Theo was crouched in the shadows of the main room of the house. The silence inside was suffocating, interrupted only by the erratic breathing of the girl's mother, who remained huddled with her daughter in the farthest corner of the room. It had been an exhausting process to convince them. Theo remembered the expression of terror and distrust on the woman's face when he and the siblings first arrived; if it hadn't been for the direct intervention of the mayor, who had to show up personally to vouch for the little girl's safety, they would never have allowed him inside. Even so, the mother looked at him as if he were just another monster the forest had spat out.
Stationed to one side of the main door, Theo sighed to himself. The wait was becoming monotonous. He glanced sideways at the boarded-up window; nothing moved outside. An intrusive thought crossed his mind: 'What if they don't come today?'. In the movie, the attack happened that night, but Theo knew better than anyone that reality didn't always follow a script. If the witches decided to delay, he would look like a paranoid fool in front of the siblings, and the small amount of trust he had worked so hard to build would crumble.
That trace of doubt dissipated when a series of muffled explosions echoed in the distance, making the window panes vibrate. Theo snapped to attention immediately, his senses sharpened by his adventurer training. He would be lying if he said a small part of him didn't feel relief; the plan was in motion and his intuition hadn't failed him.
Through the cracks in the door, he could see the Augsburg sky turning a purplish orange. The screams of the villagers and the sound of distant gunfire confirmed that Hansel and Gretel were already in position. He saw the silhouettes of the witches split up in the air. Muriel, with her cloak billowing like a raven's wing, headed toward the area where the siblings were waiting for her. Bad luck for them, Theo thought with a grimace, as he watched the ugliest witch of the three flying her broom directly toward the house he was guarding.
Theo shrugged, adjusting his grip on his weapon. At least she was the one who retained the least human trace of the three, which made the mental work a bit easier. Although he was an experienced warrior in terms of stats and skills, he still hadn't killed a human-looking being. He looked at the door and activated his Camouflage skill. His figure blurred, blending into the shadows of the wall.
Just as he expected, the entrance was not subtle. Witches, driven by an arrogance fed over centuries, loved theatricality. The door shattered into a thousand pieces after an impact of energy, and the witch entered with a sadistic smile, relishing the mother and daughter's terror. However, Theo was not one to let the villain finish their speech.
Before the witch could even utter a word or raise her wand, Theo moved. He lunged from his hiding spot with a speed the human eye could barely follow. The blade of his knife flashed for an instant before sinking deep into the creature's neck.
The witch went into shock. Her smile froze and her eyes widened immeasurably as she let out a choked gurgle. She brought her clawed hands to the wound, trying uselessly to stop the torrent of black blood gushing through her fingers. There was no chatter, no heroic struggle. Only the sound of a heavy body hitting the floor and the final rattle of a dark life extinguishing.
Theo stood over the corpse, looking at his hands for a second. He took a moment to process that he had just taken a life, even if it was that of a monster. He shook his head to snap out of the stupor and looked at the mother, who was watching him with a new kind of horror.
"I am sorry for staining your house with this blood" - Theo said in a flat voice.
Without waiting for a response, he grabbed the witch's corpse by one ankle and dragged it out of the house. He needed air and he needed to see how the situation was going on the other front.
Meanwhile, in the secluded clearing near the old cemetery, the air smelled of gunpowder and sulfur. Hansel and Gretel stood there, panting slightly, surrounded by trees splintered by black magic. Not far from them, the corpse of Muriel's second henchwoman lay motionless on the ground, with a perfect hole between her eyes that was still smoking.
The fight had begun minutes earlier when Muriel and her companion descended from the sky with an arrogance bordering on stupidity. Upon seeing the siblings, Muriel took the time to land and began to rant, using the typical speech of a villain who believes they have won. Her companion laughed beside her, enjoying the moment of superiority.
The siblings, tired of hearing the same verbiage they had heard from so many other witches over the years, did not wait. Muriel was talking about things they already knew thanks to Theo, so there was no reason to let her continue. Hansel and Gretel drew and fired almost in sync.
Muriel, who possessed a much more finely tuned survival instinct, had a bad feeling just as Hansel squeezed the trigger. Instead of trusting her magic shield—which usually deflected any projectile—she threw herself to the side in a desperate maneuver. It was her salvation. Her companion, however, maintained a look of arrogant confidence until the very last millisecond. The projectile, imbued with Mina's potion, tore through her magical defense as if it didn't exist, piercing her skull and sending her to the ground dead before her laughter could even fade.
"Where did all that confidence go?" - Hansel commented with a mocking smile as he reloaded his weapon.
This infuriated Muriel. The witch let out a scream that seemed to tear through the night and charged at them. Even though the siblings' weapons were now a real threat, Muriel used her speed and her wand to close the distance. She didn't want a long-range fight; she wanted to feel them die.
Muriel dodged a shot from the siblings and, with a fluid movement of her wand, cast a push spell that hit the huntress in the chest. Gretel went flying backward, slamming into the trunk of a thick tree. The impact was blunt, leaving her breathless and aching on the ground.
"Gretel!" - Hansel shouted, worried.
Muriel took advantage of that distraction to lunge at him. Hansel, accustomed to fighting under pressure, didn't let worry for his sister cloud his judgment. He dropped his weapon, which had run out of immediate ammunition, and pulled out his combat knife. The fight became a whirlwind of blows and slashes. Muriel was physically superior, but Hansel fought with a ferocity born of hatred and accumulated experience.
By the time Gretel managed to get up, spitting a bit of blood and catching her breath, the three of them were at a stalemate. Hansel and Muriel were grappling, and in the chaos, the weapons had been scattered across the clearing floor. They were disarmed, glaring at each other with ferocity and exhaustion.
Muriel stepped back a couple of paces, panting, with her clothes torn and a trickle of blood running down her forehead. She realized that the siblings' coordination was her biggest problem; she needed to destabilize them emotionally if she wanted to win. A cruel smile spread across her withered lips.
"Tell me... Aren't you curious?" - Muriel asked in a sibilant voice, trying to catch her breath. "Have you never wondered exactly how the villagers of this town figured out what your mother was?"
The siblings stood still, tense. Gretel, who was about to lunge again, remained motionless. Hansel clenched his fists, but didn't move. Although they knew she lied as easily as she breathed, the mention of their mother was an open wound that Muriel knew exactly how to exploit.
"For the Blood Moon ritual" - Muriel continued, moving slowly in a semicircle, her eyes fixed on Gretel's - "The heart of a grand white witch is needed. That led me to your mother, but... Your mother was powerful."
Hansel frowned. The story matched what Theo had told them, which gave Muriel's words a dangerous weight.
"She was too powerful for me to face alone. But white witches have a stupid weakness: they love humans. They have that code of not hurting 'innocents' even if it costs them their lives." - Muriel said with a mocking laugh.
Muriel took another step toward her wand, which lay on the ground a few meters away.
"So I only had to give them a little push. I convinced the villagers that she was just another witch. The rest... well, the rest they did themselves. It was fun to watch them burn her while she refused to defend herself so as not to hurt them. And your father... such a sad end on the gallows."
The siblings were immersed in the story, with pain and rage boiling in their veins. Muriel noticed how their shoulders tensed and how their expressions were lost in memory and hatred.
"But anyway, I didn't want your mother" - Muriel concluded, finally close enough to her wand, but still without trying to grab it. - "I wanted the daughter. A much easier prey. My plans were ruined when your parents made you escape, but look where we are now. Everything returns to its place."
Muriel finally lunged for her wand, certain that the siblings were too broken down to react in time. But just as her fingers were about to touch the dark wood, she saw out of the corner of her eye a silhouette that shouldn't be there.
Theo was standing at the edge of the clearing, his face expressionless and his weapon aimed directly at Muriel's head. His yellowish eyes showed no doubt as his fingers squeezed the weapon's trigger.
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I hope you enjoyed the chapter