We all grew up watching the fascinating tales of Disney, wishing for our fairytale Happily Ever After, much like our beloved characters'. But, sadly, not everything is a walk through a park, and in our world, good never truly triumphs over evil. So, are you up for knowing the reality of your favourite stories? Or would you rather believe those fantastical versions to be true? After all, ignorance is bliss, isn't it?
This is a work of fiction inspired by the Disney tales, all characters, plot ideas and locations mentioned in these stories belong to Disney unless the author has said otherwise. I own only the plot of these stories, nothing more and nothing less.
No part of this may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means without the written permission of the Author.
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Ankle-deep blades of grass swayed with the wind, the dewy substances dense and tangled like a horse's mane, moving like the ocean on a sunny, windswept day it's only confinements being the ancient trees and manor. Under one of those trees, a young lady lounged, the overhanging boughs providing her shade from the harsh sun. She gazed at the palace, her mind seemingly lost in the clouds, presumedly contemplating her status as the prince's mystery lover.
Her head was cluttered with memories of that exquisite night, and the time the prince and she spent together, laughing, dancing and conversing beneath their masks until she had to flee due to her stepmother's carriage departing.
The prince seemed very persistent to unearth the identity of his beloved, demanding to view the mask of every woman in the kingdom. Ella was thrilled at this revelation. Could not wait for him to sweep her off her feet and away from her nightmare of a life.
She had previously packed a handbag with her mother's slippers, her mask from the ball and the little trinkets her father brought back from his voyages; all she needed was her prince to arrive. She stole one last glance at the scenery before heading back to finish up the chores.
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The royal trumpet cut through the light afternoon chatter as the prince's cohort paraded onto their 'humble estate.' Ella shot down the steps of the manor like a bullet, entering the living room packed with the royal guards and her stepfamily.
"Kit you are finally here!"
The prince scowled as he studied the young maiden, looking between her and Anastasia Tremaine, the girl he waltzed with and the only girl aware of his nickname.
"Pardon me, who are you?"
Ella's previously elated mood switched into extreme mortification as she held out her mask, "I am the girl you have been searching for, I am Ella."
Drizella let out a snicker as she clasped her sister's shoulder.
"My, my, it seems we have another faker."
Her sentence was followed by an icy glare, one that Ella returned.
Ella had taken every hit and blow they threw at her, but this, stealing her happily ever after, was low even for such vile monsters.
"I am no fake! I have my mask to prove it!"
The prince glared at the girl; he had not searched the whole kingdom to find his dear, only to deal with a fake remarkably committed to her role. They went back and forth, arguing and proving 'facts,' eating away at the prince's endurance, causing him to snap.
"Enough! Guards, take away this maid and stitch her mouth shut!"
He clutched onto Anastasia's hand and stood up, astounded at the lack of movement.
"Did you fools not hear me clear enough? I ordered you to stitch the little vixen's mouth shut, and while you're at it, inform the palace workers to prepare for our wedding."
The pot-bellied guard bowed his chubby head and snatched Ella's hands, ignoring her protests.
"No! He's mistaken! Drizella, stepmother, tell him the truth, tell him Anastasia spent the whole night by the ballroom, please, spare me from this slander!"
Her pleads met deaf ears as she was hauled out of her childhood home and cast into the back of a carriage like a sack of potatoes.
The closer they got to the palace, Ella turned more depressed and insane, reminiscing over the way she was treated after her father's death and the events of the previous afternoon. The luxurious life she was accustomed to had been snatched away, and she was treated like a slave. All of her belongings were given to her stepsisters, and her living quarters were replaced with the attic.
The once innocent lamb was turned into a hardened fox as Ella had to learn thieves' tricks to scavenge bits of food and bursts of fresh air. Yet she was naive enough to believe the fairytales fed to her. The truth was like a sour taste on her tongue, unpleasant and hard to swallow.
The majestic palace loomed over her head as she was dragged and tossed into a cell part of the deserted dungeons, the outsides coated with glass to ensure no prisoner would escape, after all, who would walk through a hallway full of glass?
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The quivering quim of a healer held the girl's jaw as the surgeon sewed her mouth shut. Expertly piercing the skin around her mouth and working his way across, finally finishing it off and cleaning up the blood surrounding her mouth before packing up and leaving the unconscious girl's cell.
Ella pulled herself up, groaning at the pain across her mouth. A bony hand swept across her lips, eliciting a muffled blood-curdling scream as tears rolled past her chin. She had expected the prince to be merciful, her Kit would never do such a thing! She hung her head like a dying flower and sobbed her heart out, each shake of her shoulders, reminding her of a different aspect of her sob story.
Her voice, the one thing she held dear, was gone, locked up in its cage of stitches as she was in her cell. Life had dealt her a cruel hand, but she was set on setting things straight. She pushed herself up, her mind stuck on one-word revenge.
This wasn't just going to be a simple slander event against the prince and her stepfamily, no, she would ruin them how they wrecked her life.
"Oh Anastasia, how would it feel dying a day before your wedding, and then have your husband go crazy at your loss?"
A malnourished arm reached through the cell's bars and grabbed at the pieces of glass, her fingers latching onto the sharpest part, leaving a few cuts on her palms as she worked on the stitches. The thread was knit like a sailor's rope and would have to be cut open carefully.
Lifting her shaky arm, she tried splitting open one end, only to cut her lip. Another technique came across her mind as she pursed her lips, attempting to cut only the last stitch.
A sparse snip resonated in her cell, followed by several snips as she worked across her mouth. Her dry lips made a slight sound as they moved apart, easing her jaw. She then worked on the lock using a bobby pin from her hair, knowing how to pick one after the years of sneaking food from the kitchens.
Grabbing a few shards of glass and slinking through the shadows, Ella made her way towards the duo of guards on watch, grinning and approaching them.
"Evening, boys!"
Smiling at their shocked expressions, she stabbed both of them in the eyes., blinding them before promptly cutting their wrists and throat, allowing them to bleed out and running down the rest of the hallway, hissing at a few sharp cuts through her feet.
It seemed lady luck was on her side for Ella encountered a maid right outside the dungeons. She sneaked up on her like a graceless ballerina and swiftly cut her throat. Making sure to cover her mouth with her bloody palm.
"Thank you for the clothes," the unhinged girl muttered as she slipped on the slightly loose uniform.
The prince was very insistent on having Anastasia's room right across his before their wedding, making it much easier for Ella's plan to work.
All the palace workers were busy in the grand ballroom, too busy to care about a maid sneaking through the hallways, her shadow and the trails of the blood being the only signs of her existence, the latter being impossible to see on a new moon night.
The guards outside the Royal Wing were easy to persuade, Ella claimed the soon to be princess had asked for a maid. The unfortunate thing had a horrible backache she needed tending to.
Thankfully her stepfamily's rooms were located in the same place, the guards only patrolling outside said chamber.
Drizella and Lady Tremaine were her first victims, she wanted to save the best for the last after all. The eldest step sister's snores invaded Ella's ears as she dozed off on a placid island of ignorance, unaware of her doomed future.
Ella was appalled as pity and guilt invaded her heart, remembering how Drizella was an angel compared to her sister and mother. An act of kindness doesn't excuse a lifetime of cruelty; she reminded herself, making quick, precise cuts across her stepsister's body before moving onto her stepmother's room.
Her mouth was the first target, sewing it shut using the thread and needles in her ebony dresser before she awoke. Her eyes widened at the sight of Ella's face, and she let out pitiful screeches of help.
"Stepmother! Fancy seeing you here!"
The elderly woman's face paled as horror and fear accompanied the drum-like beats of her heart. Lady Tremaine had never experienced as much pain as she had when that needle pierced her skin.
Ella cackled and dug the longest shard of glass into her wrist, dragging it up to her elbow and leaving it there, doing the same for her other hand and legs to ensure she wouldn't fight back. Sweat and blood covered Ella's arms as her victim pitifully screeched, her skin now coated with layers of blood, her body as stiff as a board.
Blood ran along Lady Tremaine's body as her abdomen was cut open, Ella accessing her intestines and tying them in a pretty bow.
The poor woman screeched and clawed at the sheets surrounding her, the pungent smell of blood making her dry heave. Her nostrils flared as she took her final breaths, a road to freedom and the afterlife being bestowed to her.
Ella was too busy cutting out her stomach to notice the lack of life in the body below her. Glancing at the clock, she sighed before making quick work stepmother, poking two shards into her eye sockets as a finishing touch on her second deranged present to the prince.
Anastasia's fate was far worse than that of her mother's. She had woken up to the smell of blood and sweat, glancing to her side to find a deranged Ella in a maid's uniform.
Blood was spilt as a shard of glass was shoved into her throat, eliciting mangled gasps. Ana flitted like a dizzy moth as Ella took her time slicing at her digestive organs, forming two eye holes from her kidneys, turning her stomach to form a nose, and finally creating a smile out of her intestines.
Bloody palms (coated with blood from various people) skinned her fingers before carving her arms with a variety of phrases as proof of Ella's 'present.' Words like liar, thief and monster were engraved on the left arm while the right was covered in one phrase; you chose the wrong girl Kit.
She grinned at her masterpiece, but she wasn't done yet, Ana's face was still left untouched! It was easier to carve into her face without her squirming, having passed out or even died a mere ten minutes back.
Her ears were cut off-
"Now you won't hear me talk about my night with Jaq!"
Her tongue was cut out and lips were sewn shut with wires from the bed-
"You won't be able to tell any more lies after this."
And finally, her eyes were cut out and replaced with those of a teddy lying beside her-
"You should pass on with pure eyes rather than your evil ones!"
When she was finally done, the unsuspecting maid scurried out the royal chambers, the guards questioning the towels she was carrying and believing her claims of washing the sheets.
Ella smiled and skipped out the palace gates, guards rushing past her at the broken yet fierce scream the prince let out.
"Happy wedding day Kit! Hope you liked my gifts," she giggled out in glee.