Burn the Witch!

Last week, Ben and the goblin escaped the inside of the tree and found themselves in a witch’s grove.  When Ben asked what was for dinner, the witch replied, “Kid”.  (What else do witches eat?)

Ben glanced at the goblin.

The goblin licked its lips.  Its stomach rumbled.  He grinned and winked at Ben.  “What’s the best way to prepare a kid, madame?”

The witch cackled, delighted that someone would take an interest in her.  “Some prefer to boil them in soup.  Makes them nice and tender.”  She tapped her lip with a long finger.  “But, with guests, chops are best.”  She tied an apron around her waist.  “I haven’t cooked chops in a long time.  Ooh!  My familiar will be so pleased.”  She fussed with her herbs and seasonings.

Ben gulped again.  He turned to the witch and smiled.  “I’ll just wash up…?”

The witch nodded.  “Use the door beneath the stairs.”  She winked.  “It’s not a cupboard.”

Ben grabbed the goblin by the arm and dragged it away.  He threw open the door beneath the stairwell and jammed both of them into the tiny bathroom.

“Get off!”  The goblin shoved Ben against the wall.

“Help me.”  Ben knelt and clasped his hands together.

“Why?”  The goblin raised an eyebrow.  “I’ve never had kid before.”

“Really?”  Ben frowned.  “I thought goblins ate children all the time.”

The goblin snorted.  “Yeah. Children just wander into our homes and stumble into our cook pots every day.”  A grimace dragged down its lips.  “What do they teach you in school, boy?  Goblins only eat what they kill.”

“You’ve never killed a human?”

The goblin rolled its eyes.  “We’re hunters.  We don’t indiscriminately kill creatures.  We’re not dragons.”

“If I ever see another dragon again, it’ll be too soon,” Ben muttered.

“Even your precious cockatrice?”  The goblin smirked.

Ben chewed his lip.

“You live in the wrong world, kid.”  The goblin reached for the door handle.  “Though, I think you’ll soon be in the next.”  It chortled.

Ben slammed his body against the door.  “Come on. I helped you escape the tree.”

The goblin scratched its head.  “I’d’ve figured it out eventually.  And, it’s not like you opened a wardrobe and we just walked out from the back of it.”

“Still…”  Ben refused to budge.  “I can…I can help you.”

“Yeah?”  The goblin shoved Ben aside.  “You don’t even know what I want.”

“I’ll owe you a favor.”

The goblin studied Ben with narrowed eyes.  It raised a gnarled finger.  “A big one.”

Ben nodded.

The goblin gripped Ben’s wrist.  “Done.”

Relieved, Ben sagged against the toilet.

“At least let me leave before you do your business.”  The goblin pinched its nose and turned the door handle.

“That’s not…”  Ben’s cheeks grew hot.  “Let’s just take care of this witch.”

Together, they strode back into the kitchen.

The witch smiled over her shoulder at them.  She stood in front of the oven and rearranged the shelves.  Oven mitts covered her hands.  “Find it okay?”

Ben nodded.

The witch hummed to herself as she slid a rack onto the top shelf.

Ben looked at the goblin.

The goblin nodded.

The rushed the witch and shoved her into the oven.  Ben slammed the door.  The goblin turned the dial, cranking the heat to maximum.  They both leaned against the door.

The front door opened.  “I’m back.”  A strange jingle followed.  “Mistress?”

The imp who had entered the tree earlier walked into the kitchen.  He gaped at Ben and the goblin.  “What have you done?”

A young goat followed the imp, its hooves click-clacked against the kitchen’s tile floor.  A small bell hung from its neck.

So, what do you think will happen?  What do you want to happen?  Was it too short?  Too long?  Too unfunny?

Yep, that’s right.  I’m soliciting comments and suggestions.  I may even use them.  No matter how wacky, zany, nerdy, or weird.  No matter how serious, fanciful, or sci-fi.  It’s a choose your own adventure.  You choose what happens next.

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About bkreuch

I like to read, I like to write, and I like to make people laugh.
This entry was posted in Ben's Hen, Humor, Writing and tagged , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

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