Tales From Another Drunken Mind

Fractured

Fractured

Victim Number 42:

A creepy lady with jet black hair, skin as white as snow, and lips as red as blood running through your veins stalked me through the ally I took home from school. I didn't think much of it at the time, until she appeared by my bedside at midnight, holding a dagger dripping with blood in her grotesque hands. She positioned the knife over my thundering heart. "We've been looking forward to this for a very long time," she crackles before the knife silences my heart.

Snow White:

I woke with a start, staring at the blood crusted dagger in my hand. A metallic scent hung heavily in the morning mist. I blinked slowly as I took in the dew on the pale grass, the shredded dress that hung limply from my shoulders, and the cobalt blue sky, scattered with puffs of morning smoke. Dizziness swept through my shaken soul, coursing through my veins as I made my way to the small cottage that was home to 7 dwarves and me.

What had happened last night, I thought to myself.

Upon arriving at my sanctuary, I found myself falling to my knees. Memories of my husband, the prince, came back to me. Just small tidbits came back, like how I found him dead in his bed, or how I wasn't able to remember anything about that night, how I woke up with his blood on my fingers.

The Queen:

"There has been another killing, my lady." I looked my advisor in the eye, trying to understand the frantic look in his eyes. "Just like the others, 3 stabs in the chest, in a triangular pattern, no other clues left behind," he reported, answering my unasked question.

"Ben, what does that make it, the total?" I inquired.

"42, my honor," was Ben's grim reply. The severity of his response left no hope in my desolate heart. This was the feeling that fueled my next proclamation.

"Snow White must be stopped! This terror cannot continue in our kingdom."

"We have two options, do it yourself, or bring in the huntsmen."

The Huntsman, Timothy

I have a goal, a mission of sorts; you could even call it an order. I have solemnly sworn to the queen that I will capture Snow White, or die trying. My objective is an odd one, but it is not my place to question. I must bring Snow White in alive.

My ears are open for even the most far-fetched rumor. My eyes are peeled for the faintest clue. Even the most insignificant thing may be the final piece in her capture. The smallest things make the difference between victory and defeat.

And victory I shall have, Snow White, I thought, victory shall be mine. I will have you; you will be mine, for I shall not back down.

Snow White:

Laughter filled the room, ricocheting off the walls, and playful caressing my ears. Music danced around me, its haunting melody hovering in the unmoving air. Tea was always a lively time for the dwarfs and me. The funniest tales were exchanged; the most joy was dug from our emotional wells. This was what I lived for; the time I could completely forget about the odd and disturbing mysteries that never resolved themselves. Instead, I found they only became more complex as the years passed.

The Huntsman, Timothy:

After a mere hour, I had discovered the location the infamous Snow White's humble abode. The ivy covered cottage was positioned so it blended in with the vast forest beyond. With a quick glance, it could easily have been overlooked.