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

by Heather Carson

  “We must hurry,” she says to me, and I agree. We waste no time as we wind our way silently through the underground tunnels to Rathaus.

  She opens a door and strides through. She knows these secret tunnels well. I follow her more cautiously, but I freeze in place as I see the room into which she has led me. My gaze sweeps the room, unable to grasp the scene I see before me. Rows upon rows of partially formed bodies – of corpses – float in jars and tanks as far as the eye can see. A wave of horror flows through me and nausea churns in my belly.

  I turn to the Piper, revulsion creeping over my skin. “Did you know?” I ask her.

  She nods. “I knew.”

  “But how – why?”

  “There’s something here, something in your water or your soil – no one knows exactly – but it caused the first genetic mutation. Somehow, malnourished though you were, sickness avoided you. The scientists have been testing, cloning, genetically selecting for what would effectively be immortality. To be perfected and sold to the highest bidder, of course. And in the meantime, all these subjects upon which they can perform any number of tests,” she finishes bitterly.

  “Why didn’t you do anything?” I ask.

  “I always stand by an agreement. As I said, there is always a price to pay. You didn’t know?” she asks. There is no judgement in her tone, only gentle curiosity.

  I shake my head, too many emotions writhing through me to give any other response. The Piper approaches and places a gentle hand on my shoulder, melting some of my tension away. “We had no idea why they wanted the children or what they were doing to them.”

  “There is nothing you can do for them,” she says, nodding towards the scene before me. “But we can still save the others. I need you to stay here, to keep watch. Your father’s associates, they will trust you. I will take care of anyone ahead of me, I cannot succeed if more are coming in from behind.”

  Still numb with shock, I nod.

  “Good,” she says. “I will return. Be safe, Katja.” And with that, she disappears through a doorway to another room.

  I try not to look around as I wait for her return. Seconds bleed into minutes and nightmares dance through my head at what she could be doing. Periodically I glance anxiously at the metal ceiling, as though I can see through it to the impending dawn. Anxiety twists in my chest and I force my breathing to slow. My heart rate remains uncontrollable, galloping along as though it can speed the Piper on her travels.

  Finally, the sound of a hundred scurrying feet arrives and I step forward, eager for us to be on our way. To my surprise, the Piper has not just brought the dozen or so children that my father had intended to retain, but all the children who had been taken for all those years.

  “What-” I begin to ask, but the Piper silences me.

  “Not now,” she says. And so, though a thousand questions burn in my chest, I acquiesce and we begin our trek out of the tunnels. When we emerge, we are in a place I do not recognise and dawn is lighting the sky in tendrils of silver and gold.

  “We must go this way,” says the Piper as she gestures towards a narrow path through the mountains. How she convinced the many children to follow her, I do not know, but the sun is creeping towards noon by the time we reach the safety of the mountain pass.

  “My father will come for them,” I say to the Piper.

  She shakes her head. “He will never find them.”

  “Why?” I ask her, and though the question is abrupt, she does not mistake what I am asking.

  “Would you have me leave them there?” she asks me. “Returning to families that they never knew? Families that gave them up? Living in a village ruled over by one such as him?” Then she pauses. “I am sorry,” she says. “I know he is your father.”

  I shake my head. I feel no loyalty to the man I have discovered he is.

  “I don’t even know your name,” I say to the Piper, somewhat irrelevantly, and she laughs. A rich, clear sound that thrills through me.

  “Piper. My name is Piper,” she says, sounding amused, and I wonder how I could not have realised it before. “You will come with me?” she asks and for the first time in our many conversations she sounds uncertain and I blush even as my heart beats faster.

  “I will,” I say in a soft voice, and she squeezes my hand.

  “I am glad,” she says, and there is something in her tone that I cannot identify, but that makes me blush even harder. Then she stands and addresses the hundreds of children who are milling around us.

  “It is time for us to move on,” she says. “Any who do not wish to come with me may return to the town, but remember all that I have told you.”

  All the children move forward, except for one young boy, who limps towards us.

  “I twisted my ankle on the pass,” he says to Piper. “I cannot continue my journey on foot.” He looks longingly at her. There is sympathy in her face, but also resolution.

  “I am sorry, but in that case you had better return to the town,” she states. “Although it pains me to say it.”

  The boy nods.

  “How do you know he won’t say anything?” I quietly ask her.

  She shrugs. “There is nothing he can tell. By the time he has returned to the town we shall be long gone. They will not be able to find us.”

  Piper moves to the front of the group and begins the long walk away. I stand and watch the line of children wind along, moving further and further from the one lame little boy who will return to Hamelin to tell his tale. I watch until I can no longer see him, and then I join the tail of children following Piper.

  ***

  They say that to this day the town of Hamelin mourns the loss of its children, the memory of their departure inscribed on the city gate for all to see. A story told of a Piper who stole them away. But I do not know this for certain as I have never returned. Sometimes I think of my father and the town we left behind, but it is not with regret. My home is with Piper now, and the children we saved.

  Christine French lives in Melbourne, Australia, where it doesn’t snow nearly as often as she’d like, but does have some of the world’s best coffee so the trade-off is almost worth it. In addition to the cold and coffee, Christine has a love of reading and writing that follows her nearly everywhere. An avid reader, Christine enjoys mystery, romance, fantasy, science fiction, and dystopia. She enjoys writing the same – except mysteries in which she can never work out whodunit or how.

  Christine lives with her husband, daughter, and stepchildren and cannot wait to use them as beta readers. When not reading, writing, or consuming copious amounts of coffee, Christine can be found pottering around the garden hoping that this time she’ll beat the various bugs and birds to the vegetable patch. You can find out more about Christine’s upcoming works at www.christinefrench.com

  The Seven Kids

  By Audrey M. Stevens

  Seven children wander through the woods. They know not where they are going, but know they can’t go back. Each of their skin is a different tone and their features vary like the difference between snowflakes. Not a single one is related by blood, though they act as if they are siblings. All of them are classified as children, forced to use their limited experiences in order to survive. The older ones lead the way in an attempt to keep them all safe. Grayson, Riley, Nikki, and Dexter are all under ten while Emma, Hannah, and Tommy take their role as older children seriously.

  “We have been walking for hours,” Grayson complains.

  “And we will keep walking until we can’t,” Emma replies, stomping forward through the forest.

  “But I’m cold,” Nikki whines loudly, slowly falling farther and farther behind the group.

  Hannah stops and turns to face the younger, whiny girl behind her. “And you will be even colder if we stop,” she hisses in a loud whisper. “Now, keep quiet! We don’t know these woods.” The unknown forest has thick branches that seem to have no end.

  “No one will be out this far from the city,” Nikki, the youn
gest, contests, dragging her feet.

  “You don’t know that.” Hannah shakes her head and pivots quickly on her heels to resume walking.

  “Why would they?” Nikki says in a lower tone, still trailing Hannah. “There is nothing out here. We probably will just die out here from starvation and thirst.” Hannah doesn’t turn around to refute Nikki’s words. Nikki sighs loudly, when she realizes she is being ignored. “So, now, instead of a quick death, we will just have a slow agonizing one?”

  Hannah stops once again, causing Nikki to bump into her back. She slowly turns around and looks down at the younger girl with anger. “You don’t understand what kind of death awaited us,” she says through gritted teeth.

  “Like we know what will happen out here?” Nikki raises her arms and gestures to the empty forest around them.

  “At least we have a say in our future out here,” Hannah sneers.

  “Not really,” Nikki says pushing past the older girl, purposefully bumping Hannah on the shoulder.

  “Will you two stop it?” Tommy sighs, obviously annoyed by the juvenile bickering. “We made our decision.”

  “Not like we really got a say in the matter,” Dexter scoffs under his breath, knowing the youngest of the group didn’t get a vote.

  Riley who is walking beside Dexter hears his soft words. “We never do,” she agrees.

  “What did you say?” Hannah storms toward them.

  “Nothing,” Riley and Dexter say in unison, letting Hannah pass.

  “Do you always have to pick a fight with the younger ones?” Tommy asks Hannah as she joins him.

  “It’s like they don’t want to be protected!” Hannah scoffs, matching his strides.

  “You know we stand a better chance together,” Tommy reminds her.

  The moon lights their path as they slowly walk through the dim forest. The light wind rattles the leaves on the trees and twigs snap under their stomping feet. Their breaths leave a small fog with each exhale as they silently continue their journey farther and farther away from the city.

  “Maybe you are just keeping us all around so you can eat us when you are older,” Nikki says, joining in their conversation.

  “I will never stoop that low! You know that!” Hannah replies with disgust.

  “I’m sure that’s what they all say.” Nikki shrugs.

  “None of us will be that vile. Plus, you will most certainly taste sour,” Emma adds nudging Nikki in the arm, making her smile for a moment.

  “Maybe we should just walk in silence for a while,” Tommy suggests. “Think we can handle that until we find some shelter?”

  The younger ones grunt and kick rocks in defiance while the older kids march forward with purpose. Regardless, they all stand united, fighting against the beasts of the world. Unlike the creatures of the wild, the beasts they fear look much like they do now, only older.

  Aside from fear, survival keeps their legs moving. It wasn’t safe on the outskirts of the city any longer and the limited resources nearby were quickly dwindling, like they are everywhere. The best chance was to escape into the forest and hope to find some sort of food and a water source able to sustain them until it was time to move again. No place is safe for long, no matter how perfect it may seem. Eventually, the adults will come in search of their next meal.

  Due to their ages, all the children traveling together are at risk of being the next target. The adults don’t go for the younger prey, not enough meat they say. They also try to avoid the older, stronger humans, fearing they will lose in a fight to the death. Instead, the adults band together, three or four of them, and hunt down the adolescent kids. Adolescents are still weak, but have enough meat to fill the stomach.

  These adults don’t view themselves as beasts. In fact, they have an excuse for every young human they feast upon. The small conscience they have left inside them has been twisted into thinking they are saving the younger ones from a life of hardships that the world has left for its few survivors. But in fact, they are just desperate and hungry, stooping to the lowest of human morals just to survive another day.

  For now, the horrors of the city are behind them and hopefully, so are the adults. These kids need to find a place to rest for the day ahead. It’s not safe to be outside in the light of the sun. The darkness of night conceals their presence from the adults and keeps them safe.

  The sky is slowly illuminating; though the sun has not yet broken over the horizon. “We are running out of time,” Hannah says to Tommy as if he didn’t already know.

  “Spread out,” he calls to everyone. They each give a small nod and disperse in a different direction. This tactic has been used many times before and is well practiced. Each of them will search for a place that either works as a shelter, or can be put together as one quickly.

  Within moments a whistle is heard in the winds and all the children come toward the sound. Riley and Dexter have stumbled upon a brush pile among a patch of thorn bushes. “Looks like it’s already claimed,” Grayson notes, gesturing at the compacted bedding inside.

  “My guess is it’s an old shelter for a deer and her fawn.” Some of the other children perk up at the chance for a meal. “There is a very slim chance they are still around, but if they are, they won’t bother us when they come back. They will just find somewhere else to sleep for the day,” Tommy says examining the makeshift shelter. The little hope the children have for a live animal slowly diminishes.

  “It’s small, but it will work,” Hannah remarks. She quickly crawls inside as if the looming sunlight will burn her skin.

  “Gather a few branches to conceal the entrance,” Tommy instructs Grayson and Nikki. “This will have to do.” While the two youngest find some branches on the ground nearby, the others begin to lick the morning dew off of the leaves of trees. Once they are satisfied, they make their way inside the small burrow.

  By the time Grayson and Nikki return, the others have covered the small area inside with their bodies. Grayson stands the branches up on the side of the thorn bushes so that they can be easily reached from inside the brush. Then, Grayson and Nikki make their way into the shelter, climbing over and on top of the bodies already positioned inside. They look like a pack of freshly delivered puppies, making it difficult to tell where one body ends and another begins. They don’t mind, though. Once the branches are moved to conceal any presence of an opening among the bushes, rest finds each of their exhausted bodies easily.

  ***

  Even the heat of the day doesn’t disturb the children. They all stay asleep, feeling comforted by the tangled web of bodies around them. No one wakes until the loud song of the crickets lulls them out of their slumber.

  Dexter is the first to open his eyes. He stretches his body out of its current fetal position and forces his extremities into the bodies surrounding him. Grayson groans as Dexter’s foot slowly squishes against his shoulder and Hannah moans as a breath is forced out of her stomach by an elbow. Slowly, the mountain of children stir and shake until Tommy opens up the entrance so that they may flood back out into the wilderness.

  The sun has begun its descent, but still shines its light on the forest. “We can’t risk leaving yet,” Emma says in a soft whisper to Tommy. “Plus, we need to find some food and water if we are going to walk all night again.” Tommy nods.

  “Go with your partners. No one wander too far,” he instructs. “And stay quiet. If you find an abundance of food, gather enough for the group. As soon as the sun sets, we leave.”

  They all slowly nod their heads in understanding and carefully split off into different directions, hoping to find some sort of nutrition. “I’m real hungry,” Grayson admits to Emma. He holds his stomach as if the weight of his arms might alleviate the feeling of emptiness.

  “Me too.” Emma swallows the small amount of spit that has accumulated in her mouth. It isn’t enough to satisfy her body’s growing need for substance.

  “Will we really have to walk all night again if we don’t find anything t
o eat?” Grayson asks, afraid of the answer.

  “I know it feels like your stomach is about to eat itself, but we can go another day or two without eating much and be fine.” Emma tries to stay positive for the younger boy, though, she too is feeling weaker by the minute.

  Still within eyesight, Nikki and Thomas wander through their part of the terrain. “What are you hoping to find?” Nikki asks Thomas who is keeping his eyes on the ground.

  “Mushrooms,” Thomas answers.

  “Fungus?” Nikki asks in disgust.

  “I think you mean, food,” Thomas corrects with a smile on his face.

  “No. I meant fungus,” she states. “I keep an eye out for nuts and berries.”

  Although they are the largest group, Hannah, Riley, and Dexter stay close to one another, fearing what may be lurking in the forest. They can no longer see the other two groups, but know how to get back to the rendezvous location when the sun sets. “We only have like fifteen minutes to find something,” Hannah says in a whisper to the younger children.

  Dexter turns his head to find the sun. It is quickly setting and it will be too dark to search for food soon. He picks up his pace and the two girls follow close on his heels.

  Suddenly, the forest opens up into a small clearing and Dexter immediately halts, causing the girls to bump into his still body. “What are you…” Hannah begins to complain, but stops when she looks past Dexter and into the clearing. A garden filled with rows of various types of vegetation stands in front of them, begging to be picked and eaten.

  A smile forms over Dexter’s face as he begins to step into the clearing. Hannah quickly grabs his shirt and pulls him back into the concealment of the forest. “What are you doing?” Dexter asks as saliva forms in the corners of his mouth. “Don’t you see all that food?”

  Dexter frees himself from Hannah’s grasp, but is tripped by Riley before he can make it out of the tree line. His face burns red with anger. He rolls over to yell at the young girl, but notices her staring off to the other side of the clearing. He sits up and follows her eyes to a small cabin sitting in the opposite corner. Smoke is coming out of its stone chimney. The three of them stay in the trees, watching the smoke rise and then disappear into the sky above. The scene looks like an old painting, but there are no rips in this perfect image. The vegetation sways beautifully with the small breeze, wafting simple smells of dirt and growth into their noses. The small plantation looks peaceful and serene. Even as the sunlight fades, the scene stays beautiful, begging to be enjoyed.