A/n: Could it ….be? Am I truly…….alive? And…..updating?

Let's find out together, shall we?

Disclaimer: I hate the movie the Blair Witch Project, but I felt its presence strongly in my mind as I wrote…..so that you understand when you come across the reference in here, Blair Witch paraphernalia, in case you haven't seen the movie, is anything creepy and or bloody and made out of sticks or piles of stones.

No humans or insects were harmed in the writing of this story.

CHAPTER THREE – In Which Evil Children Try To Be Crafty Yet Fail And The Author Exhibits A Rather Unique Slash Drug-Induced Utilization Of Vocabulary And Plot

The mother hopped around the kitchen floor, clutching at one foot with her hands and yodeling. No, she wasn't doing an ancient snow dance to ensure a bountiful gingerbread harvest. She was simply trying to get the children ready for a lunchtime outing in the Forbidforbodingden Forest.

But since getting ready for a picnic lunch involves ablutions that might be considered "normal", or "socially acceptable", Hansel and Gretel were having nothing to do with it. Well, nothing other than kicking the mother's foot so hard that her toes ran off into the sunset.

Hansel danced the victorious demon dance while Gretel squealed with glee. The mother's eyes glowed with malicious anger, but she restrained herself from attacking Hansel; he had the phone number for the Child Protective Services memorized. Although abuse had never occurred in the parent-to-child direction, he gave the CPS agency a ring every so often, just to make sure that the mother never left the crusts on his sandwiches again and that the father never moved from the Cowering Corner in the cellar.

The mother spoke. "HEAR ME NOW, DENIZENS OF-" she choked, coughed, and tried again. "Ahem. Children, please come out to the front pathway. Your father and I wish to take you on a little picnic to reward you for…." she frantically searched her mind for any good deed they had done in the past nine and a half years. "Um……not killing anything yesterday! Okay! Let's go!"

Gretel and Hansel (ha, you never see their names written in THAT order; chauvinistic fairy tale authors to blame) gave the mother identical shifty-eyed looks. She didn't often speak to them, and when she did, it was usually a garbled sort of shrieking.

Communicating solely by eye movements, they agreed to play along with this little game. If their parents were really trying to pull something, maybe Gretel and Hansel could FINALLY get them permanently incarcerated, thus fulfilling the children's greatest dreams. (They did not realize that, in truth, the mother and the father would rather be in a high-security prison than living in that hellhole of a home.)

They walked out the door obligingly. Of course, Gretel couldn't resist spitting on the mother's only remaining neckerchief as they passed. The mother's face contorted into a fascinatingly evil smile behind the children's backs. Only a few hours to go.

Outside, there were some interesting cumulus clouds blocking out the sun and creating a creepy semi-darkness. The father crawled towards the children in his position of ultimate submission. After what had happened last time he stood near them, he'd vowed never to do it again.

The…."family" set out together along the sandy path, into the deep, dark forest. Creepy music had started up in the background as the mother surveyed the surrounding trees, checking for Blair Witch paraphernalia. Nothing. She sighed, realizing that they were in for quite a walk. At least the Spawns of Satan were keeping themselves occupied, busily smashing every insect that crossed their path. (Note: as you will soon discover, killing insects will most definitely be harmful to your health. Don't forget these moralistic principles I'm pressing on you.)

A bird flying over the group looked down and laughed birdily. It wasn't every day that he saw a grown man crawling on the ground, glancing fearfully over his shoulder at two children with fire in their eyes, followed by a woman with a stained neckerchief and sunken eyes. Still chuckling, the bird looked far ahead over the treetops. It gasped, turned white, and swiftly turned around to fly in the opposite direction.

After about an hour and a half walk, the children had turned to gouging at their father's eyes for entertainment (okay, I know that this story is really violent and disturbing. I'm really a peaceful person, I just need to convey H and G's evilness. I apologize). His whimpering caused the mother to stop the group for some food.

She threw the picnic basket into the clutching claws of Gretel and Hansel and picked up the father, laying him over her shoulder.

Consumed by one of the seven deadly sins (gluttony, no duh), Gretel and Hansel were too busy stuffing their faces to notice as the mother subtly sprinted off into the woods, with the father in tow. (She was temporarily possessed by a superhuman strength, one so powerful that her feet actually left the ground during her escape. The father seemed to weigh almost nothing in her arms. She found her way home in record time and both the parents engaged in a dance of fierce glee, after which they fell into a stupor and lay on the grass for several days. Don't worry about them, the kind woodsmen living nearby made sure they were given medical care.)

It is the children you need to worry about now.

bwahahahahahaahahaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa

A/n again: Sorry for shortness, descriptiveness, and violence. It is late and I am tired! If anyone still reads my stories, thank Nosilla for the posting. She forces me to find time to write (thanks!!! Here is a post finally I'm sorry it's so short  )

Be smart be safe my friends

I will really and truly write more soon, I want to punish the evil children now