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  1. Gannon

    Gannon Contributor Contributor

    Jan 15, 2007
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    Manchester, England

    Short Story Contest 27 - Theme: Dark Fairytale - Submission & Details Thread

    Discussion in 'Monthly Short Story Contest Archives' started by Gannon, Aug 6, 2008.

    Short Story
    Contest 27
    Theme: Dark Fairytale

    Open to all, newbies and established members alike. Please post your entries in this thread. At the deadline I will collate all entries and put them forward for voting in a seperate thread. Sadly there are no prizes but honour on offer. The winning entry will be stickied until the next competition winner.

    Theme: A Dark Fairytale. Either distort a common tale or invent your own. Over to you. Any interpretation valid.

    Suggested Length: 500 - 3000 words.
    Deadline for entries: August 20th 2008 17.00 (UK local)

    There is a ten percent leniency above and below the upper and lower word limits, respectively. Please try to stick within these limits. Any piece outside of the suggested limit will still be entered into the contest but flagged as such.

    Try to make your story complete and have an ending rather than be an extract from a larger one and please try to stick to the topic. Any piece outside of the topic will be dealt with in a piece by piece manner to decide its legitamacy for the contest.

    Submissions may not have been previously posted on this site, nor may they be posted for review until voting has closed.

    Please remember to give your piece a title and give its word count in brackets at the top of your story.

    Thanks and good luck.
  2. chad.sims2

    chad.sims2 New Member

    Apr 20, 2008
    Likes Received:
    The Fall Of The Big Bad Wolf (1,865)

    I sat down in my chair and watched as the figure that concealed himself in the shadows turned away to light his cigarette and then turned back once his lighter went out. The burning tobacco the only light in the room. “So you said you have a story to tell me.” I said as I pulled out my note pad and pen, a reporter’s bread and butter.

    He paused a moment, took another drag on the cigarette and let out the smoke with a low groan that almost sounded like a growl. “Ya, I got a story for you, the truth about both the warehouses’ destruction that the news is all up in an uproar about.” I leaned forward, excitement building; this might get me a promotion if he wasn’t just blowing smoke in more than one way.

    “Sounds interesting.” I said trying not to sound to excited, but I’m sure I let a bit of my excitement slip, because he let out a soft dangerous laugh. Something about the way this guy sounded put me on edge, his mannerisms reminded me of a predator ready to pounce on it’s prey. So I annotated him down as the wolf. A good name to remind me of how he acted.

    “You’ll get your story, don’t you worry.” He assured me and leaned back against the wall taking another long drag on. “But first we need to talk about old king Cole.” He said and waited to gauge my reaction. Cole M. Samson, the crime king of this city, everyone knew it but no one could prove it. “The story starts out in a happier time, a time before the mob had to fear the cops. Back then Old King Cole was a marry old soul.” He said and I almost laughed but held it in, as he continued. “Back then he had everything just waiting at his beck and call. Mainly thanks to his brother Humpty, the smart one. Smart enough to look me up when he had tired of the mob business.”

    “Wait, didn’t he commit suicide?” I asked interrupting his story. He let out a sigh took another puff on the cigarette and breathed out slowly. “Sorry.” I said getting the hint, I hoped he’d cover all that in time.

    “As I was saying. Humpty came to meet me one day while I was sitting in my office. He looked nervous; he had the right to be. He had called me the day before to let me know that he wanted a meeting. So I got straight to the point and asked him what he had for me, what did he have that I could use to keep him out of trouble and get his brother into trouble.” He paused for a moment and allowed me to catch up on my notes and then continued.

    “He proceeded to tell me all about the three brothers that owned those warehouses that collapsed a few days ago. It turned out that they didn’t only own the pigs inside but they where pigs themselves, in a way worse than pigs. They got large pay offs from King Cole to dispose of the bodies the easiest way possible, feed them to the pigs.” He paused as I did, shocked for a long moment, and then he explained. “Pigs can digest just about anything, and that includes every part of a human.” He said rather coldly, and waited for me to begin writing again for him to continue.

    “So he told me this and promised that all I had to do was go down to the warehouses any night and get some pictures of it happening and then there’d be plenty of evidence linking the two groups. So me being stupid as I am agreed that I’d try and get the evidence. That was the last I saw of him. Not that he had died yet but it was to dangerous for him to visit me. To many eyes watching him. So I took the chance and a couple nights latter showed up at the first warehouse. I had parked a couple blocks away so as not to alert anyone and proceeded to sneak my way up to the building.”

    “Poor excuse for a building it was, hay actually spread on the roof to cover some holes. Combined that stuff rotting with a few thousand pigs and their waste and you got one heck of a stink. So I snuck into the warehouse, which was easier than you might imagine and found me a good place to hide, and waited for the black car to arrive.” He threw a picture over too me. I looked at it and noticed that it showed a black car, two men pulling a large black bag out of the trunk and that’s about it. It could have been a body but this wouldn’t hold up in court.

    “Could be anything.” I commented and I could feel his eyes even though I couldn’t see them. Gazing at me, knowing as well as I did that I didn’t believe that it could be anything.

    “If I had anything better would I be here talking to you?” He asked but didn’t allow me to answer before he continued. “Everything was going fine until that damned weak board broke under me. They opened fire but I was quicker than them, though a bit clumsy, after a bullet tore through my camera exposing all the film but the one I showed you, I was so shocked I didn’t notice the candles. They had them all around to help burn up the smell of the pigs not that they helped and I ran dead into a bunch of them, scattered them and they quickly caught the building on fire, I barely made it out myself, they didn’t.” He paused again as I wrote feverishly to keep up with his rather thrilling tail.

    “So the first warehouse burnt down as I walked back to my car hoping that my camera had somehow kept the pictures safe, as you saw they hadn’t been so lucky. Pig s^&^ burns fast.” He stopped hear for a bit, took another drag on the cigarette and slid down the wall to sit down. “In hind sight I probably should have given up while I had the chance but I was determined to get something on these guys so the next week I went out again.”

    “This time the ware house was guarded. Still, any investigator worth his name plate can sneak into a place when it’s convenient. So I made it in, hide myself real good again, and noticed that this place wasn’t much better than the first, beams rigged together with nails and sticks of wood. Why don’t these places ever get fixed, they just rot out until they fall down on their own, and that’s what happened to this one.”

    “I had managed to climb up into the beams to get a closer look at the men who arrived, again a body, and again I watched as they unloaded it and fed it to the pigs. I heard the beam crack just in time to let the camera drop and grab onto the beam as it swung me down and smashed through the wall sending me hurling with a two broken ribs and a sprained wrist. I limped away as the building came down on their heads. I didn’t feel sorry for them.” He said and snuffed out the cigarette and lit up a new one. I was scribbling as fast as I could before I forgot anything he said. When I had caught up I watched the red tip of the cigarette hanging in the dark corner he hid in glow brighter as he nearly finished the whole thing in one drag.

    “I was going to give it up, the next day Humpty had his great fall. He may have been the smart one but Old King Cole wasn’t stupid. He knew someone had ratted him out and could quickly figure who it had been. I would have gotten out of it if it hadn’t been for little red.” His voice sounded dreamy and wishful as he spoke the next part. “And my what big eyes she had. Blue, and beautiful.” He let out a laugh and added. “And my what big curves she had, man can’t live off eyes alone.” He joked, again reminding me of a wolf, the hunger, and ferocity in him, calm and deadly at the same time.

    “She was Humpty’s widow and she had come to me to beg me to put his brother in jail for the things he had done. Who could say no to a widow, who looked to be on the verge of tears the entire conversation? I promised I would if I could only figure out where to go next. She had the answer for that, the three pig’s mansion. So after my ribs and my ego had healed I grabbed my new camera and headed up to the rich part of town. Boy what a house compared to their warehouses.”

    “Beautiful hand laid brick house with brick walkways, and fountains and all kinds of fancy ornaments leading up to the house, and the only security protecting it was a gate. What luck they must have figured that I would never have the balls to do this, or that’s what I thought. I was wrong. They jumped me the moment I made it through the conveniently unlocked window. All three of them, plus little red.” I paused and looked up at him. He gave a short laugh; I could feel the hatred of the laugh.

    “My what a big mouth you have. I managed to say before the beating began. Then I was held down and they called the cops, you see they had cleaned out any evidence they had prepared for me, so when the cops showed up, they were granted permission to search the house to prove the false hood of my claims. That’s when I was arrested for the destruction of their warehouses and breaking and entering.” He paused as I finally figured out who he was. His mug had been all over the newspaper. It’s a big deal when someone that rich loses two warehouses and then gets accused of being murderers by the one responsible. He stood up and walked out of the corner. Smiled and gave me a nod as he walked past to the door.

    “You see the mob aren’t gonna let me live long, so I decided to pass on my knowledge long before they get me, good luck.” he said and walked out the door closing it behind him. I stood up from the chair and walked over to the curtained window, opened it up and looked out side. The sun was rising lazily over this corrupt city, and this man had put his trust in me to fix at least one problem the city held. To bad for him I was to smart for that. I’d let Old King Cole have his city, and I’d keep my life. To bad for him.
  3. The Freshmaker

    The Freshmaker <insert obscure pop culture reference> Contributor

    Oct 10, 2006
    Likes Received:
    St. Petersburg, FL
    Someday My Prince Will Come (2188 Words)

    I sit on the windowsill in my tower, looking down at the rain-slicked street. I see no white horse, and no shining armor. Not yet, at least. He’ll come soon. He did promise, after all.

    I sigh and turn away. A rat making his way across the bare cement floor freezes and cautiously sniffs the air in my direction. I kneel and offer my hand for inspection.

    “You know me,” I whisper. “I won’t hurt you.” He inches closer and sniffs my fingertips, warily climbing onto my open palm. Without warning, the door bangs open. My little friend jumps, and skitters underneath my bed.

    I look up at the doorway. It’s the troll. His hooked nose is wrinkled against the damp, mildewy smell of the room. His greased hair and gaudy gold chain gleam in the dim light. His leather boots click against the floor as he comes toward me.

    “We have some guests for you to entertain,” he tells me in a thick Russian accent. Looking me up and down, he says, “You’ll need more suitable clothing.” He tosses a shopping bag at me. I fail to catch it, so it bounces off my face and falls into my lap. “Take a shower,” he says, sitting on the edge of my bed. The flimsy metal frame creaks underneath his weight. “I’ll wait.”

    I cradle the bag of clothes in my arms as I enter the bathroom, and draw the curtain closed behind me. I turn on the shower. The pipes groan in protest, and reluctantly produce a stream of slightly rusty water. I undress and step in, trying not to gasp at the shock of cold. I use the hard yellow soap on my hair and body, and get out as quickly as possible. I brush my dark, brittle hair with a stiff brush, and then look in the shopping bag. Inside is a short blue skirt, and a red sparkly halter top.

    When I emerge from the bathroom, the troll smiles at me, showing his gold teeth. He gets up from the bed. “I have another surprised for you,” he says. He pulls a bottle of perfume from his pocket and spritzes me with it. It smells too strong and too sweet, and I cough as I inhale too much of it. The troll laughs and pushes me toward the door.

    “Come along, my little princess,” he sings. “Come along and meet your subjects.”


    I grip the pole and twirl around it. I bend at the waist, exposing what is underneath my skirt. A hand caresses my ankle, and I turn. It’s a goblin, short, heavy, and balding. A large diamond glitters in one ear. He beckons me to step down, and I follow him. Another girl takes my place at the pole.

    This goblin, he offers me a flask. I sip from it, and the vodka burns all the way down. He puts an arm around me, squeezing my rear before settling his hand on my waist. He takes me to the troll, who is sitting in one corner, surveying the activity in the room.

    “How much to take her to one of the rooms?” the goblin asks in Russian.

    While the two negotiate, I look at the rest of the room. These men, these trolls and goblins, using these women as playthings. The girl who is now at the pole looks as if she might cry at any second. Her makeup does little to cover the bruise on her cheek. A girl in a short pink dress, a girl who can’t be a day over thirteen, sits on the lap of a particularly old, ugly goblin and allows him to nibble her ear.

    My goblin tugs on my arm, leading me toward a hallway. I look back and see the troll counting a handful of twenty dollar bills.

    We reach a room, and he pushes me inside, pulling the door shut behind him. I stumble and fall onto the bed. I hear him fiddling with his clothing.

    “Well?” he shouts. “Take off your clothes before I have to do it for you.”

    This room is cold, and I shiver as I remove my skirt, and then my top. The goblin is down to his shirt and socks, grinning eagerly at me. He moves to the bed and crawls on top of me.

    “Fair warning,” he says, blowing his stinking breath in my face. “I like to bite.”


    I lie on my bed, trying to breathe through my mouth so that I don’t have to smell the mildew. My arms and shoulders sting with bite marks.

    In my own country, I never would have been treated like this. I might have worked a demanding job for very little money. But I would have had my dignity. No one would have dared touch me.

    How could anyone touch me? I was in love with a prince.

    My prince, he was beautiful. His eyes were the color of storm clouds, and his hair was like a crow’s wing. His name was Sacha. We would meet by the river to lie on the grass and hold each other until the stars came out. He would tell me of all the things we could do and all the places we could go, once we were married.

    But we couldn’t marry. I was a peasant, a nobody. His parents would never allow it. Even if they would, he was obligated by his status to marry well. It broke both of our hearts.

    So we came up with a plan.

    “Go to New York,” he told me. “I have a friend there who will help you find work. I will meet you there as soon as I can, and we’ll start our life together.”

    Of course, Sacha was putting himself in great danger. For even a prince to defy the King, it meant treason and therefore punishment by death. We could only hope that we would be able to fade into the American crowds, and never be recognized or bothered again.

    It has been six months. Sacha’s friend had turned me over to a pimp and a mob boss. I know that my prince was not to blame; he did not know that it would be this way for me. However, a small part of me cannot help but blame him for these bite marks, and the stink of sweat and cologne that I can’t seem to wash out of my skin.

    Where is he? Have his plans been discovered? Has he been forced to marry some rich girl? Was he caught fleeing the country? Has he been killed? Has he forgotten me?

    I can’t let myself believe that he’s not coming. It’s all the hope I have.

    As I begin to drift off to sleep, the rat hops up on my bed. I’ve named him Pavel. Small, humble.

    “Don’t give up,” Pavel says. “He’ll come for you.”

    “How do you know?” I ask.

    Pavel twitches his whiskers at me. “If it’s really true love, he’ll find a way.”


    I use a dull needle and black thread to stitch “Sacha” into the outer layer of skin on my palm. It doesn’t hurt, and bleeds only a little.

    “Why do you do that?” Pavel asks me, climbing on my hand and sniffing the stitches.

    “Because I miss him,” I reply.

    “That seems like a silly thing to do.”

    I shoo the rat away. He’s right, though. I cut through the thread with my teeth, and pull the stitches out. The little holes in my skin sting now that they’re exposed to the air.

    There’s a knock on the door. I climb to my feet and cross the room to answer it. It’s one of the troll’s minions.

    “This came for you,” he says, handing me an envelope. Grinning, he adds “Fan mail, I expect. You’re becoming a favorite around here.” He winks. My stomach turns, and I close the door before I vomit in the hallway.

    I march straight to the window, intending to tear up the letter and throw it out. But then I recognize the handwriting on the envelope, and tear it open. I almost cry as I read it.

    Dearest Arina,
    I cannot express how sorry I am that I have not been able to make it sooner. I ran into some trouble trying to get the necessary paperwork. It is all finished now. I have gotten us a house in the country, and I hope you love it as much as I think you will. I am departing today, and this letter should make it there a couple days before I do. I cannot wait to see your beautiful face and take you in my arms.
    Yours Forever,

    I turn to Pavel, who is standing on his hind legs, curious. I pick him up and squeeze his little rat body as hard as I dare.

    “He’s coming! He’s coming!” I squeal, but not too loudly. I dance around the room, and then put down the squirming rat.

    Dizzy and annoyed, Pavel croaks out, “Didn’t I tell you?”


    I want to look beautiful when Sacha gets here. I tear down the curtain dividing the bathroom from the rest of the apartment. It’s dingy white, but it’s the only fabric I have. I start sewing a dress. Pavel helps by holding pins in his mouth. I hum while I work.

    Later that day, the troll comes in and tells me that I have customers. I’ve hidden the dress under my bed.

    “Where’s the curtain for the bathroom?” he asks.

    “One of the rats climbed up it and put holes in it,” I lie. “I took it down to mend it.”

    The troll shrugs. “Get dressed quickly, then,” he says. He doesn’t look away.


    I model my finished dress for Pavel. It’s not long enough to cover the bruises on my knees from the last customer. But it will have to do. It’s a nice enough dress, at any rate.

    “You’re no city rat,” Pavel says, “but I’m sure Sacha will think you’re nice.”

    I shoo him under the bed. I change back into my shorts and T-shirt, then lie down and start thumbing through a two-week-old newspaper. After a little while, I drift off to sleep.

    I awake to shouting in the hallway. One of the voices makes my heart skip, and I sit up in bed. The voice is angry.

    The shouting is in Russian, and it gets closer and closer to my door. I can’t make out what is being said, just the tones of it. Angry and threatening.

    The door bangs open. It’s my prince, and his eyes scan the room anxiously for a moment before landing on me. In an instant, I’m off the bed and in his arms.

    “I’m so sorry my love, my Arina,” he says. His voice is thick with tears. “I had no idea. I never would have…”

    The troll is standing in the doorway, watching with his thick brows lowered, and his arms crossed over his chest. “You cannot leave with this girl,” he says. “She belongs to me. She has debts to pay.”

    Sacha turns to him. “Whatever debts she has, I will pay. She’s coming with me.” His arm around my shoulders, he leads me to the door. The troll blocks our way.

    “I don’t think you can afford it,” the troll growls.

    My prince pulls out a thick wallet, fishes inside, and hands the troll a wad of hundred dollar bills. The troll counts them and pockets them. “Fine,” he says. “You can leave.”

    He steps aside, and Sacha leads me down the hall. My heart it full, and tears are rolling down my face. He’s finally here. I’m finally leaving. We’ll be married, and then go to our house in the country, and we’ll never have to worry about anything again. Love has conquered.

    I hear a loud noise behind me, and white hot pain shoots down my spine. I can’t move. I see the floor coming up toward me, and hear the dull thump as I hit it with the side of my face. There is another noise, quieter this time, and my prince falls beside me. His storm cloud eyes are surprised and sad. He reaches for me.

    “It’s okay,” he whispers. “We’re together.” The room begins to fade away, but Sacha’s face does not. A red flower of blood blooms at the corner of his mouth. It spreads and gets bigger. It really is a flower. I raise my head to look around. We’re in a green field full of little wildflowers.

    “Where…how?” I ask in wonder.

    Sacha sits up beside me, and smiles. “It doesn’t matter.” He stands, and puts out his hand to help me to my feet. “There’s our house,” he says, pointing to a little brown farmhouse in the distance. “All we’ll ever need,” he tells me.

    I smile, and he leans over to kiss me. I take his hand, and we walk through the cheery field to the last home we’ll ever have.
  4. stoned4assassin20

    stoned4assassin20 New Member

    Aug 13, 2008
    Likes Received:
    Static Entropy [1469 words]

    They call me Little Red Riding Hood. It was a name bestowed upon me in the dawn of my transgression of
    the accepted bounds of morality, in my occupation as a prostitute. After years of cultivating my ability to sell vessels of self indulgence and destruction, I’ve risen as one of the most prominent drug purveyors on the west coast. For the past two years I’ve toiled under the hand of the most influential Columbian drug lord of the last half century. Long before I descended into the cruel realm of drug distribution, I quickly tired of my vile existence that consisted of being plunged into by rapacious and hedonic men whose breath ran rancid with the pong of distilled grain alcohol and Marlboro 100s. It was a vacuous state of being, my clinging embrace to sanity surrendered with the induction of my first illicit copulation. However, despite my fragmented mind, I possessed the sagacity and guile to utilize my seemingly limitless capacity as a temptress to slink my way into the upper echelons of the unforgiving but lucrative criminal underworld. The women’s rights movement would be proud.

    It was a bitterly cold and inclement October night, four weeks prior to this scribe. Weather not suited for a stroll, but I was in dire need of cash, and drug addicts are notorious for their ability to liberate themselves from the fetters of the world’s dynamic forces when the rapture of psychoactive powder awaits them. Their perseverance is admirable, and it is a quality that I would be senseless not to capitalize on—regardless of conditions. I was trudging through the woods, the cops being on the prowl on nearly every road, voraciously foraging the land for criminals to seize. I was considerably disinclined to take any chances, and the piercing darkness draped over the tree tops and enveloping the ambient atmosphere served as a sublime cloak in the damp forest. I had two pounds of heroin in a bag slung over my shoulder. China White. 100% pure. World class ****. Almost any obsequious serf to the ecstasy of sedation would give his left testicle for powder this pure, and I dispensed it like piss in a public bathroom (for a nominal fee, of course). Despite the prodigious concealment the blanketed woods offered me, I knew well that Officer Wolf would be scouring every pocket of the depraved city for my presence.

    The incandescent bloom that emanated from the cherry of my cigarette cast a soft glow that could be spotted from 100 yards away, and I knew it had to go. With hallowed cheeks, I took a deep, contemplative drag of my hand rolled stick, ostentatiously embellishing my quivering lungs with a coat of viscous tar that embodied the very essence of death itself. The milky smoke majestically unfurling from my lips in the departure of my final drag, I knew that the all consuming inferno of my addiction would need to wait for further satiation. Call me weak, but in the end we’re all mired in an inexorable march to complete submission to the forces that be. I pulled my red hood over my head to shield the fat rain drops that greeted my scalp with poignant and penetrating cold, and resumed my venture.

    I was on my way to “Grandmother’s” house. A name he was kindly lavished with after years of chain smoking left him with a sallow complexion and pruned skin that sagged from emaciated cheeks. The bastard consumed his first Camel when most are amidst the liberation of being weaned off training wheels. Grandmother was the paragon of a conceited prick, but he was trustworthy and no neophyte to the mutual world in which we were entangled and forever condemned to. Most importantly, his person was a cornucopia of unmarked currency, aside from the occasional bill besmirched with crimson.
    I was quietly brooding over the deep conflictions that rest in the conscious and unconscious minds of most self-destructive indulgence profiteers, when I spotted the all too familiar beam of light that sliced through the once placid dark. It was Officer Wolf. The keen bastard strode towards me in that contemptible self-righteous swagger characteristic of most who believe that they are forging a better world through disposing of my kind. He clutched the .45 strapped to his swinging belt as our paths coalesced; two opposing factions converging in an emblematic strife as old as civilization itself.

    “Sooo… what are we doing here tonight?” Feigning ignorance in hopes of spawning a fecund agenda is one thing I absolutely despise. Wolf spilled it from his every Head and Shoulders scrubbed pore (dandruff is a scourge for the excessively hairy).

    “I’m taking a goddamn stroll in the park. What the hell does it look like?” Ignoring my caustic riposte, his brown eyes that peaked out from two bushy eyebrows could be seen dissecting the all too conspicuous diorama before him.

    “Whatcha got in that bag right there Riding Hood?”

    “Cookies for my ailing grandmother,” I spat with vitriolic sarcasm.

    “You mind if I take a look in that bag?” It was a classic stratagem used by law enforcement officers for decades.

    “Actually, yes I do mind. Just trying to preserve my fourth amendment right sir.” Having been dealt a savage blow, he stopped as the cogs of his mind slowly twisted about their axes. The wrenching silence was disrupted only by the soft expulsions of my bated breath in the frigid air. His jaw clenched and countenance wry, he made a painful concession. However as I would later learn, this pretense of surrender was nothing more than a subterfuge for an insidious plan.

    “All right. Get the hell out of here. The park’s closed after ten.”

    My nearly crippling anxiety beginning to ebb, I settled down to pacify the splintering cries that pounded against the confines of my skull for another cigarette. I had time to slay, and ensuring that Wolf didn’t track me to Grandmother was paramount at this point. I consumed the cigarette that dangled from my rain dappled lips, entranced in a force that could leave me wheezing from violent expulsions of phlegm and blood mottled mucus, but all the while leave me prostrate and begging for more in the wake of its bittersweet exodus.

    Finally sufficient time had passed, and even if it hadn’t, my blood would, in all probability, coagulate inside my pulsating arteries at the fault of my remaining inert in such cruel temperatures. Grandmother’s house was just about a mile from my position and he was surely awaiting our transaction with the insatiable greed that fueled both of our decaying minds. I will not bore you, my dear reader, with the details of this trek. You may rest assured in knowing that it was brutally uneventful.

    I reached the door of Grandmother’s safe house; rain drops beginning to crystallize on the frayed ends of my hair, and thumped it with my fist three times. After repeating this a few more times with no response, unwilling to be left in dereliction in an environment hardly conducive to survival (much less comfort), I forced my way through the door and spotted Grandma sitting peacefully at the table. His back was turned with his trademark black hood tugged over his graying, wispy threads of hair.

    “What the hell’s wrong with you, I must have knocked 15 times, Grandma. Come on. Jesus Christ,” I shouted with guileless indignation. He grunted, though this hardly constituted a reasonable response.

    “Look, I don’t know what the hell’s wrong with you, but I’ve got the white. This **** will knock you flat on your ass. You have the money?”

    “I guess that qualifies as reasonable cause, doesn’t it Red.”

    Wolf, ever the damn drama queen, slowly pulled off the Grandma’s black hood and fixated himself facing in my direction. He slowly rose, .45 in hand, his imposing figure consuming any light that would have fallen beyond him. With a trembling hand, numbed from the merciless conditions, I fumbled for the Smith & Wesson snub nosed .38 nestled in my pocket. Though my movements were vastly maladroit and destitute of deftness, I managed to bring the trusty vehicle of destruction into an apt position. I squeezed the trigger three times in rapid succession, summoning a violent discharge of once torpid lead. The bullets spun tumultuously, sending ripples of disruption across the tranquil air. One slug tore through his neck, the other two rupturing his cranium and burrowing themselves into his sanctimonious, haughty cerebral cortex that practically bled of piety. His vapid body crumpled to the ground, blood ejaculating from a severed carotid artery. The wall was mottled with blood, and a deluge spilled from the punctures in his skull. It was a mess, but I would live another day, dying every second.
  5. Plumsauce

    Plumsauce New Member

    Jul 27, 2008
    Likes Received:
    Let her sleep.

    Word count 3,377

    To all who had seen her, she shone beauty and grace in her every move. In all she was, she represented the good and kind of this world. She was the hope of the country, the innocence, the peace that would hold it together, she was the future; she was a lie.

    Sila paced her modest room impatiently, urging her mind to think of something to prevent what was about to happen. She drew a blank; there was nothing in her left to give. She thought she had it, she thought she had created the perfect plan, almost 16 years ago she had created a curse that should have been fool proof, now she doubted it would ever work.

    Those damned women! They had her well trained, they had the world well fooled, Sila was the only one that saw through them and their monstrous creation and tonight was the only open window she had to save the lives of everyone she protected.

    Her eyes fell on the needle in front of her, the needle that could change everything and all it would do was put her to sleep. The perfect princess; the mortal who couldn’t die. Angrily she turned and cursed loudly, how could no one find it strange? A normal innocent princess who was unable to die, whose biggest threat was to sleep for a long period of time. Why had no one picked up on that? Then again those witches were powerful, they had made it seem like it was their doing that had kept her from death tonight, that Sila had intended on killing her and they had saved her life. If Sila could kill her, she would have done in that cradle at her birth, why could no one see that their sweet little princess was too powerful for that?

    A chime sounded through the trees followed by another. Sila turned and counted them, eleven. She had an hour, panic rose in her as she carefully wrapped the needle in her enchanted cloth and placed it delicately in the pocket of her coat. Bracing herself for the outside cold she opened her front door and stepped outside into the wind of the upcoming storm. Grimly she smiled to herself, no doubt the villagers would think she was responsible for this, those women knew how set the right scene.

    She walked in silence through the thick of the trees, making sure she kept herself hidden as she made her way towards their house. Her heart thumping, she turned the last corner and saw the beautiful enchanted cottage sitting undisturbed by the weather in front of her. The lights were off and the place was silent, they were expecting her. She hated that they were so smug in all of this, as if they knew that this was all a technicality and inconvenience they had to muddle through until their plans could really unfurl.

    If they thought she was going in that house though, they were grossly mistaken; Sila had a few tricks up her sleeve as well. Taking out a pouch from her other pocket she muttered strong curses under her breath, drawing on magic she swore to herself she would never use, drawing on their kind of magic. She emptied out the contents of the pouch and gold powder lightly fell into her hand, and with the summon of further curses the tiny granules lifted into the air and floated towards the cottage.

    Sila waited anxiously as the granules took their target, suddenly she heard screams inside the house, screams of sheer pain, she felt the wall of power as they tried to fight back, but she was ready for them, she drew on even more power and quietened their strength. Soon she felt them grow weak and then turn to nothing. With a sigh of relief she moved forward into the clearing where the cottage stood, they would be unable to do anything now for at least 48 hours. Their smug confidence had left them unprepared for just how powerful Sila had grown, she had counted on that and felt empowered that something had gone right tonight.

    Sila waited in the clearing for the front door to open, the hardest part was yet to come, her highness would not respond well to her protector’s sudden incapability. She smiled at herself then as she thought of how they would be punished for being so weak when needed, one small and dim silver lining should all this fail.

    Slowly the cottage door opened and out she stepped. A beautiful teenage girl with eyes of innocence and a face that held everyone’s gaze. She stood in the doorway and turned her large amber eyes onto Sila, the corners of her mouth turned up into a smile.

    “I can’t believe you’re still going to go through with this Sila.”

    “I have to try Bella, this is my only chance.”

    Bella’s smile widened as she took in Sila’s small and insignificant stance. She stayed rooted to the spot and let out a small chuckle.

    “Well then, I made sure I didn’t sleep last night in preparation for this, bring it on.”

    Sila felt her anger boil as she took a step forward, this was the moment she had left, the moment that would ban her from this world forever, but she could handle that if it meant keeping Bella away. She walked at a steady pace and stopped short four feet away from the princess.

    “Get away from the door frame,” she snarled, “Who knows what kind of magic you have in that archway.”

    Bella flashed Sila a stunning smile and happily skipped up to where she stood.

    “Would you like me to shut the door as well on my way out?”

    Sila winced; she could smell the magic in Bella. It flowed out of her with such a foul stench it made her nose crumple. She wasn’t going to let Bella drag this out, she said nothing in response to her sarcasm and instead held her gaze waiting for her moment.

    Bella laughed again, “Are you going to stare me to death?”

    Then the moment came, the bells chimed; one… two… three… Sila could feel her blood rising in anticipation as she reached into her coat pocket, four… five… six… keeping her hand hidden in her coat she started to unwrap the material, seven… eight… nine… she took and deep breath and took her turn to smile at Bella, ten… eleven… twelve…

    Sila acted so quickly that even Bella couldn’t catch up with her movements, in one foul swoop she took the needle out of her pocket and drummed it straight into Bella’s heart, muttering deep curses as she did.

    The wind created a whirlwind around them as Bella’s eyes widened into shock, Sila could feel the princess desperately struggling for magic of her own but she stood her ground and chanted the curses louder and louder pushing the needle further into her heart.

    Bella’s eyes glazed over as she let go of the last of the magic around her, a white cloud settled over her pupils before she closed her lids and fell to the ground. Sila stood over her body stunned, it had worked, Bella was forced into unconsciousness and Sila had complete control over her body.

    With a sudden jolt at the thought of the sisters in the house she picked up the sleeping princess and ran deep into the forest. Now all she had to do was to hide her somewhere no one would find her. She had spent the last 16 years debating where this place would be and had settled for the caves at the edge of the border. She ran to that place now, slowing down only when she could hear the thundering sound of the waterfall falling off the caves behind it. She ran out into the clearing and lifted herself up and over the water heading straight for the gushing waterfall.

    “Wait!” A voice cried behind her, “I won’t let you hurt her!”

    Sila stopped dead in her tracks, floating a few feet above the flowing river; she turned to identify the new voice and found a tall young man dressed in rich clothing and mounted on a steed. She let out a groan as she recognised the ‘noble’ young prince.

    “Luke, leave, you don’t know what you’re doing.”

    “I’m saving the woman I love.”

    “No, your not, because you’ll never find her to save her!”

    Sila turned her back to him and started forward, suddenly she felt a jerk around her mid rift and found herself being thrown backwards. Clutching onto Bella with all her might she built a hedge of fire around her and surged forward breaking the hold Luke had temporarily held over her. She flew head on into the waterfall and landed softly on the other side. Panic rising in her over being seen, she started down the cave relying on her extensive memory of the place to guide her deeper into the mountain.

    Once she had been running for half an hour she stopped and leaned against the cave wall, taking in deep breaths and allowing the cold wall to cool her back and arms. After a minute she could hear footsteps following the way she came.

    “Impossible!” she muttered to herself, there was no way anyone would have been able to follow her in here. She would have to hide and let Luke overtake her. She moved a couple more paces in the direction she was heading, keeping her body pressed up against the wall until she found the groove she was looking for. Without a sound she gave the wall around it a small push and slipped into the passageway she had created. Closing the wall behind her she turned to find a small still pool lit up by the moonlight shining through the cracks above her. She moved to the edge of the pool and placed Bella down beside her. Placing her head in her hands she stifled overwhelming sobs that escaped her all at once. She was exhausted, she had done what she had set out to do 16 years ago but now she had to keep Bella there.

    With a jolt Sila turned around suddenly as she heard the wall move behind her. She watched the doorway open and Luke walk through, his eye’s burning holes into hers.

    “Her aunts warned me you’d try this,” he scowled, “they made sure I’d be prepared for tracking you down.”

    “I beg you Luke,” Sila cried at the simple young prince, “leave here, pretend you never saw me! I really don’t want to have to kill you!”

    “And leave you with Bella? Never!”

    “Luke, you don’t understand! You can’t have her, not if you want this world to carry on the way it is! She has to stay here with me now, please understand she’s too dangerous to be out there!”

    Luke let out a deep bellow that reverberated off the cave walls, “Bella? Dangerous? She is the sweetest girl I have ever met; the only difference she’ll make by being alive is to make this world better!”

    Sila could feel the panic rising at this inconvenience in front of her, normally she would have just tossed him to one side, one death to save many, but she could feel the witches power set in him. They had tooled him up to kill her and save his princess and Sila knew they wouldn’t have done it half heartedly.

    With an almighty resolution, she held out her hands and shot forward all her strength in one big force, knocking Luke off his feet and smashing him into the wall. Letting out a groan he slid down and landed in a crumpled heap. Sila felt herself fall backwards with exhaustion and landed next to Bella, her head light and black spots forming in front of her eyes. Why she had used all her power she didn’t know, now she was weak and in essence defenceless. She scowled at herself and prayed deeply that Luke was at least rendered unconscious by that blow.

    No such luck; Luke groaned again and forced himself up into a stand, using the wall behind him as an aid. Ridden with frustration Sila turned to the young prince, herself to weak to stand. Desperation was her only tool now.

    “Luke, you have to understand what’s going on,” she muttered weakly, “If you let her go tonight then you will regret it, I guarantee you that. If she were to marry you, she would be the most powerful woman in the world and she will use that. She will hurt and terrorise and there will be no stopping her.”

    Luke said nothing, instead he moved towards her slowly, turning only to spit a mouthful of blood onto the floor beside him. His face was set as thunder and his eyes screamed bloody murder at the frail witch.

    “Please Luke! Listen to me, you have it all wrong! Please understand you can’t set this girl free!”

    Luke reached Sila and drew his sword out of its sheath; he crouched down in front of her and placed the sword at her neck.

    “From the moment Bella was born, you have been overtaken with jealousy Sila, you have been spreading lies to slander her name but we’ve just ignored you, why on earth would you think I’d believe you now?”

    “I don’t for one moment think you’ll believe me Luke,” Sila said softly, tears forming in her eyes, “But I had to try something, I will never stop trying, it would kill me if I saw this proved right.”

    Luke let out a soft chuckle, “Oh I wouldn’t worry about that, you won’t be alive for much longer to see anything.”

    Sila reached into her body to find any more magic she may have left in her, she had two choices left ahead of her, she could somehow find a way to convince Luke of Bella’s evil nature and break this spell of ‘love’ she had over him or if she could find the magic, she could shield Bella from any touch but hers, rendering him useless to her wake.

    Searching desperately Sila found the little magic she had left and began the necessary spells to manipulate it to how it should be done. Suddenly she felt a resistance and Luke’s hand shot out around her neck, choking her menacingly.

    “Bella’s aunts warned me you may try this,” He snarled, “They equipped me very well to deal with it. You won’t be able to use your magic Sila, so don’t even try.”

    Sila’s hope failed in her, she let go of the magic and in return felt Luke’s grip loosen. She had nothing left to give and she was too tired to do anything to fight Luke off. Instead she grabbed Luke’s shirt and pulled herself up to his ear.

    “I tried,” She whispered, “When everything fails around you, when she takes control, at least you will know that I tried to stop it.”

    Letting go of Luke’s shirt she took the remainder of her strength and grabbed hold of the hand he had gripped to the sword near her neck. She pulled the sword towards her and sliced it through her throat. Pain washed over her as she gasped for air and tried to find a way to go back on what she had done, but there wasn’t a way, instead, she fell limp in Luke’s hold, no life left in her.

    Luke stared dazed and confused at the lifeless body in front of him, what had just happened? In all of the ways he had imagined this fight going, he had never assumed she would take her own life. She must have truly convinced herself of the lies about Bella.

    Suddenly his mind sharpened, “Bella” He muttered. Dropping Sila to the floor he turned to the beautiful enchantress sleeping so peacefully in front of him. How could anyone think a single bad word against that face? Her every deed had been good and pure. Deep love washed over him and he stared at his angel, slowly he leaned over her so his face hovered over hers. Her aunts had explained everything so simply should this happen; all he had to do was kiss her with all the love he had inside of him for her. Then she would awake and they would live happily ever after.

    He bent down further and touched his lips softly against hers, pouring his love into her with all of his heart. At first there was nothing, but then he could feel magic forming over their kiss, he could feel life flowing from him into her. All the magic that he had been given by her aunts drained from him into her. Something didn’t seem right; it felt too painful for this to be as he thought it would. He tried to pull away but the magic had hold of him, she had hold of him. Panic forming inside of him, he pushed against her with all his strength, finally the magic ceased its hold and he was released.

    Luke fell backwards with the momentum and stared, confused at the now stirring body. Bella’s eyes fluttered open and daintily she sat up rubbing the sleep out of her eyes. She looked at him and her sweet smile started to form around her lips.

    “Oh my love, you saved me from the wretched witch,” she almost sang, “How can I ever repay you?”

    At the sound of her voice all uncertainty drained out of Luke and he reached out for her hand, love and devotion replacing all the places doubt had been.

    “My sweet,” he said softly, “All I want from you is your hand in marriage, your love and to forever be yours.”

    Bella’s eyes sparkled with excitement and she threw her arms around him, “Oh my darling, I accept! With all my heart, I accept!”

    Luke placed his arms around Bella and, holding her firmly, carried her to the cave door. He scolded himself for ever doubting his love, how could he have been so untrusting?

    “My love,” Bella murmured sweetly into Luke’s ear, “I should like to say goodbye to the evil witch who tried to kill me.”

    Luke looked at her in confusion, “Why would you want to do that?”

    “I could never forgive myself if I didn’t make things right with her before we leave, and although her body maybe lifeless, I believe that somehow she will hear me.”

    Luke gazed in loving amazement at this perfect creature in his arms. Was there no end to her goodness? “Of course you shall say goodbye,” he declared, “if it will help you, though she does not deserve it!”

    He placed her on her feet and began to lead her back towards the pool, though he felt resistance from her, he turned to face his fiancée who had placed her huge amber eyes at full force on him.

    “I must do this alone my darling,” She whispered. Concern flowed over Luke’s features, “I will be ok, she can do me no harm now.”

    Reluctantly, Luke let go of Bella’s hand and kissed her lightly on the cheek, “If you’re sure,” he whispered in her ear hoping for her to change her mind.

    “I am,” she answered, and with that he walked to the door and closed it lightly behind him.

    Bella turned to the lifeless body of Sila by the pool, every part of her turned rigid with rage, she flew down to where she lay and landed in a crouch over her, one leg on each side.

    “You bitch,” She sneered, “You really thought you could stop me?” With boiling anger she picked up Sila’s body and grabbed hold of her head. In one foul swoop she tore the head clear off her body and threw the remains against the wall at the other side of the pool. Composing herself she turned and headed back towards the door. Sila’s body, now in two halves, slid their way into the pool and sank down to the bottom, lost forever.
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