Fairytale Frankenstein – “Black, Wilted and Bloody”

Once upon a time, far, far away, in the kingdom of Geneva, the king and Queen gave birth to a prince, whom they named Victor.

When Victor was very young, the Queen brought back with her from a visit to a neighbouring kingdom, a princess. She had spun gold curls, eyes like sapphires, skin like cream, and a sweet temperament. Her name was Elizabeth and she was betrothed to the prince. As they got older they began to love each other.

As the prince and princess grew up together, the court wizard taught them magic. On the prince’s seventh birthday the wizard gave him a spell which would conjure up a little clown to entertain him.  He gave to the little prince a white rose. The prince placed the rose onto the ground before him as the wizard had instructed. The wizard taught the prince how to weave the magic, and then, where the rose once was there was instead a petite clown, all droll and delightful, tumbling about front of them. The prince danced about with the clown for a while, until, fate it was that the little clown lay down upon the ground and died. It then turned back into the rose it once was, except now it was black and wilted. ‘Why did the clown die?’ asked the prince. ‘Because the flower died’ replied the wizard. ‘Why did the rose die?’ asked the little prince. ‘Because it is nature, and nature can overcome most magic.’ The little prince then said to himself, ‘then I will defy nature,’ and was determined to do so.

After that day the little prince was so intent on learning magic, becoming more and more powerful that many were afraid of him, and he in turn becoming more of an introvert everyday. The princess tried to get him to talk to her, but he ignored her, then came the day when he found the book in the royal library, a book of dark magic. He turned to a page entitled “Necromancy” and there found a spell for giving life to a rose, forever. He did as the spell asked and slaughtered a hundred of his people. A drop of blood from each of those people was placed on the petals of a red rose. Though the wizard begged him not to do, still the prince wove the spell and the rose became a misshapen little boy. Not sweet and beautiful, like the clown had been, but with twisted features. The prince was horrid and cast the boy out of his castle, though the princess had wanted to take pity on him, and keep him. In the world outside the manikin met many people, all whom ridiculed and rejected him because of his twisted features, often they had even fled when they sighted him, screaming ‘Monster!’ The little boy could not take the cruelty of human nature and fled into the nearby woods.

It was quiet in the woods, and the manikin found the peace he had wanted. He continued further in the woods when he saw a clearing, where he saw a young girl, who seemed to be feeling around with a wooden walking stick. He stayed hidden behind trees, but he was curious to see what she was doing; for all that he knew of humans was that they could hurt.  Wandering closer he tripped on a hidden root and landed in the girl’s plain view. The boy waited for the girl’s cry of horror, but instead the girl was just startled and said, ‘who is there?’ it was when the boy looked into the girl’s face and saw the milky look in her eyes that he realised that the girl was blind. ‘I am a poor boy, with no name, who are you?’ he asked gently afraid that he might scare her away with his voice. She smiled and replied, ‘my name is Agatha Delacey, I’m lost, I was hoping that a friend might return me to my house.’ The boy obliged willingly, and helped the girl return to her house, which was not far. The girl’s sister was dancing in the sunlight. The boy said to Agatha, ‘your sister dances well.’ and she agreed. He was in awe, but then she stopped dancing abruptly when she saw the twisted figure that lead his sister. ‘Agatha! A monster leads you! Beware! Beware!’ she called, and came at the boy with a broom. The boy was heart broken and was enraged that the beautiful girl would hurt him. He felt rage in his heart and with strength that was magically enhanced; he acted upon the rage and broke the dancer’s legs. ‘Your beauty is no more!’ he screamed and fled from the scene, blind Agatha crying and wondering what had happened. The twisted child had tasted the satisfaction of giving in to his rage, and was torn between being horrified and delighted at the same time. In the end the feeling of delight took over and he felt that he was right and they were wrong to reject him, so he set out to punish mankind.

He returned to the town that he had come from, killing all those who ridiculed him. He was on his way to the castle in which the prince resided, but was enticed away from his mission when he heard the most beautiful voice emanate from a small church. He crept in and watched and listened to the chorister who was closing the mass. He was hidden behind the pillars in the church as the churchgoers left quietly, leaving the chorister humming quietly to himself as he prepared to leave. The manikin left his hiding place and showed himself to the boy. The chorister was startled then horrified at the sight that had appeared before him. He was too shocked to speak, so the manikin spoke first. ‘Sing for me, your voice holds beauty,’ he asked roughly. ‘No,’ said the chorister, arrogant because of the gift of song God had endowed him with, ‘my voice is beautiful and too god for one as ugly as you.’ The twisted creature the misshapen boy had become came forth and tore out the chorister’s throat. The monster then left with blood still dripping from his fingers.

The rage had not left his heart and he approached the castle with amazing speed. He threw open the castle gates and charged in. The princess was sitting in the courtyard, and had been unable to react to the twisted child that came at her and snapped her neck. The manikin swept the princess’ corpse into his arms and stormed up the main stairway. He fought off all the guards that came and attempted to stop him. The prince came out of his rooms where he had been brooding since the spell. The monster threw the corpse down at the prince’s feet and yelled at him, ‘There’s your precious princess!’ the prince was heartbroken and cradled the corpse in his arms. So blinded by his tears was he that the prince did not see the twisted child go up behind him and pull the heart from his back. The days of the prince’s dark magic were over with that action. The twisted boy cried with joy, the rage in his heart appeased as the tears ran from his eyes. The spell was broken as the boy felt joy for the first time and he faded, leaving naught but a black and wilted rose. The queen and king emerged from their safe room too see the prince dead with the princess’ corpse in his arms in a loving embrace. They also saw the dead rose, but took no attention to it, until a smell of blood drifted from its heart. The stench of blood wafted through the kingdom, and where it reached, the crops died, and nothing grew. High was the price with which the doomed child was bought; high was the price of necromancy.

And yet through all the death and sadness that had happened the people still had hope. All moved to the neighbouring kingdom, and forgot all about the prince and princess, and everyone lived happily ever after.

The End.