Elmina the Giant

chapter 0: witch mother

          From the forest came a loud wail which carried its way through the woodland to a neighboring village. The exceedingly vulgar yelps awoke the sleeping residents and compelled them to trudge through the greenery in their pajamas to investigate. They carried their oil lanterns in front of them while draped in their bedding for warmth.

Some carried sticks for weapons and used them to beat a path for the rest to follow. Their search led them to a clearing that revealed a witch's hut near the base of a gray stoned, snow-topped mountain.

It was there they discovered, in wonderment and in fright, a giant infant beside the humble shed. The giant child was naked, pink, and in lying in the fetal position on the soft earth. The villagers didn't know what to make of this and they sought answers from the witch that lived inside the hut.

The fearful villagers demanded, from a safe distance. "Come out Witch! Explain yourself! What have you done?" All the shouts drowned one another out and turned their demands into indescribable roars. This only made the witch cower in her shelter.

It was Mayor Winslow that stepped forth to remedy the situation and make sense of the matter. Winslow was a tall and handsome gentleman, with vibrant emerald eyes, thick torso, thin legs, a bald head and a marvelous red beard, which he twisted the ends of with his fingers to a curled point.

His people quieted themselves as they watched him walk, with all the confidence of a king, toward the shed. Only he had the courage to knock on the wooden door without hesitation. His hammering nearly caving in the flimsy wooden door.

"Come on out." He encouraged her, his deep voice devoid of malice and judgment. "I will make sure my people will not harm you."

The villagers were shocked at the casualness of which he spoke to the witch. Many believed the Mayor's confidence stemmed from him being one of the elders. All fear of death faded as the years went by, causing courage to take its place. However, not many people knew Winslow in great depth.

Those that truly knew Winslow were either dead or their mind had betrayed them as they aged. If his people could see into his past they would know that the witch, they hated was once his dear friend.

"How are you so sure?" The witch spat from behind the door.

"If you won't come out, I'll have to come in. Do you want that?" He gave her an ultimatum, fully aware of how much she cherished privacy.

There was a long pause before the rickety wooden door opened slowly. Winslow peered into the opening and realized that he would have to come in after her.

He paused before entering and turned to his people. "I assure you all, I will handle this."

The crowd murmured with uneasiness. "Don't go in there alone? What if something were to happen to you?" Voices shouted from the masses.

"I am in no danger. There is nothing to be afraid of." He gave them a determined look and a stiff nod before entering. He said all he could, now it was up to his people to trust in their Mayor.

Once he was out of sight the villagers gasped simultaneously in anticipation and the murmurs of worry returned once the door shut.

The shed was darker than he thought. He couldn't see her but he heard her move in the darkness. She was somewhere behind him and she sounded far away. Her steps were slow as well. He couldn't tell if her laggard movements were deliberate or due to old age.

"Are we going to talk in the dark like this, old friend?" He began, trying to lighten the mood because the tension was too thick for his liking.