Run.

She runs.

Away from the ball.

Away from the crowd.

Away from him.

Charming?

Sure.

If you've never met him.

But she is not the first to run, and she will not be the last.

She trips.

Hard marble floor coming toward her face.

She pushes herself back to her feet and ignores the footsteps behind her.

Footsteps.

Louder and louder and louder.

He's coming.

So she runs.

She doesn't notice the glass left on the steps.

The slipper she thought would save her life.

It might just end it.

Into the forest she flees, as the entire kingdom chases her.

The girl of his dreams is running.

Why would she run? She can't leave.

Her breath is heavy.

Her chest is pounding.

The girl of his dreams runs from the prince of her nightmares.

Through the forest, into the town, back to the house.

The house.

She thought she'd escape it tonight.

Now it was her only chance at life.

She bursts through the door. Lungs filled with air that weighs her down like lead.

The prince is chasing her.

She is going to die.

Her stepsisters arrive later. They don't understand.

Who wouldn't want to marry the prince?

But she knows the truth.

Eleven wives have come and gone.

Eleven graves have been dug.

Eleven innocents in the palace convicted.

Eleven nooses hung from the gallows.

The prince marries and kills, the girls run and are caught, and the servants take the blame.

Over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over again.

She will not be the twelfth.

She locks herself in her room, with a word of warning to her stepsisters.

I am not here.

They listen. Her stepsisters are more than she could ask for.

She fears for their safety as well.

Her stepmother has not returned yet.

Good.

She is going to find a way out of here, to find her and her stepsisters a new life.

Her stepmother will ruin all of that.

A knock on the door sounds.

The window was left open.

He can see.

There is no hiding from him, so her stepsisters open the door.

Creak. Creak.

A man enters.

Barely old enough to have one wife.

But eleven?

Soon to be twelve.

"The only thing we could recover was this shoe."

A chill runs down her spine.

She has the matching slipper.

But she is safe for now.

She is hidden.

"Oh, that's mine!" says a voice.

Her stepsister.

No.

"Try it on, then."

It won't work.

It won't fit.

An accident when she was five, separating her foot from three of her toes.

The slippers are made to fit perfectly.

Her stepsister knows that.

She peers through the crack in her door.

Downstairs is the prince, her stepsisters, and a glimmer.

The glimmer of sunlight on a blade.

"Give me a moment; you know how cumbersome women's shoes can be. I'll need one of my maids to help me take it off."

Footsteps. Four feet.

Both stepsisters leave.

Outside the door they stand, the blade gripped tight in a hand.

Knuckles white, she takes off the shoe.

"If this doesn't work, I'll try," says another voice.

Slowly, she understands.

NO.

She wants to cry out but knows both her sisters will die if her hiding place is found.

So she waits.

Watches.

As the blade is lowered.

And off comes a toe.

Another.

Another.

One

by

One

by

One.

Blood.

A stifled scream.

And the blade is passed to another hand.

Off they go.

Chop.

Chop.

Chop.

One,

Two,

Three.

Dark.

Red.

Hot.

Blood.

No, no, NO!

A sob escapes this time. A whisper of pain.

"Oh, God in heaven!"

"It's fine. Let me clean it up."

"Okay."

The blood spills onto the floor and under the crack in the door.

Seeps through the floorboards.

She prays that a drop will not spill on the prince's head.

And then the girls have returned.

One stepsister sits and beckons for the prince.

The other stands in wait.

Long skirt hiding the fact that she, too, has removed her shoe.

And waits for the inevitable failure.

The prince, charming as ever, leans down.

Heaven forbid the lady put on the shoe herself.

Slips it onto her foot.

The room holds its breath.

It doesn't fit.

She apologises.

Her sister shoves her to the side, ever the jealous relative.

Such good actors, they are.

The prince smiles, knowing the charade is almost over.

He leans down.

Slips the shoe on her foot.

It doesn't fit.

Her sisters are panicking now.

She is panicking.

"Are there any other women in this household?"

"No. None at all."

"You mentioned a maid."

"I was mistaken; she had already left for the market," her stepsister lies. "Before I got there. My sister helped me instead."

"Of course."

She holds her breath.

She is almost safe.

"Well, I guess we'll have to leave this house. Thank you for your time."

Her stepsisters smile.

It is almost over.

Then the door opens.

She thinks the prince is leaving.

Breaths a sigh of relief.

But through the door steps another woman.

"Mother," her stepsister says, trying to hide her dismay.

No.

"Oh! What is the prince doing here?"

Nothing. Nothing at all. Leave.

"Do you happen to know who this shoe belongs to?"

She peers through the crack in the door again.

Her stepmother is grinning.

She knows who the shoe belongs to.

Knows perfectly well.

Is dreaming of the riches she'll acquire when her stepdaughter weds the prince.

No. Please, no!

"My other daughter is upstairs in her room," says her stepmother.

"I'm sorry, Mother, but she hasn't returned from the ball yet," lies her stepsister.

"Nonsense! You might not have seen her, but the ball was over the moment the prince left. We must answer his request."

She searches for a place to hide but is too late.

Her stepmother grins in the doorway.

"Come, daughter," she says, with the kindest voice she can muster.

Not very kind.

She tries to resist but her stepmother grabs her arm and drags her forward, so that the prince can see.

He knows who she is.

She cannot escape.

Her stepmother drops her onto the stool, where the slipper that will seal her fate is there.

She looks up at her stepsisters.

Her stepmother sees her and walks over to her daughters, making sure they know what the consequences will be if a single word escapes their mouths.

"Try it on, dear."

The prince watches her intently.

Slips the glass onto her foot.

It fits.

Perfectly.

No.

The prince grins.

Her stepmother giggles like a child and claps her hands.

Her stepsisters go pale.

And the prince leans in closer.

He grabs her and pulls her to him.

His lips touch hers.

She tries to pull away and fails.

He lets go, still grinning.

"I love your slippers. Perhaps you could wear them for our wedding."

She wants to scream but can't.

He has her.

And he won't let go.

He looks at her, the picture of a man hopelessly in love.

Whispers in her ear.

"You didn't think you could run, did you?"

Grins like a wolf staring down its prey.

"Cinderella."

Emily Elizabeth was only nine years old when her parents brought home a puppy whose fur was as red as fire engine. She loved the little dog with all her heart and named the tiny creature Clifford. Little did Emily Elizabeth know, her parents had stolen Clifford out of a animal testing laboratory at the CIA research facility they worked in. The Research Division had developed a new formula for super soldiers and had injected the little puppy. The only visible change was that his fur turned beet red. Emily Elizabeth's parents were instructed to kill the poor creature, but they didn't have the heart to euthanize him.

As the months went on, the family noticed that Clifford was growing at an alarming rate. To add to it, he grew super strong, remarkable intelligence, and became the perfect guard dog for their home. One fateful night, two burglars broke into their home in the middle of the night, and Clifford was able to fight off the criminals, withstood no injuries, and killed them in a gory mess. The CIA heard rumors of the incident and started investigating Emily Elizabeth's family, paying special attention to the dog being hailed as a hero.

Emily Elizabeth's parents rushed home one night, shaking her awake with fervor and had her start packing her things. They were rushing about, muttering about a mole in the laboratory, and gave specific instructions that Emily Elizabeth was to travel with Clifford to a safe house on Birdwell Island off the coast of Maine.

As they were giving their final instructions, there was a crash at the backdoor. Clifford started to growl and ready for a fight, but the mother grabbed the dog's face and said resolutely, "Get her out of here. Protect her at all cost." The dog promptly ducked his head under Emily Elizabeth and ran for the door, carrying her into the night. The last they saw of their home, people in blackout suits had her parents at gunpoint and saying something about treason.

Emily Elizabeth cried into Clifford's fur as he carried her, running as fast as his long legs could go. It took them several days to find safe passage to Birdwell Island, but Clifford never showed any signs of fatigue. Making it to the safe house, Emily Elizabeth and Clifford remained there for several years. All that time, Clifford began to grow and grow until he became gargantuan and so intelligent that he could manage basic speech.

On her 17th birthday, Emily Elizabeth decided she couldn't stand by any longer. She would return to the mainland and try to find and rescue her parents. Clifford agreed and helped her make preparations and plans. Geared up with stealth gear, guns, and everything they would need to break into the CIA Headquarters, they headed towards the mainland, ready to fight for and rescue their parents.

Once upon a time, there was a girl named aurora. She was the daughter of the king and queen of both the human and fairy kingdom known as Moors. The king overjoyed with the news of her birth, threw a celebration party in honor of his new born daughter and invited everyone in the land. The day came and it was all the town folks talked about, they entered the grand castle and saw the palace decorated with balloons and streamers, however what really caught their attention was the gigantic dinning table. It was set with forks, spoons, plates and cups all made out of pure gold.

The night went on and everyone was having an amazing time, everyone except Maleficent. She caught word what had happened and was furious that she had not recieved an invatation. And so she made her way to the castle throwing open the doors and stopping the celebration as all eyes turned to her. The gaurds tensed as she walked in and the kings grip on his wine chalice tightened slightly as she drew closer. His daughter sitting in her crib a few feet away from him. As the legend goes they treated her poorly at the dinner table and so she said her peace and with a flick of her hand, left Aurora with a gift of her own.

"On her 17th birthday she shall prick her finger on a spinning wheel and shall fall asleep only able to be awakened by true loves kiss." Said Maleficent, or so you were told. No, Maleficent had a much darker intent in mind and deciding that doing this was not enough to punish the royal couple for a simple kiss from her mother or father would do, she whispered quietly to herself and changed her spell.

And so the king had all of the spinning wheels in the kingdom destroyed and aurora was highly protected by three fairys up until her 17th birthday. Feeling smothered she slipped away in the dead of night after her party to go explore parts of the castle. As tthe story goes she finds the room and pricks her finger on the spinning wheel right before the fairys can burst in and stop her. her limp body drops to the floor and the fairys bring her up to the throne room where her parents are apologizing profusly in failing to do their job.

The king assures them that it it was meant to happen and comes down from his throne running a hand through his daughters hair before placing a kiss on her forehead. At that moment her eyes shot open and she grabbed her fathers shirt her face splitting open and devouring her fathers head whole leaving nothing but a bloody stump in its place. The queen horrified, fell to her knees at the sight as the three fairys cast a spell trapping the now rabbid aurora in chains. The queen looked down at her lap to find words that had not been there stiched into her gown, "On her 17th birthday she shall prick her finger on a spinning wheel and become a beautiful monster."

News of the kings death spread throughout the kingdom as aurora was locked away inside of a far away castle surrounded by thorns and a gaurd dragon. For you see the queen could not bear to kill her only baby girl, so she decided to lock her away sending food to her in the form of hopeful young men who would love to marry the beautiful princess. They would "defeat" the dragon make their way inside the castle to her quarters where she lay resting peacefully. And as soon as they kissed her lips they would suffer the same fate as her dear father. Aurora would then toss the bones into the dungeon with the rest of them and go about her day as a normal human reading, cleaning and even picking up writing, only stopping to rest when she hears the call of her next meal through her windown. And they all lived happily ever after,

The End