Grimm Games

Chapter 11: Big Bad Witch

The bright light in the Witch's cottage flickered ominously, casting elongated shadows that danced across the gingerbread walls.

Sonya tugged at the ropes that anchored her limbs down to the wooden table beside me, her face tense with a mix of fear and determination, mirroring my own feelings of being entangled in this malicious game.

As the timer counted down the seconds starting from ten, I quickly eyed the options.

What is the only way to get through this challenge alive?

a) Kill your opponent

b) Kill your opponent's sibling

c) Kill the Witch

d) All the above

I blurted out the first thing that came to mind, "Kill the Witch," but the timer continued.

"Letter D," Sonya shouted. "All the above."

We rapidly iterated through the remaining options.

"Kill your opponent?"

"Kill your opponent's ... sibling?" The mere thought sent a visceral chill down my spine. Could they truly be pushing us to commit such wicked acts? Inviting us to initially cooperate with our siblings, only to twist the scenario into a macabre challenge of watching them die?

It seemed disturbingly likely. After all, why not? Such a dark twist would undoubtedly send their TV ratings soaring.

The seconds continued their relentless march, and Sonya and I exchanged a telling glance. "This is a test," she suggested.

"A test?" A thought flashed in my mind. "Maybe we need to commit to one of the options."

"We have four seconds." Her eyes widened. "The Witch?"

"The Witch." I nodded, suppressing the emotional implications of our agreement.

Simultaneously we called out, "Kill the Witch!"

The timer halted with a single second to spare. The options faded, replaced by the word "Correct" above the crackling fire.

For a fleeting moment, I contemplated what might have unfolded if we'd chosen differently. Would they have held us to our choices, refusing to advance the show until we embraced the option we'd agreed upon?

The overhead lights dimmed, but the fire continued to roar, casting flickering shadows that became our sole source of illumination.

"What's happening?" I called out, straining for an explanation from the silent speakers. The eerie quiet was my only reply.

No further words materialized, and an unsettling stillness settled in the room, causing my skin to prickle.

Then, with a woosh, the fire was extinguished, plunging us into dense darkness.

I turned my head toward Sonya, but her silhouette was barely discernible in the pitch-black. Distant voices reverberated, their words unintelligible and unsettling.

The creak of the door shattered the silence, freezing me in place. I lay motionless, ears tuned in to the footsteps approaching.

Sonya stirred, her struggle against the restraints painted a vivid picture in my mind. "Who's that?" she called out. "Fuck off, will you?"

I chose to remain still, listening intently, analyzing the darkness with my ears. The footsteps were familiar, heavy, with a lopsided gait and a subtle drag of the foot.