I've always hated stories that begin with "Once upon a time..." and end with "And they lived happily ever after." So I'm gonna retell those fairytales. My way. Sit back, relax, and listen if you'd like. Or feel free to walk out the door. I won't be offended, I promise. Oh, wait. There's a storm brewing outside. I suppose you better stay here until it ends. Grab some cookies from my magical cookie jar. Take as many as you want. It magically replenishes it self. Now, let's start the story...
Little Red Riding HoodEdit
The forest was unnaturally silent. Scarlet glanced around warily, turning around in order to make sure that she wasn't being followed. She knew that her red cloak stood out like a beacon in the shadowy depths of the densely packed trees. She had considered not wearing it, but it had become a vital part of her identity. Not wearing it would be like cutting her arm off.
She whipped around at the sound of a branch cracking. It took her less than a second to pull out her gun. She gripped it tightly, eyes alert, as she scanned for what had caused the disturbance, but relaxed when she saw that it was just a squirrel. She briefly considered shooting it, just for good measure, but decided against it. The noise would attract too much attention, and she had to finish this mission as swiftly and stealthily as possible.
Scarlet started to turn around, but froze when she felt the barrel of a gun pressing into her back.
"Well, look what we have here," a voice remarked, amused yet deadly. It has an eerie resemblance to a wolf's growl. It chilled Scarlet's blood. She knew who she was facing. And the odds were most certainly not in her favor.
"What do you want, Micheal?" she asked through gritted teeth. She hoped that he couldn't hear how fast her pulse was racing.
She could almost hear his smile. "Oh? Is that my name now? I thought that my name was 'Wolf'. You shouldn't get too ahead of yourself, Red Riding Hood. Now, let's see what you're carrying in that basket of yours. Is it a message for Grandma, perhaps...?"
"It's none of your business!"
"Oh, but I believe it is. After all, you're carrying information concerning SAI, aren't you?"
Scarlet's eyes widened. "What makes you think that?" she replied, struggling to keep her voice even.
"Your contact, or should I say, Grandma, told me, naturally. He required some...persuading, but in the end he broke. They always do. Now, hand me that basket and perhaps I'll spare you a slow and torturous death."
Scarlet slowly turned around. She made as if to give the basket to him, but pulled out her gun at the last minute. She pointed it at him, her fingers trembling. "Don't make me shoot you," she warned, but her voice came out shakily.
Wolf threw back his head and laughed. "What makes you think you can kill me? You don't have what it takes to be a killer. I can see it in your eyes."
"Is that so?" Scarlet replied softly. She stared into those wolf-like eyes of his. And pulled the trigger.
Wolf yelped in pain, holding a hand to his bleeding leg. For a brief second, his eyes met hers. They were the eyes of a killer.
Scarlet flung off her cloak and fled. She concentrated only on escaping, ignoring the branches that snagged onto her clothes and scraped her face. She ran until she could run no longer, and even then she continued running. Only one thing kept her moving. It was pure fear. Everytime she wanted to stop and rest, she saw his eyes. And she kept running. Finally, she reached a river. It was too wide to jump across, and too dangerous to swim across. She couldn't run back, and to the sides there was a fence topped with barb wire. There was no way out.
Wolf caught up with her easily. He glared at her, his eyes filled with hatred. He raised his gun, cocking it at her. "One move, and I'll shoot you dead," he growled. "And I'm not lying when I say that I'll enjoy it. You've given me a lot of trouble, Red Riding Hood. It's been fun playing with you, but now?" He grinned, sadism evident in his voice. "Now, you die."
There was a loud bang as the gun went off.
Scarlet slowly walked over to where he lay on the ground, eyes staring unblinkingly up at the sky. "Who can't kill now?" she asked quietly. She kicked his body into the river, and watched as the water carried it away. Then she turned and walked off into the blood-red sunset.
Lips red as blood, skin white as snow, and hair black as night.
I'm sure that you've all heard the fairytale about Snow White. And it's just that - a fairytale that I spun in order to keep my subjects quiet. Who am I to talk, you ask? Why, I'm Snow White, naturally.
My parents took unoriginality to a whole new level when they named me Snow White. I would have been perfectly content with the name Lilit, or Leila, but no, they just had to name me Snow White. My mother, the queen, died shortly after my eighth birthday - she had excellent timing . No one was surprised, really. My mother was a sickly woman - never did like eating her vegetables. Wasn't very fond of apples either.
My father married a woman named Ishani less than a month after the queen's death. My father never was a man of honor - he didn't believe in that nonsense. Ishani was gorgeous, albeit proud, and she had a sadistic streak in her. Clearly, she ate a decent serving of fruits and vegetables every day. I spotted a kindred creature in her the moment I laid my eyes on her. Ishani and I got along splendidly, though we did have our occasional spats. Nevertheless, I could tell that she would live to a ripe old age. I would be a middle-aged hag by the time the throne passed to me. Naturally, I couldn't have that.
At the tender age of eight, I was already turning out to be quite the schemer. I hid it from my father and Ishani, of course, but my weak-willed cousins were constantly on the receiving end of my wrath. They served as my scapegoats as well. You'd be surprised by how willing people are to believe that words of a pretty girl. My lessons were extremely dull, so I passed the time by plotting to seize the throne.
Ishani taught me witchcraft in secret. By the time I was twelve, I could brew an impressive array of potions, and I had amassed a large collection of spellbooks. Ishani rarely praised me, but I could sense her approval. Despite her love for me, she lived in constant fear - fear that I would one day surpass her. Now, Ishani had an enchanted mirror which she regularly consulted for advice. When I was thirteen, the fateful day came when the mirror told Ishani that if she didn't do away with me, the day would soon come when I would claim her throne and defeat her. Fear spurred Ishani to lure me into the forest, where she abandoned me, lost and forsaken. She had originally planned to kill me, unseen, but couldn't quite bring herself to. Instead, she left me in the forest and informed the court that I had been attacked by a bear and my body had been ripped to shreds.
Despite her intention, Ishani's actions only helped to further my goals. You see, I had known that the day would eventually come when Ishani would attempt to do away with me, and I had prepared accordingly. I had sewn several provisions into the lining of my gown, and had tucked a dagger into my corset. Ironically, the dagger belonged to Ishani. I had stolen it from her during one of our lessons. My preparation allowed me to survive until my plans could be carried out.
Several men didn't believe Ishani's lies - at least, not completely. They thought that I might be alive, yet injured, in the forest, and thus set out to "save" me in the hopes that in gratitude I would take them on as a husband. I used this to my advantage and cast spells over the men who dared venture into the forest. You'd think that the disappearance of foolish men would discourage the others, but no, they kept on coming like bees to honey. Eventually, a small band of soldiers was sent to investigate. I brought the soldiers under my spell as well. After a few months, I had amassed quite a large army. Large enough for me to carry out my plans, at any rate. Food and provisions weren't a problem - I merely cast a spell upon passing peasants, which drove them to bring supplies to my army.
After several months of plotting and scheming, the time came when it was time to strike. My father had succumbed to an illness only a few days before, and the kingdom was in mourning. My army brought the castle under siege in the middle of the night. It was a quick yet bloody fight. Most of the military was away fighting a war at the border of the kingdom, and few court members were handy with a weapon. I cornered Ishani in her rooms myself. We fought, a battle that lasted all night -- spells ricocheting across the room, each one of us attempting to kill the other. We knew that the last one standing would gain everything. Ishani put up a valiant struggle, but at sunrise, her head rested at my feet. I had won.
My army crowned me sole ruler of the country. I fed the citizens a cock-and-bull story which is now known as the fairytale of Snow White. They accepted my lies easily enough, just like the courtiers of my childhood.
If you ask just anyone about the real version of events, they'll think that you're crazy. But if you know where to ask, they might just tell you the truth. Then again, you wouldn't live long enough to hear the answer. I've got spies stationed everywhere. I rule my kingdom with an iron fist, beneath a false facade of kindness and compassion. I'll stop at nothing to hold onto my power. The death of innocents means nothing to me.
Lips red as blood, skin white as snow, and hair black as night - I am Snow White.