Gretel after Hansel

Prologue

It felt as though eyes were upon her. Dozens of eyes watching her movements through her halls. She knew what they watched for. Their stares were deserved. She didn't mind them. It wasn't hard to ignore the eyes as they bore through her skull with hatred. It was her fault they watched ceaselessly, anyway. Her fault that they were there in the first place. She was the one who lured them. Smiled as the shock hit their wretched faces.

One could call her malevolent. But the face of her brother is painted in her mind when she sleeps. His face frozen, wrought with horror and disgust. Gnarled and wicked, the finger brushing a cold tear from his sweet face. She can Never forgive the people who took him from her. She ignores the comments saying she is cold and heartless, living in a home much too large for only one. Her cause is Just but no one can know what she does. They'd call her mad. And that just wouldn't do.

Tonight, she waits for another. A wretch. A knock can be heard through the halls from the front steps. Having herself made up to be presentable, she walks back into her study to wait for the poor Witch whose story ends tonight. The quiet thumps of heels against carpet can be heard approaching her door. The crackle of the large fireplace is the only other sound.
"Come in," she answers to a rapping against her door.

Her servant opens the door and a woman walks in. Beautiful to a naked eye, she stands, smiling with her hands gloved and folded. A nod. The door shuts and our mistress remains, gesturing to a seat across her desk.

"Why, thank you." The words are slick with honey. "I imagine you know why I'm here."

"Of course. I have a sample for you." Our mistress rises from her seat while pulling open a drawer. She pulls out a small bag that rattles when it swings and you can see the woman-the Ugly Witch(though when she changed, I can't say)-salivates at the sound. Her eyes are lifeless, her face wrinkled and sickly as she smiles cruelly.

"Where is my payment?"

The witch twitches and brings out a paper that reeks of carion and sweets. "Ten namessss. Like you assssked." Her voice hisses out, spittle spraying through her teeth. Her eyes plead for the bag, the smell causing her to drool and whine. She wrings her hands, pulling the gloves off to reveal her too-long fingers with dark, brittle, and dirty nails. Though she may have been beautiful once upon a time, she is no longer. All beauty was pulled from her when her teeth tore through the tender flesh of toddlers for the first time.

Our mistress takes the list as she swings the bag around her finger. Reading the list carefully, she takes the piece of paper to a book on one of her shelves and compares it to a page. She places the paper within the pages and sets the book back onto the shelf with a nod. She walks over to the Witch.

"You've done well. I thank you for your business," she smiles sweetly and places a hand on her bony shoulder. The witch shivers, moaning as she smells the hand on her shoulder. A long tongue snakes from her mouth as attempts to merely taste the bone dust on her fingers. "It's a shame this will be the last business we have."

Surprise opens the witch's eyes as she feels the cold cut of a dagger phases through her throat. Dark ichor spills from the witch's lips and neck.

"I do thank you. You've confirmed 3 for me. Finding your covens is getting more and more difficult as they dwindle." She checks the tip of her dagger and sits on her desk, smiling sweetly. "You witches are crafty. Pun not intended."

The witch falls forward and claws at the hem of her skirt. Her eyes glow red hot, fear and hate filling what's left of her soul. "Y ou... bi t ch...." she rasps out, spraying saliva and blood on the blue cotton. The smile grows.

"If you beg me, I might spare you." She picks up a jar and waves it in front of the witch. The witch's eyes widen and she reaches up.

"P... leassssssse..."

Looking away from the jar, Greta stoops down in front of the witch and disgust curls her lips.

"My brother said please. Screamed it. You can do better than that."

"PLEASSSSE.." the witch coughs, black gushing from her neck.

"You must not want it enough."

Greta stands. She walks behind her desk, places the jar and bag back into the drawer. Her footfall is near silent as she walks back to the front of the desk and leans against it. She watches as pure hate fills the eyes of the bleeding witch on the floor.

"I'll.... Ssssssssssee you in hell..." the wretch spits out.

"As long as you'll be there." Greta smiles as the last gurgling breath escapes her wrinkled lips.

After ensuring she was dead, Greta wraps the witch up in the rug her lifeless body lays on. She rings a bell and two servants come in and take it out and down to the basement where a large furnace roars with new fuel.

It felt as though eyes were upon her. Dozens of eyes watching her movements through her halls. She knew what they watched for.

She smiles.