Gretel & Hansel Part 3

The witch smiled at me, as if reading my thought.  The bony finger painted a complex pattern in the air and my knees buckled as if someone had sliced the tendons in my legs, as father used to hobble the pig he kept by the back porch.  I opened my mouth to protest but could make no sound, not even a whimper of fear as she took a few steps nearer.  Blue eyes, cold and clear as glass, peered into mine and I heard her voice in my head, although her bloodless lips did not move.

‘Oh, no, deary.  That’s not the way to catch me.  You have a lot to learn.’

She turned and beckoned to Hansel who came slowly at her bidding, sleepwalking his way across the clearing, heedless of danger.  I wanted to cry out:
‘Run!’
But no words would come.

The witch bent and held out her one good arm.  Hansel hopped into her embrace and nestled there like a sparrow in its nest.

‘So, you are hungry, my precious.  I can see you need feeding up.  What would you like to eat the most?  Tell me, my lovely, and you shall have it.  I promise.’

Hansel’s eyes grew round so they looked almost comical, like the coal black eyes of the snowmen we made in the long winter months.  His mouth, too, shaped into an ‘O’, making the hollows in his cheeks puff out so that he looked plump and well-fed.  The witch stroked his head and bent nearer, the breath from her words ruffling his curls as she spoke.

‘Anything, my precious.  You can have anything your heart desires.’

‘Roast chicken and potatoes and a gallon of gravy.’

The words came in a rush, tumbling out of his mouth like vomit.  I swallowed bile and tried again to shout a warning but could make no sound.  Even my breath felt stilled in my chest as if I were under water, with no air to keep me alive.

The witch chuckled.

‘Roast chicken and potatoes and a gallon of gravy.  It is there on my table.  Can’t you smell it?’

Hansel lifted his head and sniffed.  He nodded.

‘It smells wonderful.’

‘Of course it does.  It’s just what a hungry lad needs, to make him big and strong.  Come into my cottage and you shall eat your fill, my precious.’
​
She released him and he ran towards the cottage door.  I tried again to call out a warning but the witch had stolen my voice.  The sky grew sullen and heavy, as if a storm was gathering, and the blue smoke from the chimney turned black.  I watched, helpless, as Hansel disappeared inside, the scent of burnt bread and rotten potatoes flavouring the air with a sickly stench.