Twisted Fayrie Tales

by Sally Odgers

  His eyes bulged and his chest concaved as he squeaked, “Yes, I can see that. You're a real Beauty. So how about getting off me? I want to breathe again."

  "Kiss me again my Prince, and I'll be yours forever,” she promised, laying her lips on his with total abandon.

  His last conscious thought as he succumbed to years of rotting fumes and mountainous flesh was that at least he was dying in the arms of a real live princess.

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  A Dog's Life

  By

  Kandy Phair

  Zeke was in pain. All day he'd worked like a dog in the house getting it just right for visitors and now his feet hurt and his back was about to give out. It wasn't as if the visitors would even notice the clean floor or the fresh flowers he'd picked. Grandma Hood would see to that. She always made out the cleaning was done by contractors and Zeke was always gone before the guests arrived. It wouldn't suit her classy image to have to admit she'd actually employed a wolf—no matter how clean he kept his teeth or how often he bathed. He was on the bottom rung of the employee ladder.

  Her granddaughter was coming today and Granny had asked Zeke stay out of the way. One would think she was ashamed she employed a servant, even if he was large, black and hairy. Zeke had even offered to have his teeth filed down to an acceptable length so he wouldn't frighten people, but Granny had said not to bother ... no one would see him anyway. In any event, she wasn't about to pay for cosmetic dental work and his fangs were handy when she wanted to scare away encyclopedia salesmen and various assorted vermin. Zeke thought that with her face, she could do the job on her own.

  Just as Zeke was slipping out the back door for the day Granny called out, “Oh, Zeke, would you pop over to the edge of the forest? My granddaughter, Red Riding Hood, will be coming along the path any time now. It's a bit dangerous in the woods these days and I want you to see she arrives safely. Keep out of sight; don't let her see you watching her. She tends to get a bit touchy if she thinks someone is spying on her."

  "Sure Granny,” Zeke replied with a toothy smile. At least until Granny gave him one of her please-hide-your-teeth-looks. Then he quickly closed his mouth and, with pursed lips, said, “It'll be my pleasure. You know I enjoy strolling in the woods. The smell of the pine trees and flowers is lovely."

  "Quit romantic, Zeke. It just makes you look more sinister than usual. I'm expecting your brother to bring wood later. If you don't watch yourself, I'll give him your job. At least he knows how to keep his mouth shut. And, while you're out you can do a bit of shopping for me. Here's a list.” She shoved sheet of paper into his paw and went back to bed.

  Zeke's back gave out just as he reached the path in the woods. He was loaded to the gills with fancy cakes and goodies for Granny to serve at tea, but they tumbled to the ground as he fell to his knees, groaning in pain. That was how Red Riding Hood found him. He lay on the ground and looked up at her, a sweet, innocent looking girl with a lovely red cloak and hood. He felt his heart take a leap and knew he was in love. She was everything a lonely bachelor needed to warm his nights and fill his days with joyful anticipation.

  "Who are you?” she asked, bending over him while poking with an impatient finger. “What's wrong with you?"

  "I'm Zeke. I work for your Granny and I have a sore back."

  "Rubbish,” she exclaimed. “My Granny doesn't employ servants like you. She has a beautiful house and lots of money. You'd be the last one she'd choose. You look like you just crawled out of a cave."

  Zeke's heart took a nosedive and he knew he'd never recover from the blow of her rejection. His frustration and anger made him decide to teach her a lesson. He said, “You're right. I don't work for your Granny, not any more. I'm just lying here in case a ripe little plum like you comes along."

  "You keep your paws to yourself. I've met guys like you before, wolves who take advantage of innocent girls. I'll bet you even have a lair."

  "You bet I do. All decked out with velvet curtains, a double bed and a bottle of wine.” Zeke thought of the tiny mud hut out the back of Granny's house he called home. It was so small he couldn't swing a cat, even when he managed to catch one for supper.

  "Well, I won't go with you. I'd sooner die."

  "That can be arranged."

  "You're a beast."

  "You've got that right Miss Riding Hood.” Zeke climbed to his feet and stifled a groan of pain. Then he snatched her tiny hand and pulled her through the woods in the direction of Granny's house.

  He expected a verbal protest, but didn't expect the sharp kick to his the shins the tiny red shod foot delivered with surprising force. It made the pain in his back seem mild in comparison. “I said I didn't want to go to your lair. You better watch out Zeke. My Granny will skin you alive if you lay a finger on me."

  She looked with widening eyes at his huge paws and the long vicious claws standing out like sabers. “I mean, Granny will be cross if you lay a claw on me. You haven't seen her in a fit. It's not a pretty sight. She foams at the mouth and her face turns bright red ... matches my cloak beautifully.” Backing away without looking, Red promptly fell over a tree root.

  "It's not your day is it Red?” Zeke's, humor returned as he hauled her to her feet. “Come on, I'm just taking you to your Granny's house."

  "Why should I believe you?"

  "Because I look sweet and innocent like you.” He laughed when she gave an outraged squeal.

  "You look about as innocent as a boa constrictor."

  "Then you better watch out; you might become my main squeeze.” When he grinned, his long feral teeth and slanting red eyes shocked her into silence.

  Red went quietly with Zeke as they made their way through tall trees to Granny's house. She kept her eyes peeled on the forest for help, but no one was about.

  Granny came to the door and scowled. “Red,” she called. “Who is that with you?"

  "It's Zeke Granny. He dragged, her, brought me home."

  "Thank you Zeke,” Granny said through clenched teeth, her eyebrows twitching, her head jerking in dismissal of her servant.

  "That's okay Granny. I've done your shopping.” Zeke tried not to grin at her antics. He knew his teeth weren't his best feature.

  "What are you talking about? That's not my shopping.” With one hand Granny shoved Red into the house and with the other, maneuvered Zeke into of the yard. Her sharp nails in the long matted fur of his back were an irritation he could do without. When she dug harder, piercing his skin, he let out a ferocious snarl as he turned on her.

  "Watch it, Granny.” He'd had enough of the old woman's attitude and decided to teach her a lesson. “I'm feeling a little peckish right now. I could do with a snack.” His red eyes glowed as she inched her way to the house. “There's enough cake here to feed a pack."

  "Invite him to tea Granny,” said Red, sensing the conflict and relishing it. “After all, he did bring me home. We owe him a cup of tea and a cake at least."

  "Come in then Zeke,” said Grandma Hood reluctantly. “I know when I'm licked."

  "Licking's good,” agreed her furry, unwelcome guest. “But I had something with a little more bite to it in mind."

  Granny blanched and Red Riding Hood grinned nastily. This was getting better and better.

  While Granny made tea, Red turned to Zeke sitting comfortably with his legs crossed on the sofa, his long furry tail draped over his lap. “Your ears are huge, Zeke. They poke into to the ceiling and trail down to your collar.” She looked at his furry naked chest and said with widened eyes, “At least they would if you had a collar. And you're shedding. It's gross."

  "My ears are big, that's true. I can hear food coming through the trees. I like to eat fresh meat.” Saliva dripped from his mouth as he looked at Red and thought about all the food available in the forest, was still available should he decide to partake. Hastily he wiped his chin with the tablecloth, worried he was getting too much into the spirit of the his thoughts. His brother would say he was revertin
g back to the primitive.

  "Your eyes ... I've never seen such red eyes before, Zeke."

  "Yeah, well I have great night vision. Infrared. I can see you very well in the dark.” He watched her smile innocently, her blonde prettiness clearly a front for a devious mind.

  "Your teeth sure are big; kind of long and pointed with brown gums.” A fascinated Red peered closely and inspected Zeke's mouth, putting a finger to the sharp tip of one long tooth. “Whew! You could use some breath mints."

  He growled low in his throat at the insult, bared his fangs and breathed heavily into her face while he licked his lips. Red took a quick breath and moved to a chair further away. “Big teeth are helpful for ripping a carcass apart. I enjoy a good meal, especially when I work up an appetite chasing it beforehand. Hunger gives you an edge when you're hunting for food."

  "Zeke, are you scaring my granddaughter with your tales?” asked Granny sharply from the doorway. She put the tea tray down and sat on the sofa next to him. Beneath the table she kicked his shin hard. Unfortunately she hit the same spot Red had hit earlier and he leapt up from the seat in pain.

  "That's it!” he snarled, saliva dripping from his mouth, his long red tongue curling up over his snout. “You think you can do whatever you like to me and I'll just lie back and take it. No more, Granny. The wolf's coming out of his cage and turning feral so watch out."

  "What's going on here?” asked a deep male voice from the doorway.

  Zeke jumped, dropping Granny down onto the floor where she lay in a dazed heap. He hadn't realized he'd picked the old woman up in his rage. “I quit, Granny,” he shouted. “I can't work for you any more.” He turned to leave and found a shotgun leveled at his belly button.

  "I'm sure something can be worked out here.” The newcomer looked from one to the other and frowned.

  Red Riding Hood clenched her hands around the gun and growled, “I can handle this. Zeke's been asking for it all day.” Her eyes took on a feral gleam at the thought of decorating her bedroom with a black fur floor rug. She pulled the trigger but the only sound was a click. The gun was empty. She threw it down in disgust. “Damn. I should have known Granny was too mean to actually buy shells for that thing. Next time I want to shoot some vermin I'll bring my own gun. At least then I'll know it's loaded.” She turned and stomped out of the room leaving the males looking at each other in confusion. It was hard to believe such fair delicacy harbored the soul of a ruthless hunter intent on the kill.

  Zeke said, “We better get out of here, Jake, before she finds the gun under Granny's pillow. It is loaded. By the way, I think you can forget about a job with Granny. You forgot to keep your mouth shut and she has a thing about teeth.” He and his brother left the house and loped for the hills, shedding the trappings of humankind as they went. It was time for them to return to the wolf pack where they could a least act in a civilized manner.

  A small Red cloaked figure watched them go, a snarl upon her lips and a hunting gleam in her eyes. Her Granny stood by her side and handed her the shotgun shells. “I'd get after them now Granddaughter before they get too far. I fancy wolf stew for supper and the Hoods have a reputation to maintain."

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  Pebbles in the Stream

  by

  Richard E Friesen

  I know the stories they tell, about the princess asleep in the castle and the hedge of magic thorns around it. They're wrong, of course. From the outside maybe it looked that way: a prince made it through the thorns and found the sleeping princess. A kiss woke her; the princess and her prince left together. He married her and had a happy life. That much is true, I guess.

  What happened inside, between the thorny hedge and the kiss, however, is another thing altogether.

  I sit by the fire and gaze out the window at the swaying summer grass and hear the buzzing of the bees below my window. The dark days of my youth seem far away now. If not for Cedric, my only son, I might be there still.

  Being young and foolish, when I heard of the beauty sleeping in the dark keep beyond the thorns, I set out to wake her. I knew enough to see what mistakes others had made, those who died in the thorns. Even so, it was a near thing. So I stood, exhausted and filthy with sweat, blood and dirt outside the castle, breathing the clean, still air.

  They say a little stone can change the course of a mighty river. Had the princess simply pricked her finger ten minutes later, or earlier. Had I but chosen to assail the east side instead of west. What a fickle thing is fate. Or was it magic? Itanna believed it so, her magic. I turned and walked left. Oh, that I had gone right! Then a different door, a different sight would have greeted me.

  I located a postern gate penetrating the curtain wall. I pushed and it opened. Had some boy on an errand forgotten to bar it? Or had this kingdom been so at peace it needed no locks?

  This back entry led me to the kitchen. There I found the first sleepers—cooks and maids and servants asleep on the hearth or with heads leaning on the table. I checked to see if they lived. On some I found a faint pulse, but all were warm, and none bloated or decaying.

  Strong magic had kept these good people asleep, and strong magic would surround the princess. I went seeking her to awaken them as much as her. Instead I encountered that stream-parting pebble and betrayed them.

  Along a corridor for servants I chanced to look through a door that stood ajar. I caught just a flash of cloth and skin, so I pushed the door open. There, on a wooden table lay a woman, embracing a man on top of her. Her skirts were around her waist, his pants around his ankles.

  I laughed. How odd to be enchanted asleep in such a position. I took a step into the room and out of myself. I stepped into the magic on that strange castle and could not turn away. Walking over for a closer look, I reached out to stroke her hair, for she was a young lass, and comely. When my glance turned to the man, though, I found him older, surely married. And from his clothes I guessed he might be a steward or some such—a man with position taking advantage of one under him.

  In my father's palace, what would I have done had I found the house steward in such a position? Taken him to the king. Or, perhaps, meted out justice myself. With a laugh, I threw the man to the ground and whipped out my sword. I intended, I swear, to hit him with the flat across the chest. As I stepped forward, I tripped and put my arm out to catch my fall. The blade slid into his chest.

  I stopped as the blood began to seep around the edges of my sword. He gasped, but didn't wake. He did die. The first man I'd ever killed, and it was an accident. I had practiced and trained as a soldier, but guards had always protected me from real battle.

  The feel of the skin and bone giving way before the steel in my hand shocked me. I pulled the sword from his ribs and sheathed it in his belly. I stabbed him again and again, relishing the feel of power, of being alive when he was dead.

  Then I turned back to the lass and found her legs spread, the flower of her womanhood beckoning. After all the years being drilled on consequences, I couldn't think of one reason to stop. For a moment I stood on the cusp, mesmerized. My foot lifted of its own accord. As if by magic, I was drawn toward her. Already aroused by my kill, I untied my trousers and entered her.

  Her only response was an occasional moan or whimper, as if she dreamed of what we did. I had never felt the like. Was it her lack of need that made her so fine? Was it the foreplay of my morning's exertions? Was it magic? I know only that I so enjoyed her, that when I finished I still wanted her. More, I wanted to see the rest of her body, her ivory stomach and firm breasts. To that end I drew my dagger and cut away her clothes.

  I grew hard again as I fondled her nipples and caressed her bare skin. Such was the pleasure as I entered her again that my hand slid across her belly. With the dagger still in my hand I cut her. That first time, surely, was an accident. I did not mean it, did not intend it. But by then I was caught and could not escape, the stream of magic drew me on. I did not stop with one shallow cut.

  I clo
sed the door behind me and leaned against the wall. I looked at my hands. They seemed the same as ever, but such things they had done. Unable to undo my actions, I went back to the kitchen to find water and wash. As I dried off, I remembered the princess asleep in the tower room. How had I forgotten her? I went searching.

  I found the guards then, asleep at their posts and along the walls. I found the king and queen in the great hall with a handful of nobles and the jester asleep in the center of the floor, leather balls scattered around him. I found food unspoiled and servants asleep in back corridors and behind doors as if waiting for their masters to wake.

  None of these things surprised me. The first surprise I found in the King's bedchamber. A woman lay asleep in his bed—too old to be his daughter and too unclothed to be aught but a mistress. Had the queen known of her?

  The second surprise occurred in that high room in the south tower, above the royal chambers but nearby. The princess lay on a simple down quilt—no bed, no finery, nothing fitting her station. As all the stories tell, a spinning wheel sat by the window, and on one finger she bore a small prick, a drop of blood. I stood before her and gazed down at her still and beautiful form. The stories I had heard did not do her justice. So fair she was, so innocent.

  How long I stood thus transfixed I could not say. My own growling stomach, so rude an interruption in that room, reminded me of the passage of time. Then I surprised all, except mayhap Itanna. I turned and made my way back down the stairs to partake of the King's feast. Afterwards I returned to the King's bedchamber to partake of his mistress.

  Carried away on the wings of lust and magic, what did I care for her willingness? What did I care for her desire?

  Days passed, and weeks. I searched the castle, I ate, I satisfied my young man's lust wherever I so felt it. It seemed as though if I wanted something I found it for the taking.

  I took up residence in the Queen's rooms, for she had a bed that suited me and no other slept there. I could have moved the King's mistress, but I saw no reason to. Nor did I see reason to sleep beside her.