Voice of an Angel

The Story

Authors Note:

This is quite disturbing... No, that's an understatement, this is VERY disturbing. If you aren't into sexual references, violence or subverted fairytales, then this is NOT for you.

Thank you.

No one knew where she came from. On the sixth day of June 1666, a new-born baby girl appeared at the mansion. Her eyes were black as coal, and upon her head was a lock of blood red hair. In her basket there was a note. There was only one word written on the parchment in ink as red as the girl’s hair. Rapunzel.

The Marchioness became overwhelmed with maternal love for the girl and accepted her as her own, naming her Rapunzel from the note. She was unable to have children and Rapunzel was the perfect daughter in the Marchioness’ eyes as she never cried and was a fast developer, talking at three months and walking at four. However, the Marquis saw differently, and refused to accept her. When the girl turned six months he was confined to a hospital where he was believed to be insane.

During the child’s twelfth year, a storm had taken over the town of London whilst the King was on official business and due to the adverse weather conditions, was in need of a place of residence for the night. The mansion was the only building in the village with light, so he ordered the carriage driver to take him there.

Rapunzel was sitting at her dresser whilst the Marchioness lovingly brushed her long, uncut hair, when they heard the booming of the large door. Rapunzel ran to the heavy wooden door, and opened it to reveal the King standing there drenched through to the skin.

The Marchioness invited him in immediately insisting he be taken upstairs to change into warmer garments of clothing. Rapunzel, being the perfect daughter, refused her mother the task of walking up the tiring, winding staircase, and insisted she take the King to the guest room herself.

After the King’s carriage driver had brought in the King’s possessions, Rapunzel guided him to his room for the night and lit the fire to provide him with warmth. Rapunzel always loved the fire, as it made her feel at home and gave her inspiration to sing. Gradually building up a melody, she began singing a song which she had never heard of, however, the tune came natural to her, as familiar as the lullaby the Marchioness used to hum to her as an infant. The King froze. He began fantasizing about her in ways he shouldn’t and a shiver shot down his spine. He desired her.

That night the King tossed and turned, but couldn’t remove the disturbing images he had in his head of the young girl, wishing only for her to come into the room and be with him. He refused his body what it longed for, reminding himself of his profession and his need to be admired by the female marital potentials. That morning he was gone before anyone awoke.

On Rapunzel’s sixteenth birthday, she had a ball and every young male was invited her to be betrothed to. She was to sing for them, advertising her talent in order to gain attention. As soon as she opened her petit mouth, all males froze. They all wanted her. They would do anything. Anything.

A fight broke out and it became fatal. Men were killing each other in order to be the last man standing for Rapunzel to become their wife. They were ripping each others faces of, tearing at the flesh and revealing the pearl white bone hidden beneath.

The Marchioness found this horrifying and sent the girl to the King’s castle in hope of him returning the favour of accommodating him a few years earlier.

Rapunzel knocked so delicately on the door it was a wonder anyone heard. One of the King’s servants opened the door, inviting her in. When he was informed that she had come, he was devastated. The previous night was the first time he hadn’t dreamt about the young girl he saw four years ago. He was going to turn her away, however by the time he arrived to the girl, he couldn’t. He needed her.

He ordered the carriage driver to bring them to the tower on the East side of London, so they could discuss her “situation”. When they arrived, Rapunzel found there to be no door, only a large window at the top and a long rope ladder hanging from it. She refused to climb, however, he ignored her. He picked her up effortlessly, and threw her over his shoulder, carrying her up there himself.

When they reached the top, he threw her upon the bed, dressed in red silk sheets. He forced himself upon her, despite her screams of horror and refusal. He removed her lower garments and thrust himself upon her. He was so enthralled by the pleasure, that he didn’t notice the figure beside the bed.

The figure leaned forward and pulled the King off Rapunzel.

“My name is Lucifer, and that is my daughter.”

That night the King’s head was delivered to the castle door.