The Enchantress

 This is a twisted version of the famous fairytale, Sleeping Beauty. This story fractures the original version of the story, not the Disney adaptation. 

The forest had inky-black branches that tangled around each other in the misty fog. It was known as the ‘Cursed Forest’ or the ‘Witch’s Woods’. Both of these are correct. The woods are mine and they are cursed… by me. 

There was once a magnificent kingdom in the place of the stygian trees. The only remains of the kingdom were the desolate ruins of the ancient castle. The ruins were covered in curling vines with a single red rose that stood in stark contrast, surrounded by the eerie white mist. The rose was a reminder of the legend of the Forgotten Kingdom. 

The entire world seemed to rejoice when the queen of the land gave birth to a beautiful baby girl. The sun’s rays danced around the castle and illuminated the area. The King threw a huge party to which the entire kingdom was invited. The entire kingdom, except me. 

I resided in the dark corner of the land. I stayed alone in my dark tower of misery with nothing but a small raven that I treated like a child. The horns on my head were a nagging reminder of the reason for my solitude. So, when I caught wind of the King’s party, I decided to grace the castle with my presence and give the young princess a gift that would be remembered for years to come. 

As I neared the castle, I could hear the celebration happening inside. I was a polite woman of course, so I gave three sharp knocks on the door. They didn’t seem to hear so I let myself in. The party turned silent. 

“Was I not invited?” I asked with a malicious grin. The King stammered and blubbered like an idiot for a long while. It was absolutely hilarious. 

“Get out of here at once,” the queen ordered. 

“I too have a cur–, I mean, gift for the princess,” I gave a sickly sweet smile that showed my pristine fangs and I batted my eyelashes. 

I observed the room, five of the six fairies were standing on one side so I suspected some of them had already given their gifts. One fairy was standing to the other side ready to redeem whatever misfortune I bestowed upon the princess. 

I made my way to the center of the room where the crib was and got my first good look at the baby princess. 

I suppressed a gasp. She was the most beautiful creature I had ever laid my demonic eyes on! Her eyes were a misty gray that sparkled like the candles she was surrounded by. She had luscious white hair with beautiful curls that had traces of silver in it. The baby’s round face lit up as she cooed under me. This child wasn’t meant to be a princess, she was meant to be an enchantress. What if she replaced me? I whispered my curse in her ear. 

“On the eve of your 16th birthday, you prick your finger with a spinning needle and everyone in the kingdom will immediately breathe their last. You will be among them.”

After I whispered those words into the ear of the princess, the entire party descended into the welcoming arms of chaos. The King shakily held his wife as she sobbed into his arms. All while I watched with pure delight on my face. 

As I expected, the last fairy emerged from behind the curtains and tried to console the heart-broken royal family. 

“I might be able to help but I can’t fully undo the curse,” the last fairy admitted as she threw me a menacing glare. Well, as menacing as you can get when you are wearing a frilly, blue, ball gown. 

“Do what you can, please,” the King begged. 

The fairy nodded.

“The princess will not die on her 16th birthday,” she started in her shrill voice as I smirked. “Instead, she will simply fall asleep. A slumber that can be woken up by another King’s son from the neighboring lands.”

 I had to restrain everything in my power not to burst out laughing. A prince! The naive fairy was under the impression that a meager prince could stop my curse from happening. I snorted to myself.

The prince will not have a kingdom to find if all goes according to plan. 

As the years passed, the King grew more and more paranoid for his only daughter’s safety. He ordered every spindle in the kingdom to be burned. Except, of course, my own, which I kept hidden in my sanctuary in the woods.

Finally, the night of the princess’s sixteenth birthday arrived. As it happened, she was wandering about the kingdom and stumbled upon an old tower in the middle of the woods. It was a blue-moon night, so her hair seemed to glisten in the light. Her caramel skin and gray eyes made it seem like she was made for the nighttime. I took my spindle outside and started spinning just as she was passing by. She stopped for a moment and peered curiously at the spindle. The dame had never seen a spindle as far she could remember so she inched closer to it.

“What is that you’re doing, madam?” she asked in a low but sweet voice. 

“Oh, I’m just spinning myself some new garments,” I laughed. 

“May I try?” the princess ran her hands across the spindle. 

I could barely contain my grin. 

No sooner had she sat down, the princess pricked her finger with a spinning needle and the world went silent.

“Oh my! I’m feeling quite drowsy.” the young woman started to sway. Then, she fell over, doomed to a never-ending coma. 

At the same time, I could hear thuds across the kingdom as everyone fell to the ground. I cackled as lightning struck behind me. 

With a swish of my hand, I commanded the mist to cover the bodies. As always, the forest listened to me. Vines curled around the houses and the castle. 

As time passed, the vines gradually pulled all the structures below the ground. The rose that was as red as blood blossomed amid the fog.  

On the other side of the land, a young man destined to awaken the princess was growing up. 

A hundred years later, the prince did come, but he arrived to nothing but a dark forest and a woman in black robes with horns on her head, waiting for him. I raised my hand and flicked my fingers. 

He crumpled to the ground and a wisp of white vapor lingered in the air for a split second before it too disappeared. I watched the rose in front of me turn as black as ebony and wilt.

Alone at last.