Once Upon A Dystopia: An Anthology of Twisted Fairy Tales and Fractured Folklore

by Heather Carson

  “What is this place?” I asked.

  “I’m sorry if it's not as nice as your gilded kingdom,” the girl said. “Welcome to the real Realm.”

  “We must have traveled far,” I said.

  “Actually, we are just outside the wall.” The boy pointed, and I could see the wall of my kingdom in the distance. But how was that possible? The environment was completely different here. How could a wall divide a temperate climate from a dried-up place like this?

  “This is what most of the world is like, Rapunzel. Dunes. Wastelands. Desserts,” the redhead said. “The Three Kingdoms are the only places in the Realm with grass and rain and shade.”

  “How is that possible?” I asked.

  “How is it possible for one woman to rule a kingdom for 500 years?” she asked. “It’s possible because of people like you.”

  “Why are you all camped out here?” I asked.

  “It's how we get our clothes and food,” she explained. “When they dump their trash.”

  I wanted to ask if mother knew about this, but of course she did. How could she not know about the thousands of starving people living right outside the walls of her kingdom? Mother told me that the people who lived outside the wall were dangerous and evil. So much of what I knew about the world had been a lie.

  “Please tell me if she’s okay,” the boy asked me.

  “Who?”

  “The baby. My sister.”

  I looked at his ears. “You are cursed too.”

  “Cursed?” He twisted his face in confusion.

  “Mother said people would hunt me down because of my cursed ears,” I said. “That's why I never left home. But after today, I don’t think I can trust much of what my mother said.”

  “We are Aziza,” he states. “The fourth Kingdom of the Realm. A displaced people, sure, but definitely not cursed. Your mother has ruled for 500 years Rapunzel. People don’t live that long without a blessing.”

  My forehead creased as I took his words in.

  “That's why they take us. When our natural magic is harvested, others can live long and prosperous lives.”

  “Hey, you're up,” a familiar voice called from behind me. I twisted my neck to see Marius approaching. He had not abandoned me after all, and a warm sensation swept over me. Even though he was no longer wearing his suit, he looked out of place here. Something about the way he carried himself hinted at his royal upbringing.

  He walked up to me and pulled out a dagger. I gasped and recoiled back.

  His eyes softened. “I’m going to free you, Rapunzel.”

  He gently took my wrist and started sawing the rope with his blade. “I'd never harm you.”

  “Why did you tie me up in the first place?” I asked.

  “We didn’t want you to wake in the night and run off before we had a chance to talk to you.”

  I rubbed my sore wrists once they were free. “They drugged me,” I said.

  “To get you out safely. Would you prefer the drug your so-called mother prepared for you?”

  I rolled my eyes. “What did you want to talk about?”

  “The kingdoms.”

  “Why are you helping me? You stand to benefit from my death like everyone else in that room.” There was a question on my mind I dreaded asking, but I needed to know. “What were they going to do with me when I died?”

  “The Aziza have powerful, natural magic. Their blood has been used to make potions and elixirs for years. They don’t hunt Aziza. Not anymore, at least. I guess to make themselves feel better about kidnapping and killing people, they made it into a type of religious ceremony. They call them Tributes—children taken from Aziza tribes. They tell themselves they are doing the Aziza a favor by allowing you to live in their palace, raising you like a daughter, treating you like a queen. They wait till Tributes are eighteen to harvest their blood. Every eighteen years, they do it again.”

  “That’s twisted,” I said.

  Marius shrugged. “In your kingdom everyone has long and prosperous lives. A lot of times, to create a perfect, utopian kingdom for some, the rest of the world needs to suffer. Outside of the Three Kingdoms, life is hard for everyone. When I saw what the world was really like, I wanted to be a part of rectifying it.”

  “How long have you known about this?” I questioned.

  He gave me his familiar crooked grin. “I’ve been helping in the dunes for the past couple of years now. I met Amare.” He gestured to the boy with ears like mine. “He told me they'd kidnapped his sister, and I … remembered you. I knew what they were going to do on your birthday, and I wanted to stop it. To help him. And to help you.”

  I shut my eyes as I tried to process everything. Mother wasn't my real mother. Rapunzel probably wasn't even my real name. I’d been stolen as a baby; a perfect kingdom had been founded on the blood of people like me.

  “I have secured passage for you to a safe place. You’ll stay with Amare’s family as we work to retrieve his baby sister. They live in a small community of Aziza. You’ll be able to meet others with magic like yours.”

  “So your plan was to hide me away?” I asked, clenching my fists and I stood up. I felt like I’d discovered the world for the first time. There was no way he was going to leave me now.

  “My plan is to keep you safe as we save his sister's life.”

  “You can’t just kidnap the baby,” I protested.

  “We can,” Amare said. “We have to.”

  “There will be more babies—girls like me, just waiting for their death day. Let me come with you, stand up to mother, and take my rightful place as queen.”

  Marius moved closer and took my hands.

  “I want you safe, Rapunzel,” he whispered. “You promised me another dance someday.”

  “I woke up this morning thinking I'd be queen tomorrow,” I said. “I’m not going to hide away. Not while there are babies who are raised to be murdered. This all has to stop. If I really do have natural magic, I can help.”

  “You don’t know how to wield your power yet,” he spoke through gritted teeth.

  “If I needed to know how to wield my power, I wouldn't be alive right now,” I said. “The kingdom needs a new queen.”

  Marius was silent for a second, but eventually he sighed. “Okay.”

  I blinked at him. “Okay?”

  “Yes, Rapunzel. Come with us. I saw you race up those steps, I saw you float through the sky like an angel. I want to keep you safe, but you’ll probably end up being the one that rescues me.”

  The redhead rushed to the back of the caravan. She grunted as she pulled out a large wooden chest of weapons. I smiled as I picked a larger Broadsword and deposited my tiny blade from home. This wasn't how I expected to claim my title, but a queen doesn't run from her kingdom. It was time to take my rightful place on the throne.

  K. R. S. McEntire lives on a healthy diet of fiction and tea. She loves art, photography and travel because, like books, they allow her to explore new worlds. She lives in Indianapolis with her husband and runs the Facebook page Diverse Fantasy and Sci-Finds, where she shares book recommendations with other bibliophiles.

  Find her at: https://krsmcentire.wordpress.com/

  While They Sleep

  By Heather Carson

  “Mom, tell them they made a mistake.” Emma shakes as the chill of the room creeps up the back of her thin hospital robe. “Please mom, I’m begging you. I don’t want this to happen.”

  “Shh, my darling.” Bethany kisses the top of her daughter’s head before tucking a long lock of blond hair behind her ear. “I promise this isn’t a bad thing. It’s for the greater good. I was honored with this blessing too. I’m so proud of who you are and what you will accomplish.”

  “No.” Emma clenches her teeth to stop them from chattering. Tears burn hot streams down her cold cheeks. “This isn’t fair. I don’t want this. Tell them to sterilize me.”

  “I can’t do that sweetheart.” Bethany smiles brightly for her daughter, wil
ling the fears to dissipate like they did when she was a young girl. One reassuring smile was all it took for a brave Emma to dust herself off and continue to play. “The tests are never wrong. I always knew you were special, and the doctors just confirmed it. This is the highest honor a woman can have.”

  “I still don’t understand.” Emma’s face contorts in anger. “I don’t want this. Why does everyone else get a choice but me?”

  “They don’t get to make their choices either.” Bethany swallows down sympathy for the entire world with a sip of water from the paper cup. “You’re a woman now. Women have a special job of protecting and caring for our way of life.”

  “Mom. Stop.” Emma grasps Bethany’s arm and digs her perfectly shaped fingernails into her mother’s skin. Every word she speaks is punctuated and slow, “I don’t want this.”

  “Every woman who goes through this is scared. You’ll be completely safe. They care for all the girls here. You’ll be treated like a princess.” Bethany pulls her daughter close and hugs her. “I need you to be strong for all of us.”

  “How can you say this to me?” The heat of rage vibrates through her skin and stops her from shaking. “Are you even going to miss me?”

  “Of course I will, sweetheart.” Tears well in Bethany’s eyes. “But it isn’t the time to be selfish.”

  “And what if I lose fifty years like you did? What then?” Emma spits. “You’ll be dead. Dad will be dead. I’ll be lucky if Bryne even remembers me.”

  “It won’t be that way,” Bethany whispers as the deep throated sound of male laughter and giggles from a little girl echo down the hall.

  “I was a first trial run,” she rushes to explain. “The time is getting shorter, but I need you to put on a brave face. Please don’t scare your sister.”

  Emma clenches her teeth and turns to stare at the clinically white wall. Those words are the only ones her mother could speak that would stop her from causing a scene. She won’t run. She won’t fight. Not if it will tarnish Bryne’s reputation. To hell with her mother and father who would willingly let her go. Bryne is the only one worth fighting for.

  “I got you a doughnut,” Bryne says she climbs up on the hospital bed next to Emma. “The lady at the counter gave me two for free.” The little girl’s sticky sweet face gazes adoringly at her older sister. She holds the doughnut with melting glaze out to her like a prize.

  “Of course they would.” Emma smiles as she wipes tears from her face. “I bet they would have given you twenty free doughnuts if you asked.”

  Bryne beams as Emma takes the pastry, but her little eyes shift downward in sadness when Emma takes a bite.

  “You know, I’m not really that hungry.” Emma studies her sister’s expression. “Would you eat this one for me?”

  Bryne‘s eyes brighten. “Sure! I can eat it.”

  “It went well?” Henry asks as he kisses his wife on the cheek. Emma listens to their conversation in the corner as Bryne happily chews on the sugary treat.

  “She’s perfect.” Bethany sighs. “The doctor will be back shortly.”

  Emma grips the thin sheet that covers the bed. The window is open. She can jump through it. Death on her own terms sounds much better than a life decided by them.

  “There’s jelly inside,” Bryne squeals. “Emma, try a teeny tiny bite of this. It’s so yummy.”

  Emma shudders, letting the thought of freedom dissipate into the ventilated air of the room.

  “Is it blackberry jelly?” she asks.

  ***

  “Everything is perfect.” Dr. Briar smiles at Bethany and Henry. “She is a perfect specimen.”

  She is right here, Emma thinks. Bryne crawls into her lap and Emma wraps her slender arms around the child. Ever since Bryne was born, she’d always preferred the company of her older sister. Most nights the girl climbed into her bed after all the lights in the house were out. Emma never minded. None of her friends had any siblings.

  “I am a little concerned about the timeline of this.” Henry scratches his head in thought. Hope rises in Emma’s chest as a relieving sigh. Maybe her father can fix this.

  “Don’t worry about a thing.” The doctor smiles and the white whiskers of his mustache raise with the expression. His liver spotted thumb swipes up across the device in his hands.

  “We’ve made remarkable progress.” He speaks these words theatrically, putting on a show for her parents. “I remember when we woke our darling Bethany up. What was it, seventeen years ago now?”

  “Nineteen.” Bethany blushes and Emma fights the urge to gag. “The year before Emma was born.”

  “Nineteen years,” Dr. Briar continues, “but it seems like only yesterday.”

  Bryne lays her head on Emma’s shoulder and softly begins to hum. She hugs her sister tighter. Despite the melody, her ears focus desperately on the doctor’s every word.

  He stretches his back and neck, scanning the room for a swivel stool. It sits beside Emma’s feet where Bryne left it when she used it to crawl onto the bed. Without so much as a glance at Emma, he pulls a stool over and plops down upon it in front of her parents.

  “Where were we?” He adjusts his glasses as he stares at the screen. “Oh yes, data. When Bethany went in, we were expecting 40 to 60 years. With a decrease in the world population accelerating as fast as it is due to this natural phenomenon, we’ve been able to reduce that time to 25 years.”

  “Think of that.” The doctor slaps his thigh and laughs while Emma suffocates under the weight of the words that hang in the air. “In just your lifetime, Bethany, we’ve been able to cut wait time in half.”

  But it isn’t in her lifetime, Emma wants to scream. She should have already been dead by now. Bryne continues to sing and Emma smooths the golden hair on her little head.

  “I still don’t understand.” Henry chews his lip. “If you’ve been able to reduce it that drastically is there even a need for this program anymore?”

  “Unfortunately, yes.” Dr. Briar removes his glasses and rubs his eyes before replacing them. “The world population is not at manageable levels and the rate of infertility is still increasing. This biological reaction to our circumstances concerns us. With the slow to change genetic human system, we could see the end of our species in the next 200 years. Thankfully we have the foresight to stop this unlike many of our extinct mammal cousins. With Bethany, and now remarkably Emma, as our outliers to this phenomenon we can save humanity.”

  “You might have to walk me through this again.” Henry shrugs. “I still don’t understand why you need to freeze my daughter.”

  Thank you, Daddy, Emma struggles to keep from crying out loud as Bryne drifts into sugar tainted dreams in her arms.

  “We prefer not to call it a freeze here.” Dr. Briar stands from his stool and winks. “There is no other option. With the alarming rate of female and male infertility, we need to preserve perfect female specimens in case we never get optimal rates back. It’s really a simple system. We put our fertile girls to sleep until population levels drop enough that we can allow them to wake and start families of their own.”

  “Like I said,” the doctor continues, acknowledging Henry’s nod of acceptance and ignoring the burning rage on Emma’s face. “She’ll be out of here in no time at all.”

  ***

  “Just put your finger here.” The nurse smiles at Emma as she holds the screen in front of her.

  “And if I don’t?” Emma glares at the nurse in defiance. The woman casts a confused glance over her shoulder toward Emma’s parents.

  “She’s just playing,” Bethany giggles nervously. “Do you mind giving us one more minute?”

  The nurse arches her eyebrow as she steps quietly into the hall. Emma stares unblinking at the door. The saline running through the IV port in her arm is cold, but she doesn’t feel it because she is numb. Bryne snores on the chair beside the hospital bed.

  “I know this is hard.” Bethany sits on the edge of the thin mattress and lowers her head
as she speaks.

  “This was hard for me too. My world was so different when I went to sleep. There was fighting and fear and confusion. When the first batch of us fertile girls were set up here in the hospital, they televised the event. It gave a lost world hope that things weren’t going to be as bad as they seemed. And guess what? It worked. I had a lot of pressure to deal with, but so do you. You are the beacon for future generations. You are the salvation to this way of life. Everyone will know if you fail. They’ll blame you. They’ll blame all of us. And since you think that my sacrifice was for nothing, at least think of Bryne and the life she will live if people hear that her sister refused to do this.”

  Emma blinks as she stares at her mother’s face. It’s beautiful and kind. The face she remembers comforting her when she came home from school crying one day after the group of southside old women teased her about her expensive clothes. She doesn’t understand how that gentle face can be so cruel right now.

  “Bryne wake up.” Emma nudges her little sister. Bryne stirs and rubs a tiny fist across her sleep crested eyes.

  “I love you more than anything,” Emma says, kissing the top of the child’s head and ignoring her mother’s tears. “I have to go away for a while, but I promise I’ll come back to you.”

  “Is it time for you to go to sleep?” Bryne yawns.

  “Yep.” Emma smiles.

  “Okay.” She wraps her arms around her older sister and kisses her forehead. “Go to sleep. I’ll see you when you wake up tomorrow.”

  “We are ready.” Henry’s voice is flat as he opens the door to the hospital room. The nurse comes shuffling back in, annoyed at the inconvenience.

  “I need your fingerprint here.” She pushes the tablet forward. Emma’s eyes never leave the harsh woman’s face as she lifts her arm with the taped IV needle and places her finger on the screen. She refuses to look at her parents. Instead, she clings to Bryne’s tiny hand as the nurse releases the button for the medicine into her veins.