Fearful Things

Snow Not White (Part 2)

So what had sent her into such a frenzy-

"Are you alright, young lady?"

Snow's head whipped around fast enough to produce a painful crick in her neck. An old woman, hunched over and swathed in dirty rags, approached Snow. The crone took small waddling steps as a worn basket hanging on her arm bounced against her hip. Snow quickly shot up and clasped her hands, still clutching the knife, behind her back. A rosy glow painted her cheeks as she realized how ridiculous she must have looked. She brushed the dirt from her dress and plucked a leaf out of her hair. The old woman peered from under her hood with beady black eyes. She chuckled, smiling against the weight of her sagging cheeks.

In a soft voice, she teased, "In my day, young women were never allowed such improprieties. I'm happy to see you enjoying yourself, but do take more care." Snow blushed harder, which only made the woman laugh harder. The laughter suddenly became coughing, and she doubled over in pain. Snow tried to rush to her side, but the woman waved her away.

"Bah, I suppose I'm not one to talk when I've been frolicking in an orchard all day." She carefully lifted the lid of her woven basket to reveal a pile of bright red apples. Her bony fingers trembled as she picked one and extended it to Snow. "Please take one, my child. I have plenty to go around."

Snow smiled warmly and took the apple. "Thank you." She brought it to her lips, their colors indistinguishable. Just before sinking her teeth into the fruit, a violent chill racked her body, and she froze. Her wide eyes darted to the old woman. The sun disappeared behind a heavy cloud, turning the colors of the land flat and gray. The crags in the woman's face cast long shadows that swept her features into shadowy chaos. As Snow watched, an eager grin split the crone's face in half, and the once delightful glint in her eyes turned murderous. Snow glanced at the basket, still full of bright red apples. Her hand trembled.

Poison.

It had to be. The old bat was in line with the evil princess. She was there to kill Snow. Wicked, screeching laughter suddenly rang in Snow's ears, forcing her to drop the apple and clap one hand against her head.

"What's wrong, dear?"

Despite her question, the woman's mouth did not move from its mocking smile. What was happening? What was making this horrid dissonance in Snow's mind? Treat everything and everyone around you as an enemy until I can confirm your safety. The realization hit Snow like a bolt of lightning. A witch. Only black magic could be tormenting her in such a way. She had been naive. The woman in front of her was not working for the princess.

She was the princess.

She must have used the magic mirror to conceal her identity and taint Snow's mind. A low chuckle emanated from Snow's chest. It built and built and built into a mad cackling loud enough to rival the witch's howls.

"Y-young lady? Is something wrong?" The words fell from the evil woman's motionless mouth, but Snow did not hear them.

Without hesitation, Snow White brought out the knife from behind her back. In one swift motion, she plunged it into the woman's stomach. The pair stood still as statues, their silence only broken by the sound of the basket crashing to the ground. Apples spilled across the stone road like a blood splatter. The witch released a strangled scream and collapsed to the ground. Snow dropped on top of the witch's writhing body and wrenched the knife from the wound.

Snow raised the blade up and screamed, "You thought you could fool me you conniving hag!?" She swung down with all of her strength, burying the knife into the woman's chest. Her mouth snapped open into a black hole, but not even a whimper escaped.