Once Upon a Happy Ending: An Anthology of Reimagined Fairy Tales

by Casey Lane

  No. Those things were saved for the Red Hood, the girl chosen by her people on the eve of every new year as a sacrifice to appease the bloodthirsty monsters living in these impenetrable woods.

  And this year, this time, the Hood was me.

  I heard the door swing open and didn’t need to turn to know who it was. I had said my goodbyes to everyone else who mattered. My friends, my superior officers, even my younger sister. Tears had burned through her eyes as I told her that it was up to her to care for Father now. And yet, she nodded firmly, knowing I was right.

  The only person who had any business around me right now was the one person I couldn’t bear to see.

  “You look like her,” Father said, his voice distant enough for me to know he was still standing in the doorway.

  “I didn’t want you to come here.” I dropped my head so he couldn’t see my teary eyes in the reflection of the mirror.

  “Where else would I go?” His footsteps plodded toward me. “I couldn’t let the last time I saw you be the last time I ever see you.” His voice broke at the end and, though I couldn’t bear to look, I knew he was crying. “That wouldn’t be fair to either of us.”

  His hand rested on my shoulder, and in that moment, I was a little girl again. I wanted to crumple into him, to lose myself in this moment, to let him tell me everything would be okay.

  Doing that would be selfish, though. He was going through enough, and if losing my mother taught me anything, it was that sometimes living is harder than dying.

  “Marta needs you right now,” I said, still looking down but trying to steel myself up enough to at least come off as having it quasi-together.

  “Your sister is fine. Your sister will always be fine,” he answered. “You assured that now.”

  While it was true only one girl from each family could be chosen in any generation, Marta’s survival and prosperity was by no means secure. I had done much in the years since my mother’s death to build a life for the rest of my family. Father dipped into the drink for years after that and, while he pulled himself out of that and now was one of the Clearing’s most respected men, those years instilled a hardness and a work ethic in me which have helped me make it through. Marta didn’t have that, and part of me was petrified about what would become of her because of it.

  “You have to promise me you won’t fall apart,” I said, finally looking up.

  I saw my father in the mirror, instinctively understanding that it was easier to face a reflection than the real thing. He looked tired and about a hundred years older than he had we received the letter yesterday, stating I had been chosen.

  “Promise me,” I repeated.

  “I’m not the man I was back then,” he said, though his voice was less firm than I would have liked.

  “I know that.” My hands twisted together in front of me, but the cloak hid my tell. “But if I’m going into those woods, and I’m to have any hope of peace, then I need to know you’re never going to be that man again.”

  He squeezed my shoulder. “On my soul,” he said. “On the love I bear you, I swear I will never—” He broke down, tears flowing down his cheeks as wrenched forward.

  “That’s enough now,” I said, pulling away. “We can’t have that.”

  I turned and finally met him. Brushing tears off his cheeks, I took a deep breath. Be strong one last time, Lila. Just once more. That’s all you need.

  “Endings are only sad if we allow them to be,” I whispered. “This is my ending, Father. And sadness is just not something I’ll allow.”

  The bell rung loudly throughout the town, signifying that we could wait no longer. My time had come. I would face this like a woman of virtue, strength, and dignity. I would face this the way my mother had.

  May death welcome me with swift kindness.

  Hello from the Other Side

  “Come now,” I said, taking my father’s hand and pulling him toward the door.

  I could see the red hood from the corner of my eye, encroaching on my face, encroaching on everything I had ever been. But I wouldn’t allow it. If sadness was a choice, then so was identity.

  We stepped outside and made haste for the bell tower, and as I rounded the Great Hill, my dreams for a happy ending floated into the distance.

  For years now, standing here—atop this hill at the highest point of the Clearing—was where the ceremony of the Red Hood took place. It always seemed so poignant to me. This was the one spot in the Clearing where everything could be seen. Looking left, you could see the granaries and crop fields. Looking right, you could see the residential area where I and everyone I had ever known in my life had grown up. Our entire world was this place, these acres and acres of land which served as our both our lifeblood and tomb.

  The entire population of the Clearing was there to see me off, their faces streaked with red paint as was customary for the Ceremony.

  My sister would be among them, likely crying as she watched me ascend the hill. I tried not to find her, though. Seeing Marta wouldn’t help now. Better that she remembered our last interaction as a happy one, as me making her pancakes last night and tucking her into bed. I needed to be strong, regardless of the fear that was welling up in my gut.

  “Mother did this,” I reminded myself in a low voice as I ascended the hill with my father behind me.

  She’d looked so graceful all those years ago, with a similar red hood draped across her head, her eyes clear and her jaw sturdy. She never let them see her sweat, and I wasn’t about to, either.

  I made it to the top of the hill, forcing my eyes out of focus so that I didn’t have to be met with the expressions of people I had grown up with. I already knew what they would be: a mixture of fear, sorrow, and pride. As I took a deep breath, I had to admit that I’d always found myself firmly in the prideful camp.

  There had been something special about being chosen for this, about being picked to journey out into the woods and come face to face with the things that kept us trapped here and to make the journey that would ensure our survival. Maybe it was a reaction to watching Mother head off into these woods, never to return. To know what her sacrifice had meant, and to know I would now be following in her footsteps.

  Perhaps seeing it as an honor was the only way I could process what happened to her.

  “Lila Archer,” the blurry visage of our spiritual leader Fr. Garman started as the bell rang throughout the Clearing again. “You have been chosen by the Elders and by the Fates to serve as a sacrifice for your people. We thank you for your service. May release come swiftly, and may your soul ascend to the Greater Plains.”

  “Many blessings on your ascension,” I heard the entirety of my people call out, speaking words I had heard every year on this day for as long as I could remember.

  When I was a girl, I used to imagine what this would feel like. I wondered what might run through a person’s head, knowing their life would be cut short, that their future would never be fulfilled, but that they would be remembered throughout all time as a hero.

  The blurry visage approached me, and I flinched at what was about to happen. Refusing to let my eyes pull back into focus, I felt the sting as Fr. Garman ran a blade down my arm, slicing a shallow valley into my skin.

  “Go on, dear,” Fr. Garman said.

  I swallowed hard and pulled forward, only to find my father’s hands on my shoulders, holding me in place.

  “This can still be a happy ending, Father” I muttered. “Remember that.” My voice cracked as I spoke, as I tried to convince myself that it was true. But even if I couldn’t do that, I needed to convince him. “Please,” I said, moving my hand up to him and squeezing it. “It’s my parting wish.”

  “Of course,” he promised, though he could barely get the words out. His Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed, then he slowly released me. “I love you, Lila.”

  I moved forward, one step farther from him and one step closer to my fate. “I love you, too, Father,” I whispered back at him.
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  Settling in the middle of the Great Hill, I closed my eyes completely. I could have taken this moment—as the members of the Clearing came at me with blades of their own—to take a last look at my home.

  Why would I do that, though? I knew this place. I had committed it to memory. One final glance at the world I’d be leaving behind didn’t seem necessary, and it also made me susceptible of seeing Marta again. I could deal with that, couldn’t deal with the tears that were undoubtedly streaming down her face. Better to stand here, enduring the stings of countless little cuts, and think of better days.

  The cuts ended as the bell rang through the Clearing for a third time. I moved forward, opening my eyes only after the chatter of the people around me had died down.

  I looked out at the woods before me. Then I glanced down at myself. Blood streaked my arms and legs, painting them the same color as the hood I now wore. It was said the bloodshed was necessary to indicate sacrifice to the beasts. That the beasts would pick up on my scent and coming running. Without this age-old ritual, it was believed the beasts might think no sacrifice had been made and punish the entire Clearing as a result.

  I took a deep breath, bidding my time at the mouth of these huge, horrifying woods. Many people turn around now, telling their families they love them and not to forget them. Some have other words, words meant to convey great truths and cement their legacy as heroes. Still, there are some, such as my mother, who forgo this, heading directly into the woods without so much as turning back.

  I would go as she had gone.

  I walked forward, my heart beating hard against my ribcage. The fourth bell—the last bell—rang through the Clearing to instruct all those watching that the ceremony was now over. All but two would all be asked to leave, to go on about the business of their lives, forgetting about the girl they had just tossed into a predator’s den.

  The remaining pair would sit here until dusk, ensuring that fear didn’t overtake me and send me running back out. They had nothing to worry about. That sort of shame would never be something I’d visit upon my family. Even death would be preferable to that.

  Taking another settling breath, I took stock of the world around me. The woods were thick, lines of trees running out as far as the eye could see. I needed to get moving. If I didn’t get away from the cusp of the woods, the beasts would find me too near to the Clearing, and who was to say they wouldn’t smell someone else’s scent and go rushing in before they realized they’d taken the wrong person as sacrifice?

  So I started running. I ran as far and as fast as I could, my lungs burning and the hood dragging at my feet. My heartbeat roared in my ears as thoughts of what was about to happen to me poured through my mind.

  Would these monsters be merciful? Would they make it quick as the prayer Fr. Garman spoke on the Great Hill suggested? Or would they stretch it out? Would they keep me alive for days and weeks, writhing in pain before I finally died?

  Is that what happened to my mother?

  A loud SNAP shot through to my eardrums, and the world pulled away from me. A large netting encircled me, yanking me toward the sky before it stopped, leaving me to bob in the air.

  I let out a sharp and instantly regrettable shriek. If I had just tripped one of the beasts’ traps, then my yelling would only bring them faster. Then again, if everything I’d learned about them was true, why would beasts need to build traps in the first place?

  Looking down, my heart settled firmly in my throat, I heard a rustling in the brush below. My entire body tensed. This was it—the beginning of my end. I took a deep breath, preparing to go out with dignity.

  “Goddamn it!” a voice shot out from the brush.

  My eyes widened as a man with sandy hair, emerald green eyes, and copper skin stepped out. He looked up at me, his strong jaw clenched together tightly and his khaki shirt half buttoned, revealing the top of a very well sculpted and sweaty chest.

  The man lifted his hand, his eyes never breaking with my own. “No,” he said, speaking into a communicator. “It’s not one of them. It’s just the girl. She fucked up one of the traps.”

  I narrowed my eyes. Who was he talking to? And if the trap wasn’t set for me, then who was it for? The beasts?

  Could the beasts be trapped?

  The man lowered his hand. “Hold still,” he said, locking his gaze on mine. “I’m going to cut you down.”

  A panic started in my chest as my mind played through every possible scenario. What if he was one of the beasts?

  “What’s going on?” I asked, swallowing hard. “You’re not a beast, right?”

  He pulled a shining blade from his pocket and took it to a taut rope I hadn’t seen in my haste. “Do I look like one of the beasts?”

  How should I know? I hadn’t ever seen one before. In my mind, they were huge, hairy, and definitely not quite so handsome. But what if I was wrong?

  He cut through the rope. I plummeted toward the earth, but he grabbed the rope and pulled it tight, stopping my momentum. Slowly giving it slack, he lowered me gently to the ground. He then took the blade and cut me out of the damn thing before helping me to my feet.

  “What in the world—”

  “Name’s Hunter,” he said, stuffing the blade into a sheath at his hip. “I’m your guide.”

  “My guide?” My heart lurched as I brushed blond curls out of my eyes. “Do you work for the beasts?”

  “Ha!” he chuckled bitterly, staring at me like I was dimmest bulb in the schoolhouse. Which was a bit unfair. For all I knew of the world outside the clearing—for all anyone knew—I might as well be on another planet. “I most certainly do not work for the beasts,” he continued. “I work for the Clearing, against the beasts.”

  “No you don’t,” I answered quickly. “I grew up in the Clearing. I know everyone who lives there, and I’ve never seen you before.”

  A sly smile curled his lips. “Well, I don’t live in the Clearing, exactly. More like under it.” He crossed his arms over his chest. “Look.” He flipped his palm over to read a name on the other side. “Lila Archer, right?”

  I nodded.

  “Good, then. Here’s the thing. You weren’t sent here as a sacrifice. None of you were.”

  My mind swam. No, that couldn’t be true. If it were, I would know. If my mom hadn’t been sacrificed, I would have seen here again. Eventually. Somehow.

  I stumbled back, falling against a tree, but the man caught me by my bloody arm.

  “Right. We get that reaction a lot. There’s a lot of the Clearing that you don’t know. A lot about these woods and this world that you don’t know.” He cocked his head and motioned for me to follow as he walked out into the thicker part of the woods. “Follow me.”

  “To where?” I asked, but I’d already started after him. “And are there really beasts out here?”

  “Oh, yes,” he said. “Most definitely. And we’re going to feed you. You’ll need your strength for what’s to come.”

  Be Still, My Beating Heart

  I had no reason to trust Hunter, but then again, it wasn’t as if anyone else was going to rush into these woods to help me. As the girl who wore the red hood, I was on my own. Regardless of how much my father or Marta might have wanted to come save me from my fate, doing so would only result in either their own deaths of banishment from the Clearing.

  Besides, I’d come in here prepared to face vicious beasts that would rip me limb from limb. I’d come in here prepared to die. Comparatively, following a man who was promising me food didn’t register on the danger scale.

  So, with absolutely nothing to lose, I stayed a few paces behind Hunter and kept walking until we came upon a burning fire with some sort of charring animal roasting over it on a spit.

  “Look at that. It’s nearly done,” Hunter said, taking a seat on the ground beside the fire and motioning for me to join.

  My mouth watered as I did, the smell of what I knew to be wild boar causing my stomach to rumble embarrassingly. I had conside
red the pancake dinner with Marta last night to be my final meal. Now that I wasn’t dead though, and faced with a choice piece of tender, roasting meat, my body decided it thought otherwise.

  “Don’t worry,” he said, looking over at me. “It’ll be done soon.”

  “And we’re going to eat it?” I asked. “Both of us?”

  Hunter arched an eyebrow “Absolutely not.”

  I winced. “Oh.”

  “I can’t eat that,” he said. “The sodium in it will react with my physiology. It’ll make me visible to them.”

  “Them?” I asked, though I was more interested in the idea that this entire beautiful boar was all for me. “Who’s them?”

  “The beasts.” He leaned forward and grabbed a bowl. He scooped up something from a pot sitting on the fire under the boar. It looked to be clear water, but he scooped it with such anticipation that it had to be something more. “Listen, what you know about things isn’t exactly accurate. You see the Clearing as a sort of oasis. Safe from a world that is either on fire or already burned to ash. Am I right?”

  “Basically,” I said, watching him bring the liquid up to his face and drink it down quickly.

  “Yeah. See, that’s not the way it is,” Hunter said after swallowing the liquid. “Or, at least, that’s not the way it is anymore. Do you remember the Great Losses?”

  “Of course I do.” Everyone in the Clearing knew of the Great Losses, when a third of our people headed out into the woods in an attempt to quell the beasts surrounding us. They never returned, and it was then that the Clearing decided once and for all that trying to fight these things was a fool’s errand. “We honor those who died every year.”

  “No one died.” He put the bowl down. “At least not then.”

  I sat up straighter. “Yeah, well, no offense, but I don’t know you from Adam. As far as I know, those people are dead. And I’m next.”

  He nodded. “I get it. But how about I tell you my version of things, and then we see where things go from there.”