Leigh Covington is hosting the “WHAT IF?”" Fairy Tale Madness Blogfest. Put a twist on a well-known fairytale, post the result, link to her site, and see if you win a prize.
Here’s my entry for the best comic relief category, Red and Cinderella:
Red lay on the stony ground, her own sweat, blood, and vomit reeking in her nostrils. She plucked out an arrow that had penetrated her leather, gashing her stomach. “Funny, our going out this way.”
To her left, a couple bloody streaks showed on Cinderella’s bare midriff. The sassy gal could barely lift her head. “Y’know, if we had met under different circumstances, I still don’t think we would’ve liked each other.”
They couldn’t afford to chuckle with abdominal wounds.
Before them, Hansel strutted. “Odd final words, witches.”
Red spit defiance. “For crying out loud!”
Beside him, Gretel undid her ceremonial scarf. “You still insist you killed a wolf all by yourself?”
“And first, it came on to you, and your grandmother?”
“She does aerobics, you half-wit!”
Hansel pulled his loose scarf taut with both hands, the punching sound it made meant to intimidate. “And you, you claim you snuck into a ball in a pumpkin? With mice?”
Cinderella put grit in her voice. “What’s it to ya?”
Gretel looked at her brother. “Dibs.”
Red tried to struggle as the girl lowered herself, her head blocking the sun, but the knobby knees held Red’s elbows in place. She felt the deadly silk looping around her neck, the cruel stones bruising her back as she flinched.
Cinderella moved her shoulder, not quite able to raise her arm. “Look behind you.”
Hansel’s smirk came through in his voice. “My, I’m disappointed at that one. Urk!”
The scarf loosened. Red gulped air. She saw Gretel looking back over her right shoulder. Wrong one, ditz.
Past the left shoulder, a woman with wings, eyes glowing a wrathful purple, stood. Red remembered Cinderella claimed her godmother was from Faerie.
Red spit upward, into Gretel’s face. “Hey, first time turning into a pumpkin?”