Once Upon A Time

Snow White

Snow White sat comfortably in the rocking chair by the bay window, calmly and meticulously wiping her knife clean of her victim's blood. When she was satisfied it was clean, she walked into the bathroom, turning the faucet on and splashing her face with cold water. She looked up. In the mirror, she saw herself as a child; a face clean and perfect like a porcelain doll, her jet-black hair falling down to her shoulders in a smooth sheet, her lips as red as the blood of the countless victims she claimed. As she walked out of the bathroom, she heard the six stomps in a specific order that meant her partner had finished with the other. After looking around once more, she gave her signal and left the penthouse.

The victims had been given a bath, wiped down, and buried nearby. All personal objects had been removed, and fresh clothes had been put on the bodies.

As Snow walked out onto the street to meet a cool, crisp air whipping against her face, she thought back about what had transpired. There wasn't much, she thought. The recently married couple got in her way and tried to stop her. She couldn't let that slide.

Her partner jumped down from the fire escape with ease, then glided over to her side.

"Well, I did just what you asked. I'll expect my payment no later than next week, Snow."

"Of course, kind sir. I assume you'll be wanting the same amount."

"As always, ma'am." At that, he turned North, and walked away, not looking back. Snow headed West, towards her apartment, her other life, her family.

When she arrived at the Charming Estate, she took a look around at the beautiful property. The fall had turned the oak trees that flanked the main doors beautiful shades of burgundy and a soothing yellow.

In this place, she was Snow Charming; a loving wife, mother of two beautiful and marvelous kids, and a wonderful staff. To everyone else, she was Snow Charming. But, she thought, it's what's on the inside that counts. On the inside, she was Snow White.

The gate swung open after she dialed in the passcode and she walked towards the front entrance. After taking a deep breath, as she often did to get into character, her facade, what everyone saw her as, she opened the doors and walked calmly into the brilliantly lit entrance hall. Everything seemed peaceful and quiet, right up until she heard a large crash from one of the upper floors and ensuing shouting. She sighed, then made her way up towards the source of the sound.

As she opened the door to one of the many sitting rooms, she saw her two children, 14 and 8, bickering about the broken shards of a carefully carved glass vase that, at one point, had sat on the magnificent mahogany dresser directly to her left. She closed her eyes, her sigh almost inaudible. After counting to ten, she opened her eyes to the silence of her children staring up at her.

"Mother, I can explain-"

"No need," she said to Alexander, her fourteen-year-old. "Go and fetch a broom and dustpan and clean this up at once. You know what I have said about playing in the house. You have the backyard and a lovely playroom. Head upstairs when you are done."

Alex bowed his head in shame. "Yes, mother." The young prince walked out of the room, shoulders sagging.

She turned towards her 8-year-old daughter. "Clara, go help your brother. Your father will be home soon, so you two had better be on your best behavior."

"Yes, mother," she said glumly. She briskly walked towards the door, burying her hands in her face as she began to cry. Snow took one long look at the sharp glass shards scattered across the floor, enough to slice through the flesh of her enemies easily. Snow look back, then strode over to the debris and pocketed a long, thin, and very sharp piece she had picked out.

As she walked out of the room, she heard the unmistakeable noise of the wrought iron gates swinging inward. Her husband was home.

Snow had some affection for her husband, of course, but she didn't know how far it went. Sometimes, she thought, it would be best to just kill him swiftly, become Queen, and move on. But she knew she couldn't. Not yet. She needed him; he hadn't yet served his full purpose.

She heard Clara squeal as her husband laughed heartily. As she descended the stairs, she saw her family laid out before her. Her husband, standing just immediately beyond the threshold, Clara in his arms, Alexander by his side, standing proudly. She put on her smile, welcoming him home.

Her husband had been gone; he had been in Camelot, talking to King Arthur about the tensions between the two countries. She looked at him. Though it was barely a movement, she understood that he had failed, that there wouldn't be much time before a possible war. They couldn't afford a war, Snow knew that much. The country her husband led was in great debt, unable to pay it off. This angered several other countries, but many weren't looking for a war. Camelot was another story.

The two countries had hated each other for a while; they had powerful trade relations, however, as neither country could live without the other's natural resources. Those ties were the only thing keeping possibly the entire world from a war; each country taking sides.

Snow kissed her husband on the cheek, then shooed her children away.

"So. Negotiations didn't go well."

"I kept the trade routes open. But he doesn't like the idea of putting in a border to stop clashes. It's ridiculous. Sometimes I just want the man dead."

I can make that happen, Snow thought. She already longed for another victim.

"The man is insane! I can't deal with this anymore..." he trailed off as he walked towards the large dining room, where his liquor was. He loved his liquor more than his children or his wife.

Of course, Snow thought. Go to your liquor with your problems. Not your wife, not Snow Charming.

Well, she thought to herself again, it's what's on the inside that counts.