The windows of the shack glowed orange in the night. The flickering candles made the shadows of the forest trees dance around us as we crept up to the wooden hut. A quiet singing could be heard inside the hut, a female's voice that lulled us towards the wooden door. The air was warm, steaming up my wife's glasses. She took them off for the fourth time tonight, giving up and putting them in her pocket as her blonde hair fell down her face.
"Can you even see without those on?" I whispered in her ear, a mistake on my part.
"No," she giggled from my breath in her ear. "But, I can't see if they keep fogging up either."
The long blades of grass brushed against our bare legs as we crept closer and closer. We approached the wooden stairs that led up to the wooden door, debating how to climb them without making a sound. The door creaked open. Light flooded the stairs from the inside of the cabin.
"Oh do come in, my dears." A voice beckoned from inside. "Come in, and make yourselves comfy."
We looked at each other in surprise. Caught. I glanced back, debating an escape attempt. But with my blinded wife and through the thick woods, it didn't seem feasible. We climbed the stairs, creaking our way up. Turning the corner into the shack. The smells of herbs and fruit hit me first, flooding my nose. The interior almost seemed normal, maybe a little old-fashioned. But normal. A small kitchenette and living area share the room in front of me. A large sofa spread out across the floor facing a TV, the walls were lined with bookshelves that seemed to contain quite normal books. Nothing particularly, well, witchy.
Then, the witch rounded the corner. We have all heard stories of the old crones that made their homes in forests and swamps. Kidnapping children to eat and placing charms, hexes and curses on nosey passers. Long grey curly grey hair, a big nose with warts, and sagging pale skin. None of that stood before me. Instead a tall, young girl. A kind, yet mischievous, face covered in freckles. Large, curious green eyes looked us up and down. Red hair was plaited down her shoulders, and feathers and other trinkets were braided in. Her dark clothes were slightly gothic, but nothing extreme that you wouldn't see a teenager wear. Her large, milky white breasts bulged out the top of her black corset and bounced with each step. A small mini skirt left her thighs exposed to the open air until they met her knee-high black socks.
"Hmmm," the witch eyed me. "I think your husband likes what he sees."
I tore my eyes away from the woman before me, glancing at my wife apologetically. But there was no need, she too was enamoured with the woman before her.
"Oh yes, she definitely likes me too." The witch cooed as my wife blushed, looking down.
"We- we would like to claim a wish," my wife muttered.
"Oh really, and what makes you think I will grant such a wish?"
"We hear for the right price, you will grant a wish." I countered.
"Hmmm, well it seems you have caught me in a generous mood. Come, sit with me and we will discuss the terms of this arrangement." the witch bit her lip.