The Huntsman was led in chains to the Queen by a duo of malformed dwarfs dressed in motley.
God knew where she found these monstrosities, but find them she did, and brought them back to her castle as servants. Slaves was closer to the mark, and she treated them with a sadistic cruelty that transcended mere distaste. Though the Huntsman could easily overpower them, he knew that it would be no use.
There was no escaping what he had done.
He was thrust into the throne room, and an involuntary gasp escaped his throat at the frigid air inside. Low flames burned in dozens of braziers around the hall, and at the end she sat. The Queen was regal on her cold throne, in a low cut gown of crow’s feathers. Black hair hung to her breasts and framed a face so pale it appeared blue. Her beauty was at once intoxicating and terrible. Something in her ice blue eyes inspired visions of predatory teeth and claws.
The dwarfs threw the Huntsman down before her.
“Begone, worms.” She said quietly, but in that whisper there was more hatred and malice than a thousand screaming barbarians on a battlefield. The dwarfs shrank away, their eyes raw with animal panic.
They were broken things.
The Queen turned her frightful eyes on the Huntsman, and despite his promises not to, he squirmed under the gaze. He knew what he had done when he refused to carry out her orders. He knew what would happen when he was brought before her a turncloak. What she did to those that displeased her.
He heard the stories of how she made a pact with some devil for power in exchange for the lives of her father, the king, and a sorcerer who had attempted to steal her first born. Tales to make the very telling of them turn bards white.
And yet no matter what horrors befell him, he took heart in knowing that the beautiful girl with the snow white skin that had stolen his heart would be safe from the Royal Bitch’s talons.
“You’ve returned to me.” The Queen said, her voice rich and sonorous. “Is the girl’s head hidden behind your back?” She made a show of trying to see around him. “Or is it possible she managed to outfox the great Huntsman?”
“She is beyond your grasp.” The Huntsman said, his voice somehow flinty despite the terror he felt.
She clucked her tongue. “I could not have been more clear in my instructions. You were to take her into the woods and make sure her body was never found. You did take her into the woods, and yet, once there, my agents say that you let her go. The prophecy foretold that she would usurp me. A sweet princess, fairest in the land, would rise up and cast down the evil Queen and usher in an age of peace and plenty for all.” The Queen pouted her lower lip. “Nobody likes the Queen in the stories.”
“You are insane.” The Huntsman spat, his voice choked with emotion. A look of amusement crossed the Queen’s face. “You will never touch her. You can do whatever you want with me, but I will die laughing knowing that she will return one day and -”
The flames in the braziers suddenly flared ten feet into the air, cutting the Huntsman’s words off, and the Queen’s mask of beauty slipped. She howled a mind shattering scream, that doubled and redoubled on itself, as if all the voices in Hell cried out in unison. Her face twisted into something savage and feral, and for a moment that vision of teeth and claws became reality. Behind her, a shadow danced on the wall, but it was not the Queen’s shadow. It was too large, too thin, with a rack of sharp antlers jutting from a snouted skull.
Just as suddenly, the flames guttered out, casting the room into complete darkness. When the Queen spoke again, she was no more than a few inches from the Huntsman's face, and had regained her quiet composure.
“Wrong on both counts, I’m afraid. Did you really think that letting her out into the woods would save her?” She laughed, as though she had never heard anything funnier in all the world. “Fool. I am the woods. My agents found her, as I knew they would. The girl was dead before I even brought you here."
The Huntsman's heart sank in despair.
"But why...? Why would you ask me to..." He could not finish the words.
"Why?" The Queen's disembodied voice tittered. "Because it amused me to watch your feeble little mind struggle with the decision. 'Should I do it? Should I not?'" She asked, in a mocking imitation of a dullard's voice. "You should have just killed the little bitch, for I assure you, her suffering was legendary. Far crueler than a simple axe through the brain. You condemned her to that. I hope that you keep that knowledge before you during what’s to come, for you are not going to die tonight, oh no, no. Nor will you for ages to come. I promise you will look back on the stories your priest told you about the torments of Hell with nostalgia. All the while, knowing that you have saved nothing.” A deep growl rumbled from somewhere in the pitch darkness, and the Queen laughed again. “I think it’s passed time we began.”
::
The dwarf called Glick awoke in his bed.
His brothers were still asleep, so he crept from their hut and into the forest to fetch water. The yellow morning sunlight shined through the trees in soft pillars of light, and butterflies danced among the flowers. He whistled a tune as he took the pail and headed down the trail towards the river. The early birds in the branches seemed to chirp in time with his song.
But their music was soon marred by the ugly croaks and quarks of crows.
A rank odor also filled the air, causing Glick to wrinkle his nose. He rounded the bend in the trail and came across the source of the disturbance. The ground and trees were alive with the squirming bodies of the foul black birds. They roiled over one another, desperately fighting over the obscured carrion. Every now and then, one would hop away with a strip of red flesh in its beak.
Glick paused. He had lived in the forest his whole life, and was no stranger to the way of the wild, and yet there was something maligned in the enthusiasm of these birds. He decided to return to the house and wait for them to disperse. He would keep this to himself, knowing that if the others were to learn that he was frightened off by a few crows, they would never let him forget it. His older brother, Flick, could be especially cruel when he was grumpy, and he was grumpy often.
As he turned to leave, Glick stepped on a twig, its sharp crack sounding like splitting stone. He winced, and suddenly the woods were silent. He looked up towards the crows and saw that they had stopped their feast. Each one now stared at him, with their dead, black eyes.
Their bounty was also revealed.
It was the body of a girl, recognizable only for the blood spattered blue and yellow dress she wore. Her face was nothing more than a raw, skeletal horror, with one eye was missing, and the other staring milky and sightless towards the sky. The scene was made somehow more grotesque by the red ribbon still tied around the remaining strands of black hair.
Glick was about to scream when a set of boney hands fell across his shoulders, and a syrupy voice whispered in his ear.
“Hush now, little one. What luck finding you all the way out here! I will take you and your brothers to the castle to see the Queen. She cannot wait to meet you.”
God knew where she found these monstrosities, but find them she did, and brought them back to her castle as servants. Slaves was closer to the mark, and she treated them with a sadistic cruelty that transcended mere distaste. Though the Huntsman could easily overpower them, he knew that it would be no use.
There was no escaping what he had done.
He was thrust into the throne room, and an involuntary gasp escaped his throat at the frigid air inside. Low flames burned in dozens of braziers around the hall, and at the end she sat. The Queen was regal on her cold throne, in a low cut gown of crow’s feathers. Black hair hung to her breasts and framed a face so pale it appeared blue. Her beauty was at once intoxicating and terrible. Something in her ice blue eyes inspired visions of predatory teeth and claws.
The dwarfs threw the Huntsman down before her.
“Begone, worms.” She said quietly, but in that whisper there was more hatred and malice than a thousand screaming barbarians on a battlefield. The dwarfs shrank away, their eyes raw with animal panic.
They were broken things.
The Queen turned her frightful eyes on the Huntsman, and despite his promises not to, he squirmed under the gaze. He knew what he had done when he refused to carry out her orders. He knew what would happen when he was brought before her a turncloak. What she did to those that displeased her.
He heard the stories of how she made a pact with some devil for power in exchange for the lives of her father, the king, and a sorcerer who had attempted to steal her first born. Tales to make the very telling of them turn bards white.
And yet no matter what horrors befell him, he took heart in knowing that the beautiful girl with the snow white skin that had stolen his heart would be safe from the Royal Bitch’s talons.
“You’ve returned to me.” The Queen said, her voice rich and sonorous. “Is the girl’s head hidden behind your back?” She made a show of trying to see around him. “Or is it possible she managed to outfox the great Huntsman?”
“She is beyond your grasp.” The Huntsman said, his voice somehow flinty despite the terror he felt.
She clucked her tongue. “I could not have been more clear in my instructions. You were to take her into the woods and make sure her body was never found. You did take her into the woods, and yet, once there, my agents say that you let her go. The prophecy foretold that she would usurp me. A sweet princess, fairest in the land, would rise up and cast down the evil Queen and usher in an age of peace and plenty for all.” The Queen pouted her lower lip. “Nobody likes the Queen in the stories.”
“You are insane.” The Huntsman spat, his voice choked with emotion. A look of amusement crossed the Queen’s face. “You will never touch her. You can do whatever you want with me, but I will die laughing knowing that she will return one day and -”
The flames in the braziers suddenly flared ten feet into the air, cutting the Huntsman’s words off, and the Queen’s mask of beauty slipped. She howled a mind shattering scream, that doubled and redoubled on itself, as if all the voices in Hell cried out in unison. Her face twisted into something savage and feral, and for a moment that vision of teeth and claws became reality. Behind her, a shadow danced on the wall, but it was not the Queen’s shadow. It was too large, too thin, with a rack of sharp antlers jutting from a snouted skull.
Just as suddenly, the flames guttered out, casting the room into complete darkness. When the Queen spoke again, she was no more than a few inches from the Huntsman's face, and had regained her quiet composure.
“Wrong on both counts, I’m afraid. Did you really think that letting her out into the woods would save her?” She laughed, as though she had never heard anything funnier in all the world. “Fool. I am the woods. My agents found her, as I knew they would. The girl was dead before I even brought you here."
The Huntsman's heart sank in despair.
"But why...? Why would you ask me to..." He could not finish the words.
"Why?" The Queen's disembodied voice tittered. "Because it amused me to watch your feeble little mind struggle with the decision. 'Should I do it? Should I not?'" She asked, in a mocking imitation of a dullard's voice. "You should have just killed the little bitch, for I assure you, her suffering was legendary. Far crueler than a simple axe through the brain. You condemned her to that. I hope that you keep that knowledge before you during what’s to come, for you are not going to die tonight, oh no, no. Nor will you for ages to come. I promise you will look back on the stories your priest told you about the torments of Hell with nostalgia. All the while, knowing that you have saved nothing.” A deep growl rumbled from somewhere in the pitch darkness, and the Queen laughed again. “I think it’s passed time we began.”
::
The dwarf called Glick awoke in his bed.
His brothers were still asleep, so he crept from their hut and into the forest to fetch water. The yellow morning sunlight shined through the trees in soft pillars of light, and butterflies danced among the flowers. He whistled a tune as he took the pail and headed down the trail towards the river. The early birds in the branches seemed to chirp in time with his song.
But their music was soon marred by the ugly croaks and quarks of crows.
A rank odor also filled the air, causing Glick to wrinkle his nose. He rounded the bend in the trail and came across the source of the disturbance. The ground and trees were alive with the squirming bodies of the foul black birds. They roiled over one another, desperately fighting over the obscured carrion. Every now and then, one would hop away with a strip of red flesh in its beak.
Glick paused. He had lived in the forest his whole life, and was no stranger to the way of the wild, and yet there was something maligned in the enthusiasm of these birds. He decided to return to the house and wait for them to disperse. He would keep this to himself, knowing that if the others were to learn that he was frightened off by a few crows, they would never let him forget it. His older brother, Flick, could be especially cruel when he was grumpy, and he was grumpy often.
As he turned to leave, Glick stepped on a twig, its sharp crack sounding like splitting stone. He winced, and suddenly the woods were silent. He looked up towards the crows and saw that they had stopped their feast. Each one now stared at him, with their dead, black eyes.
Their bounty was also revealed.
It was the body of a girl, recognizable only for the blood spattered blue and yellow dress she wore. Her face was nothing more than a raw, skeletal horror, with one eye was missing, and the other staring milky and sightless towards the sky. The scene was made somehow more grotesque by the red ribbon still tied around the remaining strands of black hair.
Glick was about to scream when a set of boney hands fell across his shoulders, and a syrupy voice whispered in his ear.
“Hush now, little one. What luck finding you all the way out here! I will take you and your brothers to the castle to see the Queen. She cannot wait to meet you.”