What Big Teeth - A Short Story

Written in 2020 | Rewritten in 2024 | 4,591 words

The story you are about to read is a “vomit draft.” This means that it is in its rawest form of writing and has no professional editing done whatsoever. But I welcome any corrections, grammatical or otherwise, you may find.

Once upon a time, in a faraway village, in the town of Elderbay, a little girl celebrated her twelfth birthday. Still a child, but just the right age for her first, and final, journey to Grandmother’s house. Deep in the woods is where Grandmother lives, and every year a girl is chosen to visit her in the woods and bring her fresh bread and herbs.  

To the children of Elderbay, Grandmother was never well enough to visit them. She stayed in the woods because she preferred the dark and was fearful of the light. And if you asked the adult villagers why they never visited Grandmother to bring her fresh bread and herbs, they would tell you it was because they were too old, and the journey too long. For a child, full of boundless energy, it would take less than half the time. 

And so, it is inside the house of little Sarah that we begin our story. 

Little Sarah prepared for her journey to Grandmother’s house by gathering up the basket she wove herself for this very special day. Her mother helped her fill it with fresh bread they baked together the night before. A tradition handed down between mother and daughter. A final time to spend together. 

Anders, Sarah’s older brother by two years, envied all the time his sister had been spending with their mother. This time was not meant for sons…or husbands. 

Sarah’s mother could feel Anders watching them in the doorway of the kitchen and it unsettled her. At least her husband had the good sense to keep his distance. He knew what was coming and that he was powerless to do anything about it. Anders was not yet old enough to understand their traditions and would have to wait until his sixteenth birthday, just two years away, before it would all be explained to him. Though that didn’t stop him, or the other boys in Elderbay with sisters, from constantly asking questions and never getting any direct answers. 

“Anders, I do wish you’d stop standing there. Don’t you have chores to be done this morning?” 

Anders shook his head. “Not this morning, ma. This morning pop asked me to wait here for your instructions. He said you’d be sending me into town for something?” 

“Did he?” his mother asked, a hint of surprise in her voice. 

“Everything alright, mother?” Little Sarah asked. Anders caught a tremble in his mother’s lower lip before she straightened her shoulders and smiled. A mother was never supposed to show weakness in front of her children. It was the only way she could protect them from the truth. Her heart was breaking. 

“Of course, my child,” she said, cupping Little Sarah’s chin in her hand. “If you could, dear Anders, pick up your sister’s cloak? We are not yet finished preparing Grandmother’s basket. Master Withers will be expecting you.” 

Anders balled his fists as he left. 

Anders didn’t want to visit the Cloak Maker’s shop. He already knew what he’d find there; a newly sewn cloak of red, made to measure, for his sister. He also knew that if he were to sneak into Master Withers shop at night, two nights before a young girl was to start her journey to Grandmother’s house, what he would find. A candlelight burning dimly in a shack hidden behind the shop.  

Anders was brought to the shop two nights ago by the leader of the Wolves; a clan of boys created by the brothers of sisters taken from them. For a long time, they knew something wasn’t right, but they hid themselves from their parent’s, who’ve allowed this lie to go on for so long. 

Their leader, Myers, formed the group when his sister was sent to Grandmother’s house many years ago, with a hollow promise that she would soon return. A year went by with no sign of his sister. His parent’s explained it was her decision whether she wanted to stay with Grandmother or return home. But only if she wanted to. According to his parent’s, when a daughter was chosen to visit Grandmother’s house, they lived with her for a period of one year, learning things only she could teach them. Then the girl decides if she wants to return to their village or journey forth to new lands and opportunities she could never see if she stayed in Elderbay. It’s a story other brothers in the clan had heard from their parent’s, repeated almost word-for-word. Myers didn’t believe them then, and his suspicions were proven true when he reached his sixteenth birthday and was finally old enough to be told the truth. 

Ever since, he’s told the truth to every brother in the village who has a sister, regardless of their age. And when they wouldn’t believe him, as Anders didn’t, he’d take them to Master Withers shop when the sun had set, and everyone was meant to be asleep. Two nights before a new girl was meant to journey to Grandmother’s house. Two nights before it was Sarah’s turn. 

It was just Anders and Myers that night, walking in complete darkness towards the cloak maker’s shop. And as promised by Myers, they saw the flicker of a candle in the window of a shack hidden behind his shop. They crouched under a window and Myers silently directed Anders to peek through it. When he finally got up enough courage to look, what he saw shocked him so much his foot slipped, causing a pile of logs beside him to topple over. Myers grabbed him by the arm and pulled him quickly into the darkness of the night, holding his hand over Anders’ mouth to silence him. 

They watched the door of the shack slowly creak open and Master Withers poke his head out, a candle in his hand. He stuck it out the doorway and passed it from left to right, his spectacled eyes squinting into the darkness, till he was satisfied no one hid in the darkness. Then he slammed the door shut and returned to his work, sewing a cloak for Little Sarah. 

Master Withers would start to sew a cloak two days prior to a girl’s journey. His advanced years meant he needed the extra time to start sewing the cloak that would be worn by the chosen girl. And he needed two days to get it perfect. The first step was to measure the child who was to receive his cloak. Then he went to work cutting the fabric. It was this step that Anders and Myers happened upon when they peeked through the cloak maker’s window. Inside his shack were yards and yards of bright red fabric. The cleanest and brightest Anders had ever seen. And just before he stumbled, Anders wondered to himself, what a town would need with so much red fabric? 

He asked this question of Myers once they were a safe distance from Master Withers and his shack. “The way I understand it, this tradition has been going on for centuries. That’s how old that witch is!” Anders’ face appeared skeptical. “I know. I can hardly believe it myself. But my father took me to the Volumes. He showed me the names. 

“What are they?” Anders asked. He had never heard of them before but his curiosity and belief in everything Myers told him mounted. 

“It’s where the names are kept of all the girls who’ve ever gone to visit Grandmother. And never come back.”  

Anders’ eyes widened. “Where?” he said, hardly able to finish his thought. “I need to see them for myself.” 

Myers simply nodded. He wasn’t the first boy initiated into the Wolf clan who insisted on seeing the Volumes and Myers knew he wouldn’t be the last. In silence, he led the way to a home that seemed devoid of human life. It wasn’t locked when Myers pulled the front door open and let Anders walk in first. There were candles lit all around a single room filled with shelves that reached to the ceiling, all with books. Anders realized he couldn’t see any of the lit candles from the outside because there were no windows. Every inch of the walls were covered with shelves on all four sides, except for the door they had just walked through. In the center of the room was a pedestal with an opened book. Myers walked up to it and pointed at the last entry made. Anders looked down and saw the name ‘Sarah’ written there. 

Before her name was the name of the girl who left them last year. It was a name Anders had completely forgotten until he saw it written before him. He wanted to read them all. He wanted to find the first Volume and count just how many names there were. Then he watched as Myers pulled a book off the shelf and opened it, as if he’d done it hundreds of times before. Anders stood beside him and looked at the name that Myers passed his finger over. It was slightly smudged, touched by tears many times over, but the name ‘Helena’ was legible enough. 

“Your sister?” Anders asked, to fill the silence between them. Myers simply nodded, unable to speak words in this room of death. They left in silence, each going their separate way that night. Anders never mentioned what he saw. But from that moment forward, he believed everything Myers said to him. 

On the night before his sister was expected to visit grandmother’s house, Anders met with Myers and the rest of the Wolf clan to devise a plan. It had been explained to him that defeating a witch was impossible. After all, none of them knew the first thing about killing a witch and all the stories they’d ever been told ended badly. The clan, as Myers told him, was meant more for support than for battle. 

“All of you may have been content with letting your sisters fall victim to this witch but I won’t be. I say we fight!” Anders shouted. There were nods of agreement amongst the clan. Everyone, except Myers, was with him. 

“Are you mad? Do you know what the witch does?” Myers asked, a choke in his voice. No one answered because no one knew, but Myers did. It was a story he hoped never to share with anyone, unless the moment came for drastic measures. And it looked to him like this had become that moment. “You want to know what she does?” he asked rhetorically, knowing no one would answer him. “First, she coaxes her with kindness. Food to eat and a warm bed to sleep in.” Everyone’s expression softened. One of them even smiled, thinking how nice that must’ve been for his sister to experience. “This is to make them good and fat. The fatter they are, the more to eat!” A collective inhale followed as no one expected that to have been the fate of their sisters. Many of them wanted to believe their sister chose to leave them and were living happier and better lives. 

“How do you know all this? How do you know she’s nice to them for several days to fatten them up before she eats them?” Anders asked. He knew there was only one possible way Myers could know what this pretend grandmother did to the sisters of their village, but he couldn’t bring himself to say it. 

One of the younger boys of the clan who sat near the back, pushed his way through them all, stopping an inch away from Myers’ face. And even though Myers was older, this boy was taller and broader in the shoulders. 

“Do you mean to tell us that you stood by and watched that witch kill my sister last year?” Before Myers could answer he was grabbed around his shirt collar and lifted several inches off the ground. 

Anders placed a hand on the angry brother’s forearm till he loosened his grip on Myers and put him back down on the ground. “I wasn’t there when the witch took your sister, Danvers—” 

“It was my sister,” came a quiet voice from a boy standing next to Anders. His head hung low and his shoulders were slumped. He was the youngest boy there. “I asked him to follow her,” he continued, tears in his eyes. “You lied to me. You told me she was happy when you came back.” 

It didn’t take long for everyone in the clan to side with Anders. They wanted to fight. And even though Myers knew they were all on a mission that would lead to their deaths, he stayed to help them as best he could. 

The plan was for Anders to convince his father to let him pick up the cloak for his sister. It didn’t take much convincing as it was easy to see on his father’s face, the very idea of picking up little Sarah’s death shroud sickened him, though he put up an argument about it just the same. Once Anders was entrusted with the task by his mother, he would pick up the cloak and on his way home with it, make a wolf cry. It was a regular signal the Wolves used whenever a new member needed their support. But this time it would be a battle cry.  

Anders was about to knock on the cloak maker’s shop when it burst open, a little girl nearly toppled him over as she ran past, her older brother close in pursuit. The pair of them carried wooden swords and battled each other, till the brother let her stab him to the heart (which was really under his armpit) and he dramatically fell to the ground, dead. His sister knelt beside him, with the same dramatic flair and flung her arms to the sky, begging the gods to spare her wicked brother’s life. Suddenly, he sprang to life and together they rolled around in the dirt, laughing hysterically. Their mother shouted for them to stop horsing around as she appeared in the doorway. She looked down at Anders, waiting for him to move out of her way. Then her eyes widened. She recognized him right away as Sarah’s brother. Without saying a word, she squeezed his shoulder and went after her children, ignoring her prior command, a package neatly wrapped and tucked under one arm. 

“Is that young Anders on my doorstep?” The familiar voice of Master Withers relaxed Anders enough to put a smile on his face before he walked into the cloak maker’s shop. 

“It sure is, Master Withers. My mom sent me—” 

“I know, boy. It’s ready to go,” he said, and patted a package wrapped in brown paper, tied with rope. “Be sure you don’t drop it and mind you don’t lose it. Go straight home and give it to your mother, you hear,” Master Withers shouted as Anders grabbed the package and ran out the door. He touched his eyes, wet with tears. He couldn’t very well let Master Withers see him crying or all their planning would’ve been for nothing. 

Once he was a far enough distance away from the cloak maker’s shop, he let out such a howl into the early morning sky that birds perched on tree limbs flew up in fright. As he continued his journey home, he could hear howls, like echoes of his own, signaling the Wolf clan were with him. Following him every step of the way.

Once Anders was within sight of his home, his sister ran out to meet him. “Is that it?” she asked, excitedly. He nodded, though she didn’t wait for his confirmation, she just snatched it from him. “Mother, it’s here,” she shouted, and ran back into the house. “Can I try it on now?” 

Anders stayed outside. He couldn’t bring himself to enter a home filled with the sounds of his sister’s joy. For all the little girls of Elderbay, they were raised to believe being chosen was an honor bestowed upon only one of them every year. They are fed this lie from the moment they are old enough to walk and speak. Of the great things they will learn from grandmother and how the time they will spend with her would be unforgettable. Anders recalled listening to the stories his mother told his sister, Sarah. He used to envy the opportunity he could never have to visit grandmother who lived in the woods. It was only meant for the girls in their village and until he learned the truth, Anders was always jealous. But now he was angry, and he intended on using that anger as fuel to put a stop to grandmother, to the witch, once and for all. 

The journey for his sister wasn’t for another several hours, so he found where the Wolves had been hiding, a safe distance from his home. They were making weapons fashioned from household tools. Anders watched them quietly, and hoped he wasn’t making a huge mistake asking them to risk their lives for him. 

“Is everything alright?” Myers startled Anders with his question, but he shook his head instinctively. He wouldn’t let an inkling of doubt keep him from saving his sister’s life. “Good. You remember the plan, then?” 

Anders nodded but was happy to go over it once more with Myers just to make sure they were ready. “I will follow a safe distance away from my sister and the rest of you will follow behind me. Once the door of the witch’s house opens to her, I’ll force myself inside and start looking for the talisman.” 

“Yes. And remember, it can be anything. Some witches make it something they wear around their necks, others create an altar for it, and some will leave it lying about so no one knows how valuable it truly is.” 

“And all those times you spied on her, you never noticed it?” Anders asked. He had asked this question to Myers before but wasn’t completely satisfied he was told the truth. 

“I didn’t know to look for it then. I told you, I only just discovered this power source that all witches have recently. From an old wives’ tale my mother once told me. All stories parents tell their children hold some truth to them.” 

The Wolf clan talked and plotted until the sun began to set and they heard Sarah shout her final farewell to her mother. In silence, Anders hurried to catch up to her, making sure to keep his distance. He was glad she wore a bright red hood as it made following her easy once the sun completely set, with nothing but moonlight to guide him. And he could feel the presence of the Wolves close by. 

 
To show his willingness to risk his own life rather than put any of the Wolves in danger, he insisted on entering the house first. Promising to call for them once he identified the witch’s talisman and got it away from her. Without it, her powers would not exist, making it easier to defeat her. Myers felt it was a fool’s errand for Anders to go in alone, without any backup. But Anders felt it was the only way and the others agreed. None of them were willing to admit just how frightened they were to go up against grandmother, a witch. 

Anders had never been this deep into the woods before and marveled at how unafraid Sarah seemed to be as she walked through the woods at night. There were moments where she even stopped to pick flowers along the way. And if Anders hadn’t known the fate she was walking into, he might’ve smiled at this. Picking flowers was something his sister loved to do. 

Soon Anders saw smoke billowing into the night sky and knew they had reached the witch’s house. His knees buckled and part of him wanted to call for the now instead of waiting till he was inside the house. What if he couldn’t find the talisman? Or he couldn’t get it away from her? But he knew they were relying on him and his sister, though she didn’t know it, needed him. 

Anders dared to get closer to his sister hoping she wouldn’t sense she was being followed. When she reached the door, she pounded her fist once, twice, three times. Each knock was slow and deliberate. Anders held his breath, waiting for the door to open. He heard a latch release on the other side, then the door swung open. 

“Welcome, my child. Come inside and close the door behind you. I detest the evening night air.” Anders slipped inside unnoticed, the room shrouded in complete darkness. Black as the night and just as cold. Once inside he heard the familiar latch when his sister closed the door behind him and locked it. 

“Good evening, grandmother. I have brought you some bread and herbs. My mother baked the bread and mixed the herbs, but I helped her pack the basket. Is there a candle I might light, grandmother? It is very dark in here.” 

“Over there, child, on the table. Mind you, don’t burn yourself lighting the wick.” Her voice was soothing and caring. Everything their parents had told Sarah she would be like. And for a moment, he wondered if he had made a terrible mistake, believing Myers so easily. 

Anders felt around him in the dark and discovered he was standing beside something taller than he. He continued to feel around quickly as he could hear his sister walking towards the table where a candle waited to be lit. There was a gap between the wall against his back and the tall piece of wood. He was just thin enough to fit and crouch low. 

Suddenly, a candle flickered to life and Anders realized his hiding place was behind a bed. The very bed where grandmother was laying! 

“Come here, my child. My eyes aren’t what they used to be. I want to see you better.” 

Sarah approached the bed. Anders watched, forgetting why he was there. “Oh, grandmother, your hand is so cold,” Sarah said, her hands cupped over grandmother’s. “Shall I start a fire to warm you?” Sarah turned to where there was a fireplace and Anders looked in that direction as well. Right above it, on the mantel, was an ornate walking stick, unlike anything he’d ever seen before. He knew it had to be what he was looking for. 

“Child, will you bring me my walking stick, there, above the fireplace? We shall sit by the fire and talk awhile.” 

NO, Anders thought to himself. He couldn’t let his sister hand that walking stick over to the witch. If she did, his plan wouldn’t work, and they would both be killed. But he waited too long to react, and his sister already had the stick in her hands, walking towards the bed. Seeing no easy way to stop her, he stepped from behind the bed into the light. 

“Anders,” Sarah said, surprised to see her brother, “What are you doing here?” 

“Sarah, hand me that walking stick,” he said, extending his hands. 

“What is this? You brought a boy into my home?” Grandmother flung the covers to one side and swung her feet down onto the floor. 

“I didn’t, grandmother. I had no idea he followed me here,” Sarah pleaded. 

“Quickly, child. Bring me my walking stick so that I may run him out of here.” 

Anders could feel grandmother towering over him. Her shadow, like a giant, cast on the wall behind them and stretched up to the ceiling. He dared himself to look in her direction. Myers warned him against looking her directly in the eyes. He’d seen a trance come upon the girls who looked grandmother straight in the eyes. As if they were unable to think for themselves from that moment on and simply did what grandmother asked of them. She was old, like he expected grandmothers to be. Her face sagged and her hair was long and gray, tied in a bun. The dressing gown and cap she wore seemed too large for her thin and frail body. She wasn’t at all the way Myers had described her to the Wolves. She didn’t seem like much of a witch, at all. And yet, there was something about her eyes, the way they twinkled by the light of the candle, that left Anders’ spine chilled. Her eyes were black as midnight. 

Sarah took another step towards grandmother, avoiding her brother’s stern glare. “Sarah, don’t. Can’t you see, she’s a witch and that’s her power. Give it to me.” 

Grandmother chuckled mockingly at Anders’ words. Then, with a pout on her face, she looked deeply into little Sarah’s eyes and said, “Do I look like a witch to you, my child? Your brother lies. Now bring me my stick, quickly. If I stand on my own any longer, I may topple over.” 

Anders felt grandmother stagger a bit in his direction and he stepped out of the way afraid she might grab for him, but that was his biggest mistake. It was at that moment his sister stepped forward and handed the walking stick to grandmother.  

Once it was in grandmother’s hands the front door swung open and a gust of wind, like a storm, rushed inside. Both children shielded their eyes from the dust that swirled around them. Anders screamed for his sister, then tried to howl for the Wolves to come and rescue them, but the wind was too loud for any sound of help to escape. 

Suddenly, the wind stopped, and the front door slammed shut. All that could be heard in the silence was Sarah whimpering. 

“Why are you doing this, grandmother?” Little Sarah asked. 

“Your sister was right, child. You shouldn’t be here.” 

Nearly a year had passed the morning Myers woke, covered in sweat, from the same nightmare. In fact, it was two days shy of one year. And although he didn’t have this nightmare often, only every now and then, his memory of the fierce winds that surrounded the witch’s house that night, followed by complete silence, terrified him still. The other Wolves ran the moment the wind picked up. But not Myers. He stayed. Frozen in fear at what he hoped would never happen, at least not so soon, to little Sarah and her brother Anders. But what he didn’t know. What he would soon discover once he arrived at Master Withers shop, frightened him even more. 

Myers always visited the cloak makers shop on the day of measuring. It was how he knew who the next chosen girl would be and if she had a brother. He would do as he did with Anders. He would tell him the truth. He would bring him to the Wolves. And together they would be each other’s source of strength for what was to come. 

But this morning was different. This morning, Myers happened upon a husband and wife outside of the cloak makers shop, crying together. It was unusual as they should be keeping up a pretense, at least for their daughter’s sake, while she was being measured for her cloak. They hardly noticed him when he walked past them and peered through the cloak maker’s window. 

Standing in the center of the shop were two children. One boy and one girl. Brother and sister. Both being measured for a bright red cloak. 

THE END

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