That Risen Snow: A Scary Tale of Snow White and Zombies (Wattys 2014 Award Winner)

Chapter Two

Grouchy

SNOW LUNGES AT GROUCHY, her face contorted into a mask of manic rage. She—his Snowflake—slams into his chest, knocking him to the grass and slapping the wind out of his lungs. She hisses. Her breath stinks of blood and rotten spices. He forces her back with a forearm wedged under her chin, even though he’s yearned for those lips to touch his skin.

From behind, Blushful and Snoozy grab Snow’s shoulders, and Grouchy scurries from beneath her. Merry plops onto Snow’s back and her hands claw thick clumps of dirt and grass out of the ground. What the hells?

“Careful,” Grouchy says. “That hag’s curse runs deeper than we thought.”

Coughy kneels next to Snow. “She’s gone rabid.” He inspects his hands with wide eyes. “I hope it’s not contagious.”

Bones and the Prince twitch, then their heads snap upward. Their eyes smolder crimson red like Snow’s.

Well, shit. Grouchy sprints to the bed’s lid—a domed iron frame with clear panes. Dim’s a step ahead of him. Together, the two dwarfs lift the lid, their stout legs trembling. They charge at Bones and the Prince, slam into them with the lid, and pin them to the ground. Bones and the Prince throw themselves against the inside of the lid, now smeared with blood. Batshit. Completely batshit.

The dwarfs built Snow’s bed with wheels so that they could bring her outside each morning onto the hilltop. Otherwise, the woodland animals—foxes, bunnies, and squirrels—would gather outside their cottage in vast numbers. Before the bed, it had taken the dwarfs a whole morning to clean the shit off of the lawn and an afternoon to scrape the birdshit off of the roof. The dwarfs later crafted the iron lid for the bed to prevent the animals from snuggling with Snow. Or worse. His Snowflake always did have a way with animals.

With his free hand, Dim pats his mouth twice, makes a claw sign, and wiggles his fingers over his arm.

“Blush, you see that?” Grouchy says.

“He said that whatever’s wrong with them comes from getting bit.”

Coughy scoots away from Snow and groans.

“Coughy,” Grouchy says. “Rope."

“From the mine?”

“The Prince’s horse.”

Moaning, Coughy runs down the hill.

The Prince and Bones flail repeatedly against the lid, so that the glass panes seem to simmer. Already, Grouchy’s muscles ache.

“Balls,” he says. “We can’t keep this up.”

“If we put Snow under the lid,” Blushful says, “they’ll all be in one place.”

“That’s not bad, Blush.”       

When Coughy returns with the rope, Merry binds Snow’s hands behind her back and secures rope between her teeth and around her head. Grouchy’s stomach boils seeing anyone touch his Snowflake, especially Merry.

Grouchy and Dim lift the lid slightly, then slam it down onto Bones’ and the Prince’s heads. While the rabid fiends are stunned, they lift the lid enough that Blushful and Snoozy can roll Snow underneath.

With all three batshits safely beneath the lid, the six dwarfs sit on the thick glass.

“This is a temporary solution at best,” Coughy says. Whiner.

Merry pats the lid and smiles. “I think we came up with a wonderful solution given our limited time and resources.”

Grouchy clenches his teeth. “Shut up. Just shut. The hells. Up.”