I stood in the hall. The kitchen was right around the corner. I couldn't be certain, I couldn't know for sure, but that sounded like a cry for help suddenly being cut off. And the voice, well, it could only have belonged to one person—Grandma. My eyes widened as I froze on the spot. Why would Grandma be in the kitchen calling for help? I knew the answer, and I feared it more than anything else. She had been captured by the goblins.

"No!" my yell was still a whisper. "Grandma!"

I ran for the kitchen, toy sword in hand, as I came around the corner. The kitchen lay bare before me, and I saw the goblin at the counter. He had a little white chef's hat on and a large metal tray. A warm smell came from the room, and in the large tray, Grandma lay, tied up, gagged, and positioned like a turkey from the harvest festival. My heart jumped in my chest as I saw her there, and the goblin looked over to me with a wide smile. He held a baster filled with a thick brown liquid in his hand.

"Grack!" He squirted the baster directly in Grandma's face.

"What are you doing to my Grandma!" I yelled, holding my toy sword in front of me and pointing it at the goblin.

All Grandma's sayings were forgotten. My fear was shoved aside. Grandma was in trouble, and I was the only one who could help her.

"Grack!" the goblin yelled, throwing aside its baster and grabbing a long chef's knife from the counter.

I gulped down the lump that suddenly formed in my throat. I had a little toy sword, and it wouldn't hold up to a knife. However, Grandma was also tied up on the counter. I stood, neither running nor charging, as the goblin jumped down from the counter and started stalking toward me, knife in hand. It bent forward, holding one arm back with the knife held backward as it approached me. My heart quickened in my chest. My breath came in short gasps.

"If you find a goblin in the kitchen," the words fell out of my lips as the sword shook in my hands.

Nothing else came out. There were no words of wisdom from Grandma that I could remember. I never knew if she had told me anything about a goblin in the kitchen. The tip of the sword wavered as the goblin rose from its crouch, holding the knife high. It advanced one step, two steps, painfully slow towards me before it pushed the toy sword out of the way. I let the sword fall to the ground and fell down to my knees.

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"Mmph!" Grandma yelled.

That was when the saying hit men. I knew what to do.

"If there's a goblin in the kitchen, slap him with a mitten!"

"Grack!" The knife came down, but I had rolled away.

I scrambled across the floor toward the counter. I ducked behind the counter just as the goblin charged, rolling past me and slamming into one of the kitchen chairs. I didn't pay attention. I focused on finding what I needed. An oven mitt.

Crash. Crack!

I saw the mitts hanging on the handle of the oven and reached for them, jumping at the last moment in a desperate attempt to grab them. Soft, fuzzy cloth flittered into my fingers, and I took hold of the mittens, slamming hard to the ground with them in my hands. I had exactly what I needed. I just needed to slap the goblin, and I would win. Then I could save Grandma, and everything would be okay.

"Grack!" The goblin appeared above me.

The knife was in its hand, and I didn't have a moment to lose. It came down with the knife as I slapped up at it, and the cloth met the goblin's face when the knife was breaths away from me. The goblin froze, and the knife clattered to the ground by my shoulders.

Poof.

The goblin disappeared in a puff of smoke, leaving me on the ground with no goblin above me. I slid up, grabbing hold of the chef's knife before pushing myself to my feet. I needed to free Grandma. Then, this entire nightmare would be over. I crept over to her, and she tried to talk to me through the gag, but all that would come out of the cloth was muffled mumbles that I couldn't understand. I held out the knife.

"Don't worry, Grandma," I said. "I'm here to rescue you. You were right all along. The goblins were always there. I won't let you down this time. I'll cut you loose, and then we'll make sure the entire house is clear of them. Then we'll be safe."

"Mmmph!" Grandma tried to yell, but I hadn't gotten to the gag yet.

I started to cut the rope that held her. It was slow, and I couldn't get the knife beneath the rope without worrying about cutting her skin. I didn't want to hurt Grandma, even if it was to get her out. I worked at the rope for a while before I stepped back and sat the knife down. What I was doing clearly wasn't working. I needed another plan.

"What should I do?" I asked before I realized that Grandma was still gagged. "Oh."

I started to reach for the gag when I heard the noise from outside the kitchen.

Knock. Knock.

I stopped, a chill running down my back. Who would be knocking on our door in the dead of night?

Knock. Knock.

Again, the knocks came, and I reached for the knife. I could free Grandma, but first, I needed to figure out what was going on at the door. I crept forward, but a sudden new sound came from the door, entirely different from before.

Knock. Crack. Thud.

"Here comes the Goblin King for all to see!" a deep voice yelled from the other room. "Tell me, fellow goblins, how many meat pies will you bring to me?"