Gingerbread House

Chapter Fifteen: Horror

"I-I'm fine! I don't need you to feed me anymore!" The child cried out, pulling his head away from the offered spoonful of food.

The parasite sighed some, lowering the spoon. He then gave the child a pleading look. He just didn't want them to strain themselves, they were still fragile in his mind.

Jam winced at the look, glancing away from him. They don't know why, but whenever the older monster gave them that look, they just... Their resistance faltered... They didn't like it.

"Jammy, you're still weak... Just let me feed you." Fresh whispered softly, reaching out to touch the younger.

PJ flinched away from the hand that had possibly killed thousands of people. He didn't want to be touched by those hands, not when in truth he was still powerless to really do anything.

The witch sighed some, pulling his hand away. Had they really regressed back to flinching and trying pulling away at said touch?

"PJ, just eat... It'll help you gain your strength faster." He mumbled.

The ink skeleton refused, shaking his head. They were only powerless to him, only weak compared to the witch.

"I'm fine... I just want to read." The child murmured.

The demented creature sighed heavily, but nodded. He stood up before leaving the younger alone in their room. He stopped at the stairs though.

"Do you want me to grab a book from the Training Room?" His eyes looked sad, no longer bothering to hide them. Why would he when Paperjam couldn't leave him?

The tween sighed some, nodding. It was better than doing nothing. At least he could study up on some random bits of magic.

The pale skeleton was gone for a few minutes, before coming back with a very old book. The leathery spine was worn down and looked to only be held together by a few strands of glue and papers. That book wasn't part of the Training Room library.

"I figured you'd want to learn some basic magic. This is the oldest grimoire that I have." The wicked monster hummed out, gently placing it on the child's bed.

Jam gingerly touched the cover, feeling how smooth it was from use. Was it from Mr. Fresh's personal books?

"Who... Who did it originally belong to?" The every-so changing eyes looked up to the monster, confusion in them. "Th-This seems important to you..."

Fresh gave a small smile, looking down to the book.

"It belonged to my Aunt... Unlike the rest of my family... She was a good witch, one of the Founders, you could say..." The small smile fell some, a sad darkness forming in his eyes. "She was burned in the trials."

Jam frowned deeply. The trials? Did Mr. Fresh mean the Witch trials?

"How... How old are you?" The two monsters stared at each other for a moment, Fresh looking almost uncomfortable.

The parasite looked away with a deep sigh. He had kept some track of age, but he didn't really like to remember the time when he was younger.

"Very old." He murmured, moving to leave.

Shakily, but quickly, PJ stopped him. He could see how the monster was reacting to the topic, which only made him want to know about it more. What was so important about his Aunt that was making him act like that? How old was he that it had this effect on him?

The witch looked down at the hand, frowning. He couldn't help but question why the child was suddenly so interested in him. Did they really want know his horror or were they planning on using that to hurt him?

"P-Please? I-I wa-want to know..." Naturally the child began to use puppy eyes, eyes that the monster couldn't say no to.

Sighing heavily, he nodded and sat down on the bed. Maybe if he told them, they would stay? Yeah, that could work.

"Fine... I'm roughly 340 years old... I was ten when my Aunt was burned for being a witch." He looked down, his attention was on the book. He seemed to have care about her very much. "Unlike the rest of my family, she was a good witch... She had rules that she followed very strictly for herself, but..." The monster smiled some, his eyes softening. "But she was a bit more relaxed and lenient with everyone else. She didn't really care what type of magic anyone was practicing, as long as it wasn't killing anyone."

Jam carefully moved closer to the other, listening to him. His voice was strained and soft, so full of care and compassion for the woman. She sounded nice, much different from him.

"You... You said she was a good witch in your family... Why..." The child stopped, looking down. The subject was already a hard one, was really asking about his kidnapper's family a good idea?

"Our grimoire goes back for two centuries, its filled with the nasty, devastating spells any witch or warlock could have. For generations, we preserved it and added to it. And for generations, my family was trained for the dark arts, to truly be wicked." Fresh sighed some, gently sliding the book over to him. "She was the first good witch in our family in a long time... They never told me how she became good as she had the scars from being bad..."

PJ tilted his head, listening deeply, yet he was confused. Scars?

The parasite sighed some, biting his lip before touching his eye. The one with the soul in it.

"Doing certain spells, no matter if its for good or bad, comes with a price. Dark spells and twisted intentions usually come with a bigger price than those meant for good or bearing sweet intentions..."

Shakily the child reached out, grazing his fingers against their eye. It felt smooth, but it also felt weird... Like it was pulsing with magic, strong magic.

"Did... Did it ruin your soul?" The question barely made it passed the ink skeleton's lips, but it was clear in the room.

Fresh's glowing eyes looked down to the child, his eyes deep with age and pain.

"Yes... That's why I keep the dangerous spells away from you, but..." He refocused his eyes to the book. "She never put anything too dangerous in here... Only spells to heal and protect... Nothing that would damage you or your soul."

The parasite finally moved away from the younger, his hand slowly leaving the leather of the book. With a soft, almost depressed smile, he left the basement once more.

Paperjam couldn't stop frowning before he looked to the beaten book. She sounded special to him. She also sounded more important than he was letting on...

PJ shook his head. Now wasn't the time to question the witch. They at least gave him some more details on their life and a new magically book. He should just read it and learn all that he could. It could help him in a way.