Page 39 of Hansel and Gerhardt (The GriMM Tales #3)

All Good Things...

I t was the cold that woke them. A light shiver from a breeze that swept over their naked skin. They opened their eyes to grey and muted light. The table—for they still lay upon a table, only this one ragged and worn—was bare. No food or crockery of any kind shielded them from exposure.

They were still in a house, of a sort, only this one made from stone and wood, not candy.

The walls were tumbled down in places, huge cracks letting in tree branches and forest light.

The ceiling was half caved in. There was no furniture save a broken chair in the corner and their table.

What once were benches were bare and degraded, and the only thing new and solid and undamaged in that room was the oven.

It was still hot.

The fire had calmed, the screams and taps had long since died away, and they might have frozen overnight if not for that warmth, wildly dispersed as it was.

For they had slept all the night through, wrapped up in one another, careless of all the horrors of the world and the Dark Forest, which they now saw came right to their door.

No carefully tended field without, no lawn, no pathway strewn with sugary cakes—Herr Candy was dead, and his magic gone with him.

They took it all in for a time, neither saying a word. Then Hansel wrapped a protective arm around Gerhardt, warming him. Gerhardt leaned into him with a laugh. “I knew it was too good to be true. That we’d be left with so much food.”

“It was nice while it lasted,” said Hansel, thinking more of licking custard off Gerhardt’s chest than all the rest of it. But that chest was now bare against the elements, and all Hansel’s worries were back at the forefront of his mind.

Survival.

Hunger gnawed at his stomach once again, and it growled in announcement of the fact.

Gerhardt’s sweet head turned. He offered up a smile, and he kissed his jaw. “We’re going to be okay, you know? I have too much to live for now to let anything happen to you.”

Despite the bleak dark of the house and the day, Hansel also smiled. “You already saved me. More times than I can count.”

“And I’m going to do it again now.”

Gerhardt slipped off the table, pulled on his lederhosen, as though it would provide any real warmth, even if he did look stupidly cute in it. Then he surprised Hansel by walking directly to the oven and snapping the door open.

A blinding hot wind escaped into the meagre shelter of the room, making them both reel back a little. But it wasn’t long before Gerhardt poked his head into the gigantic oven, reached inside, and tugged at something. Harder, harder, he tugged again, until it broke free.

Hansel jumped back, pulling his legs away just in time as Gerhardt threw down what had once been Herr Candy’s arm. It was all meat now, the skin roasted back, then sloughed off in the night. The bone was thick in the middle, the flesh dripping and yielding.

“There is meat in the forest,” said Gerhardt, “if you know where to find it.”

Hansel was slow to react. Herr Candy smelled good, and no doubt about it.

Hansel’s stomach screamed for a taste of that arm.

Gerhardt’s too-flat stomach, his pale skin, that shake about his hands that Hansel knew too well told Hansel this was the smart thing to do.

But he said, “If we eat him, doesn’t that make us just as bad as him? ”

Gerhardt gave a small shrug. “I guess that depends who else we eat.” For the sake of lightness, though only half joking, he added, “After all, there are a lot of assholes out there.”

Hansel considered a moment, staring hard at the table.

It was their starvation that had led them into this trap—their desperate and weakened state.

And how were they to fight their way through the forest like this, with no energy?

And Herr Candy was dead anyway, wasn’t he?

It wasn’t as though he’d feel anything. But caution was in Hansel’s nature.

He said, “Remember the trouble we got into when you ate the candy without thinking?”

“Sorry, what?” Gerhardt spoke his reply through a mouthful of meat.

Hansel’s own mouth dropped open. “You just ate it?”

“I’m hungry!” Gerhardt protested.

“What if it’s magical?”

“Who cares if it’s magical?”

“Gerhardt!”

“Hansel?” He grinned so sweetly over that hunk of flesh that Hansel couldn’t help himself.

He ripped a piece of meat off and it melted on his tongue, falling apart in ways he didn’t know meat could fall apart. He’d never had slow-cooked anything. It was a marvel Herr Candy could have stayed so moist overnight, but then he did take hours and hours to die.

Hansel ripped off another chunk, devouring the arm, Gerhardt smiling across at him, happy, proud to see him eating, getting strong again.

“I wanted to kill him so badly,” Hansel reflected. “More than I’ve ever wanted anything.” He looked Gerhardt over. “Except you. In that outfit.”

“Well, now he’s dead and you’ve got me,” Gerhardt replied. “I say we take as much of him as we can carry and strike north.”

Hansel chewed the meat a while longer, thinking things through. “That shed out back. Did you see what was in there?”

Gerhardt shook his head.

“Clothes. Boots. Weapons. I think it’s from all the other people who stumbled this way. All the others he killed. Who ended up in that oven.”

Gerhardt slowed his chewing. It was one thing to eat this killer who had terrorised them, who would have burned Hansel to a crisp and devoured what was left. It was another thing entirely to imagine the screams of all those innocent victims.

“I remember he said he’d never seen anything like our bond,” Gerhardt reflected. “That his magic wasn’t working on us.”

Hansel reached for his hand, pulling him in for a kiss. “It’s why I could never give up on you. I felt it. I felt you there.”

Gerhardt wrapped both arms around his neck, brought Hansel’s head to his chest, and kissed his fiery hair.

“Ours is a melding of twin souls, tempered in fire. And that’s why I’m never leaving you.

Why we’re going to that tower. Together.

Today. We need to get out of this place.

We need to find more food. And then a home of our own. ”

“A home of our own…” Hansel mused. “Food…” He stared at the oven. He chewed the meat.

“Gerhardt,” he said, after a time, “I think I have an idea of how we can get both those things. And fast.”

Hansel and Gerhardt finished their meal. They ate so much of Herr Candy that they were stuffed full, strong and warm.

They fought their way through the encroaching trees until they found the dilapidated old shed.

The belongings inside were still relatively new, having been placed there as recently as the passing of their owners.

Too recently. But in the masses of shoes and clothes, it wasn’t hard to find something that fit.

Fresh boots. Fresh tunics and cloaks. Sharp weapons. All of it symbolic to both Hansel and Gerhardt, a keepsake of the harsh lives and trying times that led each of those men, women, and children into the forest in search of a better life. A life cruelly taken too soon.

They took as much of Herr Candy as they could carry, but instead of moving north, they chose south.

They sacrificed a whole leg to the carnivorous tree, looking on the grotesque but ravenous thing a little more kindly than they had the last time.

They walked on. They fought on.

They bathed in the river in dappled sunshine. They made love amongst golden foliage.

It took three full days, but finally they strode, healthy and happy, to the door of a lonely little cottage at the edge of the woods.

Hansel reached out and tapped on the entrance three times.

The footsteps came slow, the door opened with suspicion, and the man’s dull mouth fell open at the sight of his two sons— handsome, strapping lads, armed to the teeth, and not about to put up with one second of his bullshit.

“Hello father,” said Gerhardt, raising his axe. “It’s great to be home.”

The End