At the edge of a gloomy looking forest there is a sign. It is a small wooden sign aged by time. Whatever it once said has been covered up by moss. All one can make out in the mess is ‘el and ‘me. If you are brave and perhaps a tad foolish, you’ll ignore the sign completely. Venture forth into the woods where no life lives. The tall trees may loom over you, there branches coming down like spider’s fingers. Do not be alarmed. They are mostly dead which makes them quite harmless. No animals roam in this forest. No birds make their nests in this place. If you see movement out of the corner of your eye? Do not show fear. You may turn around and leave. None shall pass judgement on your cowardance. Or if you are foolish and perhaps a bit brave. Go further in. Just don’t pay attention to whatever that was. Tell yourself it was an animal if you wish. It won’t harm you as long as you don’t scream. If you have not left yet and i’m sure you haven’t. A marvelous sight is coming for you. Three riders on horses made of skeleton bones shall race past. One is the color of the day. Sometimes white. Most times pink or a light purple. If he appears red, you do need to run. The next will be blazing gold like the sun. Cover your eyes the sight of them is too much. It is said those who gaze upon them too long will lose their sight. Last comes the one dressed in black. As she rides past if you watch closely. You will see the stars scattering off her cloak. She represents the cover of night and the treasures she holds. I will warn you one last time. You can turn now content for few living souls have seen these riders. I will warn you one last time. You can turn now content for few living souls have seen these riders. Or you could continue to the clearing just up ahead and see something no one else can claim. In the clearing you shall see a fence made of yellowish bones. Some are whole. Others are broken away. They are held together by strains of hair. Multiple colors to bring about some cheer. Past this you shall see a lovely sight. A large cottage made of black wood. The shutters and doorway are perfectly carved with the heads of chickens and roosters. Tapestries of lovely shades of red and blue hung in the doorway and windows blocking out the view inside. A good thing for the inhabitat won’t see you coming. The straw roof is a grayish black that offsets the stone chimney on top. The most stunning things about the house is the two long chicken legs on either side. The black feathers gleam in the sunlight. The long legs are curled into the feathers. If you look closely you can see the long talons poking out. If you are wise, you will show me shower me with complaints. My beloved Baba and that Lucy certainly don’t. I would advise to not go inside the house. My dear Baba hates uninvited visitors. If you truly cannot live without gazing on the magnificat that is Baba Yaga then be clever. Come around the house carefully and watch out for the herb garden by my left leg.If you are foolish and perhaps a tad brave why come to my window. If you are not tall enough to see; over by the herb garden there is an empty flower pot. Do not trod upon the mandarkes though. Baba will have such a fit. Here let me lift the tapestry away a bit. Isn’t it lovely shade? Or so i’ve been told. Oh wait! She is not alone. Lucy is with her. I’m sure the whole forest knows he’s here thanks to his boisterous nature. It will be terrible if he finds you here. I know. I shall describe everything going on. In case you must hide quickly and miss seeing the greatest witch of all time called Baba Yaga.
“How deplorable of those brothers! How vile! How deceitful! Stealing away not only my story but my dishonorable traits as well.’
Lucy threw his body forward onto the old oak table. The fourth leg shook a bit at the added weight. He never paid a thought to the worm loved wood. He never paid much care to anything but himself. He took another sip of his tea before continuing his rant.
“Why see if I don’t put them in a cauldron of bubbling fat or cause their bodies to break out in boils. They deserve only the best!”
He sneered out the last bit, spitting onto the dusty floor. Lucy had been acting out for the last hour or so since hearing the news. Two brothers by the name of Grimm have been stealing away stories. In order to get away with the thief. The brothers would alter the stories to fit their mindset. Recently they decided to take this business a step forward. Be prepared. That have made a book! This news has everyone quite worked up! I’d laugh at Lucy’s misery, had the brothers not stolen from me as well. If I said more it would wear on the reader. Much as Lucy is straining his host nerves. There was much the host would like to say to her unfavorable guest. Baba as her friends called her, if she had any, chopped away at a large thigh bone with sharp needle like teeth. Lucy stood and paced around the room. He had finally stopped complaining. It was hard on the me when Lucy visited. Luckily (for him) he was blosterious and violent enough for Baba’s liking to stay. With a careless flick of her hand she sent the bone she was working on, flying at Lucy’s head. He swayed like the drunken sailor and the bone missed him completely. It smacked me instead. I didn’t blame Baba, but my dislike for Lucy had certainly grown. I would make my displeasure known but i’d rather not strain Baba. Her whole body has grown smaller since her food supply of late has shrunk. Why even her gray hair that is always moving and snapping has gone limp. Baba starts clawing at the rotten table with sharp talons. This is a bad sign. She is either hungry or angry. It would be bad if she was both. Baba is watching Lucy snap his whole body like a rubber band in a child’s hand. With a sniff and a twitch of his moustache his demeanor changed.
“I suppose speaking about the event may calm my,”
He searched for words as his hands played at imaginary dust on his green tweed coat. Baba interjected with,
Lucy sneered his left nostril blowing out a bit of gray smoke. With the most dramatic display, Baba had not seen in some time. Lucy retook his seat. His body sprawled out and arms encasing his face he finally settled into the retelling.
“It had all started as a simple game, really. See how far I could corrupt a man. Not just any man,”
His arm outstretched, one finger pointing in the air. He moved his head to stare at Baba unblinking eyes.
“One honar bond, faithful and above all else loyal. Be it a notation, faith, or passion. This kind of man cannot be found in any store or simple house. Nor does he abide by the rich and powerful. The man I wanted was something fair purer. Not a priest however,”
Lucy rolled his eyes and placed a hand on his chest. Baba took the dramatic moment to find a new bone to munch on.
“They were such bores and had no real meat for looking evil in the eye and not run away screaming. I needed a man who had seen the worst humanity had to offer and still had hope. I needed a soldier. I had found the perfect one too in a little town called,”
Lucy paused his mind racing behind those devilish blue eyes. He was trying to remember for the sake of the story. Lucy could not.
“Oh Baba! It was such a simple minded and boring place I haven't the foggiest clue to what it was called. It doesn’t matter really. What matters is the soldier. He had come stumbling into the woods. His clothes askew. A fresh black eye and bloody nose marred his handsome face. There was even bits of dirt and something awful smelly covering his lovely golden head. Oh Baba he was perfect. I had waited until he had fallen to the ground in a heap to speak with him. I approach him as one should a timid woodland creature. With slow measured hoof steps. When he dared to look at me I knew he was speechless.”
Lucy was interrupted by an arput bark of laughter. Her mirth is quite rare when a child isn’t around. Baba’s bark turned into a whistling howl and in the distance you can hear the dogs howling back. Lucy’s raven dark hair seemed to shimmer.
“What is so funny, you noseless twit!”
Lucy screeched his hair glowing an erie blue and the shimmer seemed to grow. Baba inhaled sharply, an act to tame her laughter. Baba placed one long gray wither hand upon her brow. Her dark beady eyes blinked rapidly as if she had a speck of dust in them.
“When he dared to look upon me I knew he was speechless,”
Baba intoned her voice sounding like Lucy’s.
“Why next you’ll tell me he fell over himself to kiss those hooves of yours.”
“He did indeed!”
I won’t bother to describe the argument for it was about as interesting as watching paint dry. At least to me it was for i have heard the same argument for the last two hundred years. In fact this very story has been retold by Lucy nearly every visit; that I myself could retell it properly. You would like to hear the story? Oh well I suppose I am a fine story teller. Finer than Lucy can ever claim to be. Well as Lucy sets the table on fire, and Baba strikes at him with a femur. I shall settle down with you dear listener and tell you the true story of,