I point out that the witch's eyes are everywhere (Pink Trigger)

"Why, Gretel... no place on this island is truly so remote. After all, the witch's eyes are everywhere. Even here, in a place of worship to the Christian God, Beatrice and her followers are with us."

"You can cut the folklorist act... It's just the two of us here."

This is no act, Gretel... Can't you see it? The fireflies from earlier... they've grown majestic wings. You can see those flapping as they slowly beat through the air. This whole island is the Golden Witch's playground before it is my own. I could tell Gretel was having trouble believing her eyes. I chuckled and reassured her... I wouldn't have led her here to face the witch unless I had a gameplan. I revealed my Pink Trigger pistol and began to load the bullets.

"You gave yourself a weapon like that? Seriously creepy..."

Dammit, can't you compliment me on one part of this route before it's over?! Grumbling, I finished loading the chamber, then spun it shut. As I did, I saw the smirking face of the witch as she lingered by the fireplace. Her dress was just as gorgeous as in the portrait, but her face, far from a composed smile, was a childlike, rude sneer. Ah... How wonderful. You've come to see me yourself, Beatrice.

"You're a folklorist, aren't you, Mister Player? You must be getting pretty stiff right now, seeing a witch in a religious place! Or am I interrupting your time with your kouhai?"

No such thing. I'm honored you've chosen to greet me alone here. It was a foolhardy choice, though. I'm fully prepared to face you down with my Pink Trigger.

"You're jumping the gun, pardon the pun, Mister Player! A witch ought to have a trick or two up her sleeve, riiiight? Beyond that, if you're a folklorist, you ought to know that a witch never fights a battle where furniture will serve! Kyahahaha...!"

Shit. As I watched, other figures began to rise from the pews around us... they were the sisters of the stakes, clad in their red and black uniforms and looking hungry. I didn't have enough bullets for all of them. I began to run through the mental calculus in my head...

When suddenly, a large goat man smashed me in the back with two fists, knocking me to the ground. My pistol slid out of my hands and across the ground, towards the witch. My helplessness seemed to amuse her, as she stepped one foot down atop of the gun, lifting her skirt ever so slightly to do so. "Is this your Pink Trigger? It's cute! Much smaller than I figured it would be!" she chortled, making a show of rubbing her high-heeled slipper against it. "I think I've seen all there is to see. You may dispose of him now!"

Fuck. I'm going to be beaten to **** by a goat in this one.

Gretel knelt by my side with an uncaring expression. "This one was actually really uncool. I thought you'd at least take out one of the Sisters. I'm your aide, right? What's going to happen to me once they kill you?"

Beatrice grinned, producing her golden pipe and tapping it up and down a few times. "That aging foreigner will be a nice snack for the goats... I'll let the sisters have you! You're a much higher quality meal, fit for higher quality furniture!"

"Gee... Thanks..." Gretel sighed.

I tried to put on a cool smile as I ignored my fractured spine. Don't worry, Gretel. You'll never have to worry about dying in this story of mine.

But I will! I screamed in pain as several goat men joined in, kicking and hammering me with punches until all of the life was beaten out of me.