Monsters And Murderers

Part 1

Anastasia

I hobbled down the faded, darkened streets that crumbled at the edges at 11:26 pm, tossing my knife from hand to hand, a faint smile tugging at the corner of my lips-----the only betrayal of malice I allow myself to show.

My step sister had crippled me, humiliated me, betrayed me, driven my mother to insanity- when all we had ever wanted was our happy ending, too.

As I walked, a storm of angry thoughts and unjustified memories swirling inside me, the dusty, squat houses began to morph into shinier, bigger, more modern dwellings. Smoggy air turned clearer and more breathable. Sad, dampened torches changed to hanging street lanterns that cast a warm, rosy glow.

This could only mean one thing. We were nearing the palace. Her new home. My expression darkened further at the thought of her, but my stomach twisted happily with the anticipation of standing over her mangled corpse----silent laughs racked my body at the thought that soon, I might be the pretty one.

They had it all wrong. It was not her story, it was ours, and she was not the kind-hearted heroine, but the villain in our way. She was cold as stone, dark as night. Petite and pretty on the outside, but warped and malformed on the inside.

She was Cinderella, and she was going to die.

Cinderella

The carriage had been grand, shining reds and golds topped with little silver crowns.

The henchmen were dressed in creamy white breeches, the coachman clad in a ruby - red box coat and top hat. Four magnificent ivory horses stamped the gravel, dust billowing from beneath their hooves, clouds of frost shooting out of their noses. The royal seal, two overlapping circles and a crown where the two loops intersected, took up the whole of one side as it glinted in the sun----unmissable.

The instant it came into view a gasp slipped from my lips- my wretched old family had me sweeping coal dust and scrubbing pots and pans and polishing the silverware and tending to the hearth, but now I was to be queen!

All I had to do was play the perfect little wife, beaming and laughing and waving, and all these riches would be mine. Mine! Me, who'd rarely had so much as a bracelet to myself.

And the instant I was crowned, I would have my horrible sisters executed. The thought sent a pleasant warmth bubbling through me.

I sat daintily, my skirts spread around me (looking somewhat like a muffin, but I suppose that's just my opinion) as we pulled away from my old house, as the carriage trundled through the streets.

As the town slowly shifted from a depressing, crumbling land to a worthy, magnificent one, as the weathered, faded colours blended into shining, vivid hues, I felt my excitement grow until it was all-cnsuming, until I could barely contain my squeals,

The prince- my prince- offerred his hand to help me down, and I took it, heels sinking into the plush red carpet that stretched to the doors of the royal home.

I was Cinderella, and this was my life.

Drizella

I sat on my bed, massaging my foot. The ache never really went away- sometimes it was dull, a faint tug of pain pulling at the edge of my conciounce. Other times it hurt like fire and iron, an impossible pain that swallowed me up, engulfed me into it's dark, burning depths and didn't let me go.