Wicked
Ugly
Bad
A Kinda Fairytale
Cassandra Gannon
Text copyright © 2013 Cassandra Gannon
Cover Image copyright © 2013 Cassandra Gannon
All Rights Reserved
Published by Star Turtle Publishing
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Also by Cassandra Gannon
The Elemental Phases Series
Warrior from the Shadowland
Guardian of the Earth House
Exile in the Water Kingdom
Treasure of the Fire Kingdom
Queen of the Magnetland
Coming Soon: Magic of the Wood House
Other Books
Not Another Vampire Book
Wicked Ugly Bad
Coming Soon: Love in the Time of Zombies
If you enjoy Cassandra’s books, you may also enjoy books by her sister, Elizabeth Gannon
Consortium of Chaos Series
Yesterday’s Heroes
The Son of Sun and Sand
The Guy Your Friends Warned You About
Electrical Hazard
Coming Soon: The Only Fish in the Sea
Other Books
The Snow Queen
For Maizie
My Tyrannical Princess
Table of Contents
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Epilogue
Chapter One
The Tuesday share circle is, by far, the least responsive group to therapy.
Even for villains, they’re antisocial, uncooperative, and selfish.
Until they begin working together, none of them will get anywhere.
Psychiatric case notes of Dr. Ramona Fae
If she hadn’t been insane before Cinderella tossed her into the nuthouse, she’d definitely gone full blown crazy since she’d been there.
For the six weeks, Scarlett Riding had been locked inside the Wicked, Ugly and Bad Mental Health Treatment Center and Maximum Security Prison. She knew what crazy looked like. Letty had spent the past month and a half staring at ink blots, making macaroni necklaces, and doing calming jigsaw puzzles of baby ducks, so she recognized all the signs and she accepted the truth.
She was legitimately, one hundred percent certified out-of-her-mind, now.
It was almost a relief.
Scarlett knew she was nuts, because she no longer cared that she might be nuts. Whatever dark thoughts swirled inside of her head, she preferred them to the doctors trying to “fix” her into some brainwashed zombie. From the minute they’d dragged her into the WUB Club, Lettty’s only focus had been getting out and getting even. No one was going to make her sane without one hell of a fight. She was willfully choosing Bad over Good.
Actually, no. It wasn’t really a choice, at all.
Scarlett was fighting for her life. They wanted to erase everything that made her Scarlett and remake her into one of them. Only worse, because she’d never be one of the Good folk and no one knew it better than her oppressors. They wanted to make her into an obedient worshipper of the status quo. Someone who bowed as the pretty people passed by and then dutifully built them their damn castles.
She’d sooner die.
Letty stared down at the little paper cup full of pills that the nurse handed her and tipped them into her mouth. Smiling vacantly, she took a second cup full of water pretended to swallow. “Thank you, Glinda.”
The fairy nodded, already passing out meds to the next patient in line.
Ahhh… The ever-changing, undertrained staff of the WUB Club. Once a mere annoyance and now a vital part of Scarlett’s plans. Thanks to the prison’s substandard conditions, it was almost too easy to trick the lazy Good folk staffing this place.
She slowly made her way over to the TV and sat down on one of the plastic, orange chairs. The recreation room was always busy this time of day. Insane villains liked talk shows. Not surprisingly, Scarlett herself found the programs more hypnotic with each passing day. She listened as some nice, ordinary bears accused a snotty little blonde girl of breaking into their house and sleeping in their beds. Of course, the simpering host was on Goldilocks’ side.
Good folk stuck together.
The stupid pills were already dissolving under Scarlett’s tongue and they tasted terrible. Still, she kept her expression neutral, until she finally felt safe enough to pretend to drink the last of the water. Actually, she used the opaque sides of the cup as cover and just spit the pills into the waxy little container.
She’d been pulling that trick for a week now and it worked like a charm. Under other circumstances she’d be appalled by how easy it was, as a matter of fact. The gloomy apathy of the hospital worked in her favor, but you’d think they’d be a little more vigilant in this dump. Who wanted crazy lunatics off their meds?
Well, besides the crazy lunatics.
Still, every hour without the drugs in her system, Letty could feel herself returning to normal. Soon, she’d be getting out of there and making her stepsister pay.
She had to. Time was running out.
Once Cinderella got the ring on Charming’s finger there would be nothing to stop her from killing Scarlett and Dru. If they didn’t escape soon, that blonde bitch would come for them and this time she wouldn’t be content with just straightjackets and armed guards. This time there would be blood.
It was escape or die.
Letty crumpled up the cup and got to her feet. “Time for group.” She announced to no one in particular, although an elf named Merle gave her a vague nod.
She casually tossed the paper cup full of pills into the trash as she strolled out the door and waved at an orderly. It was better to be friendly and agreeable. She’d figured that out in the second week. You couldn’t successfully plot anything if they suspected you were plotting. So she tried to act browbeaten and complacent.
Most of the time.
The WUB Club was housed in an industrial box of a building, completely different from the beautiful palaces and charming villages in the rest of the Four Kingdoms. Lots of long, dingy corridors flanked by doors with frosted windows and plastic name plates. Everything was painted the same ugly green as her elementary school auditorium and smelled like mold mixed with heavy-duty cleanser. Since very little cleaning went on, Letty assumed the scent had just worked its way into the walls and linoleum.
Nothing but the best from dear Cindy.
Scarlett’s stepsister had sent her to a place of hopelessness and despair. Given the low standard of care and lack of food, it wasn’t surprising that so few Baddies ever left the WUB Club alive. Suicid
es were the biggest killer, claiming a least once person a week. No doubt Cinderella was hoping that Letty would eventually be among the ones who just gave up.
Unfortunately for her, Letty didn’t give up easy.
She stopped at the last door in the hallway and took a deep breath. Group therapy was one of the worst parts of being adjudicated criminally insane.
Firming her jaw, she marched inside the windowless room and took her seat in the share circle. God, she hated Tuesdays. The only positive part of the whole humiliating spectacle was that she got to spend time with her sister.
Drusilla had been tossed in the WUB Club with her and imprisonment was even harder on Dru that it was on Scarlett. She sat listlessly in her chair, staring at the wall. Her red hair was unwashed and lank, her unpretty face blank. Neither sister had ever been beautiful, but now Dru looked like a hollow, gaunt shell of the person she’d been.
Shit.
Scarlett needed to find a way to get Dru off the meds. Unfortunately, Drusilla and Letty were kept apart as much as possible, so it was impossible for them to really talk. It was yet another way for Cindy to try and break them.
It wouldn’t work, though.
Letty had always taken care of Dru and she always would. But, the best way to ensure that her sister lived a long and happy life was to stop Cindy from getting what she wanted.
Scarlett tried to catch Dru’s eye but her sister was lost inside her own mind. Maybe it was for the best, right now. Scarlett still didn’t have an actual plan to get them out of there, so she didn’t want to get Dru’s hopes up.
She sighed and looked around the rest of the Tuesday share circle. A bridge ogre, a troll, a wicked witch, a deposed prince, and that insufferable wolf. So, everyone else had shown up, which meant that nobody had disappeared into the bowels of the institution since last week.
For some reason, Scarlett was glad about that. So often, prisoners would just vanish, never to be heard from again. It bothered Scarlett how no one else seemed to care about that or asked where they went. The people locked up in the WUB Club were all Bad, but they were still people.
It made Scarlett wonder if anyone would notice when her turn came to disappear. As soon as the royal wedding was over, Cindy would have Scarlet dragged off in the night, never to be heard from again. There wasn’t a doubt in her mind.
Dr. Ramona Fae, their “facilitator,” stood by the whiteboard, drawing a complicated mass of circled words and connected lines. Something about apples and wands being triggers for magic addictions… God! Why did physiatrists all love diagrams? That incomprehensible web of steps was supposed curb violent impulses, but it just made Scarlett want to punch someone.
Plus, she’d forgotten her feelings journal back in her room, so Dr. Ramona was going to be pissed when they got started. Actually, Scarlett hadn’t “forgotten” it so much as she’d deliberately tossed it out the barred window. She might be crazy, but she sure wasn’t crazy enough to give a shit about a “feelings journal.” Although a big part of her did want to write “kill, kill, kill” on every page, just to see if Ramona’s condescending expression finally faded as Scarlett shared that with the group.
God, she really needed to get out this place.
Still, the guy beside her was eating the pages of his journal, so Scarlett wasn’t too worried about falling behind the rest of the group. She watched as Benji the bridge ogre ripped a spiral-bound sheet free, crumpled it up, and popped it into his mouth. No one stopped him. The monster was eight feet tall, covered in blue fur, and built like a –well-- a bridge ogre. Sweet as he was, it was best to just let him snack.
“Lookin’ a little stressed there, Red.” A deep voice drawled. “Anything you wanna share with the rest of the class?”
Against her will, Scarlett’s eyes traveled over to the bane of her already miserable existence. If there was one person in this place who should be locked up and away from society, it was Marrok Wolf.
He smirked at her, slouching in his seat with typical lupine grace, looking completely gorgeous and completely immoral. Even in his human form, Marrok retained a wildness that commanded attention. His unevenly cut hair fell forward over the exotic angles of his face, his golden eyes constantly watching her through the tawny strands.
Marrok was the best looking man in the Four Kingdoms, Good or Bad. If he hadn’t been born evil, he would have been a perfect knight. Even his body was custom made for charging around on horseback, slaying monsters. Tall and broad-chested, with muscles that didn’t come from a gym. His looks were so… gallant. So heroic. Such a shame that a dashing, valiant exterior was wasted on a complete asshole.
Everyone in their group was assigned the same solid red uniforms, but Marrok was one of the few who looked stunning in the familiar sweatpants and t-shirt that read, ‘EVIL.’ It annoyed Scarlett that she was on the same security level as that maniac. Firstly, because the crimson color of her “EVIL” outfit clashed with her red hair and secondly because she wasn’t evil.
Ugly, yes. Wicked, sure.
But, she wasn’t like the wolves, for God’s sake.
No Baddies were popular in the Four Kingdoms, but Marrok and his brethren were some of the least respected. They were only tolerated for their entertainment value and then quietly disposed of when they being useful. They were usually “drafted” into televised athletic competitions, because of their size, aggressiveness and camera-ready faces. They were bet on and bought and treated like prize winning race horses. Except, unlike horses, women often paid to sleep with the wolves.
Marrok was the best player in the Wolfball leagues, but he caused endless problems both on and off the field. Even Scarlett knew that and she refused to follow the brutal mix of wresting and football that always seemed to leave someone broken on the ground. He was brilliant at his assigned role as the… whatever the player who tackled people and tried to kill them was called. If the different positions even had names. The sport gave every indication of being a rule-less melee, so maybe the players were all interchangeable.
It seemed to Letty that the Good folk of the Four Kingdoms just liked to pit their teams of semi-enslaved Baddies against each other out of sheer random bloodlust. Most wolves accepted that as their lot and made the best of it for as long as they could, soaking up the limelight and relishing their pseudo-celebrity.
Marrok had taken a different path.
He’d been uncooperative to the point of madness, dismissive of everything the Good folk held dear, and unrepentantly Bad. In return, the audience loved him… even if his inability to follow orders got him thrown in jail a lot.
It helped that he was gorgeous, of course. And charismatic. And a fantastic liar. He was constantly in and out of the WUB Club for violating rules. But, he always returned to the field with a shining smile and a promise to do better… which he absolutely didn’t mean.
It was completely ridiculous that Scarlett was lumped in with the biggest, Baddest wolf in the Four Kingdoms. Letty had never done anything wrong and they treated her even worse than someone with fifty counts of Badness on his record. She’d formally protested the unfairness of it when she first arrived, which in retrospect had been a mistake.
It just meant she’d caught Marrok’s attention.
He gazed at her with cruel delight from across the share circle. “I was thinking about you last night.” He drawled, ignoring the fact she was ignoring him. “As you know, thinking of others takes us outside of our own problems. I think about you a lot.” His unsettling yellowish eyes glowed. “Now… did ya ever consider that maybe you wanted Cinderella to climb into that pumpkin and steal the guy from you? Maybe it was your way out.”
Scarlett kept her gaze on his and didn’t respond to his idiotic theory. Reactions encouraged him. Marrok preyed on the weak, so you just had to stare him down like any other animal.
“I mean, maybe you knew Cinderella was the mysterious girl at the ball the whole time. Maybe you wanted her to have that dipshit Charming. Maybe you were glad
when she jammed her foot into that shoe, because it got you off the hook.”
Scarlett wasn’t going to say one word about the glass slipper to anyone. Her stepsister had spies everywhere. Still, Marrok’s smug words pissed her off.
“Off the hook?” She scoffed. “The hook where I’d get to marry the handsome prince and rule a kingdom with my piles of money, you mean? We should check with your doctors, because they need to adjust your meds, Wolf.”
His mouth curved at that, understanding the threat.
Ever since she’d stopped taking her pills, Scarlett had developed a sixth sense around other patients who’d started their own secret rehab programs. Just looking at him, she knew Marrok was keeping himself clean and sober, which frankly scared the hell out of her. She came from a long line of famous criminals and even she was impressed with his potential for villainy. She had no idea what he was capable of.
Especially, since he knew she was abstaining from her tranquilizers, too. She could see the awareness of it in his gaze as he leaned forward.
“I think we’re both doing okay with this dosage.” He murmured. “And I didn’t mean to upset you, by bringing up your past. I’m sure you told yourself you wanted to be the trophy princess for that dickhead. But, in the end, your…” He hesitated thoughtfully. “Hmmm. Hey, Doc, what’s the politically correct phrase for not gettin’ any, again?”
God, Scarlett hated him.
Marrok didn’t bother to glance in Ramona’s direction as he pretended to remember. “Oh, yeah!” He snapped his fingers. “Your repressed sexual desires got the better of you, Red.”
She wasn’t sure whether the nickname derived from her hair, the group’s color designation or “Scarlett.” Whichever reason, it bugged her. “If I offered you some kind of dog treat, would you finally shut up?”
He ignored that. “Your instincts subconsciously drove you away from that limp-dicked man-boy, for your own good. You secretly wanted some evildoer to fuck you into the ground, even while you were pouting that you didn’t get a fairy godmother to whammy you a pretty dress for the party.” He snorted. “And, by the way, why the hell would you want a guy that hung up on women’s clothes? I think it hints at unresolved issues in your childhood, don’t you, Doc?”
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