|
Sleeping
Beauty:
Charming's
Tale |
Prince
Charming
looked up at
the
enchanted
castle,
scrutinizing
it, and then
checked his
hair in the
mirrored
shine of his
blade.
Who’s the
prince,
baby? Yeah.
He winked at
his
reflection.
Sleeping
Beauty stood
no chance
against one
of his looks
and bravery.
And brains.
After all,
he’d been
the first
prince to
hire
mercenaries
to take out
the fierce
dragon that
roamed the
woods. It
had taken
over a
hundred men
to subdue
and destroy
the
creature.
Luckily for
him (and his
pockets),
only two
came back
alive, so
he’d only
had to pay
two fees.
And now
Sleeping
Beauty was
wide open
for
business. So
to speak.
All that
separated
him from the
enchanted
palace atop
the hill was
a massive
vine wall,
and after he
fixed his
hair, he
sheathed his
sword and
set about to
climbing the
vines.
The thorns
were thick
and
scratched at
him. Worse
than that,
the leaves
were covered
with a slimy
gunk that
got under
his nails.
Once he’d
scaled to
the top of
the castle
wall (no
easy trick),
he took a
look around
the
courtyard,
gazing at
the bodies
still fallen
in place.
And then he
sat down and
gave himself
a manicure.
His princess
might not
appreciate a
bit of green
gunk
underneath
his princely
nailbeds.
Lord knew he
didn’t.
Once his
hands were
presentable
again,
Charming
yawned and
scratched
his belly,
and then
drew his
sword. He
didn’t need
it, of
course – all
the people
in the
courtyard
lay skewed
about and
unmoving,
victims of
the fairy
curse.
Leaves lay
scattered
over a few
of them, and
a few of the
women had
hair
plastered in
their faces.
Most of
their
garments
were
terribly out
of fashion.
His first
job as
prince of
Beauty’s
kingdom
would
obviously be
to bring
style back
to the
people.
Charming
suppressed a
small
shudder as
he stepped
past a man
with
tri-colored
hose.
Tri-color
was sooo
1450s.
The interior
of the keep
was
peacefully
quiet, and
here upon a
raised,
dusty dais,
lay Beauty.
Long, silky
blonde hair
spilled over
the bier and
onto the
steps. Her
pretty peach
silk gown
had twisted
in her sleep
and had
hiked up
around her
hips,
revealing
smooth,
perfect
legs.
Charming
smiled,
strode
forward, and
adjusted
himself.
She’d do
quite
nicely.
But when he
moved over
to her side,
Charming
held his
nose,
daunted. Of
course the
wench had
been
sleeping for
a hundred
years, but
her breath
was
atrocious.
It stank of
rotten, dead
things.
Luckily for
him, all
good
handsome
princes
carried
breath
mints.
Charming
took one out
of his
pocket and
dropped it
between her
pale lips.
When her
mouth didn’t
move, he put
aside his
sword and
used his
hands to
force her to
masticate
the small
candy.
It helped
things a
little.
The most
dire issue
taken care
of, Charming
decided to
examine the
goods. A
quick peek
up her skirt
revealed
many
pleasing
things, and
her breasts
were nicely
full. Her
face seemed
pleasant
enough –
big, pouty
lips perfect
for sucking
on the
princely
equipage,
ruined only
bit bits of
moss growing
at the
corners of
her mouth.
He frowned
and tried to
wipe them
away, and
winced when
a large
scratch
bloomed on
her cheek.
Whoops.
Charming
licked the
pad of his
thumb and
tried to
wipe it
away. No
luck. Ah
well.
Adjusting
himself
again to
plump the
goods,
Charming
leaned over
the princess
and lightly
brushed his
mouth
against
hers.
She moaned
slightly,
but her eyes
remained
closed.
“Yeah, you
like it,
don’t you?”
Charming was
rather
pleased with
himself at
her
reaction.
Not only did
she bring
the entire
kingdom with
her, but she
seemed to be
hungry for
what he
could give
her. “Hungry
for a
mouthful of
Charming?
Slut.”
He leaned in
again,
pressing a
more
insistent
kiss on her
lightly
slack
mouth...and
to his
surprise, it
moved
against his.
It was
almost
like...she’d
tried to
bite him.
Surprised,
Charming
jerked back,
running a
hand along
her leg.
Beauty
twitched,
and her eyes
flew open.
They were
bright red.
A bug
skittered
out from
under one of
her eyelids.
“Augh!”
Charming
fell
backward,
horrified.
He’d put his
mouth on
that filthy
creature?
With a lace
hanky, he
scrubbed at
his lips.
Hygiene
would
definitely
be first on
the
princess’s
To-Do list
now that she
was awake.
She moaned
again, her
jaw flexing.
A whisper
eased out of
her throat.
“Braaains...”
Her body
jerked on
the dais,
and she sat
up.
Charming
took a step
backward,
nearly
tripping
over the
limp body of
one of the
courtiers
near his
feet. He
kicked it
aside, and
turned his
attention
back to his
bride-to-be.
Something
was...wrong
with the
princess.
Her head
tilted at an
odd angle,
and she
extended her
arms
outward, as
if reaching
for him. “Braiins,”
she hissed
again.
Funny, he
didn’t seem
to recall
this part of
the legend.
A hand
clasped on
his ankle,
and Charming
jerked,
startled.
The courtier
at his feet
had awoken
and was
trying to
drag itself
across the
floor.
Toward him.
“Braains,”
it said. “Braaains.”
“Braains,”
said another
behind him.
And then
another.
The princess
stood from
the dais and
began to
shuffle
toward him.
Charming
grabbed his
sword again
and affected
a manly
stance that
showed off
his
shoulders.
“Begone,
wretches!”
His heart
sank a
little as
they
continued to
shuffle
slowly
toward him.
The legend
had been
wrong. Well,
sort of. The
story had
told that
whoever
kissed the
sleeping
beauty on
the mouth
would awaken
her from her
hundred-year
sleep.
And she was
definitely
awake. Along
with the
rest of the
castle.
And they
were hungry. |
|