I was at home with my wife when we heard the noise start. At first just quiet thumps. Then louder and louder. I had her hide in her room, the door locked.
I grabbed my axe. By then I could smell something off. Something rancid and foul. I shouted, warning the intruder. This was my home and no robber or murder was going to violate it like this.
I tore through the house, screaming for him. No sign of him. And the noise had stopped. The kitchen was empty. The hall was empty. I ran back to our bedroom. The door was open. My wife was dead. My treasure was gone.
That bastard Jack. I had his smell now. Time to hunt.
Great retelling of the story, from the other perspective.
This is excellent; I remember asking my mum when I was small about why it was okay for Jack to go steal the Giant's stuff just because he grew a beanstalk and managed to get up there. Until that plant grew, it was probably the most secure locale in existence. My query: "Isn't stealing wrong?" was usually met with, "Yes, but he was poor, and they needed help." I would point out that so were we, so was it okay if I stole something from some mean guy who had a lot more than we did? That was one of those "This is different, it's just a story... you are supposed to focus on the *moral*, not what actually *happened*" responses.
I never did figure out what the moral was supposed to be. o_O
So anyhoo, this is a wonderful re-imagining of what still seems to me to be a story with a rather skewed moral. Good job. ^^
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