"Once fearless, they danced with courage in the face of adversity. Yet, even the bravest hearts can tremble when shadows of their own fears cast doubt upon the stage they once commanded."
Gregory was the 6th son of John, the famous baker of a little village Belgravia. All the sons of John were known for their strength, but Gregory was exceptional for the courage and bravery he possessed.
John shared the duties in the bakery among all his sons. John measured the ingredients while Elton and Carey, the twins, were given the job of mixing the dough to the right consistency. Clay was the one who did the resting, stretching, folding, or kneading of the dough. Floyd deflated and divided, Riguez shaped and handled the oven process, while Gregory did the hardest and most important job—gathering berries from the border forest.
The reason why this was the most challenging task was that there was a little hut in the forest rumored to be the house of an old witch. Many were scared to go there because of the hut, but Gregory was the only one who was never afraid of going there.
Although Gregory always went there, he never went near the hut. One day, Gregory and his friends gathered, as usual, for him to tell them about his adventures in the forest.
"There it was, the living hut of the old witch. I could feel the hut's cold invisible hands trying to grab me," Gregory said as he widened his eyes and grabbed his friend Ashton, who was the most timid of them all.
Ashton shouted and pulled away with all the strength he had, as if he was really being grabbed by invisible hands, "No!!!, don't take me. I will give you all my candies,"
Everyone laughed as Ashton fought for his life. Gregory always taunted Ashton because he always fell for it.
"Have you ever entered the hut before?" Lily, the inquisitive one, asked.
"Yes, have you ever entered the haunted hut?" Rose, who was Lily's little sister, asked too.
"The day I managed to enter, there was a giant bird inside. And it flapped its wings so hard that I was blown far away outside by the wind it made." Gregory couldn't even keep up with the amount of false tales he told his friends.
They were all wowed by his tales "Woah,"
"You must be really brave," Tony, the last of the six friends, said.
"Yes, that is why I am the only one who has ever gone into the hut."
"Oh, so you have trespassed the old witch's lines," Old Man Willy said as he joined their circle. Old Man Willy was known for his tales. Even Gregory couldn't make people believe lies like he did.
"Then you must know about the old witch's wand," Old Willy said as he sat among the children.
"Wow, I didn't know she had a wand. I have always wanted a wand so I could do magic," lily said.
"Well, it is said that anyone who gets the wand will be the most powerful person," Old Willy said.
"If I were as brave as Gregory, I would get the wand and make myself the strongest man alive," Ashton said.
"Will you take the wand when you go to the witch's hut tomorrow?" Lily asked Gregory.
"Of course I will, and when I get back, I will grant everyone's wishes," Gregory said, not wanting to lose his title.
Later that night, Gregory couldn't stop thinking about all the things he could do with the wand. He was good at telling fake tales but wasn't good at knowing one.
The next day, Gregory went to do his daily tasks. After picking the berries, he wrapped them in a cloth. He reached the witch's hut, waited outside for minutes, staring at the house. When he gathered all the courage he needed, he hid the berries and entered the hut.
Inside, he was frightened; it looked worse than it did from outside, with bones everywhere and a big pot of boiling broth. Gregory moved with caution, trying not to touch anything or make any noise. He stopped when he saw a crow looking at him, seemingly lifeless.
"I am the bravest, I am Gregory the bravest," he whispered, giving himself the morale he needed, as he stretched slowly to touch the crow to see if it was alive. When he touched it, it didn't move, and he let out a sigh of relief. Then he saw something sparkle in a cupboard, covered in dust and webs. That still couldn't stop him from knowing what the shiny stuff was.
"Yes, I found it," he said in excitement with a low voice. He found the wand. "Beautiful," he said as he admired the most beautiful object he had seen in his life, made of crystal.
"Intruder! Intruder! Intruder!" The once lifeless crow cried out loud. Gregory felt like he was going to have a heart attack, frozen with shock. He couldn't believe his eyes; the crow had come to life. When he regained consciousness, he rushed to the door.
"Daddy!" he shouted, bumping into a tall figure blocking the exit—far taller than even his dad.
"Well, well, well, what do we have here? A thief trying to steal my wand," the figure spoke.
"So you dare come into my house and try to steal from me," the witch said with a voice that echoed eerily, each word slithering out like a sinister melody. She removed the hood, revealing an all-black garment.
Her face bore the weight of time, with deep, furrowed lines etched into her leathery skin. Her crooked nose jutted out like a twisted branch, overshadowing a toothless, wicked grin reveling in centuries of mischief. Sunken, malevolent eyes glinted with a malicious spark, completing the visage of a crone steeped in dark magic.
"Didn't your parents warn you about stealing from the elderly?" she said, gripping his hand with her long, dirty claws digging into his skin. Gregory cried out in pain, letting the wand fall to the ground, and dragged himself out of her grip, pushing her away from the exit with all the strength he could muster.
He ran without looking back, not realizing the big injury stretching across his hand. He could hear her wicked laughter echo behind him. He didn't stop running until he got home, collapsing and panting to catch his breath.
His dad and brothers came in, asking what was wrong, but he just kept on panting and shivering with tears rolling down from his eyes. He went to sleep from there and later that evening told his brothers and dad of his encounter with the witch. If he didn't have a big injury on his hand, like he was attacked by a bear, they probably wouldn't have believed him.
After that day, Gregory always told his tale, showing his adventure's scar. But he never went close to the forest again.
Thanks for reading.
A wonderful story, @menace123. It has the ring of a fable about it, but it stands well on its own as a unique story. A great line from this piece:
The line has the ring of irony, and yet, it turns out this tall tale may be true. Of course, we never know if the wand is truly magical and if the entity at the hut door is truly a witch. Gregory is so primed to believe Old Willy's story, that he may in his mind have 'seen' more than was actually there.
You wind up the resolution really well. Gregory is cured of his tall tale habit. This teller of tall tales may be cured of his habit.
Thank you for sharing the story with us, @menace123
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