The Witch's Tale

Hello human, my name is Holda. I am the witch in your fairytale ¨Hansel and Gretel.” I have but a short time to tell you why I crave your flesh. The saliva drips from my mouth at the thought of the taste of human flesh. Mmmm! I can smell the flesh of little John cooking now. I will tell you my story and how I became the nightmare you all know and fear. Although I was innocent long ago, I will now tell you the horror that shaped me into a witch while John´s tender flesh cooks. 

I sprang  out of bed. It was Saturday morning and my mother and I were going to the seashore. I glanced around my room seeing my toys strewn about the thick grey carpet, the walls were lined with pictures of my deceased father. I quickly looked past them and out the dirty window. I didn't want to open the old wounds of his passing.  I walked up to the grimy pane, opened it,  and stared out across the small village of Grithuel.  I could see the small huts strewn about the seashore like little sand dunes and taste the salty air. I took a deep breath smelling the scents of the sea and the woodsmoke of the village. I turned away from the window and made my way towards my mother´s room to wake her for our trip.  I looked up and down the hall  seeing three doors, one black with a gold chain hanging from the door handle, the other two simple grey doors with no adornments. I went to the door with the gold chain and knocked.

 ¨Mother!¨ I called but heard no reply. I knocked three more times hearing nothing. I cracked the door open and peered in. The bed was unmade, the blankets and pillows scattered across the carpet. The walls were covered with pictures of my father, mother and I. My gaze fell upon a portrait of my mother, and suddenly the memory of yesterday's events struck me like a sledgehammer. 

My  mother and I walked along the shore. We were looking for seashells, it was our little game to see who found the most before it grew dark.

¨I found one!¨ I called, ¨That's me 50, you 46, I am still in the lead!¨ 

¨Good job¨,  mother shouted above the crashing waves. ¨It's our best hunt yet, but it's time to head back. It's getting dark and I don't like the look of those clouds.¨

¨Alright, can we just get one more before we head in?¨

¨Oh all right I suppose one more, but hurry that storm is getting closer.¨ 

¨Woohoo!¨ I scrambled in search of my 51st seashell. ¨There is no way I will be able to get more than 51 on tomorrow's hunt!¨

I looked all over, but couldn't find any other shells. It was like a black hole had sucked them all away. I trudged up and down the sandy shore searching in the blackness trying to stay upright in the tumultuous winds.  Suddenly, I saw a tiny flash of white. I walked closer and saw a small seashell shaped like a cone. I picked it up and studied the worn grooves time had stamped into its white surface.  Pocketing it, I turned and looked around for my mother but could see nothing in the blackness.

¨I found one.¨ I shouted above the wind.

Mother appeared by the edge of the seashore.

¨Great, now let's go. We don't have much time to beat this storm.¨

I saw it then: the wave, a massive wave. It must have been nearly 50 feet high and hundreds of feet wide and it was bearing down on mother with fury.

¨MOTHER RUN QUICK!¨ I shrieked above the sound of my drumming heart.

Mother turned and stared motionless at the mouth of the wave. Slowly, much too slowly, she started to run, but it was too late. The wave struck, sweeping her up and throwing her into the sea. I saw her head bob briefly above the surface.

¨Go!¨ mother screamed as she began sinking beneath the waves.

¨MOTHER NO!¨ I screeeched, frozen with terror.

The memory faded and I was left staring at the picture I had drawn of my mother. Then the tears came. I walked out of the room and through the house to the front door in a blur. I opened it and ran across the sandy shore to where I had last seen her before the waves had swallowed her. 

Falling to my knees, I howled through my tears, ¨ WHY GOD, WHY DOES DEATH FOLLOW ME WHEREVER I GO!¨ I sobbed uncontrollably, then got up and paced feeling the hot tears stream down my face. I had lost my father, and now my mother; everything I knew was drifting away. I was broken like a snapped twig that couldn't be mended back together. I was about to sit down again when I saw the glint of a white seashell from the corner of my eye. Wiping away tears, I walked towards it, picked it up and studied it. I was about to pocket the seashell, but paused when I saw another not 5 feet away. Glancing farther, I saw a line of seashells that seemed to go on forever.  I walked along their path, picking them up as I went.  Each one was white, tarnished with age, and rough just like the first.

 Finally the line of seashells stopped and I looked up to see the mouth of a cave. I entered cautiously.  The floor was littered with bones and the walls were damp and mossy. A part of my mind knew that I shouldn't go on, but I didn't care. I had lost everything, my father and mother were gone. I felt I had nothing to lose, so I stepped further into the cave, carefully trying to avoid the bones. I looked at one and shuddered. It appeared to be a human skull polished to a gleaming white. I quickly stepped past and kept making my way down the dark damp cave. Reaching a junction in the path, I peered into the blackness on my right trying to make out any shapes but saw nothing. I glanced the other way seeing nothing there either. I made up my mind and veered to the right.  I made my way along the dark path,  tripping over what seemed to be rocks and slipping on the moss covered floor. After what seemed like hours,  I reached the mouth of a cavern and peered in. I gasped at a sight no man should ever see nor behold. In the huge space I saw torches lining the mossy walls. I looked at the floor seeing bones piled high like mounds of trash.  At the end of the room there sat a figure in a massive black chair. It was cloaked in a tattered black robe, trimmed in red and its arms were stretched outward with overgrown fingernails that appeared clawlike.  Most gruesome of all, the figure's head wasn't atop its neck but rather two heads rested on its outstretched palms.  The head in the right hand was whiter than snow and shriveled,  blood streamed from the head's mouth, ears and nose painting the head with bloody lines.  The head on the left was blacker than midnight and it appeared to be gnawing on a finger bone that slowly dripped with blood. The finger disappeared bit by bit into its mouth.  Then with a sudden flash of light, the heads opened their eyes and stared right at me.  

¨I am Mohadit.¨ said the head in the right hand, ¨Step forth human child, and I shall grant thy wildest dreams.¨

¨I am Tidahom,¨ said the head on the left hand, ¨ I am your worst nightmare I am the curse that comes with your wildest dreams. For gain cannot come without consequences and neither shall power.¨

I walked forward trembling, barely noticing that I was stepping on the bones.

¨Kneel!¨ said Mohadit ¨Now tell me your wildest dreams and hopes and I shall grant one, but know this: my brother Tidahom shall curse you.¨

I stared at him, thinking of my mother drowning at the sea. I thought of my fathers death years before.  I knew then what I would wish for. 

¨I wish to never die.¨ 

¨So be it¨ said Mohadit.

The heads began to chant in unison. ¨Death shall live in fear of thee, oh human. Ye shall be master of death.  It will run and hide when it sees you wanting nothing of your flesh and soul. Life for you shall be forever and forever, but know ye this the curse of immortality. For blood cannot come without blood and life cannot come without life. For ye shall be cursed to crave human flesh. It is your curse to forever be the death of your kind. Ye shall be known as the witch, the devourer, the flesh eater, but your life shall be without end.¨

With a flash of light the torches went out. I fell to the floor, hitting my head, and the world went black. When I awoke I was safe again in my little room. The carpet was strewn with my toys. I walked to my dirty window, opened it and took a deep breath. I smelt something so divine I could not resist it. I knew at once what it was. It was the smell of human flesh. I longed for it more than anything. I wiped the saliva from my mouth, and made my way to the closest house I could find. 

Now you know my tale.  How I became the witch in your storybooks. I once was good but that is long past. At times I tried to resist the cravings but found it impossible. My fate is sealed. I cannot tell you how good human flesh tastes to me. It is like the ambrosia of the gods. I cannot resist it. I confess, Hansel and Gretel weren't the first I tried to cook nor were they the last. They were just two in a long list of names. I have failed with some like Hansel and Gretel and others have become my supper.

 Ah, I have finished just in time and John is almost ready. Mmm! The aroma is delicious! (The trick is adding salt to the sweaty flesh, simply divine.) But pardon my manners, would you care to join me for dinner…