It was not your typical fairy tale.
There were no princesses, there were no princes, no fancy balls, no magic, no true love.
And there was no happily ever after.
I made sure of that.
Allow me to tell you the tale.
There was a detective. I would add a bunch of flattering adjectives before detective, but nobody liked him, so I won't.
He was smart, and everyone around him was stupid, so no one really cared that he was smart.
And then that army doctor showed up.
He moved in with the detective, and then they went on all sorts of crazy adventures involving dead people and poison and other odd stuffs all the time. They were happy doing it too.
It had to end eventually.
Cause every fairy tale needs a good, old-fashioned villain.
Me.
I was just doing my own thing, killing other people, crime, that sort of stuff. No big deal.
And then that detective became utterly obsessed with me.
He wanted to find me, and I could tell it wasn't for an autograph.
So I decided to give him a little trouble.
And, honey, he didn't like that at all.
I threatened his pet, and a few other things.
He looks so scary when all riled up.
But it all went well in the end.
For me, anyways.
I may have died, but don't bother with those details, this isn't my story.
I'm not the hero.
Obviously.
Well, he died.
For his army doctor, for his housekeeper, for his detective inspector.
A short walk off a tall building did the trick.
And they all went tumbling down.
The army doctor, he cried. Same with the housekeeper, and the detective inspector, and the brother, and all of them.
Oh, but the story's not over yet, love.
He's alive.
I am too.
The story has just begun, dear.
You better prepare.
It's going to be a bumpy ride.
The End, or rather, The Beginning.