Bookview Valley 4

Chapter Twenty: The First

June 16th, Sunday 8pm

The doorknob is butterscotch. I can't help, but lick my fingers after I've opened the front door. The inside of the cottage is dark besides a lit fireplace. My eyes trail over the fire, it's a real fire and definitely not candy. If I know my fairy-tale stories, then that's where Hansel and Gretel will be cooked. I mean there are some where they're cooked in a large oven, so I could be wrong. I wonder which story version the Crimson Skeleton chose. Probably the worst one.

The first room is the living room, with the fireplace. The couch is a giant, stretched marshmallow. The whole room is filled with furniture made of the most delicious treats; I ignore them. I enter through another room to find a bedroom; all candy, but no people. Where's the witch?

Eventually, I find the kitchen. It's pretty empty too. Was this cottage just a distraction? Are none of my friends actually in here? Am I wasting time? Then I hear a crash.

Spinning around, I see an open door that wasn't there before. I find myself standing before a very long, dark staircase. It leads into the basement, of course. When will a scary stairwell not lead into a basement? Sighing, I begin the trek downwards.

The stairs lead out into a pretty big, grey room. Not candy. A single bulb lights up the space, and a single figure stands underneath it. Her eyes are yellow and wide, her smile is full of chipped, rotted teeth.

"There you are," She says, her grey hair a mess of tangles, "I've been waiting for you."

"Are any of my friends here?" I cut to the chase, ignoring her scratchy, old lady voice. She definitely sounds like a witch.

"Your friends?"  She cackles, beginning to move closer to me, "You don't have any friends."

"Rude," I cross my arms over my chest, "Come on, old hag. Where are they?"

"Old hag," She places a hand and looks genuinely upset, "You wound me with your words, and here I thought maybe, I was your only friend."

"You just said I don't have any friends," I resist the urge to groan in annoyance.

"But we could be friends," Her smile comes back, showing off each tooth that still remains, "Don't you remember, I was one of your first friends."

"What are you talking about?" My nose scrunches up with confusion. What is going on here?

"When all your other friends died..."The witch trails off, a distant look in her eyes, "You needed my help."

"I think I would've remem-" I cut myself off as her brown eyes stare into mine, a sort of familiarity washes over me, "Wait."

The witch cackles again, "You recognize me."

I take in her ragged appearance. Her grey hair leads up to blonde roots, her filthy clothes were once vibrant with color. Her nose is small and cute, and her lips are a bright pink. My breath catches.

"What did she do to you?" I ponder, walking closer to my friend, "What happened?"

"This is the first test," The witch informs me, "To save me, you mustn't kill me, but I am not willing to be saved."

"What?" More confusion, "Just come back upstairs with me."

"You have to beat me first," The witch cackles.

"Beat you? Don't you want to be saved?"

"I am not myself, nowadays," The witch sighs, her pink nails beginning to grow into claws, "I am but a memory of myself."

Here I thought my friends were going to be Hansel and Gretel in this story, but never did I think one of them would be the witch. I have to fight this story's villain, but I can't kill her, because she's my friend.

"Bri, please," I beg, walking towards her, ignoring the growing nails, "We don't have to fight."

"To fight for me, you must fight me," The witch says, her voice sounding more like Bri in this moment. Then she fully transforms, her nails become razor sharp claws, her back hunches as she grows taller, and her face stretches. Her teeth grow into sharp points, her brown eyes furious.

"How do I do this without hurting you?"

"Find my so-" But she cuts herself off with a roar, as the beast is released. I turn on my heel and run back up the stairs. The thunderous crashes behind me let me know she's given chase. Find her what? There must be something upstairs that can help me. I don't want to hurt her. I have to save her.

I skid to a stop, back in the kitchen. My eyes search around frantically. Seeing nothing out of the ordinary, I race into another room. Another bedroom. All candy. What am I looking for? I hear the thudding footsteps get closer. Not here. I race through a candy cane hall, and into a bathroom. White chocolate mostly, but nothing out of the ordinary. Then, I remember. The only thing in here that wasn't candy was the fire. Turning around, I see Bri's beastly form stomping towards me. She's pretty slow, so I should have time to get back to the living room. Rushing towards her, I slide under her and between her legs. She lets out a grunt, but I don't turn around. Trailing back the way I came, I emerge into the kitchen once more.

Heading through the archway, I find myself back in the living room, but Bri isn't too far behind. Drool has begun to pool from her gaping mouth. She looks trollish in the firelight. She's going to hate when I refuse to let her live this down. I kind of wish I had my phone on me; I would so snap a picture.

She roars, seeming to have read my thoughts. I shoot her an apology in my mind, before turning to the burning fire. It's orange glow pretends to offer warmth. Standing in front of it, I glance behind me and see Bri slowly getting closer. Turning back to the fire, I look in it and see something glowing at the bottom. All the way, wedged between the wood, is a small teardrop of glowing essence. I frantically look around for something to put the fire out, but I don't anything. I should've brought a glass of water from the kitchen. Glancing again at Bri, I know I don't have enough time; that and she's blocking the way back to the kitchen.

Fear pools into my stomach as I realize there's only one thing I can do. My eyes well with tears at the thought. Facing Bri once more, I say, "I love you enough to do this, and I hope it saves you." She stops in her place as I turn back to the fire. With a deep breath, I stick my hand in.