It happened so fast he couldn’t move. With a slam of her fist, Branch was launched up into the air, and snatched before he even started to drop in a tight furry grip. Inside the fist Branch was swung around until he was slammed back onto the table, this time facing King Gristle Jr.
“There's’ only one way- My Way! With me in charge, I’ll serve you Troll every day of the year! With me as Queen, life will be a never-ending Feast of happiness!”
Chef hit King Gristle's’ head and like a reflex, his mouth opened and his tongue rolled out, pointing in front of Branch like a gray runway. Branch jumped, the horror of what Chef wanted to do to him hitting his legs before his mind. Turning fast he scrambled for the end of the table, but a huge knife slammed in his way, making Branch backtrack, unstable, right onto the tongue.
“No, no no!” Branch gasped out, turning around and staring into the dark mouth of the Bergen king. A flash and his mouth was replaced with the mouth of the large purple creature that ate the spiders. Then suddenly he was back and closer to the inside of Gristle's’ mouth. “No don’t!” he tried to roll, to get up, to crawl away but the wet tongue was now sticky and he couldn’t move. He looked around for anything to help and noticed the large goblet on the table. It wouldn’t unstick him but not even a Bergen could eat metal. He reached inside himself and swung his now blue again hair to the goblet, it growing longer as he did. But when it reached, his hair missed.
“What? Oh come on!” he tried again but his hair missed again. He got ready for another try when CHOP.
“ARGH!” Branch's’ head snapped down onto the sticky tongue, his unbelieving eyes zeroed in on his long blue hair falling to the table. He watched the knife that cut it rise, his terrified reflection looking back at him, showing him his shorter hair. Then, before his very eyes, he watched as the cut hair lost it's bright blue color and, in slow motion, turned back to the black it had been for the last 20 years.
“Come on, Eat! EAT!” Chef yelled and Branch’s eyes snapped back to the King’s mouth. His panic was now so strong that words failed the Troll, and all he could do was yell. He was going to be eaten alive. He was going to die.
Just like Grandma Rosiepuff.
Branch snapped up in his bed, his blurry sleepy eyes wide, his heart racing in his chest. Panting so hard it hurt, Branch rubbed his eyes and looked around, his eyes moving as fast as a lightning bug. He was in a small room, lit only by the small round window over his head. There was a small dresser drawer, a nightstand with a lamp, and a toy chest at the foot of the twin sized bed.
Branch breathed out a shuddering sigh and ran a hand through his hair, long again, all there, and blue. “That’s what I get for insisting to sleep in my old bedroom.”