The dust pooled around the edge of the hearth, its ghostly shape dancing to the flickering fire as Cinder sat and gazed into the flames. Her father had married again, this time a woman of great beauty and wealth. Her stepmother’s daughters, though not much to speak of, still had their charms. One was too skinny, while the other was far too wide and tall. At least her competition was manageable. The wide one didn’t worry her; the gala was barely one week away. All the corsets in the kingdom couldn’t help that one. A real shame too, she actually had something of looks. Drusilla was raven haired with wide, clear eyes. Her lips were a tad too thin, but her fair skin and long flowing hair would win any man’s heart had she have stopped shoving Cinder’s cake in her mouth. Of course, she made sure to put extra butter in them each time─ couldn’t count on the cake alone to do the job. Then there was Anastasia, her wit could charm the barn animals, nothing more. From the back, she looked a thing of beauty, but when she turned around─ well, that was the end for most gentlemen. Her features separated were beautiful, yet placing them together all at once was a convoluted mess. Her lips, though full, were misshapen with a small twist near the top; giving her a permanent sneer. Ana’s hair was a vibrant red, and her skin was fair and clear─ but her eyes, though a lovely shade of green, were too small and inset. Her nose was a perfect button, yet her chin was slightly elongated and didn’t seem to mesh well with her delicate features.
That was not what worried her. Her beauty far surpassed their own, even the stepmother who was lovely with her fair hair and skin couldn’t match hers. She had suitors lined up far and wide before the death of her mother. Her mother, like her father, had been fair and graceful with hair of spun gold and eyes that were as blue as the sky on a clear day. She was as kind as she was beautiful and stayed by Cinder’s side always. So quite naturally, the woman had to die. Her father had spent far too much time doting on the woman; it was enough to make her sick. One morning, she finally found her chance. Her father had been summoned to another kingdom, and on the morning of his leave, she smiled and waved next to the woman as he turned to leave. She waited until the night and crept into her mother’s chambers. The woman had finished her prayers, her back to the door. Cinder had plucked a knife from the kitchen, one she had spent most of the day sharpening on a bit of Father’s leather. The woman smiled at her, even as the girl plunged the knife to the hilt in the tiny woman’s chest─ Six times. It infuriated her; the wretched grace had followed her mother even in death. She rushed down to the basement, dragging the body the length of the stairs. She was sure that each step found the back of the corpse’s skull, a girl should never assume that death came swiftly. A static crackle reverberated from the enclosed space and from the shadows slinked a spindly creature. Its hair fell in tatters around a dust caked cloak and it reached, pleading in its voiceless expression. A gasp of air escaped its cracked and bleeding mouth, revealing a row of shiny, metal razors fused within its deep, purple gums. She had waited for this pact for so long and now that it was upon her, all she could do was stare at the purest of evil before her in wonder. It was all she could do to find her voice, but finally her words rang from within her chest proud and strong:
“A king, for this queen,” she said with delight,
“On a spring evening of Walpurgis night, on the eve of my 18th birthday I wish to have the gift of a kingdom, in which I can rule with absolute freedom. Let Walpurgis Night reign forever free, for Odin himself shall not bring his fire, and a drench of 100 years shall follow, should I offer thee every wife and child?”
Death watched her then, its interest peaked, it stared down at the shackles that restrained it from the world and it hungered once again to feast upon the souls of men. It shook its head in greed and reached for her mother, whining like a suckling babe in search of its mother’s bosom. She knew that the beast needed the fresh soul to devour and she watched as its maw unhinged and consumed the woman. She smiled as the last bit of pristine toe disappeared into the creature’s belly. It turned to her, its jaw popping and snapping back into place. She was giddy and full of glow, before slashing her wrists. She watched as the blood flowed, and dipped down to the hem of its obsidian robe. It stopped and sniffed the air, like a rabid dog, it flung itself to the floor, lapping at the blood that trickled through the trenches. Death stood finally, flexing its wrists and feet. The chains melted from its neck, arms, and feet and it glided in front of her. With a flick of its hand, the bleeding stopped and its voices sounded, dry as the wheels from a carriage on a stone path,
“Three years, three you have and not a second more til Walpurgisnacht,
I require a father, mother, and two children within your abode,
Should you satisfy your bargain in that amount of time, an accord then, shall be made.”
She agreed and the foul demon dissipated eager to be back to its work of men. Bargaining with devils came at a price. After such rumors spread that Cinder’s mother had been taken by the fairies, no one came knocking. Cinder giggled like a schoolgirl, knowing the truth behind their fairy tales. Let them talk; she had no interest in a tailor, miller, or farmer’s sons. She needed a king to rule behind and control. She was soon upon her eighteenth birthday, and running out of time. When the announcement came, to all the land, she was all but glowing at the messenger.
She stared across at the girl’s preening their hair, gossiping about the newest king in power. He was barely seventeen. Perfect. She had put up with these little girls for one reason only, if nothing else, the family had connections. Strong connections, they were going to be escorted to the ball by the royal family themselves. And so the time came, and she offered to help. “Come, Drusilla, Ana,” she cooed, extending her arms and warming them with her smile. “Let me dress you, find our finest pearls and a kiss with best wishes in your endeavors to woo the fair prince.” The simple girls nodded and followed her to the dressing room with a bounce in their step. Cinder took great pains to make them appear as lovely as possible. On Drusilla, she tied a green ribbon of velvet laced with a poison. By the stroke of midnight, she would fall stone dead. It was all she could do to hold in her laughter. For Anastasia a far nastier device; a golden comb that ran throughout her raven curls. Such a beautiful death indeed, oh how she pined to be near, as its gears released the four, long spikes that were compressed within the teeth.
She feigned disappointment, looking at the time, and sent them on their way, claiming that she would draw a second carriage to the grand event after getting into her own dress. She curled her lips upward and closed the door behind them. Then, she glanced about; sure that she was alone, she unlocked the door to the basement and glided down the stairs. She really needed to do something about the stench, it was sure to rise up soon. In her haste, Cinder had made quick deaths of her father and stepmother. She had told them there were anniversary presents lying in wait. Instead, the surprise was her foot and their backsides. When the girls had asked, she explained that she had arranged a weekend trip to their favorite countryside inn.
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Reaching the bottom, Cinder called once more on the Deathly devil, and it appeared before her, its true form magnificent in the diminished light. “Nearly three years ago, I came to thee, and I have made good in my promise.” The creature nodded, its smile reaching the length of its head. With a flick and a swish, it transformed her gown into waves of shimmering silk and velvet. Her hair fell in loose waves to the mid of her back, and the dress formed to her perfect shape, accentuating each curve. Her feet, which were dainty as they were narrow, were adorned in shoes spun of crystal. On either side were delicate silver bows and a centered blood gem. It reached into its folds of fabric and withdrew a bauble filled with a liquid the color of blood. “Place this in the king’s cup, and he shall forever be at thy beck and call. Should he not drink the concoction in its entirety, you shall return and become my queen.” Cinder hesitated, but agreed. She looked at her reflection and smiled. The devil had made good on the pact, and she looked every bit a queen.
* * *
The gala, as boring as any, was a mixture of excited chatter and dancing. The music droned on and she was anxious in her wait, pacing on the floor as the night nearly reached ten. Where had the king gone? Surely he had not forgotten his beauty on the balcony. She crossed her arms and tapped her foot. She turned and walked back to the crowd inside. She paused just outside the door, surprised to find the prince mingling in the crowd, a new girl hooked on his arm. Her fury bubbled over as she fixed her gaze on the dark-haired girl. She was no more than fourteen, but her face was innocent and lovely. She embodied the likeness of an angel; even her movements were putridly childlike. She strode across the room, a smile in place, and extended her hand toward the young beauty.
“Child, dear girl of grand beauty, to whom do I have the pleasure of meeting?” The king smiled and patted the girl’s hand, “This, my dear, is my youngest sister Charlotte. I was just speaking of you to her, forgive my absence.” She relaxed as the girl placed her hand into Cinder’s. All was still, in favor of her. They chatted throughout the night before parting from Charlotte’s company and retiring to the balcony. The king left and returned with a glass of wine. She pointed to something out in the gardens, making up a fib about spotting someone. As he turned, she made haste in pulling the vial of potion from within her cloak and poured it into his glass. He turned back and shrugged. She made a joke about seeing shadows, as he tipped the glass to his mouth and drank. He prattled on about her lovely eyes, hair, and kindness. She smiled as he swallowed the last drop. At once, his eyes lit up and he took Cinder’s hands into his own. He begged for her hand in marriage, and she agreed.
The music ended abruptly, as one by one the people came to inspect what she was sure her stepsister’s deaths. She brought her own glass to her lips and drank deeply from the cup. Screams filled the night’s air as the stroke of midnight sounded. She smiled as the cacophony of terror-filled yells unfolded behind her. Bong─
The devil appeared before her, its presence ever grinning under the fan of darkness. Cinder started, unsure of why it appeared. “And now I’ve come to collect my payment, of what I am sure will be all in order.”
She stared at the creature, its body hovering in the black cloud surrounding the floor and licking at her heels. “What payment do you speak of?” she asked.
It was quiet at the next bong before answering, “the payment of my wife.”
Bong, bong─
She stood fast, her fists at her sides as she tossed the smitten king to the side. He mewed and clawed at her legs as if in pain of losing her touch. “I have done all that you said, the husband, wife, and children, and the king has drunk the wine. I have done it all and more, so now I ask, what foul manner of trickery is this?”
“See for yourself,” it purred. Bong, Bong─
Its arm extended the length, closing the gap between them and caressing her hair. She pulled from it and stepped hesitantly toward the crowd. To her dismay, Ana stood holding her comb as blood fell from her head.
Bong─
Cinder fled to the crowd, she grabbed a knife from the server table and slipped behind Anastasia. Bong─ she heard the king roar in pain behind her, clutching at his sides.
She spun around just as a man grabbed Ana and pulled her away toward the front; more than likely taking her to a doctor. Her time passed, the moment lost to her in mere seconds. Her arm fell limply to the side and the knife fell from her grasp. Bong─
She ran blindly through the crowd, her dress tearing at the seams as she fought to make it to the carriage and out of sight. One shoe shattered, and the other fell from her foot as she tore down the staircase. She paused at the foot of the stairs looking back. Two men carried a bundle with them. One tripped on her lost shoe and they lost their footing, plunging to the ground below. Anastasia tumbled out at her feet dead, her eyes unmoving as they stared at the night’s sky. She turned and climbed into the carriage, pulling the door closed. She breathed a sigh of relief as it pulled away from the castle. Death appeared beside her, its grin as wide as ever. Bong.
The carriage hastened across the bridge. Her clothes changed back and she grinned at the being, her chest puffing out. The steeds pressed on, their breath steady with their stride. They sat for a time, before she spoke. “So, a pact then?” she asked the floating mass. It nodded, flicking its wrist. Bong─ She was back in the house, sitting by the hearth, watching as the dust danced and flickered. She stretched and turned to leave the kitchen. A petite, fiery beauty graced the kitchen smiling at Cinder from the doorway. She gawked at the girl, realizing instantly that the girl in front of her was Anastasia.
“When you are finished here, change out my chamber pot,” the girl’s lovely face scrunched up into a sneer, “Mother will see to it that you will be put to work in the morning.” She turned and walked away adding, “And don’t even think about making a dress for the gala.”
Confused and infuriated, Cinder raced to the basement and called out to the creature. When it appeared she yelled, “Why is my stepsister alive, and not only so, but lovelier than before?” The demon was quiet before the many whispers of death cackled, “My dear child, I shall and will honor the pact.” She looked around, pointing at her home and her ragged clothes. “Then why do I not have people waiting on me hand and foot, why am I not in charge of the land that you so promised and why am I not a queen?” Death answered, “You will become queen in time.” She placed her hands on her hips and huffed like a spoiled child, grinding her jaw. “This isn’t fair, how shall I ever get to the castle as a simple peasant?” Laughter filled the space as the creature dissolved into the walls, “Did you honestly believe that I shall be made to play fair?”
From above her room a soft voice called down, “Cinderella, my chamber pot, if you please.”