"So, where are we again?" Gretel asked her brother as they trekked through the wood, the sun sating beams of light through the green tree canopies overhead. The dirt trail they walked was beaten down with multiple prints- some human, some not. Gretel could see wheel tracks in the center, followed by scattered hoof prints.

"The cricket said this place was called Mysthaven," Hansel said, squaring his shoulders as he walked. Gretel nodded, brushing back her brown hair from her face.

"Did this cricket say anything else?" Gretel tested him, her tone bitter with uncertainty. There was no way that crickets were able to talk. That being said, she hunted witches for a living, so she really wasn't one to talk, now was she?

"He said it was commonly known as the Enchanted Forest," Hansel said, ignoring Gretel's attitude, "and that we're bound to run into a princess or two." Gretel rolled her eyes.

"Like who?" Gretel smirked, "Snow White? Cinderella?" Hansel stopped in his tracks, kicking up clouds of dust as he turned to face her, giving her an uneasy look.

"Yes, actually," he confirmed, "How'd you know?"

"You can't be serious." Gretel shook her head, "Hansel, those are fairy tales! They aren't real!"

"According to the cricket they are," Hansel shrugged as they continued walking. Gretel opened her mouth to say something, but closed it instead, crossing her arms over her chest. The leather rod her clothes squeaked due to friction, and she could feel the fabric dig lightly into her armpits. The heat from walking so much wasn't helping either, her braid plastered to her clothes and skin with perspiration.

"I can't believe you're taking directions from a cricket," she said.

"And I can't believe that you still think that there are no other magical creatures besides witches," Hansel shot back, adding after a quick moment of silence, "He said we should reach the town soon, so be ready."

"Uh-huh," Gretel licked her lips. They stung as saliva flew across cuts and chaps. Some were covered in dried blood, but Gretel didn't really have time to take care of things like chapped lips. Not in her field, anyway.

"Are you doubting me?" Hansel asked.

"No," Gretel said, but you aren't exactly the best when it comes to directions. Especially when you get them from a god-damned cricket." Hansel groaned, wiping his forehead free of sweat. He could see buildings on the horizon, and he squinted as he grabbed Gretel, pointing them out.

"You doubt me now?" he teased, and Gretel raised her hands in defeat.

"Alright then," she said, 'You win. But you have to pay for drinks once we get there."

"Whatever you say, sis," Hansel agreed, whistling a little tune t himself as they neared the town's gates. The wooden archway leading into the town square looked rickety, pieces of the wood having been eaten away by rot and mold. The entire thing looked haphazardly set up, and Gretel wrinkled her nose as they crossed under it, her eye catching rather large spiderwebs created into the uppermost corners of the architectural structure.

The town itself was small, with a large stone well resting smack in the middle. Cottages were stationed on either side, positioned like rows of obedient soldiers. The inhabitants were milling about, some pushing carts, others dragging children behind them as they walked. A boy in his mid-teens caught Gretel's gaze as he passed, clutching a glass bottle of milk. He had curly brown hair, and his eyes were filled with wonder as he stared at her; she had to admit that it was rather uncomfortable. Gretel gave him a small smile, hoping to politely see the boy off.

Thankfully, he ran in the opposite direction, and the siblings watched as he ran into a nearby house.

"Looks like you got yourself an admirer," Hansel sang, and Gretel felt the heat rise to her cheeks as she jabbed him in the ribs with her elbow.

"Yeah, right," she snorted, hitching the strap of her gun higher up on her arm.

"Whatever," Hansel said, "That kid was so in love with you."

"He was not!" Gretel detested the crack in her voice as she yelled at her brother. Clearing her throat, she added, "Besides, we have more important things to worry about than puppy love."

Hansel grunted, absentmindedly stroking the delicate raised patterns decorating his gun- swirls of silver that resided on the long barrel, the trigger made of sleek brown oak. Looking around, he noticed the town was mostly empty, only a few people daring to venture out into the open.

"Why d 'you think it's so empty?" Hansel asked. Gretel shrugged.

"Well, there were reports of witches running amok here, so it's understandable, right?" Gretel said with a sigh. They were standing at the well, and it was bigger up close now that she was actually looking at it. The stones used to build it were perhaps the size of boulders, and bits of dust and gravel came away on her fingers as she touched it, the rock warm against her skin from the sun exposure.

"This could not have been made by humans," Gretel said with disbelief, clicking her tongue in disapproval.

"What do you mean?"

"These rocks are too big to have been carried by humans," Gretel pointed out.

Hansel shrugged his shoulders. He never really cared about the structure of things or how anything was made. He just cared about the money when it came to bashing in heads and burning bodies.

"Why should it matter?" Hansel said, "The fuckers probably paid off a troll or something. No big deal." Hansel shivered as a gust of chilled wind blew through the square, goosebumps prickling on his skin. Weird, he thought, looking around at the houses around them. No one else is outside…

And Hansel figured there was definitely no way it could have been the weather playing tricks on him.

"Did you just feel that random gust of cold wind?" he asked his sister. She was still staring at the stone walls of the well as if contemplating the meaning behind a piece of art.

"Are we talking the flatulence from your ass or the creepy wind that signals an ominous presence that may possibly get us killed?"

Hansel snapped his fingers, grinning as Gretel bit her lip, all the while keeping her eyes on the well. The water inside it was a dark blue, almost dirty grey as it sloshed around inside.

"That's the one," he said, adding quickly, "and at least we aren't in an enclosed area, right?" Gretel pursed her lips as she shrugged, slinging her gun over her shoulder to place her hands properly on the trigger. Hansel followed suit, holding his weapon at arm's length as the two of them spun around.

"That is very true," Gretel agreed, narrowing her eyes as she scanned the area.

No one was there.

She tried again, nodding to her brother to circle the well, back to back.

"There!"

Gretel turned to see Hansel running towards one of the houses, bullets flying from the mouth of his gun, only to be ferociously blown backward by some unseen force.

Hansel!" Gretel shouted, running towards him. There was a loud crack as he was sent flying into the well, his head connecting with the rough stones. Falling to her knees, Gretel threw her weapon down, getting her brother into a sitting position, patting him down for injuries.

Thankfully none were on his body or legs, and he was still conscious, groaning in pain as Gretel cupped his face in her hands. Brushing his hair out of his face, Gretel gently slapped Hansel's cheek.

"Hansel!" she said, her voice full of worry, "Hansel, get up!" Hansel opened his eyes in a flutter, blinking strangely at her before letting them droop shut again. Gretel shook her head, grinding her teeth as she lifted his head from against the well. At his groans, she carefully laid him down again.

Her fingers came away red.

"Shit!" she cried, jumping up and kicking the well with rage. Pain coursed through her as she stubbed her toe; however, that was the least of her problems.

"Aww, poor little girl," taunted a voice, "all alone with no one to protect you." Gretel picked up her gun, the metal cool against her fingers as she gripped it tightly. Her knuckles turned ghastly white, frightening against her bloodstained fingers.

"Stay back!" she yelled, "I'm armed!" Of course, she couldn't really tell who she was yelling at, waving her gun wildly about her, hoping to shoot something down, at least.

"What are you going to do?" the voice said, "Shoot me?" Gretel turned, the voice sounding as if it were coming from behind.

No one was there.

"What the…" Gretel trailed off, lowering her weapon.

A bad move, she realized a minute later, as she felt a sudden force grasp her by the neck, a cold feeling of fingers curling around her throat. Letting her gun hang from her shoulder, Gretel reached to claw at her attacker but swiped at empty air instead. Gasping for breath, the hunter felt herself being lifted off the ground, legs dangling idly.

As she drew in desperate thin breaths, her neck snapped forward as she was then tossed like a rag doll, feeling herself graze the legs of the well as she crashed into it. The next was the sensation of water, burning as it flowed into her already pitiful lungs.

"Hansel!" she tried, the name barely getting out as she thrashed in the water, "Hansel!"

Dots of color invaded her peripheral vision as a face came to leer down at her. From what she could see, the skin was deathly pale, offset with sunken in eyes and blackened lips. Long black hair framed her face, and the sun looked like a disfigured halo radiating from behind her skull.

"Hansel is a bit…. tied up, right now, dear," the woman teased, smiling at Gretel as she struggled to stay afloat. Her lungs felt like fire, molten lava burning in her veins.

Witches, she decided, were a bitch to deal with.

There was a loud cackle as the with went on, "Oh! But wouldn't he be so happy to join you?!"

Gretel knew she couldn't stay afloat any longer. Her arms were getting weak. Her legs were straining to the point where she thought she wold rip a muscle. It was straining to even keep her chin tilted so her head was still above the water.

But Hansel was knocked out. He was sitting slumped against the well.

And at the mercy of a witch.

"Han…..sel…." Gretel managed to make out in a plea as blackness invaded her vision. Blood pounded in her temples.

And then she let herself slip under, the cool water enveloping her, muffling her senses completely.