Page 16 of How To Survive This Fairytale
Barely above a whisper, you ask, “When did you kill him?”
Her eyes widen.“What?”
“When,” you repeat, “did you kill him?”
The tears dry in her eyes.Her posture straightens.The facade of fragility, abandoned.Where once grief softened her features, resolve now turns her dagger-sharp, and her polished nails plunge through your chest and grasp your heart like a ripe peach faster than you thought possible.
THAT CAN’T BE THE WAY THIS STORY ENDS.
Try Again?
“I am afraid I am about you disappoint you,” says the Fair Queen.“Hurtyou, even.Our dear huntsman…”
Her lower lip wobbles.Dewdrop tears glisten in her eyes.She does not look at you.Instead, she looks into the mirror, into the eyes of her own reflection.
Biting the inside of your cheek, you rip your gaze from her to stare into the fire, at the snapping of its orange tongues.You knew before you walked in here today that he was dead.Hearing it shouldn’t shock you, shouldn’t devastate you—hewasn’tlike a father—but hedidcare about you.He cared about you, and he’s never coming home.
He cared about you, and he’d tried to warn you, hadn’t he?I didn’t know she was a witch until it was too late, he said.You see it now.You’ve always seen it; you just didn’t know what you were looking at.Now, looking at the Fair Queen, you see the old hag in the woods, and Gretel on her back, Gretel wrestling her, Gretel still astride her, falling into the oven’s open mouth?—
Mind blanking with rage, you draw your hunting knife and lunge.
But her magic freezes you.Elbow bent, blade poised, youfreeze, caught in the snare of some primal, ugly spell that burns through your muscles—burns up your neck, into your skull, where some arcane force boils your brain until you’re no longer a threat.You’ll never be a threat again.
THAT CAN’T BE THE WAY THIS STORY ENDS.
Try Again?
“I am afraid I am about you disappoint you,” says the Fair Queen.“Hurtyou, even.Our dear huntsman…”
Her lower lip wobbles.Dewdrop tears glisten in her eyes.She does not look at you.Instead, she looks into the mirror, into the eyes of her own reflection.
I didn’t know she was a witch until it was too late, he said.If you ever meet a witch, Hansel, the best thing you can do is run away.
“Your Majesty,” you say softly, “I beg you, please allow me to go home.”
“Hans, sweet Hans,” she says, “how can I release you now?Now, when the most important member of my court has perished?You must replace him.”
“Please,” you choke.“Please, Your Majesty, I have not seen my family?—”
“You would leave me?”Her tears turn her eyes to stained glass.“You wouldabandon me?After all the care I have shown you, you would show menonein return?”
Remember: sometimes, you have to make the obvious choice.
And right now, it seems like there is only one choice:
Run.
You scramble for the oaken doors, but no matter how you pull, they do not budge.Everything in your body screamsrun, but there’s nowhere to run.
“Youhavedisappointed me,” whispers the Fair Queen.A moment later: sharp nails plunge into your kidney.
The huntsman taught you enough to know you won’t survive that strike.
THAT CAN’T BE THE WAY THIS STORY ENDS.
Try Again?
“I am afraid I am about you disappoint you,” says the Fair Queen.“Hurtyou, even.Our dear huntsman…”