At last, they emerged into a small clearing. The fire stopped abruptly at its edge, as though an invisible barrier had been erected to keep it out. Hansel collapsed onto the ground, gasping for air. Gretel stumbled to his side, her stick falling from her grasp.

Mary stood a few paces away, her breathing steady. Her red cloak gleamed in the firelight, and her smile was sharper now, predatory.

“You’re safe,” she said, her voice soothing. “Rest. You’ll need your strength.”

Hansel looked up at her, his face pale but grateful. “Thank you,” he whispered.

Gretel’s sharp eyes fixed on Mary, her unease growing. But the exhaustion was too much. She sank to the ground beside Hansel, her body trembling.

Mary’s shadow reached for them like a living thing, dark tendrils flickering at its edges in time with the crackling flames. Her smile deepened, but it was no longer comforting. It was sharp, almost triumphant, as though she were savoring the moment.

“You’ve had such a long, hard journey,” she said softly, crouching to their level. Her ember-like eyes gleamed as they flicked between Hansel and Gretel. “But it’s over now. You can rest.”

Hansel nodded weakly, his exhaustion dulling his instincts. He clutched his wooden carving tightly, its rough edges digging into his hands. “We thought… we thought we’d never escape,” he murmured.

“Oh, little one,” Mary said, her voice dripping with sweetness. She reached out as if to touch his cheek, but her hand hovered just short of contact. “You’ll never have to run again.”

Gretel shifted slightly, her sharp eyes narrowing as she caught the subtle edge in Mary’s tone. Something about her presence didn’t feel right, but Gretel’s body ached too much to act on her suspicions. She leaned closer to Hansel, her voice low and wary. “We shouldn’t stay here,” she whispered.

Hansel looked at her, his face pale and streaked with dirt. “She helped us,” he said defensively. “She saved us.”

Mary tilted her head, her sharp ears catching Gretel’s words. Her serene smile didn’t falter, but her eyes darkened. “What’s the matter, dear one?” she asked Gretel, her voice calm but cold. “Don’t you trust me?”

Gretel hesitated, her fingers tightening around the stick she had carried for miles. “I don’t trust anyone,” she replied evenly, her tone steely.

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Mary’s smile widened, her white teeth glinting in the firelight. “A wise answer,” she said, standing slowly. “Trust is a dangerous thing. But so is running when there’s nowhere to go.”

Before Gretel could respond, the shadows around Mary shifted, coiling and writhing unnaturally. The firelight dimmed, and the warmth of the clearing gave way to a chill that bit through the children’s thin clothing.

Hansel shivered, his wide eyes darting to Gretel. “What’s happening?”

Gretel didn’t answer. She pushed herself to her feet, her stick clutched tightly in her trembling hands. “Get up, Hansel,” she said, her voice low but urgent. “Now.”

Mary let out a soft, lilting laugh. “Oh, you’re clever, aren’t you?” she said, her voice taking on a sharper edge. “But cleverness won’t save you.”

The crimson cloak that had once seemed soft and inviting dissolved into swirling shadows, and Mary’s human facade fell away. Her gray, goblin-like skin shimmered in the dim light, and her ember-like eyes burned with malice. Her sharp claws glinted as she raised her hands, her voice a low, menacing growl. “You thought you could escape me?”

Hansel stumbled backward, his small frame trembling. “What… what are you?”

Mary’s lips curled into a sneer, her ember-like eyes narrowing. “Your worst mistake,” she said coldly.

She lunged.

Gretel yanked Hansel’s arm, pulling him away just as Mary’s claws slashed through the air where he had stood. “Run!” she screamed, shoving him toward the edge of the clearing.

Hansel bolted, his small legs carrying him back into the shadows of the forest. Gretel followed close behind, her breath ragged as she darted through the underbrush. Mary’s mocking laughter echoed behind them, sharp and haunting.

“You can’t run forever!” she called, her voice carrying like a predator’s growl. “I’ll find you, little mice!”

The forest closed in around them, the darkness thick and oppressive. Hansel stumbled over a root, crying out as he hit the ground. Gretel skidded to a halt and doubled back, her sharp eyes scanning the shadows for Mary.

“Get up!” she hissed, hauling Hansel to his feet. “We have to keep moving!”

“But—” Hansel’s voice cracked, his body trembling with exhaustion. “I can’t—”

“Yes, you can!” Gretel snapped, dragging him forward. Her sharp gaze caught a faint glimmer of light through the trees—a warm, golden glow that cut through the suffocating darkness. “There!” she cried, pointing. “The house!”

“What house?” Hansel gasped, stumbling forward.

“I don’t know,” Gretel said. “But it’s our only chance.”

They broke through the dense underbrush into another clearing, and the sight before them made them falter. A house of candy and gingerbread stood in the moonlight, its colorful facade shimmering as though freshly baked. A warm, inviting glow spilled from the windows, and the air was thick with the sweet scent of sugar and chocolate.

Hansel stared at the house, his chest heaving. “Is it real?” he whispered.

“We don’t have time to ask,” Gretel said sharply, grabbing his arm. She dragged him up the steps and threw open the candy-coated door. They tumbled inside, slamming it shut behind them.

For a moment, there was silence, broken only by their ragged breathing and the faint crackling of a fire in the hearth. The warmth of the house was immediate, but Gretel couldn’t shake the unease that crawled along her spine.

Outside, Mary stepped into the clearing, her ember-like eyes narrowing as she surveyed the candy house. Her predatory smile returned, sharp and wicked.

“Well, well,” she murmured, her voice dripping with malice. “A sweet little cage for my prey.”

She stepped toward the door, her claws glinting in the moonlight. But before she could reach it, a low, rumbling growl echoed through the clearing.