Fatal Escape

So this is a twist on the classic story of Hansel and Gretel, and it is far from the story that you all remember.

  

War, has never been illuminated with a positive light. When we speak of it, it seems to be spat from our lips, as if it leaves a bad taste in our mouths. It leaves a dark charcoal stain on the pages of history, charring itself into the memories of all that witnessed its insidious existence, as well as their descendants after them. Stories of the horrors that were witness have been passed down through the years, to serve as a warning that war is never honourable or righteous.

However, the most chilling story from the second world war is not one that you would expect. It is not a tale of someone drowning in their own blood, clutching at the air as death slowly overcomes them. It is not about the atom bombs that incinerated thousands of people in the blink of an eye, leaving nothing but their shadows etched on the walls. This story is about two children that got lost in the woods, and the horrors that they found there.

This is the story of Hansel and Gretel.

However, at the mention of their names do not fall prey to the naïve belief that this is the light hearted story that you are familiar with. This is not the story that your parents told you, which reflects the candy coated façade that that prevalent in it.

This is what really happened all those years ago.

 

 

This story begins as most war stories do, in the rain.

It poured down from the sky, lashing at the earth mercilessly and any water that fell to the earth was cold and lifeless, leeching the warmth from everything that it touched. The clouds were thick and black, writhing in the sky and failing to pause as lightning raked the air. A harsh wind whipped across the ground, making the grass flail as it passed by.

As the world was illuminated with a bright flash of light, three bodies dropped to the ground fearing that they would be seen. Their faces pressed down into the mud as the lightning exposed them before the world plunged back into rumbling darkness. The smallest lifted her head first, her hair and face slicked with cold grime. Second to lift their head was a small boy, his eyes wide and bright with fear as the world lit up again, the air crackling with pent up energy. The last to raise his head was a middle ages man, his weary eyes flicking over the tops of the grass, searching for unseen shadows. A booming rumble ripped through the air, deafening them with its yell before the man grabbed the hands of the children and pulled them to their feet.

They started to run, darting between the patches of grass and heading towards the lip of a large looming forest. Their feet squelched in the slippery mud and more than once the man had to pull up one as light seared across their bodies and a whistle cut the shriek of the thunder. The man cursed, his eyes widening with terror as he pulled the children back to their feet.

“Run!” He bellowed, pulling them towards the darkness of the woods.

The bellows of dogs started to ring through the air and the man pulled them to the trees. Mud grabbed at their shoes, weighing them down like cement but they pressed on. The barking of the dogs got louder and the little girl screamed in terror as they leapt through the lip of the trees and into the forest.

The forest was shrouded with thick blackness and was only illuminated with each flash of lightning giving everything a harsh glow. Fractals of light bounced around the forest like a jagged edge for only a second before dropping them back into the dark. They wound through the trees, branches snagging their clothing and stinging their faces. The aggressive howls of the dogs started to wane, but the man knew that they were going to be coming their way, and soon.

  He stopped in front of a large tree, its bark cracked and etched with age. He scooped up the little boy and placed him on the lowest branch, looking up at the boy as rain streamed down his face as tears.

“Climb,” He said harshly, his voice breaking.

The little boy nodded, tears flooding from his eyes as he grabbed hold of the next branch up and pulled himself higher. Then the man scooped up the little girl and she wailed loudly, grabbing her father around the neck.

“No daddy, don’t leave us here,” The little girl sobbed. “Come with us.”

The man smiled sadly, stroking the girls messy hair with his hand before loosening her arms from his neck. “I will always be with you my love,” He cooed, making the thunderstorm ebb away behind him. He kissed her forehead and closed his eyes, his body shuddering as he fought back a barrage of sorrow.

The little girl sobbed, her lips quivering before her father lifted her up and placed her on the lowest branch. He looked up at the boy, clutching at the bark that was higher in the tree. “You take care of her Hansel.”

“I will papa,” the boy said, his mouth set as a hard edge. For a boy that was only twelve, he faced what was happening with a brave intensity.

“I will lead the dogs away, and you are to wait here until you are sure that everything is safe. Climb high in the tree so that the soldiers won’t see you,” Their father said. He placed his hand over his heart, as if it were paining him, his fingers covering the yellow star that was sewn over it. “I love you both so much.”

Then he turned on his heel and disappeared into the trees. The girl yelled after him, her fingers clawing the air in front of her as her father disappeared into the night. Tears stung her eyes and her body heaved as her brother climbed down next to her. They both looked up as the barking of the dogs intensified.

“We have to climb higher Gretel,” He said grabbing her hands and towing her up the tree.

“Papa,” The girl sobbed, her eyes scouring the darkness for her father.

“I know, but we have to climb now,” Hansel said, tugging at her again. “Or they are going to find us.”

Gretel turned, slowly climbing higher in the tree as her tears blinded her. She struggled as the immense weight of their loss dragged them down and Hansel reached down and grabbed her hand pulling her higher. When they reached a dizzying height they stopped, resting on the branches and letting their feet dangle. They hung off of the tree like raindrops, looking out over the world that they were trying so desperately to escape.

Their father had picked one of the tallest trees in the forest, and they could see the field that they had crossed through and the small town beyond it. The small town that had once been welcoming and warm, had very suddenly gone dark. It had been painted with red and black, and they had been branded with a yellow star when their neighbours were left alone. Gretel looked down at the yellow star that was on her shirt, unable to understand what it all meant. How was the star or David so horrible that it caused people to spit and sneer at them as they walked through the street? Why did it force them to leave their home and flee into the forest? Had one little star been the reason that her mother never came home?

Gretel closed her eyes, trying to banish the thoughts from her mind. She could feel her brothers presence behind her and she leaned towards him. He hugged her quickly, trying to comfort her and himself at the same time and failing miserably. They sat motionless, looking out over the grey world that had rejected them before the loud barks of dogs echoed up towards them.

Hansel looked down, his eyes widening with horror as he spotted the small brown shapes dancing around the tree beneath them. He pressed his sister into the trunk of the tree, shielding her with his body. The brown mud that covered their clothing blended with the withered bark of the tree, shielding them from the prying eyes below. Between the branches, Gretel could see men in green uniforms, their faces peering up towards them but their blind eyes seeing nothing. Their eyes never saw anything, not the suffering of people or the horror of their actions, all they saw was evil.

The one that was in charge kicked at one of the dogs making it yelp loudly and snarl. He cursed and turned to the other soldiers pointing to the forest and screaming orders making them scuttle into the trees. Two of the three dogs peeled off and followed the soldiers while the third stayed below the tree, peering up through the wet branches. Hansel and Gretel stayed completely motionless, watching with wide eyes as the man circled the tree below them. The dog that stayed with him barked and snarled, knowing that the children were there but unable to point out their location.

Hansel looked up and gasped quietly, making his sister look up as well. Far in the distance they could see that a body had emerged from the other side of the forest and was running away from some unseen foe. Gretel’s heart lurched as she realized that it was her father, and Hansel’s muscles tightened around her. Their father ran, crossing the area in front of him with great speed, but that wasn’t fast enough.

He was trying to outrun his death, and it was coming for him on swift paws.

Two small brown shapes darted out of the forest after him, crossing the ground with aggressive agility. The dogs caught up with him in a matter of seconds and collided from behind, dragging him down to the ground. The man struggled visibly as the dogs latched onto him, pulling at him with their teeth. Gretel could hear the crunch of flesh and bone in her mind and her stomach churned, but she was unable to look away.

The two soldiers took their time to come from the forest, walking at a slow pace as their father fought a losing battle with the dogs. His screams took a moment to reach the children that were sitting in the tree and the sound slashed at their ears. Hansel cried quietly, watching as the dogs grabbed flesh and pulled, tearing their father apart piece by piece. When the soldiers finally got to him, they called off the animals and their father was still. Hansel was too far away to see the detail, but he had seen death before and now it wore the face of his father.

He could see him, lying in the mud as his blood mixed with the rain. His flesh mottled and torn, blood leaking from his lips as he screamed. Faceless soldiers, looming over him, their eyes filled with unfeeling death as they drew their guns. Focusing their sights on his forehead and calling the dogs away so they wouldn’t accidentally get shot. His father lying helplessly on the ground, shuddering as the cold hands of death gripped him making him freeze from the inside. The flick of the revolver action, before he stared down the barrel of the gun, welcoming what was coming next.

Motionless, the soldier stood for a second, his pistol trained on their father before there was a flash of light and their father flipped on the ground. As they watched helplessly, the pistol flashed again and the sound reached the children, cracking at their ears like a whip. The second gunshot stabbed at their ears and Gretel sobbed forgetting about everything for a second as she was overwhelmed by grief.

It was swiftly overcome by terror as the loud barking of the dog at the base of the tree as Gretel clamped her hand over her mouth. Both of the children shared a terrified glance, Hansel’s eyes glaring. Then, ever so slowly, their gazes drifted downwards and were met by the angry glare of the soldier.

He could see them.

The soldier sneered and grabbed at his pistol raising it towards them before an explosion filled the air, deafening the children. Something roared in Gretel’s ears as the gun went off a second time making the world flash around them. Hansel’s hands loosened around her and suddenly she was plummeting towards the ground. A branch hit her side, hard, and spun her like a top in the air. Another snatched her wrist and pulled sharply, snapping loudly before she slammed into the ground.

The dog was in a frenzy, leaping towards her and snapping, froth billowing from its mouth. Its teeth closed in front of her face as a loud voice rung through the forest, calling the dog away. Gretel gasped, unable to move as her eyes met the cold steely glare of the soldier. His pistol was still in his hand, spitting spoke in its rage as he trained it on her.

“Filthy Jew,” He spat in thick German, a sneer twisting his face. “Would you like to see your father now?”

Then the gun rocked in his hands, filling the air with noise and light. Gretel closed her eyes, certain that she was dead. At first she felt nothing but buzzing in her ears, but then a raindrop hit her face, making her flinch. She opened her eyes, blinking away water as she looked up, and saw the soldier lying on the ground, his hand pressed against his ear. When he pulled his hand away it was stained bright red, and he looked up at the person that had struck him with surprise and rage.

The woman had appeared out of nowhere, and it wasn’t hard to see why. She was completely clad from head to toe in dark black material. In her right hand she held a long cane, which she was twisting absently in her hands. Her face was light and sharp cheekbones jutted out from under her eyes which glared with fierce intensity. As her eyes fell on the star on Gretel’s chest a smile flickered across her face before she looked down at the guard with a sneer.

“What do you think that you are doing?” She snarled, raising her cane to strike the soldier again and making him flinch.

“I was ordered to dispatch of this filth,” The soldier muttered getting back to his feet. “They tried to escape.”

“Well I am going to give you a new set of orders now,” the woman spat, placing the end of her cane onto his throat. “You are going to leave these fine specimens with me, and that will be the end of it.” She leaned onto the cane, putting pressure on his throat and making him cough loudly. “Are there any questions? No? Good.” She pulled her cane away and swept around the man before standing next to Gretel. “Now you be a dear and fetch the boy while I make sure that this little one is alright. Don’t hurt him, just bring him here.”

The woman knelt down slowly, a warm smile on her face as she looked over Gretel. She very slowly reached out to touch Gretel’s wrist and the little girl flinched and started to cry. At that she cooed, as if Gretel was a small baby that needed to be comforted.

“It is alright my dear, I am not going to let anyone else hurt you,” The woman said soothingly. “Just let me see what hurts.” Very gently she grabbed hold of Gretel’s arm and lifted the sleeve to look. Gretel could do nothing more than cry as she saw that her wrist had been bent to an odd angle and painted with dashes of black and blue. The woman looked at it for a moment before putting her arm down gently. As she did so her hand brushed the base of Gretel’s rib case making the little girl yelp. The woman’s eyes narrowed as Gretel tried to squirm away weakly.

“Alright, now don’t you worry little one, I am going to fix everything that is wrong with you.” The woman smiled. “I am going to make it all better. I promise you.”

Her head snapped up as the soldier appeared with Hansel dangling from his left hand, the dog dancing around his heels. Hansel’s left sleeve was soaked with dark red, but still he struggled violently. The soldier snarled and slapped the boy sharply across the face, snapping his head back on his neck.

The woman leapt to her feet with a roar and raised her cane above her head. “I told you not to hurt him!” She boomed, making Hansel look up in dazed confusion. “Now get out of here before I give you the beating that you deserve!”

The soldier looked at her as if he had just tasted something foul before he straightened and grabbed hold of the dog. “I am not going to hesitate to report you, mark my words.” The man snarled, “When they hear about this you are going to be through.”

“I don’t care if you approve of my methods,” The woman retorted, “I cannot let you waste two perfectly healthy specimens. If I had gotten here sooner they would be undamaged.”

The soldier frowned and looked down at Hansel, looking as if he were about to strangle the boy, before he yanked on the dogs leash making the animal yelp. Then he plodded off into the forest before the rain shrouded his departure.

The woman looked at Hansel, a worried look stretched across her face. “Can you walk?” She asked. Hansel looked her up and down, his eyes untrusting before he nodded slowly.

“Good, because your sister needs to be carried,” The woman said, “and I cannot help you both.”

“Why are you doing this?” Hansel asked as the woman slowly and gently worked her arms underneath Gretel. Then she smoothly straightened and scooped the little girl off of the ground.

“Because you two deserve better than to be executed, you are part of a much bigger plan,” The woman explained her eyes flashing. “I do not believe that life should be wasted, and that we all have so much more potential.”

Hansel’s eyes narrowed, still unwilling to trust the woman, but then his eyes fell on his small injured sister. She looked so frail in the woman’s arms, as if she were about to snap in half, and that broke Hansel inside. It was his fault that she had fallen, as he had let her go when the second shot tore through the upper part of his arm. No matter how much he didn’t trust the woman, there was nothing he could do about it. Gretel needed help and he didn’t know where else she would be offered help.

“Thank you,” He said flatly.

The woman nodded and without a word she turned and walked into the trees, Gretel’s legs dangling over her arms like twigs. Hansel plodded along behind her, looking around as shadows darted between the trees. They walked for a long time, and Hansel’s body started to feel heavy and his eyelids started to droop. When the woman finally stopped Hansel felt as if he was about to drop to the ground. He peered around the woman to see a quaint looking little cottage resting in a bed of trees.

The woman walked towards the door and pushed it open before ushering Hansel in. He walked through the door, shuffling his feet as he was about to pass out. He glanced around, seeing nothing out of the ordinary before he felt a pair of hands fall gently onto his shoulders. He flinched, sending a bolt of lightning into his brain making him gasp. The woman frowned, looking at the blood that had soaked his shirt before leading him over to a bed and laying him down on it.

The bed was soft a plush and smelled of freshly mowed grass. Hansel felt as if he could sink into the bed forever as he rested his weary head on the pillow. His eyes started to droop and he could feel the sleeve of his shirt cut away as the woman carefully removed it. Then a needle plunged into his arm and he started to feel dizzy.

“I don’t want to sleep,” He said groggily.

The woman just grinned, her eyes flashing as Hansel’s dropped slowly closed.

“You are safe here,” she said. “Sleep.”

Then Hansel closed his eyes and dropped into a drug induced dream.

 

 

When he opened his eyes again, he thought that he was trapped in a nightmare.

The wooden walls of the cottage had been replaced with cool metal slabs, studded with hooks and pins. Hanging from each hook was a medical instrument, each of them made for ripping, cutting, tearing and breaking. The bed that he had been laying in had been replaced with a cold metal table, that held his wrists and ankles in place with strong leather straps. His clothes were all gone, exposing him to the harshly cold air like a seed ripped from its shell. One of his eyes was blinded by a sheet of thick gauze, smothering half of his vision.

His head spun thickly in his skull, making him feel incredibly ill as he looked around the room. He felt as if he were about to vomit, and he wretched his whole body heaving but nothing escaped his mouth. The feeling failed to recede and he wretched again, his eyes watering with the effort. Then with horror he realized that he was unable to vomit because something was protruding from his mouth. As he looked down he could see the end of a thick tube jutting out between his lips and when he moved he could feel it writhing in his oesophagus. His stomach churned and heaved again, making Hansel buck on the table like a wounded horse.

Tears flowed down his face and he wanted nothing more than for it to stop before he heard a chuckle behind him.

“I see that you are finally awake,” The voice of the woman tinkled like a bell. She stepped into his line of view and he could see that she was now dressed in a white pair of scrubs, smeared with dark red splotches where she had wiped her hands carelessly. A clipboard was supported in the crux of her arm and a large black swastika was emblazoned on the right side of her chest. Hansel’s stomach dropped into his feet as the woman locked him with her steely glare, unwilling even to blink as she stared at him. The area behind her eyelids blazed with hellfire and as she grinned he expected a forked tongue to flick in his face.

“Guuuurgh,” Hansel said, trying to speak. “guuurhgh!”

“Oh hush, I was worried that you weren’t going to wake up.” The woman cooed flicking a strand of hair out of his face.

Hansel’s eye widened and he thrashed on the table, trying to pull free from his bonds. “Oh, come now boy don’t be so melodramatic. You are going to be a part of a huge scientific discovery! You two are going to be the start of a new era! Just think, you and your sister’s combined traits will make the perfect being. With her blue eyes and your blonde hair, I shall create what is to be desired in the new world.”

Hansel stopped, feeling as if he had been stabbed in the chest with an ice pick. He looked at the woman as the piece of gauze on his face became painfully obvious. He bit down on the tubing and started to sob, as he realized what was happening.

“Yes, Hansel.” The woman cooed, “It is already half over. I would have liked to keep your sister, but she is too weak to recover from this, and has taken to making an ungodly amount of noise. Do not worry, I will put the little wretch out of her misery soon enough. The woman cocked her head to the side, a smile flickering across her lips. “Would you like to see her before it happens?”

Hansel screamed loudly, his voice muffled by the tubing that clogged his throat as the woman grinned widely. “I am glad that you approve. I am going to go get your sister so that you two can have your last goodbyes.” She stood and Hansel continued to scream, arching his hack and pulling at the straps that bit mercilessly into his skin.

They had been tricked. 

They were the guinea pigs in some sadistic experiment, and it was going to cost his sister her eyes.

He roared at the ceiling, trying desperately to be free of his bonds before he heard something that froze his veins into ice. He turned his head, looking for the source of the sound as the woman opened the door, dragging in a metal gurney. Strapped to the gurney, wailing to the sky was Gretel.

Her fragile body was strapped to the unforgiving metal, and her limbs were bent at unnatural angles underneath her. Her mouth was open and her voice was raised into a high wail, brimming with pain and confusion. She turned her head towards him, her one blue eye fixing onto his. It was filled with terror and agony, streaming tears down her wounded face. Her other eye socket was empty and dark, and cracked dried blood caked her cheek beneath it.

“Hansel help me!” She wailed, “It hurts Hansel please!” The little girl sobbed, shattering Hansel inside. He felt sick and horrified as the image of his little sister forever burned itself onto his retinas.

“What a happy reunion,” The woman laughed, appearing behind Gretel with a hammer and a long metal spike in her hand. “I hate to cut it short.”

Then Gretel’s voice raised into a scream as the woman grabbed her by the face, securing her head to the table so that Gretel couldn’t move. Gretel could do nothing but wail, and watch with her one remaining eye as the spike was lowered down towards the empty socket beside it. Hansel bellowed, his voice cut by the harsh tubing as the woman raised the hammer and struck the spike, sinking it into Gretel’s brain.

The little girl’s scream drowned in her throat, as the woman slowly pulled the bloody spike away with a sickening squelch. Hansel roared, his voice hoarse with sorrow and hatred as the woman put the tools down on a table behind her.

“Now isn’t that better?” She smiled, looking down at the little girl. Then, ever so slowly, Gretel nodded lowering her head on her neck.

Hansel stopped struggling and watched in horror as his sister continued to move. The woman grinned at his reaction. “Oh no, I didn’t kill her Hansel. I merely removed all of her thoughts. Now she will hold nice and still for her procedure, as will you.”

Hansel’s heart seized in his chest as the woman grabbed a scalpel and looked down at the body that once held the mind of his little sister. “Now, would you like me to take the other one?” The woman cooed. The girl slowly nodded, making Hansel drown in sickness.

The woman smiled and Hansel turned his head as she lowered the scalpel to the girl’s eye. There was a groan and the sounds of ripping flesh and Hansel wretched, unable to believe what was happening. When he looked back, his sister was staring blindly back at him, her eyes empty and lifeless. Blood streamed down her face, and a smile played across her lips as her head turned to face him.

“Your turn Hansel,” she giggled.

Hansel heaved and vomited on the floor as the woman grabbed his head and secure it to the table so he was looking at the ceiling. All he could see was his sister’s empty eye sockets as the woman loomed over him. He gasped loudly, the air hissing around the tubing in his throat as she smiled at him. The spike loomed over his face, glistening with his sister’s blood as it inched closer and closer to his eye.

“Relax,” The woman purred, “this only hurts for a moment. Then you will see things my way. Isn’t that right sweetie?”

She was answered by a giggle from Gretel. Hansel was going to be sick and he felt as if his heart was about to explode. The cold metal spike passed next to his eye, lighting his brain with agony. He opened his mouth and screamed as the hammer loomed over his face, before coming sharply down.

The last thing he heard was the woman snicker and say, “You are going to be beautiful.”

 

 

When Hansel opened his eyes, he could neither see nor move. Everything around him was crushing darkness, and he could do nothing but scream. He yelled at the top of his lungs, pounding the dark with his fists to no avail. He screamed, for his father, his sister and himself trying desperately to escape the darkness that came after him at every turn.

He was trapped.

And as the boy screamed in the prison of his mind, his body stood facing a mirror looking at his reflection. His clothes had been replaced with white scrubs with a large black swastika emblazoned on the chest, and the woman stood in front of him admiring her work.

All the boy could so was stare back with dead eyes. 

Author's Note

Let me know if you liked it, or hated it, or did not care for it, or felt nothing at all because you have been desensitized by television these days, I love to hear from all of you! Also credit for the image goes to otterluver on deviantart.com.

Reviews

[Nusquam Esse]

This is a solid story, mixing two very different ideas and tales which seem worlds apart, into a single coherent horror story. Just a couple things of note here; #1 millions of people didn't die in the atomic bombings, it was a couple hundred thousand... sorry to nitpick it, but it really stood out to me. Next, in the second paragraph of the actual story, you really overuse 'The', it starts every sentences, and I think it would be improved if you were to restructure it so you didn't need 'the'. And finally, you have some good and creative metaphors in here, it really gives your work a creative and unique voice; however, I think there were parts in which you OVERUSED them, to the point that they felt contrived and unnatural. I recommend doing a copy-edit, strip out all adjectives and adverbs, and re-examine your choices which you used. They are strong tools, but excessive use can make a story feel superficial.

[Darkimmortal]

First of all thank you for the comment! I really need people that will actually give me some creative feedback. Also, I try really hard not to overuse words but they manage to sneak in there so I will definitely give that a good look at, and I will also be sure to change that piece of inaccurate information. But, I am confused as to how metaphors and descriptions can be overused, as i was always taught that more is always better. If you wouldn't mind pointing out a specific paragraph or something in general where this is made clear, then I will understand where you are coming from. Thanks again for the feedback!

[Nusquam Esse]

The idea that descriptive speech is always for the best is a common misconception. There is power in direct and simple words, as well in the use of silence or hanging words. It is ideal to strike up a balance between them. If you focus too much on descriptions which are not actually necessary to craft a mood or to convey a particular point, it will make your writing ramble. So the use of adjectives, adverbs, similes, and metaphors should be carefully considered in how they contribute to pacing and atmosphere. I have had people make complaints about some of my stories for the very same issue; and upon going through and cutting out certain parts which did not fulfill a particular purpose, I found that my story was leaner, had a stronger flow to it, and the impact of the lines which DID MATTER stood out more. If every line has a metaphor or simile, then they are not going to stand out when you do use them. I was not really focusing on anything in particular, it was just a vibe that I got while I was reading. But looking through it, it seems to be most prominent on your first paragraph (the one I mentioned earlier). Many of the sentences, and their metaphors, could be combined to make them flow better and to build an atmosphere without rambling too much.

[Nusquam Esse]

Don't worry too much about the whole metaphor thing, just consider it when you are writing and proofreading. We all have our own styles of writing, and as I said, it gives your writing a unique voice. Just keep in mind that our strongest tools will have more power when we use them with purpose.

[Darkimmortal]

Actually now that you have pointed it out I can see what you are talking about. I will do my best to make the appropriate adjustments. Thank you so very much for your detailed and very helpful feedback! :)

[Nusquam Esse]

No problem, it is difficult to look at your own work from a different perspective. That is what makes having other people so helpful.

[Old Heathen]

Great twist on Hansel & Gretel. You use just enough description to create great images but not make them feel like info dumps which can break up a story. I look forward to reading more of your work. The darkness and gruesomeness is refreshing in this world of glittering vampires.

[Darkimmortal]

Thank you so much! I am glad that you enjoy the macabre twists I like to put on things, and i wholeheartedly agree that vampires which are creatures of the night, were never ever meant to glitter.