Out on Dread Pathway Hansel and Gretel stood at the edge of the woods, staring down the winding path of Cakebread Ridge. The air smelled faintly of sugar, a teasing reminder of the witch’s house that once stood at the ridge’s end.
"Do you think we’ll see it again?" Hansel asked, his voice low. He gripped Gretel’s hand tightly.
"I don’t know," Gretel whispered. "But something’s still there. I can feel it."
They followed the crumbling path, the sweet scent growing stronger with every step. But when they reached the clearing, the towering candy house was gone. All that remained was its stone foundation, cracked and overgrown with wildflowers.
The silence of the clearing felt wrong, like the air itself was watching them. Hansel stepped forward and knelt by the foundation, brushing his fingers over a patch of crumbled gingerbread walls.
"Look!" Gretel pointed toward the far corner of the foundation. A half-melted lollipop stick poked out from the ground. She crouched down, pulling it free with a shiver. As she did, the air rippled, and for a fleeting moment, they saw her—the witch—fading in and out of sight, her twisted smile flickering like a flame.
"She’s still here," Gretel said, her voice shaking.
Hansel nodded, backing away. "We shouldn’t have come."
Behind them, the distant laughter of the witch echoed through the woods, and the scent of candy thickened, choking the air as they hurried back down Cakebread Ridge, never daring to look back.