“Crunch, crunch, crunch, who’s crunching on my house!”
“The wind, the wind, the heavenly child,” 

Hansel & Gretel, Grimm

Holly and Gail had to leave. Their parents – well, their father and stepmother, were cruel beyond further tolerance.

“Gail, trust me. I’m your older sister and you have to listen to me.” Holly had protected Gail till now, taking the brunt of their new mother’s rage. But now Gail had bruises on her arms. Holly failed and now needed to get her sister to safety before the cigarettes found a new ash tray on Gail’s flesh. 

“I want mommy!” Gail was a very young four year old when their real mother had died, only remembering the good times, not the drinking. Holly remembered everything. 

Their mother was sweet, most of the time, but had a dark side that she mostly hid from her daughters. Holly was nine when her drunk mother smashed the family car into a tree. Holly and Gail barely survived in the back seat. 

“But, Mom, I don’t want to sit back there with the baby,” Holly pleaded. 

“Get back there with your sister before I give you something to cry about.” Their real mom was, perhaps, only slightly better than the monster living down the hall now.

In a way, Mom saved Holly that day Dad, not a peach to begin with, completely checked out. 

Now twelve, Holly had been putting up with Patricia for two years. If Dad had any money, she and Gail would be at boarding school. Patricia made it clear that children were not her goal or joy. 

Holly recognized the threat immediately but Dad never listened. In his mind, any mom was better than none. Without Patricia, he would have to be a parent to his own girls and that terrified him. He never wanted kids. Holly and Gail were the mistakes, a fact he never hid. Dad never touched his girls, but in so many ways, his words and absence hurt more. 

Gail was just now old enough to realize that sadness and her reward was a hard twist of the arm. Dad yelled at Patricia for hurting his kid. Patricia screamed, “Someone has to teach those brats manners.” Stepmom was not into the lead by example method.

“Keep quiet and follow me,” Holly lead Gail out the back window. 

The wind howled almost blocking out the screams from within – almost. In the distance, a crack of thunder roared. Holly had not seen the heat lightning that proceeded but now the sky lit up before a second thunderous clap.

“Shhhh. You can’t cry now. We have to be quiet. Strong.”

“Holly, where are we going?” Gail tried to toughen up for her sister.

“I don’t know. Anywhere but here.” Holly honestly had no idea. 

Last time, the police brought them right back home. A social worker stopped by the house a few weeks later. A counselor at school shared empty promises. Patricia knew enough to let the bruises heal for the time being, but it wasn’t long before the pain returned. Apparently Holly caused every failure, somehow, including those bad choices Patricia made before Holly was born. Holly intended this to be the first and last time Gail would be Patricia’s scapegoat.

They walked through the forest behind the trailer park. The screams now blended with the neighbor’s laughter, car horns, and old man Jones’s bluegrass albums. As they crossed Juniper street the sounds of their tiny corner of the world faded away. It was quiet and dark between flashes and rumbles. A storm was coming.

Holly dragged Gail behind one neighborhood after another, now between the bigger houses in town. They saw so many silhouettes in the windows but feared confiding to the wrong ear. Holly decided the best course was to keep going, into the next wooded area. 

Suddenly the light streaked and thunder followed a mere second later. Before Holly could explain to Gail the meaning of this, the sky opened. A sprinkle became a downpour, all signs of tears washed away. Gail was shivering now. Holly pretended not to be cold; she pretended to be strong. 

“There!” A porch light at the top of the hill, just passed the tree line, looked promising. No one ever comes in or out of that house.

“That’s the scary lady’s house,” Gail thought of the urban legends naughty teenagers shared. 

“Come on, those are just stories from annoying boys,” Holly assured her. 

Holly knew the stories older kids told at Halloween bonfires to scare the younger children. 

“If you are out past curfew on Halloween, the witch will take you and you will never be seen again!” Holly never gave these jerks, or their haunted tales, the time of day.

The stories were bolstered by a series of disappearances over the years. For decades their town was famous for the unexplained mysteries. Most folks assumed the kids slipped into the lake or river. This is not the most remote town in America, but it’s no center of commerce either. 

A few years back, the body of a missing teen was found when they dredged the lake and that was the explanation given to all. But the high school kids kept the stories alive for future nightmares, claiming this house was haunted by the witch’s victims, that they heard children giggling and screaming late at night.

The witch, actually Eta Hoffman, was legendary in their town. Dad used to say she was a scary old witch when he was a kid. Holly knew Miss Hoffman had recently passed away. Her younger niece, Sabine, had moved in to care for her famously wicked aunt and was now in the process of selling the house before returning to Germany.

The wind was so strong, being under the porch did little for the now near horizontal rain pelting. Holly peaked in the window. It was mostly dark. When the lightning flashed she could see the large kitchen. Trying the door, it was unlocked.

“I don’t know. What if the witch is in there.” Gail cowered.

“She’s been gone a long time now. And her niece is probably out too. No one has seen her for weeks.” Holly worried more about getting her sister warm and dry than useless ghost stories. Just in case they quietly closed the door behind them.

This was the kitchen of an old farmhouse, with a large butcher block center island,  cast iron stove and copper pans hanging from the ceiling with other utensils. Holly grabbed a hanging hand towel.

“See, this is a nice place. Warm and cozy.” Holly reassured her sibling. But as she turned to dry off Gail’s face and arms, her sister was nibbling on a sugar cookie with pink and blue confectionery icing. 

“Where did you get that? That’s not yours. You should ask permission. What if it’s -” Holly cut herself off, catching the sounds of evil parents escaping her own mouth. After this night, Gail deserved a treat. So did she.

“Yummy, right?” Gail loved her sister joining in some fun for a change. Holly was never much of a kid. They both grabbed a second cookie before turning down the hall to explore. The old wood floors creaked. 

“I have to -” Gail gestured.

“Go ahead. Hurry up.” Holly knew the look and stood guard outside the bathroom. “Wash your hands,” Holly whispered through the door.

The thunder continued to bellow and the lightning revealed new corners of the house with every flash. They came to the front door when Gail shrieked,  “What are those?”

The room to their left, a parlor, Holly thought, had the most curious, and quite creepy collection of porcelain dolls, children, in a variety of outfits spanning decades, if not centuries of styles. 

“Cool,” Gail strangely loved the macabre, especially for a seven year old. Once she realized the scary faces were not alive, she ran into the room, a museum of oddities now. Holly thought they looked alive. Far too real for her taste. 

“Come on, we’ve been here too long. We should go as soon as there is a break in the storm.” But the storm was not going to let up anytime soon. They curled up together on the sitting room sofa, warm themselves under a knitted throw blanket. Holly tried to stay awake but soon followed Gail into slumber.

“Psst. Wake up. You need to get out of here.”

“Hurry. She’s back. Go. Quick. Now.”

Holly opened her eyes to find two children urging them up and out. 

“Who are you? What’s going on?” Holly begged for answers.

“Holly?” Gail was now awake too.

“Ssssshhhh! There’s no time. You must sneak out the back.”

“NO! There’s no time. She’s here. HIDE!”

The children pushed them into the corner, covered them with the blanket and a few of the dolls.

“Whatever you do, don’t make a sound.”

Through the layers Holly now thought she saw at least five children scurrying about. They were cleaning – dusting and sweeping. 

A car door slammed outside, followed by loud steps on the stone walkway, then up the wooden steps and onto the front porch. The door creaked open and a young woman entered, dressed in a very old world Europe refined burgundy dress that reminded Holly of Peggy Carter in the Captain America movie. She was beautiful, clearly not the old witch of this house’s rumored past, with long brown hair, and perfectly painted nails and lips. Holly had never seen a woman like this in town.

“What are you little rats up to? Why is this place such a mess?” Holly immediately realized the beauty was barely skin deep. Past the painted exterior this could have been Patricia.

“Sorry, Miss Sabine.”

“Sorry, Miss Hoffman.”

“Give us a few and we’ll have this house shining as new.”

“Good, I need to unload this dump before moving back to Germany. I’ve already been here too long. Der Wind, der Wind, Das himmlische Kind.”

Sabine was cruel. She was far too young to be mother to all, or any of these children. All but one were closer to Gail’s age. The one boy was closer to Holly. 

“STOP! COME HERE AT ONCE!” Sabine screeched from down the hall. “Who helped themselves to MY cookies? Who would dare? Which of you would -“

Sabine suddenly stopped. There was a commotion – opening cabinets, maybe. The back door was opened and shut – another door, then the bathroom door. 

“Who is here? You brats know better. Fear is such a great motivator. You wouldn’t dare take even a bite without my permission. But strangers, naughty children off the street, hungry, sheltering from the storm, perhaps, would not think twice, easily tempted.” 

Sabine Hoffman stormed through the house. She ran down to the cellar. Directly below Sabine smashed an old chair against the stone foundation. A crash of who knows what slammed to the ground before the stomps climbed back up the steps.

“Where is he? Or she? Or they?”

Sabine ran upstairs, skipping a few along the way. More doors. More crashes.

“Miss Sabine. Miss Hoffman.” Holly saw her shadow from upstairs cast down upon the pleading children as the last lightning flashed. “We did hear children, two girls, but they were gone by the time we woke.”

“Gone? Gone, you say?” Sabine descended more deliberately than she climbed the stairs. “Two girls trespassing in my house? And you let them go?”

The older boy stepped out of the gathering of children. There were seven now all together at the bottom of the steps. 

“Yes, Miss Sabine. They were here and gone before we could stop them. I think they saw us and got scared off.”

“Well, Freddy, you are fairly nasty to gaze upon.”  Holly disagreed. This boy was handsome and brave. “If I saw your porcelain face, I’d turn and run, terrified as well. All of you? You all agree with Freddy’s version of events.”

“Yes. Oh, yes, Miss Sabine, Miss Hoffman.”

“Oh, shut up. Auntie Sabine is hungry. You, Claire is it? Come here and let me feed.” 

The youngest girl in the group turned gray. The terror on her face curdled Holly’s skin. Sabine grabbed Claire’s hand and dragged her back towards the kitchen. There was a scream, followed by numbing moans and a glow shone down the hall. 

“Quick. It’s now or never. We have to sneak you out before the mistress finds you – before it’s too late. She’s distracted now but only a few moments. She barely sees or hears a thing when she feeds.” Freddy was face to face with Holly now.

“Wait, you’re Frederick Matheson. You went missing two years ago. I know your brother; he’s in my class.”

“Ricky? You know Ricky?” Freddy looked as if he wanted to cry but had no tears left. “There’s no time. You need to go.”

“Come with us,” Holly was confused. How was Freddy here all this time? He looked just like his pictures, from years ago.

“It’s too late for me,” Freddy urged them to the door. “I can’t leave. Get out of here before you can’t leave either.” 

But just then, before Holly could urge Freddy to join them, Gail screamed. 

Holly looked down the hall. In the kitchen, Sabine Hoffman had Claire in her clutches. A mist emanated from Claire, flowing out and into Sabine through her lips and nostrils. 

Startled, Sabine let Claire go. Claire screamed, fell, but as she hit the kitchen floor, shattered into a thousand porcelain pieces.

“How dare you? And now, Claire is ruined. She had many years left in her. My tastiest treat, destroyed. But what have we here? Two replacements. That looks like a fair trade to me.” 

“Now, go, get out of here.” Freddy pushed Holly out the door. Reaching for Gail, she grabbed Freddy’s hand. Freddy fell out the door, and they both fell to the floor of the wooden porch. 

“Quick, Gail. Grab Gail!” Freddy was closer to the door but was not moving. Holly rolled him to his back and shrieked. Freddy was now a porcelain doll. 

The door slammed shut with Gail, and other children, inside, screaming. “Holly, help!”

“You can’t abandon your sister, can you, Holly? Holly and Gail, eh? That’s funny.” Sabine sounded more and more wicked with every breath. “Come back inside and we’ll call your parents.”

“Let her go.” Banging on the door, Holly felt something grabbing her pant leg.

“It’s too late for her, unless you get her out before sunrise,” Freddy was weak but still able to animate just enough to get Holly’s attention. “Once she feeds on you no child can live outside the enchanted house.” 

Gail screamed. 

“Gail! Freddy, you must help me. What can I do?” Holly begged.

“It’s too late. Run, while you still can.”

The door swung open and Sabine stomped on Freddy’s face, shattering it like Claire’s. “Traitor. That’s two children you’ve made me lose tonight. Time to join your sister. I think that’s more than fair.” 

Sabine grabbed Holly by the collar.

“Holly! Help!” As Gail cried out her body and face froze, turned ghostly white and now was just another of the witch’s collection of dolls. Holly bit Sabine’s hand and escaped.

“Aaaaaah! You disgusting child! You are going to regret that!”

Holly ran. Holly ran like she has never run before. She ran down the steps, down the stone path, back into the woods, and back through the center of town. She ran all the way to the Sheriff’s office where Patricia and her father argued. 

“There you are, you little brat. Where’s your good for nothing sister?” Patricia was true to character.

“Hey, that’s enough!” Dad seemed different, scolding his wife for the first time. Turning to Holly, he softened, actually worried. “I’m so sorry. Are you Okay? Where’s Gail?”

Holly exploded, “Sabine Hoffman has her. She has all the children. Gail is in trouble. She’s -” Holly didn’t want to believe she was dead, never mind say the words aloud. “Freddy was there, too. Frederick Matheson. But she killed him. I saw her kill him. We have to hurry. It’s almost sunrise.”

Holly hopped in the back of Dad’s truck. He locked the doors as Patricia tried to get in. “I don’t think so. You’ve done enough.”

The sheriff took off in his car with sirens and lights blaring. Dad followed closely behind. Lights all over town flickered on as they passed. The drive was just a couple minutes, so much quicker than on foot.

As they turned off the road, onto the long winding dirt and gravel drive, a glowing light flickered through the trees. As they cleared the trees, the entire Hoffman house roared in a blazing fire. Holly thought she heard screams, but the sheriff later said that was just the hissing of old wood support beams, wet from the recently passed storm. 

“Gail!” Holly leapt out of the truck, but her father grabbed her before reaching the porch steps.

“No, Holly, are you crazy? You’ll get burned!”  Dad held her tight. If Gail was in there, it was too late.

In the remaining minutes before dawn, nearly the entire town gathered as the fire brigade fought the last smoldering tinder. The sheriff was now joined by his deputies, the mayor and fire chief inspecting the charred remains. 

Holly just stood there, held by her father,  in shock, for hours. At some point Patricia caught up but was sent away. For good. As the sun rose, Holly fell asleep in her father’s arms, now, for the first time she could remember, a safe space. 

There was no sign of Sabine. There was no sign of Gail.  No sign of any children. No sign of any dolls. Dad said even the hottest fire would leave a trace of human remains and porcelain. Hope was a good look on him.

Townsfolk started talking and realized there was never a funeral for Eta Hoffman. There was no record of any burial or cremation in the state. No one had ever actually seen Eta’s face. As they dug deeper, there was no record of Eta Hoffman at all. The deed of the house was in the name of Sabine Hoffman, a German national that purchased the house shortly after World War two. Generations ignored the recluse. 

Now safe from Patricia and for the first time in the loving home of a single father, Holly had the space to foster her new obsession. 

After months of research Holly found a picture of Sabine Hoffman from 1942. It was the same woman that took Gail and killed Freddy. Holly continued to track Sabine Hoffman back to the Black Forest, outside a town called Hausach.

Holly continued her obsession throughout high school, quietly, as she soon learned sharing theories, at best, got an eye roll from Dad, and at worst, the STOP WASTING YOUR TIME speech. Dad was there like never before but only through deep avoidance issues. Any thought of Gail threatened to bring on another evil step mother and other old bad habits. Dad was not going to be a source of help so Holly instead kept her side hustle a secret and cherished Dad’s new found devotion to his one remaining child.

When a chance to study abroad arose, Holly took the first plane to Germany she could book. On her first holiday break from studies,  Holly hopped on a bus to Hausach. She didn’t really expect to find anything, but needed to go there. She walked around town, a village lost in time with scattered modern amenities. She sat for a coffee, waiting for the bus back to school, when she caught a glimpse of a woman crossing the street. 

Holly froze. Memories of that night of terror flooded. She caught herself just short of defecation. 

Regaining her composure, Holly followed the woman down the street. Soon the road continued past the town ‘s edge. She was running out of places to hide, should this woman turn around. Holly dropped back and walked along the forest edge, just out of sight. 

It was getting dark as they turned down a path and approached a small cottage set way back from the view of the main road. The charming abode was out of a fairy tale. The sweet smell of fresh baked goodies filled the air. A brook trickled down the valley just out of view but added a magical soundtrack to the storybook view.  

The woman entered. Set down a package and wandered to the back of the house. Holly crept closer, curiouser and curiouser, peeking in the window. Then she saw them. Porcelain dolls. It WAS her. Holly froze again. 

“Where did you come from? Curiosity killed the cat, you know?” Sabine Hoffman had snuck up behind her from around the outside of the house. It WAS her. 

“Oh, I’m sorry, miss. I was going for a walk when I smelled the most amazing smell. Your house is truly delightful.” Holly tried to hide everything swirling in her head. 

“American? Strange to find you so far from  town, not that we even get that many tourists.”

“Oh, I’m a student on holiday. Exchange student, studying at Heidelberg University. I try to go exploring a different town every weekend. Off the beaten path is the road for me.” Behind fake chuckles, Holly was gathering her thoughts. She had imagined this moment every day for seven years, but now, to have Sabine Hoffman in her sights, she hesitated.

“Great, well, this is my private home and you are trespassing. I don’t want any trouble. Move along before I have to call the police.” Sabine was annoyed but put on her best behavior for strangers and townsfolk. 

“Of course. Sorry to bother you, Miss Hoffman,” Holly turned to go before she realized her slip, and suddenly was on the ground.

“YOU! I thought I recognized that smug face.” Sabine was upon her now, clawing and scratching. 

Holly mustered up enough strength to kick Sabine off. She hopped to her feet and ran inside the house. It was much smaller but eerily looked like the horror house from her childhood. With Sabine just steps behind, Holly ran back to the kitchen, found a butcher’s knife and turned just in time to find Sabine Hoffman, between two ribs. 

Sabine started to shake and moan. Foam emanated from her mouth. Her eyes glowed, then a beam of light shone from every orifice. The moans became screams. The entire house was shuddering. Holly ran out of the kitchen just as Sabine Hoffman exploded like one of her porcelain dolls. 

In total shock, Holly layed there in the hall watching pieces of Sabine Hoffman drip to the floor. About to burst out in disgust, when – 

“Holly?” 

Holly turned her head back to the front rooms. There, amid a group of children, was her sister, Gail, still seven years old, wearing the same outfit she wore seven years ago. 

“GAIL!” Holly leapt and ran to her sister. “It’s really you?”

Holly embraced all the children, a collection of lost souls from decades of kidnappings. They explained the other dolls used to be children but over time Sabine Hoffman drained too much life force for them to reanimate. They were food and slaves of the witch. Holly hoped the magic would wear off now that Sabine is gone, but to no avail. Instead she would live out her days, as mother to the children, a loving mother she and Gail never had. That house became a warm place.

Decades later, Gail stopped reanimating. A few years passed before Sabine’s last victims came to life. Not long after, Holly passed, knowing she ended the centuries old cycle The Brothers Grimm got completely wrong.