chapter 2

The front room of the little cottage was comfortably furnished with two ancient-looking, squashy chairs along with an overstuffed couch surrounding a fireplace. On the far wall, an extraordinarily faded and dusty oil painting depicted what appeared to be a royal feast, and a small bookshelf held several deteriorated tomes with inscrutable titles.

Just off the front room was the largest room in the cottage: the dining room. A large black wood stove stood against one wall; next to it, a large sink had been retrofitted. In the middle of the room was stationed a surprisingly long mahogany table with elaborately engraved girthy legs. Surrounding the table were several sturdy and heavy dining chairs with intricate engravings. Although large windows in the room cast the room in a cheerful glow, the glass panes were so warped and fogged over that no details from the clearing outside could be made out clearly.

In the back of the cottage was the bedroom. A large antique bed was covered with a plush blanket stitched with an elaborate geometric design. At the head of the bed were several large, fluffy pillows. On the wall hung a floor length mirror and adjoining the bedroom was a small, but functional water closet.

It was quickly evident from the layers of dust that no one had lived in this cottage for many, many years, and the boys decided to spend a few nights here. It wouldn’t possibly hurt anything, and besides, they agreed, they could do some light cleaning and make the place more liveable for future travelers.

After exploring for a few more minutes, Greg noticed that they had left the front door slightly ajar; they must have left it open in their haste to explore inside the cottage. He grasped the heavy handle, admiring the fine details of the iron work, and pushed the door firmly shut.

No sooner had the door latched shut, there was a sudden change in the air pressure and bright bold letters appeared on the inside of the front door, written in a strange thick script, as though the author had been determined to use an excessive amount of ink to get their point across. Startled by the sudden appearance of the words, Greg stepped closer and read the following:

Hail, hungered traveler for thy cry is heard!
Against my door thou didst say the word.

For no stranger may pass this house by,
And want for bread, or lips be dry.

I shall feed them all, the rich the poor,
All who hunger and lean upon my door.

Fill thy belly full, with loaves and cream,
Honey, fruit, and pies that gleam.

Six times per day shall my table fill,
With a feast most bounteous and plentiful.

Ration not, for in this thy is thy quest!
To unlock my door thou must pass this test.

For this door shall be sealed until all inside,
Have grown in girth and are plenty wide.

And in this house thou shalt remain,
Until a well fed body thou hast gained.

Thou wilt carry upon you an ample supply,
A fleshy proof of feasts gone by,

And when this test, most peculiar, thou pass,
This door shall open, free passage at last,

But of this warning, thou must take heed:
Thou must comply or trapped thou’ll be!

Traveler thou mayest choose thy pathway then,
To free thyself or remain forever thin.