Today on Drabble Wednesday I bring you twisted tales of childhood, grim and dark…
The Big Bad Wolf
We are all afraid. It is not safe to roam these woods. Blood soaks into the trails and earth. They have killed our children, our elders. Left behind mutilated corpses.
Many of our tribe migrated from the forest. Of those that stayed, many hide, too frightened to forage for food. We send our strongest to hunt for our meat, but even they don’t always come back.
Sometimes I stare at the great moon in the sky, and wonder. What did we do to them?
Why does this Red Riding Hood and her huntsmen kill wolves for our pelts?
Hansel and Gretel
Gretel looked up from her scrubbing, afraid, as her father opened the door. Hansel scurried into a corner. But their father did not greet them with blows or shouts.
“Come children. We’re leaving.”
Ever obedient, the brother and sister rose and followed. He led them deep into the forest, where an old lady awaited. She tossed him a leather purse.
“Here’s your gold.”
He laughed, and pushed the children forward. The old woman reached out and grabbed their hands. Their father turned and departed.
The old lady smiled at them. “Don’t worry, children. Granny will take good care of you.”
One hundred years she slept, behind walls of stone, walls of thorn, imprisoned within a fairy’s curse. Over the years, the blood of valiant heroes fed the thorns, and their bleached bones stood as warning to others.
Save one brave soul. He who won the path to her side.
He stared, enchanted by her timeless beauty, compelled to kiss her soft, ruby red lips. Her eyelids fluttered, and she awoke. The prince helped her to sit, held her in his arms, and she smiled.
With a mouth full of razor sharp fangs.
Moments later she ate her prince.
© A. F. Stewart 2016 All Rights Reserved