𝗙𝗔𝗜𝗥𝗘𝗦𝗧 - Disney Villains

lady tremaine

- lady tremaine -

A dead man's gold has better profits on a fool's pocket, for it is this that justified your sinning hands.

The apple has deceived you.

The way its plump stature casually rested on the caretaker's wooden crate, the ruby shimmer of its skin led you drooling. How a piece of its leaf stayed stuck on its stem, still fresh from this summer's harvest. That apple was your benefited downfall.

Curious little thing you are, wondered if the apple tastes exactly from what it looks like, the kind that sticks to your tongue, the kind that stays on your lips even after you downed it with thick liquor. The sweet, sweet flesh that quenches your starvation.

You wondered how an apple could taste like the golden gates of heaven and even wondered how the ruby ball of sin has wrapped itself tightly on your scarred hands.

Hunger.

Your long time companion.

"Hey!" The thick squawk of a burly baker pulsates against the market's busy alleyway. His eyes barely locked on the half-bitten fruit on your palms as he quickly exits and you, frightened and in panic, began to run.

"Get back here you brat!"

Your feet had a mind of its own. They danced their way through and across the carriage horses, each rearing up as you traversed the road in haste. The heavy footsteps of the man angered, never halts as one would expect.

Usually, they did not bother to perform such a chase in a market filled to the brim with foreigners and scam artists. Nobles were of rare occasions, but they were still speckled all around the bazaar. The golden-ringed thieves that they are, always came to witness what damage they find most entertaining.

Food had been scarce, so that man has every right to hunt you down. But it is people like these who do not understand. Poverty never came so lovingly amongst the capital, no. It never did.

It craves the fear many people hold, and you just so happens to be the fretful one.

Lungs taking in as much air, you look past your shoulders to see him trailing merely an arm's reach away. Determined to wrap your wrists in a devil's knot and left to hang. All for an apple.

The others watch with pale interest. Their necks mutually craned to the tasks they were slaved to do for the rest of each minute. There were some who batted an eye, though they sigh as if they were scolded.

The market held galleries of different haunted humans.

And you happened to be the next on display.

Pushing past crowds, halting for quick turns, you did everything you could to dust off his trail. The devilish frown of his brows never ceases to slacken itself back where they do not meet in the middle of his forehead, the man had been desperately eager to hunt you down that he merely ignored the drool that slipped off of his crusted lips.

The question that bothered the tip of your tongue was when is he willing to stop, though at this point, there should be other questions with far way more importance. Like, for example, where will you hide?