A Simple Life
Hoang Tran
Work was not well in the past one hundred years. As science advanced and reason took grasp of Europe and America, the demands for Hansel and Gretel’s services decreased. They were now ridiculed and threatened with legal repercussions if they continued with the business of witch hunting. When the twentieth century started, Hansel and Gretel officially closed shop. Hansel was most disappointed. Gretel just shrugged. They were good at hunting witches and even better at executing the brides of the devils. On the occasions when Gretel allowed Hansel to drink with her, he would reminisce about their adventures during the Inquisition or laugh at the amateurs of the Salem Witch fiasco. He was embarrassed at those unproven witch hunters who killed so many innocents. They didn’t have the hundreds of years of experience like Hansel and Gretel.
“They tarnished the witch hunting profession,” Hansel would say after drinking one too many ale, “Remember how we did it, sis?”
“Yes”
“We wouldn’t use that stupid…what was that stupid method they use?”
“Weighing the witches against a feather.”
“Yes! Weighing witches. As if their powers are hidden in their weight. Rubbish! And besides, we used real angel feathers.”
After closing shop in Germany, the siblings looked for new means of employment. Hansel suggested working in South Africa, where witches were still widespread but Gretel said they were no real threat. Then he suggested working as exorcists, but Gretel said it was too messy.
“What about hunting those voodoo doctors in America? They’re still witches right?”
“Yes. But they’re still people and hunting people is against the law now.”
Gretel then suggested that they live a normal, simple life. She was tired of the mess, the blood, and the encounters with the demons.
“The stress ruins my complexion.”
At a crux in their immortal life, the siblings decided to leave Germany and headed to New York. They were rich but the money dwindled quickly as Hansel, without a purpose, took to drinking and women. Much to Gretel’s ire, they took the odd jobs to support themselves, moving from a mansion to a small house then to a large apartment, and, eventually, to a tiny two bedroom apartment atop a bowling alley in New York City.
Hansel enlisted in the army during the two World Wars, telling Gretel that he felt compelled to combat oppressors of freedom. Secretly, he hoped to find witches. He fought in Normandy, violated Germany, liberated the concentration camps, and punched a statue of Hitler in the face. But he did not find any witches.
They had to adjust to technology, civil moments, social unrest, hippies (which Hansel though were witches until Gretel slapped him), and pop music. Gretel adjusted very easily to the new life. She enjoyed the new privileges women had in the modern society. She started many relationships, but due to her lasting youth, they were never permanent.
“I hate being immortal and always young. Why can’t I grow old with my beloved?”
Hansel just shook his head and drank from his ale.
Eventually, the siblings became accustomed to their rudimentary lives. Gretel moved out with her current boyfriend, a chemist. Hansel went to college to get a degree in engineering. He dropped the major because it was too difficult and became an accountant instead.
He joined a local witch hunting club which constituted of them reminiscing about busting teenagers who got high. However, they looked to Hansel as a hero, even though none of them believed his stories of fighting Grigori Rasputin or Baba Yaga.
Hansel never told Gretel about the club, partially because he was embarrassed and partially because she would yell at him. Regardless, he continued to go out of boredom.
Gretel moved back in after she discovered that chemistry was much like alchemy, which was similar to sorcery. She set up a shop, selling witch trinkets and books on witchcraft. When Hansel asked why she opened a place endorsing witches, Gretel told him that it made her laugh. Then she told him to shut up.
As the new millennium approached, the witch-hunting club became restless. They were eager to see witches, believing that once the clock hits midnight, the gates of Hell will open. Their enthusiasm consumed everyone, including Hansel.
He decided to gather his tools in preparation.
“In order to be a proper witch hunter, we need proper supplies.”
With a few short words, Hansel convinced Rob, a very wealthy and gullible member of the club, to finance Hansel’s trips. He traveled to the lost continent of Atlantis and visited Michael, the archangel, who was now living with Eve, the first mother.
“What do you want, Hansel?” Michael asked.
“The new millennium is coming, Mike.”
“Don’t call me that.”
“You don’t care about the new millennium?”
“Should I?”
“Well, can I have some of your feathers?
After several hours of cajoling Michael and bribing Eve with chocolate, Hansel was finally given four feathers from the angel’s wings. He then went to Jerusalem and traded a lock of hair from an elf maiden for a vial of tears shed by Gabriel. Afterwards, he took a trip to Rome and borrowed Raguel’s spear. And finally, he went to Iceland and battled a dragon, killing it for its fire glands.
He returned on the morning of New Years’ Eve, excited for the first time in a century. He told Gretel of his plans.
“You watch. We’ll be needed when Lucifer and his whores open the gates and rape and pillage. We’ll be heroes again.”
“We?”
“You’re not going to join me?”
“I can’t. I have to go to a party.”
They exchanged words and Hansel was kicked out of his apartment. He decided to stay with Rob until after New Years, when Gretel would be calm and reasonable. Women.
Rob was bewildered and amazed by all the things he brought back, touching it, scrutinizing it.
“Be careful with the spear. It can cut through atoms! And don’t touch the fire glands. They may be dry, but if you press hard on them, they’ll burn the place down.”
Hours before midnight, they gathered on the roof. It was a calm night, full of the friction of a year ending. Hansel polished his shoes, his silver spikes, his cross, his bible in preparation.
“Anybody else coming?”
“There should be a large group.”
Two members of the club showed up and then promptly left. No one else came. Hansel didn’t mind. He was not used to large crowds when doing business.
An hour before midnight. He opened his duffel bag, and pulled out the four feathers.
“What are they for?”
“You’ll see.”
Hansel set them on the ground, blessed them, and then lined them according to the cardinal directions. Then he waited.
Forty minutes. Thirty minutes. Twenty. Ten. Five. Midnight. Happy New Years. Nothing. Five minutes passed. Then ten. Then twenty. Thirty. Rob looked at his watch.
“Maybe they have trouble opening the gates?”
An hour passed. Then two. Rob fell asleep. Hansel grumbled. Then the feather facing west twitched. It trembled. Then it floated, dancing in the air. Rob stared.
“Come along, it’ll lead us.”
Hansel grabbed the feather as it guided them out the apartment and westward to an apartment in Brooklyn. They entered the lobby but Rob was too afraid to go further. Hansel smirked. Amateurs.
He climbed the stairs until he reached the door to the roof. The feather dissolved in his hands. Clenching the spear, he opened the door as quietly as possible. It creaked loudly. He grimaced and, with a shrug, lunged through to door, spear thrusting in the air.
“Vile witch! Have at thee!”
Nobody. Hansel looked around furiously, suspicious. Nobody. He screamed, throwing the spear down. What a fool he was. In a black depression and too embarrassed to return to Rob, he took out his cell phone to call his sister. As he does, he noticed a bundled wrapped in a blanket on a corner. Hansel inspected it. Then he vomited.
A laugh teased him as he purged his stomach. Hansel looked up to the laughter. His heart broke.
Gretel stood before him, her hands covered in blood. She held the spear.
“I never thought you’ll actually go witch hunting like an idiot on New Years.”
“Gretel? What are you doing?”
“How did you think we’ve lasted so long, dummy?”
“I thought it was the food the witch forced us to eat…”
“Idiot.”
“But why?”
“To keep us alive.”
She pointed the spear at him.
“But you had to screw it all up.”
She stabbed him, piercing his lung. He threw the vial of tears on her, scolding her face. The he rubbed the fire glands, causing a stream of fire to engulf Gretel. She shrugged it off.
“Bastard! Why did you have to do this? Life was getting simple now!”
Hansel coughed blood as Gretel’s face melted. She pulled the spear from his chest and raised it, aiming for his heart. He closed his eyes as a bullet ripped through the air. Hansel saw Gretel’s head explode from one side. Then her lifeless body fell beside him. Rob stood before him, holding a gun. He dropped the gun, trembling.
“You brought a gun?” Hansel asked.
“It worked, didn’t it?”
The last thing Hansel remembered, before passing out, was Rob calling the paramedics.
He woke up with a portion of his lung missing. Hansel was exonerated from any crimes because the blood from the bundle matched the blood on Gretel. After recovery, Rob visited Hansel. He had a gift for Hansel: the spear, empty vial, and withered dragon glands. The witch hunter examined it and handed them back to Rob.
“No more hunting. I just want a simple life now.”
