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Fairy Tale

Submitted by aaron on Fri, 02/05/2010 - 03:48

You can remember the last story you told her. "Once upon a time," you began, as you had every night for eight years. But that was a long time ago, when she was innocent, when there was still joy in the world.

Now? Now, that was long gone. Now, she'll soon be leaving, and you'll be lucky to be a distant memory. You're not even certain what's going to happen to you tomorrow, let alone your fate beyond next month, next year.

Stifling a sad sigh, you continue walking to her door, as you have every day for over eighteen years. Barely noticing it's ajar, you stop abruptly when you realize there are dim voices from within.

Choices: 
Listen to the voices
Peek through the door
Walk back down the hallway

Peek through the door

Submitted by aaron on Fri, 02/05/2010 - 03:45

You step forward ever so lightly, and peek through the crack of the door. At first, you see nothing unusual, just the light shining through the window onto the bed, that bed where you read her stories so long ago.

"She's got to be taught a lesson!" A man's voice! You almost gasp, but put your hand in front of your mouth to catch your breath. "Forsaken us, she has!"

You lean your head a bit to the right, and you can see the back of a person, cloaked in black. A voice, her voice, responds, "Aye, and I have just the poison to do that." Poison? Just who are these people?

"No, old hag, we don't want to kill her. At least not right off." This is definitely not good. You know you need to do something, but what can you do?

Choices: 
Push open the door
Walk back down the hallway

Push open the door

Submitted by aaron on Fri, 02/05/2010 - 04:15

Gathering all your courage, you press your hand to the door. "We fey folk shall not be shunned, cast aside as though we didn't exist!"

The fey folk! You freeze now, as you realize who's speaking. You try, but you aren't able to push open the door, transfixed by the terrible speech continuing from her room.

"We watched over her, we did! And she deigned to not believe in our very existence."

"Aye!" You peer through the crack, and see a small, dark creature with a faint green skin. A hobgoblin, for certain, probably from under a kitchen cabinet. "What thanks has she? I say we slit her throat and be done with her!"

"No, no, first she must suffer. You can be more crafty, I'm certain." The first man who spoke walks now clearly into view: a red-capped dwarf, with a beard trailing behind his feet. "You could curse her, I'm sure."

Laughter. "A curse, aye. I shall curse her with a terrible spell. She shall prick her finger by the well, and stubble shall sprout from her face like crab grass from a parched earth."

"And I," speaks the woman, "shall poison the pastries at her party. No, no," she says to the dwarf's grumbling, "not a lethal poison. Just something to bring out her mean side. Shouldn't be too hard."

"That's good. And the fish, and the toad, you two know what to do." You hear a frog's croak, and wonder about the fish. "And I shall finish her off, a draught to put her into a deep slumber, lasting a hundred years."

You gasp, your hand covering your mouth again, but too late. The dwarf turns and looks you directly in the eye, glaring, before the old woman in a black robe turns, her wart-covered face scowling. She throws a silvery powder in the air with a flash, and the fairies in the room vanish.