glass deep into Adam's leg, so deep that more then a half of the piece vanished into the bloody mess of his leg, and Adam screamed in utter agony, and wrenched his leg away.
But the glass had already tore through something important, something vital, and blood squirted out of the wound like a red fountain, and painted the black world crimson. Adam felt a wave of painful exhaustion wash over him, and with a terrible jolt he realized he was bleeding to death.
He...
He was dying.
"No..." He moaned miserably. "No...I don't want to die..."
He staggered, and collapsed to his knees; blood was gushing everywhere, and his heart was beating rapidly in his chest, and the world was quickly fading into blackness. He heard the ragged gasping of breath, and saw Hansel wriggle onto his feet, staring, horror-struck, at the blood pooling across the grass.
"You..." Adam seethed, and, with impressive speed, he clambered over to where Hansel stood gaping and snatched him by the collar, dragging him back down. Blood splashed against his shirt, and the plain white material was stained scarlet.
"You killed me." Adam rasped. "I...I will-"
His words were drowned out, however, by a blood curdling scream, and brilliant white light streamed out the windows like laser beams, setting the yard - and Adam's blood - ablaze. The flare of light only lasted a few blinding seconds, and black soon fell, but tears flooded Adam's eyes and streamed down his face.
"E-Eve..." He choked.
And then his eyes glazed over, and he fell, lifeless and limp, into Hansel's lap.
000
Hansel stared at the bloody body curled up on his lap, his eyes as wide as saucers. His heart was beating so fast it was a wonder it didn't burst out of his chest, and his body was drenched with sweat, and his middle-section burned with the pain of the henchmen's repeated striking. His breathing was laboured, and his mind seemed somehow foggy, sluggish.
But...
The henchmen was dead.
He'd done it. He'd killed the henchmen.
And that light -
Had Gretel killed the witch?
Or had the witch -
Panic struck Hansel like a bullet to the chest, and he roughly threw the body aside and sprung to his feet. He bashed the door in with his foot and charged into the house, oblivious to the throbbing pain in his stomach and the blood flowing freely from his hand and the splatters dying across his shirt. He cast his sight around, searching mindlessly for his sister.
"Gretel! Gretel! Are you okay!"
"H-Hansel...? Hansel!"
A moment later, Gretel appeared, and her face was white as a sheet and dripping with sweat, but she was grinning widely and her eyes twinkled with excitement.
"Hansel!" She squealed, happiness flashing across her face.
"Gretel!" Hansel raced over to his sister and captured her in a bear hug that she immediately returned, laughing and smiling and giggling.
"Oh, thank god! I was scared that you'd been hurt!" Gretel gushed, and then she noticed the strange, wet warmth and pulled away. She blanched at the sight of the blood and covered her mouth with her hands, eyes going wide.
"H-Hansel, is that your -"
"No, no," Hansel stammered. "I-it's the henchmen's blood. Don't worry about it."
Gretel visibly relaxed, and dropped her hands. "Oh, thank goodness- ah! Your hand!"
Gretel took his bleeding hand in hers, and stared in disgust and horror at the crimson liquid seeping between his quivering fingers. Hansel offered a weak smile.
"It's fine," He insisted, but Gretel shook her head in exasperation and lead him into the living room, where the fire roared with renewed strength and the charred, blackened remains of what had once been Eve Moonlit crumbled into soot.
"The henchmen?" Gretel questioned as Hansel seated himself down in one of the two chairs surrounding the bare table, cradling his hand, and Gretel strolled into the kitchen, hunting for some cloths to clean the wound with.
"Dead. And the witch...?"
Gretel twitched her lips into what looked more like a bitter, twisted grimace then a triumphant smile. "I tossed her in the oven."
Hansel let out a soft "Ah" of realization, remember the sudden explosion of bright light that had blinded him for several seconds while battling with the bleeding henchmen. He glanced at the fire, and spied the pile of smouldering black soot, and felt a sick sense of satisfaction build in his chest. They had won. The evil witch and her equally evil henchmen were dead and gone.
Hansel watched the ashes, trying and failing to imagine them as a healthy, fully grown woman with a voice and a soul and a husband. The ashes, he noticed, were beginning to smoke, to hiss and spit, and Hansel frowned in confusion. Did ashes normally do that? He could not recall witnessing anything similar in the past fourteen years. He squinted and stared down at the ashes intently, his mouth and eyes stretching open as the ash suddenly began to take on a new appearance all together; greens and purples and blues and yellows and reds swirling into one vivid mass that expanded and sparkled and rose higher, higher into the air -
"Gretel!" Hansel shouted urgently, springing out of his chair and backing away from the mass of colours.
"What?" Gretel demanded icily, annoyed by the abrupt summoning, but her anger was snuffed out by the incredible sight. She gasped loudly and clenched Hansel's uninjured hand, and together they cowered with their backs fast against the wall, gaping like a pair of stunned mullets.
A glowing orb of purple floated out from the mass and transformed into a beautifully alluring flower; and somehow, the twins just knew it was the sin of Lust. It was followed by a circle of red, which became pomegranate seeds, and it was Gluttony. The third was a pair of glistening diamonds, yellow as a sun flower, and they were Pride. The fourth was Envy, and it was a pink, transparent glass of fresh spring water. The next was Sloth, and it was a gust of winter winds, upon which was carried a woman who resembled the deceased Eve. The sixth, Greed, morphed into a blue hour glass carrying soil inside, and the seventh, Wrath, was white with a sicken green-ish tinge, and it became a tiny, ominous moon, like the white eye of Satan, glaring down at them.
The twins could only watch, awe-struck and stupefied, as the seven deadly sins were lifted towards the ceiling by some unseen force and fluttered out through the chimney, disappearing into the blue-black, star-sprinkled sky.
"I hope the world cleanses them," Gretel whispered in evident fear, but also astonished respect.
Hansel squeezed her hand.
"Me too."
Some time later, after the numb excitement over what they had witnessed died away, the twins curled up in the unmade beds and dreamt of their real mother and father smiling down at the from heaven. They laid with their hands and heads together, and light, warm smiles gracing their lips.
Good gosh, that was a LONG chapter! (Lame ending, though) On CompareOffice, it was about 18 pages long! Holy gosh! I've never written something so long! The reason it was so long, btw, is because I love the Kagamine twins, who play Hansel and Gretel~ They're just adorable.
I wrote the fight scenes quite late at night, and I don't particularly like them, but, meh, I've never been good at fight scenes anyway.
I apologize for any grammar mistakes. I read through it, but it was a long chapter.
Heh, is my story that bad? No reviews at all? *shrugs* oh well. I'm writing this story for me. But, still, thanks for reading! And if you COULD review, though, that would make my day~! xD