The silence that followed Theo's departure from the tavern room was dense, broken only by the crackling of logs in the small fireplace and the distant sound of drunken laughter drifting up from the ground floor. Hansel remained leaning against the window frame, staring out into the darkness where the silhouettes of the pines swayed like black fingers against the starry sky. His fingers drummed rhythmically against the leather of his holster.
"Do you think it's true?" - Hansel asked finally, breaking the silence without looking away from the forest. - "Do you think that kid really knows what he's talking about?"
Gretel was sitting on the edge of the bed, untying one of the straps of her reinforced boot. She paused for a moment, reflecting.
"I didn't feel like he was lying, Hansel" - she responded in a steady voice. - "We've been at this for years. We've seen scammers, madmen, and cowards of every kind. Theo... doesn't fit into any of those categories. His eyes didn't waver when he spoke of the ritual, nor when he mentioned the children."
Hansel let out a heavy sigh and turned toward her, crossing his arms over his chest.
"It's hard to swallow, Gretel. A Grand Witch organizing a ritual to become immune to fire and regain a human appearance... If they're already hard to kill while being vulnerable to flames, removing that weakness would turn them into gods. And then there's that nonsense about the 'White Witch'."
"That's what disturbs me the most" - Gretel admitted, furrowing her brow. - "Where did he get that information? He didn't say a word about his sources."
"My guess" - Hansel intervened, narrowing his eyes - "is that maybe he found a witch and squeezed the information out of her before killing her. Or maybe in some... darker way" - Hansel said; he didn't want to think it, but it wasn't uncommon to find a human cooperating with a witch, though they would usually notice, as most who do so are forced, but there are always exceptions.
Gretel nodded. Theo's presence was an enigma. He didn't give off the stench of black magic from the witches, but he didn't feel like a common villager either. He had the aura of a predator who had decided, for the moment, to be civilized.
"At least now we know the children are alive" - Gretel continued. - "That changes our priorities. We don't just have to hunt that grand witch, but also prevent them from getting the last child. And we have to find out where the other eleven are hidden."
"And find this supposed 'Grand White Witch'." - Hansel added with a doubtful grimace. - "Though I doubt such a thing exists. We've seen dozens of witches, Gretel. From those who live in the sewers to those who hide in palaces. They all had rotten souls. The only good witch is the one who isn't breathing."
Gretel remained silent. Her eyes reflected a doubt she didn't want to admit out loud. Hearing that "good" witches existed had stirred something inside her, a dangerous curiosity. But, looking at her brother and remembering the scars they both carried, that doubt was buried under years of training and hatred.
They decided to split their tasks to make the most of the last hours before dawn. Hansel stayed in the room, disassembling and fixing his weapons with almost obsessive meticulousness. The metal of his mechanical crossbow gleamed under the candlelight as he adjusted the string tension. Gretel, for her part, decided to go find out who the last missing child of the month was. She went out in search of the mayor to get the birth records. Unfortunately, she discovered they were at the sheriff's station, so she had to go there—not without taking the mayor with her, after all, she knew the sheriff would cause trouble and they didn't have time for that.
The next morning, the air was heavy with a grayish mist that clung to the tree trunks. Augsburg woke up with a sense of foreboding. The siblings were already ready. Each carried a bag with supplies, sugar potions for Hansel's diabetes, and a selection of weapons ranging from silver daggers to explosive bolts.
Jackson was waiting for them at the town exit, leaning on a gnarled wooden staff. He was a bit surprised when they handed him a revolver and a long knife.
"In case things get ugly, old man" - Hansel told him with a pat on the shoulder.
"I know the way to the old cabin" - Jackson said, nodding seriously. - "But it's not a place people go for pleasure."
The trio set off. Hansel and Gretel didn't mention Theo's absence, though both scanned the surroundings frequently. They brushed it off; if the boy was as good as he seemed to be, he would appear when he wanted to. The path was long, winding between twisted roots and thorny bushes that seemed to want to hold them back.
After a couple of hours of walking, the forest opened up slightly to reveal a clearing that time and weeds had tried to devour. In the center stood a structure that made the siblings' hearts skip a violent beat.
It was a wooden cabin, now covered in moss and with its roof partially collapsed, but its silhouette was unmistakable. The broken windows looked like empty eyes watching them from the past. Hansel and Gretel stood frozen, the air catching in their throats as blurred memories of fire, screams, and the scent of gingerbread fought to surface.
"I see you've arrived" - a voice broke the trance.
Theo appeared from behind a thick tree, a few meters from the cabin entrance. He looked relaxed, his dark trench coat fluttering slightly. In an instant, both Hansel and Gretel were already pointing their weapons at him, fingers on the triggers and faces tense with adrenaline. The surprise of his appearance, added to the emotional impact of the house, had pushed them to the limit.
"Easy, easy" - Theo said, raising his hands in a nonchalant gesture, though he kept his guard up for anything. - "It's just me."
The siblings looked at him with palpable distrust. Normally, they had the absolute certainty that they could defeat any human in a direct confrontation, but Theo emanated a different energy. His posture wasn't that of someone scared of weapons, but of someone who was measuring the situation with an irritating calmness.
"You've been following us" - Hansel growled, lowering his weapon only a few centimeters. - "We didn't see you the whole way."
"I did a reconnaissance" - Theo responded, ignoring the hostile tone. - 'I went ahead to make sure Muriel or her followers weren't waiting for you in the surrounding area. For now, the area is clear."
Theo didn't lie. He had used Enemy Detection and Stalking to circle the cabin several times before they arrived. His intention was to secure the place, but also to find a moment for Gretel to discover the truth about her nature in a "controlled" environment, though he knew that was almost impossible with the siblings so nervous.
"Reconnaissance?" - Gretel looked at him with skepticism. - "Seriously?"
"Let's just say I prefer to know where I'm stepping before they cut my feet off" - Theo replied, pointing to the cabin. - "Shall we go in?"
Hansel looked at the structure and then at Gretel. A tide of conflicting feelings crossed their faces: pain, anger, fear, and an agonizing curiosity. They nodded almost in unison. Jackson, for his part, frowned, feeling the situation slipping out of his hands.
"Jackson, stay outside and stay alert" - Hansel ordered.
The old guide nodded, visibly relieved not to have to enter that cursed house.
Theo was the first to cross the threshold. The interior smelled of rotten wood, dust, and stagnant memories. The floor creaked under his leather boots. Upon reaching the center of the room, his adventurer eyes quickly caught the details: the spot where the hiding place under the floorboards should be, the layout of the kitchen... everything fit the sanctuary of a white witch protecting her children.
The twins entered after him. Their steps were hesitant. Hansel was breathing erratically, looking at the charred beams. Gretel was hugging herself, her eyes roaming the walls as if searching for ghosts. After a few seconds of oppressive silence, the emotional impact transformed into a spark of violent suspicion.
Clack.
The sound of weapon safeties echoed in the small room. Theo turned to find himself, once again, facing the barrel of a gun and a crossbow aimed directly at his chest. Hansel had a murderous look, while Gretel's was of a cutting coldness.
"Is this a joke to you?" - Gretel asked, her voice trembling with rage. - "Before coming in, I already felt this place was familiar. Now that I'm here, I'm sure. This was our house."
"Tell me who you are" - Hansel demanded, taking a step forward with his finger tense on the trigger of his crossbow. - "Are you a mercenary? An assassin? Or a follower of the witches? How did you know about this place?"
Theo made a face of discomfort, feeling the weight of the situation. It wasn't the same to see the scene on a screen as it was to be in the center of a dilapidated room with two traumatized witch hunters ready to blow your head off. He knew he had to choose his words with surgical precision if he wanted them not to fire.
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I hope you enjoyed the chapter