01-08-2021

So I found this old Rewind The Classics Contest and decided to make a story even though the contest was last year. But then I found out the contest is back this year, so I didn't write it for nothing ^^

#rewindtheclassics21 by: WattpadFairytales
Enjoy!

Prompt:
Take a well-known story, be it a fairy tale, fable, myth, epic, legend, classic novel, play, ballet... anything that might be considered a 'classic story' and put an unexpected creative spin on it.

Based on: Hänsel und Gretel (1812)

--- 

"Margaret, hey, Gretel, wake up!" hissed Han, poking his sister in her side. She was grumbling in her sleep, something about warm bread, what they haven't tasted in, like, forever.

"Margaret, she's at it again, come and listen."

Only half awake, Margaret rolled out of bed and followed her brother through the end corridor of their little spaceship.

At it again: that could only apply to their fathers new coworker slash wife. A woman of questionable decency and anything but a mother figure. The twins had known for a while now that the hag was planning to rid herself of them. Less mouths to feed, less responsibility.

They crawled without making a sound until the shrill voice of the woman was heard. It resonated loud enough for them to understand.

"You know I want nothing but the best for those children, I love them like they're my own."

Han snorted and Margaret glared at him. Her finger against her mouth a solid warning for him to shut up.

"But you know as well as I do, that we haven't been able to find anything these past weeks. There are simply too many scavengers and there's too little to salvage. If we don't let them go, we'll all starve."

The sound of Margaret sucking in a sharp breath of air broke the silence, but their stepmother of sorts was too busy pacing, so the sound went unnoticed.

Two identical shocked expressions gazed at each other. Was their situation so dire that they would really starve, should nothing change? By the look of Han's frown, his sister saw he didn't believe any of it, but she had her doubts.

It was true that, ever since the imperial troops ordered companies to clean up their own mess, scavenging has paid off less and less. The rations have been getting smaller these last couple of days, but would their father really throw them out? Why them? Why not that dreadful woman?

The voice of the tall, blond ex-imperial-coworker - they never did find out what had made her quit her job - turned soft, seductive. "Look sweetheart, they're not little children anymore, they know how to make their way in space. We can leave them in their pod when they sleep and who knows, perhaps they get picked up by some benevolent, wealthy benefactor. It could be the best thing that happens to them. Keeping them here would be cruel, don't you agree?"

When she talked like that, it was very hard for their father to refuse, Han knew that for a fact. The crafty woman could be incredibly believable if she tried to be. Once, he had been on the other end of that smooth, silky voice and he had almost given in, almost. The only thing that had kept him from offering up his last piece of valuable tech, was the face of his sister. She had crept behind the woman and had made wild gestures over her shoulders.

The punishment she had received for that, had been severe, but Han had helped her trough it. He would always help his sister, just like she would always be there for him.

---

They moved backwards, until they were back in the escape pod that was attached to the rear of the ship. It contained a small steering console, storage compartments - mostly empty - and enough space for two thin mattresses. The artificial gravity would no longer function, once they were detached from the rear bulkhead.

"We have to stop her." Han said, a stern frown on his forehead.

"How?" Margaret whispered, "you heard her, she plans to do it when we sleep. What can we do, never sleep again?"

"I could rig the controls", her brother stubbornly replied, at which she shook her head in defeat.

"She all but sleeps on the bridge."

For a minute or so, they stared out of the small, circular window overhead. The blackness of space used to be calming, soothing even. Now it only made her heart beat out of control.

As if Han could hear it, he placed a hand on her shoulder. "Don't be afraid, Gretel," he used his pet name for her, "I will figure something out."

---

In the middle of the night, both were barely able to sleep, a loud clanking sound made them sit up straight. This was it. She had done it. That awful woman had managed to talk their own father into releasing them into outer space, without even so much as a goodbye.

Tears clouded Margaret's vision, as around them everything began to float. Han wasted no time, but pushed himself off the wall in the direction of the console. He flipped a small switch and a light began to blink.

"Don't cry, Gretel, I told you I would think of something. This is a tracker. We won't be able to follow them at the same speed, but once they stop at whatever place they're heading, we will catch up."

"And then?" she sniffed, as she saw no real answer to their peril.

Han checked a few readouts of the pings the tracker gave off and then turned her way with a big fake smile plastered on his face. She had to give him credit for trying.

"Dad will be so glad to see us, and guilty, he won't allow her a second time to leave us behind."

He was so sure of himself, she had not the heart to tell him she believed otherwise. Nothing would have changed when they got back. There still wouldn't be enough to eat for them all.

---

It took them two days to catch up to the ship and even though Han was right: their father was thrilled to see them back, Margaret could also see in the eyes of their stepmother, that she would try again.

They made a few salvage runs in the following days, that were good for at least a weeks worth of meals, but after that, the nagging came back.

One afternoon, the twins returned to their pod, only to find it had been completely ransacked. The console was in shambles and all the remaining gear, they had kept in the storage compartments, was gone. There was no doubt as to who had done it, but both knew their word meant nothing in comparison to that of the devious, artful menace that dared to call herself their mom.

That evening they watched how the man that had raised them on his own, after his wife had died, cried silent tears, while breaking off pieces of his own last hump of stale bread and giving it to them. Nobody said a word, even though Margaret had a good mind to yell and claw at the woman, who dared to smile at her.

They didn't go to sleep that night. Instead, Han hastily put together some sort of locator he intended to attach to the ship.

He was halfway through the process of re-calibrating the lineup of an old tracker he dug up in the garbage can, when the familiar, foreboding clanking sound reached their ears.

"Did you do it?"

"Almost." Han's voice was tense, his eyes narrowed. "We have three minutes until they jump, I think ... we can make it."

The second a short beep announced the readiness of the re-calibration, the ship disappeared into the vastness of stars and nebulous gas clouds. Han threw his head back and allowed his body to float in the lack of gravity that surrounded them in their oval pod.

It would only be a few minutes of peace before he would realize that his new tracker failed to do its job and they were truly and utterly lost.

---

With their bellies only marginally filled after their last meal, they floated aimlessly through the inky blackness until, on the morning of the third day, they located a small white beacon. It provided them with coordinates that looked promising.

"Perhaps it's a recruiting vessel?" Margaret sounded hopeful, when they spotted the large, cylinder shaped spaceship.

"I doubt it," Han wondered, there were no marks of the imperial federation anywhere in sight. Only a strange drawing of a triangle on top of a square, decorated with bright little spots that looked a little like the cookies he once saw in an advertisement.

"Do you know what that reminds me of?" Margaret asked, her nose almost stuck to the window. "I once read a story about a brother and sister that were lost on some planet and they found this little house made of candy. It was a really old story. There was a picture of that house and that's what it looks like."

Han merely hummed, his weary eyes on the docking doors that were getting closer and closer, they seemed to be in some kind of tractor beam. "I don't know, Gretel, I don't like this."

"Isn't anything better than dying in space?"

He shrugged, she had a point.

The blackness filled with stars, was soon replaced by a bright cargo hold. Their little escape pod was one of many parts and vehicles that filled the greasy floor. When they stepped outside, feeling heavy after days of being weightless, they were greeted by the one face they had hoped never to see again.

"You!"

Han leaped forward, but was held back by the man that stood as a guard next to his stepmother.

"Welcome to my humble little enterprise, do you like it?"

Margaret was to afraid even to speak, as she eyed the man holding her brother. His broad shoulders bore many scars and one of his eyes was missing, but he hadn't bothered taking an implant. She shuddered and refocused her gaze on the same woman that had been responsible for the detachment from their ship, their father.

Thinking about her father, she suddenly felt enraged and yelled: "What have you done with our father?"

Scornful, the woman waved with her hand, as she answered: "That old goat? He had fulfilled his usefulness."

"You, killed him, you- you- witch!" Han struggled to get free, but he was no match against the bear that held him.

"Of course not, what do you think of me", the woman replied in mock horror. "I merely took what I wanted from him and let him go. I doubt he will last very long on his own, but ... who cares. There are too many little entrepreneurs like him, one less is better for all of us, don't you agree?"

She didn't wait for an answer, but said to her henchman: "Throw him in the bench, we will fatten him up a bit and then he can earn his keep. Take her to my quarters, I am in desperate need for a new cleaning maid."

---

They were separated.

The first few hours Margaret cried and cried, until her eyes hurt. When her new owner came and hit her square in he face, she finally pulled herself together and began cleaning up the spacious rooms that the witch called home.

In the evening, after receiving barely enough food to stay alive, she was placed into a bench next to her brothers, where she would cry some more until she fell asleep.

Day after day, this routine was repeated. Wake up, eat a little, work, eat a little, sleep. In Han's case, the little was more than enough, but he wasn't allowed to share with his sister. She merely had to clean, what waited for him was much worse.

In the bowels of the ship, an engine ran, that could only be worked by strong, healthy workers. It was old, loud and had a foul disposition. Every now and then it would spit out a poisonous haze that could eat a man alive. Margaret knew that when Han was deemed fit enough to work there, she would never see him again.

"Han", she whispered the fourth night, when the back of the henchman was turned to them, "you need to get rid of your food, you can't let them see you're getting stronger." She told them what she had learned of the hungry killer engine and urged him to be careful.

Han took her advice and shoved all the food he could miss into the bench of his sister. Since the henchman was half blind, he didn't notice and when the witch came to check on his state of health, he would cough and hold out a weak arm for her to poke in.

For many days they were able to keep up this ruse, until one day the woman noticed the food behind Margaret's bucket.

Her outburst of terror was heard throughout the entire ship. Full of rage, she pulled Margaret back out of the cage-like box and ordered her henchman to follow with the boy.

They marched down, descending metal stairs after stairs, deeper and deeper into the belly of the beast, until they reached the dreaded engine room.

Margaret was struggling, but her movements were feeble against her captors hold. Han was not faring any better, but his eyes saw more. He noticed the main release valve, that was about to burst. He saw the broken glass of the meter that was suppose to indicate safety levels and he knew. He knew why the previous engine workers had all died.

"If you will not eat, you will have to make do with whatever bit of strength you have left. If you won't work, your sister here will pay, now work!" the witch shrieked.

She pushed Margaret in a corner and ordered her henchman to watch her.

As fast as he could, Han took in his surroundings. The valves and turning wheels on the ancient tubing, the wobbly ladders with half broken rungs. He saw the only exit way and the control panel that could seal the passage. They would only have one chance. There was little time.

"I don't know what I should do", he wailed, motioning with big gestures to the many indicator lights in front of him.

"You idiot boy, you need to watch the levels, heat, pressure."

"Which is which?" He seemingly pressed a random button and a blaring alarm sounded overhead.

"No!" The woman ran towards him and shoved him out of the way. "Is this your so called brilliancy? Your father wouldn't shut up about you. He was a big, fat liar. Push that lever, now!"

Han knew exactly what he had done and also exactly which lever it was that he had to push, yet he deliberately remained frozen, eyes open wide.

The witch yelled to the henchman: "Halfwit, get over there, push the lever, or it will explode with us in it."

The moment the half blind man stumbled to the panel that was just out of reach of the woman's arms, Han ran to his sister, grabbed her hand and pulled her out of the engine room. They had only seconds to spare before one of their captors would notice and follow them, but he managed to close the door and seal it before they even made one step.

He rammed his elbow against the control panel, smashing it to bits, effectively locking the witch and her henchman inside with the engine in a dangerous oven-like stake.

They perhaps had nine minutes, ten tops, before the whole thing would blow.

---

Together they ran through the narrow corridors and up the metal stairs. Han directed them to where he knew the cargo hold was, but Margaret stopped him halfway there. "Wait, her quarters, there is stuff there that's worth a fortune."

"We don't have time", Han objected, but his sister had already run away.

He quickly followed, calculating their precise timing in his head.

Magaret was right, she had had to clean the rooms enough times to know exactly where the witch's priced possessions were. A small safe, tucked under a bunch of rags inside a drawer. Easy enough to carry. Han shoved it under one arm, pulled his sister with the other and led the way to the hold.

Small explosions were comping from directly beneath them when they turned the last corner. The pod lay waiting, but when Margaret ran for it, Han yelled: "No, this one!"

She turned around, saw what he meant and her eyes flew wide open.

"Don't just stand there, the ship's about to blow."

She was barely up the ramp when it began to retract and she hadn't even begun to strap herself in, when Han started the engines and took flight. It was their luck the docking doors were open and while holding their breath, they flew out into the welcoming void.

Less than a minute after they came free of the ship that had been their prison, a huge ball of blinding light flashed behind them. Margaret was afraid to look as they felt the wave of energy hit them.

They made it, they were alive, they were free.

---

There was food aboard the shiny new flier that had probably been stolen from some poor, rich bastard that had been snared by the witch's clutches. But, most importantly, there was a control panel with a communications unit that allowed them to make contact with anyone they wanted. Including the ship their father was, hopefully, still in.

The reunion was bittersweet. With joy, remorse and a flood of apologies that finally made the twins so uncomfortable they begged him never to mention it again. When they cracked open the little safe, they found enough gold to last them a lifetime. They were rich.

But, most importantly: they were together and would never be apart again.