Chapter 1: Cinderella, Cinderella…..
Disclaimer: Unfortunately, I don't own Cinderella or any other Disney characters….*sad face*. Anyway, they are all works other people. I just took them and made them very twisted in my sick, sick, sick mind. I'm very crazy as you can see…moving on, please read and enjoy. It has lots of violence. I hope I don't scare you that much…review please. I'm also a new writer, so put constructive criticism. Thanks!
I quiet my breathing as I hear the familiar jiggle of the doorknob. He strolls into his room, scrolls in one arm. Placing the scrolls onto his mahogany desk, he reaches upwards, pulls the crown off of his head, and tosses it onto the bed. Hearing the plunk of the crown landing onto the bed and footsteps back to his desk I know that its time. I slip behind him with my dagger in hand and place it on his neck. Leaning forward towards his ear I whisper, "Miss me?"
"N-not particularly. Can we talk about this?" he stutters nervously. I slowly step around to face him keeping the dagger placed against his neck, I say softly, "Are you well prepared for this, pet?"
I grin as his eyes widen in recognition and he responds meekly "Yes, I am well prepared." As those words hit my ears and my face darkens in memories and rage. He grins from ear to ear as he watches my face. He still gets to me even when he's facing death, no matter everything will work in the end. Brutally, I stab him in the neck. I feel the warm blood gush onto my hand as I yank out the dagger. While I wipe the blood off of my dagger I chuckle to myself and muse, my poor husband dead.
Quickly I change into my well known sparkly blue dress, becoming everyone's little town girl, Cinderella. Jiggle. Jiggle. Some imbecile is unlocking the door. I hurriedly toss my black dress into a hidden trapdoor adjacent to the mahogany desk. The door burst open, and in comes Michael, my pathetic son. I should've known…ugh. Time to do what I do best. Act.
"Michael, your father is dead. I don't know what to do," I sob loudly.
"You can stop the act, Mother," he says candidly. I start to sniffle, "What do you mean?"
He smirks and responds "I know you killed him….Ashes"
"Alright, you caught me. I see you've been doing your research." I step closer to him. Fear flashes in his eyes and I know I have him. His confidence withers down to nothing. Michael scurries backward into a wall. I corner him and pluck my dagger out of its sheath and press it against his neck. I take the point and apply pressure. Leaning forward I whisper in his ear "Would you like me to kill you now or later?"
Michael's eyes widen. "You would kill your own blood?" he asks incredulously. I remover the dagger and back away spinning in circles and dancing. "Isn't that how it goes? Someone sees the villain commit a bad deed and the villain kills the witness. I'm the villain, aren't I?" I spout out in a crazed fever.
He doesn't answer so I take that as my cue to continue. "Get in my way and I'll kill you. Understand?"