Hans and Greta by Elizabeth Alsobrooks

Ever wonder what really happened to Hansel & Gretel. Find out . . . if you dare. Here's a sample of Hans and Greta, a horror short appearing soon in Tell-Tale Publishing's 3rd Annual Horror Anthology. Are you getting chills yet? I am . . . from excitement! I love October and all its fun Spooktacular events!

She snatched the puppet by the arm and jerked the stiletto from its grasp.  “Knock it off, Mother. You deserved it, you know you did. Did you think you could make me live like your slave forever? You told me if I helped you kill your husband I would finally get to live as your daughter.”

           “How dare you lecture me?” the puppet snarled. “What kind of DAUGHTER kills her own mother? I was working on it. You know I was. I bought us a chalet in France. The passports were being created. We could have lived there under new names and you could have gotten a rich husband of your own.”

           “Shut up, Mother. You know you would never have left. You only cared about yourself, your prestige, your charity functions. What a joke. You didn’t give a damn about any of those people your charities were helping. You used to call orphans useless brats, a suck on humanity. Yet you treated your own daughter as though you were ashamed of her. Was it my fault you were raped and your parents threw you out onto the streets once it became apparent that you were pregnant?”

           “Did I abort you? Did I abandon you? No! I have always taken care of you, and this is the thanks I got?”

“I’m sorry, okay?  I was angry. You kept putting me off until I no longer believed you.”

The puppet jerked her hand away and ran over to the dresser. Its movements were awkward and disjointed, limbs jerking as though seized and released. Clearly it wasn’t used to pulling its own strings. It pressed a button and a secret drawer opened on the bottom of a jewelry box from which she extracted a key. Running to the closet, the jerky movement more pronounced when hurrying, it threw open the door and hurried to the back. Prying up a floorboard, it reached in and took out a book. The key fit snugly into the lock and the puppet opened it, flipping through until it found what it sought.

“Yes, yes, I thought I remembered this. Kill the girl first. I can use this spell to switch bodies and we can burn this puppet in the furnace after she’s trapped inside. Then I’ll inherit the estate again, after I kill the boy, and we can finally move to France, but this time as sisters. We can both get rich husbands, not that we’ll need them.”

“If I help you again, do you promise to do it this time, Mother?”

“How can you doubt me? Haven’t I gotten us this far, despite your screwups? My husband would have survived that car crash if I hadn’t given him that injection and left him in the ruination of his precious sports car for the authorities to find him.”

Would you like to read more? For those of you who aren't faint-hearted, read the entire tale on my website at: www.elizabethalsobrooks.com/blog

And have a Spooktacular October! Be sure to visit Tell-Tale Publishing's Halloween Horror Party!