Page 35 of Hansel and Gerhardt (The GriMM Tales #3)

Gerhardt was on his forearms, leaning heavily over his plate, licking up every last crumb of his golden treat.

“Gerhardt!” Hansel tried, struggling to get the word past that clamp around his neck.

“He doesn’t hear you now,” hissed Herr Candy, his forked tongue sliding between his teeth. “He doesn’t care about you.”

But still Hansel tried, rasping for him as he ripped at the other-worldly appendage, hitting it, trying to dig his nails into that impenetrable flesh. But nothing he did made the smallest difference.

Gerhardt had dropped to his knees now, sitting on the floor, eyeing the desserts from the edge of the table, waiting like a dog to be told he could eat. And Hansel was dragged, like a rag doll, around the table, his tiptoes skidding across the floor, until he was yanked eye to eye with Herr Candy.

The eyes that had mimicked a beautiful man had changed.

They grew reddened, watery. His skin aged, wrinkling deep, until it became the face of an old woman.

But just as quickly, it melted and reemerged with the fresh skin and appearance of a young girl.

Then with a grin, back to the face they’d known as Herr Candy.

His disguise, perhaps that which had been best to entice Gerhardt and Hansel into the cottage that first day, was slipping with every second.

Maybe he didn’t care enough to hold it anymore.

He could let those eyes turn milky, wobbling and bulging in their sockets.

He could let his fangs grow long, because Gerhardt wasn’t capable of noticing or caring.

Not even when Herr Candy spoke directly to him. “More fire in the oven, boy.”

Gerhardt swiped raspberry from his lips with the back of his hand and jumped to his feet. “Right, you are, Herr Candy!” He pulled the lever and ripped the oven open. Already volcanic inside, the fierce heat ripped at Hansel’s flesh. Gerhardt began piling logs in.

“I tried with you,” Herr Candy seethed. “I gave you every opportunity to improve yourself.”

“Please let him go,” Hansel begged. “I’ll do whatever you want. Whatever you needed him for.”

A deep and inhuman laugh crawled out of Herr Candy. “You were always going to do that. I just wanted a little more fat on those bones before you became dinner.”

The forked tongue crept out of his mouth, sweeping long and dripping over his lips, and the horror hit Hansel.

The shoes and the clothes in the shed. That strange pink meat on Herr Candy’s plate. The food in the forest, if only one knew where to look…

“No,” whispered Hansel, reeling back in disgust.

Herr Candy’s head twisted across to Gerhardt. “Are you hungry, dearest?”

Gerhardt slammed the oven door closed and bounced back to the table. “Starving, sir!”

“Then let’s eat…” He picked Hansel up by the throat and threw him, his back slamming down in the middle of the feast. Cakes exploded beneath him, to his left, to his right.

Jellies wobbled against him, parfaits soaked and splashed over him.

But before ever he could get his bearings, the noise of a whip sounded, and his wrist was grasped, pulled tight, and wrenched over his head, as a multi-coloured candy strap lashed around his arm to hold him immobile.

The other wrist was taken by strawberry licorice, thick, unforgiving, pulling at his skin until both arms were bound to the table.

Herr Candy slammed two hands down on his thighs with such strength that Hansel was pinned.

Gerhardt stood statue-still, staring at his stepbrother tied to the table, surrounded by desserts, struggling with everything he had in him. “Oh, Hansel. You do look delicious.”

“What?” cried Hansel, arm muscles bulging as he tugged at his sweet binds.

“Hand me a knife,” Herr Candy directed.

But oddly, Gerhardt didn’t move. He glanced at the knife block, replete with sharp steel, then back to Hansel, writhing in front of him. “You’re not going to hurt him, are you?”

“How are you still doing that?” Herr Candy yelled. “Do you want to eat or not?”

“Of course I want to eat. You made all this beautiful food…”

“Then stop being so ungrateful and give me that knife!”

“Gerhardt, no!” Hansel screamed.

“Uh…” Gerhardt’s eyes, wild with awakening fear, searched the small kitchen.

“Get it!” Herr Candy screamed at him.

Still Gerhardt hesitated until Herr Candy let out a cry of exasperation.

He let go of Hansel’s thighs just as two long ropes of green candy shot out from the floor like vines, strapping Hansel’s legs down.

He scooped up a handful of strudel, and before Gerhardt even knew what was happening, he’d shoved him back against the wall and pushed the food into his mouth.

Gerhardt seemed to fight for a moment, to try to turn his head away, but all too fast the sugar settled on his tongue, and the magic took hold. His shoulders eased, he slumped back. He let out that groan of happiness that Hansel knew too well.

Hansel threw his head back, tears rivering down his cheeks.

“The knife, Gerhardt,” said Herr Candy, the too-distinct ‘t’ of the sound stabbing into Hansel.

“Sir,” Gerhardt mumbled over his mouthful, stumbling to the bench to wrap his fingers around the biggest knife in the block.

Herr Candy’s two hands dragged over Hansel’s cheekbones, and he lowered his head to his ear. “It’s this bond you two have, you see, Hansel. This is why I have to get rid of you. You make my magic weak. I’ve never been in this situation before.”

Hansel yanked at his binds. They stretched slightly, but he knew they were never going to break. “Please let him go. Please! I’ll stay. I’ll do whatever you want.”

“I know better than to believe that,” said Herr Candy, standing, running a hand along Hansel’s arm as he moved back to the foot of the table. “They always say that.”

Hansel sat his head up, just as much as he could. “How many have there been? How can you be so cruel?”

Herr Candy laughed. “What do you think I eat out here? This?” He waved his fingers at the gorgeous candy all around.

“Magic. It’s not real. It can’t satisfy me like meat can.

It can’t keep me going. But this…” He slapped his hands down on Hansel’s large thighs.

“This will keep me fed for some time to come.” He gave them a squeeze, which made Hansel’s insides turn in on themselves.

“I would have liked to feed you, to make you bigger, meatier. But I can’t have you running off with Gerhardt. Not before he’s plump and ready, too.”

“Ready?” Hansel pulled hard at his binds. “Even after me, you’re going to eat him?”

Gerhardt stretched out an arm to hand the knife across, but he was caught at the wrist. Herr Candy pulled his body across in front of him, flush with his own, holding him at the waist, stretching his arm out long.

He dipped his head to Gerhardt’s neck and breathed him in.

A deep, hungry moan broke from Herr Candy.

“He is scrumptious, isn’t he?” He sunk dark pincers into the flesh of his naked belly.

“You’d be surprised how long I can keep one alive while I take their meat.

Weeks—months, even —if the weather isn’t too hot.

” His snake tongue flickered out, almost licking Gerhardt. “And winter’s coming.”

“Gerhardt!” Hansel cried. “Wake up! Can’t you hear him?” For Gerhardt’s eyes had returned to hazy, were drooping, a lazy smile about his lips, even as those vile fingertips scraped across his skin.

“Don’t worry,” said Herr Candy. “He won’t miss you.” He plucked the knife from Gerhardt’s fingers and spun him away, where he came to a serene stop right by the oven door.

Herr Candy toyed with the sharp tip of the knife, silver in those hard and shining fingertips. “I’m going to have to smoke you, I think. To make you last. Turn you into sausages. Which means…” He scanned Hansel’s taut body, eyes landing on his abdomen. “I’d better take the intestines first.”

“No! Let me go!” Hansel cried. Then, settling his eyes on Gerhardt, who stared straight ahead as though he didn’t even see the monster about to cut his beloved into little pieces, he screamed, “Run! Why don’t you run? Why are you just standing there?”

Herr Candy brought the ice-cold, razor-sharp blade to Hansel’s flesh.

“Because, Hansel,” Gerhardt said sweetly. “You look so tasty.” Herr Candy smiled his devilish smile, then Gerhardt added, “And like I told you, I would never let anything happen to you.”

Herr Candy’s head turned sharply, but Gerhardt had already snapped down the clasp of the oven. An explosion of fire lit Herr Candy’s face as Gerhardt threw it open. One single breath of shocked terror escaped the vile creature, and Gerhardt had shoved him into the furnace head first.

An appalling scream filled the room, but Gerhardt didn’t flinch. He picked up the man’s legs, forced him through the opening with brute strength, then slammed the door closed on his agonised wails, locking it firmly.

“Gerhardt?” Hansel gasped out.

“Hansel!” Gerhardt shouted. “Hansel, my love.” He was up and on the table, fingers and knees sinking into crushed desserts as he clambered over to straddle him.

He grasped Herr Candy’s dropped knife and sliced clean through the rainbow strap.

Another slice and the raspberry licorice was undone, and Hansel’s two arms were wrapped around him.

Fingers lost in his hair, Hansel pulled him in to kiss him. Those loving, tender fingers sank into his bare shoulders, felt them shaking, from holding himself still and controlled for so long his body couldn’t take it anymore.

Arms trembling, he leaned back and sliced through the binds that held Hansel’s legs, then Hansel pulled him in, and held Gerhardt close against his chest, stroking his hair. “It’s okay. You did it. We’re safe now. I can’t believe you did it.”