A Rotten Core

By Lee Hulme

Each story in this collection explores the rotten core of fairytales and myths, the lie of eternal happiness and consequenceless action.

Meet the real Snow White, and her stepmother. They're not who you think.
See what Narcissus was really staring at in that lake.
Discover how the little pigs really defeated the wolf.
Find out what happens when the selfish young Goldilocks disturbs the lives of three bears.
Follow the quandry and tragedy of eternal life.
Hear the true story behind the witch with her gingerbread house.
Meet Goirsal, a fairy and brothel owner who you do not want to mess with.
Remind yourself that curiosity killed the cat. And the world.
And meet the princess who hasn't slept since a prince with a fetish woke her from a deathly sleep.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Lee Hulme
• Release date: Mar 2, 2014
• ISBN: 9781310576515

Lee Hulme

Lee has been telling stories since before they could write, and writing them down since the moment they learned how. A character-driven writer, Lee loves to devour and create stories in any format available, and loves to turn ideas on their heads. They have no problem admitting that they laugh and cry with their characters - except for when they do it in public.

Book preview

A ROTTEN CORE

Lee Hulme

Smashwords Edition

Copyright 2014 Lee Hulme

Discover other titles by Lee Hulme at Smashwords

After the Fairytale

To Tame the Wolf

Cover by

Elizabeth McCoy/Pictor Photography http://www.facebook.com/voxcalliope

Model: Eva Woodby

Smashwords Edition, License Notes

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Mini Foreword:

If you notice a change in the authorship of this book, you’re not seeing things. The short version is: after coming out as transgender, after a lot of thought, I decided to change what I could of my books and whatnot. Everything else remains as is.

Table of Contents

Snow White

Narcissus’ Door

Goldilocks and the Three Bears

The 3 Little Pigs

Elixir

Harry and Garry

Giorsal’s Place

Dennis’ Box

Sleepless Beauty

Snow White and the Seven Dwarves

Chapter 1

Snow White entered the kitchen smiling, only to switch to a stubborn scowl the moment she laid eyes on Nyeki, who was at the stove, cooking; a task she enjoyed enough to occasionally give the cook and his boy a night off.

HI Snow, Nyeki said, amiably, pretending not to notice the glare or the set of her jaw that always spelled trouble.

Don’t talk to me, Snow White snapped back, I hate you and I don’t want you to ever talk to me and I’m not going to eat anything you cook.

Nyeki bobbed her head gently, I’m sure you can find something you’d feel alright eating, there will be plenty of parts left for you to make your own meal from, She indicated the meat she was preparing and the pieces that remained untouched.

Snow White poked at the parts in disgust, Ewwww is that a heart?

A pig’s heart, yes, Nyeki told her, A fine delicacy.

Snow White screwed up her face and wiped her hands on her dress. Nyeki held her tongue, to comment on the red splotches now visible would not help the situation any, and turned back to continue dicing.

Snow White tapped her foot impatiently. Ignored, she sighed loudly, So what do I eat then?

Nyeki kept her face to her work, Unfortunately the cook has already left. As you’re unwilling to eat what I shall make, or cook for yourself, you may have to raid the fridge for leftovers.

Snow White stamped her foot, I shouldn’t have to! You shouldn’t be cooking! That’s why we have a cook!

Nyeki winced at the tone and kept her back to the girl, concealing the pain on her face as she shrugged her shoulders apologetically,I’m sorry, Snow. I enjoy cooking, but I should have thought of you before the cook left, I know you will eat nothing I make.

Snow White tutted, Sorry, and so you ought to be. You’re trying to starve me, aren’t you? You’re cooking on purpose so I won’t eat and then I’ll die and I won’t be here anymore and you can my Dad all to yourself, aren’t you? You’re just trying to poison him against me you evil, horrid witch!

Nyeki spun around. Hurt and sunned at the vicious tone in her step-daughter’s voice, she snapped a return, If your father ever knew you spoke to me that way he would need no help from me to be poisoned against you, wench.

Snow White screeched wordlessly and grabbed a handful of meat, throwing it at her stepmother as she ran blindly from the room.

Nyeki, used a cloth to wipe her face and dress as clean of offal as she was able, suddenly wishing she had not decided to cook. On her knees, cleaning the mess the meat had made on the floor, she picked up the pig’s heart that had disgusted Snow White so much and sat back against the siding, holding it in her hand, staring at it intently.

Um, ma’am? a low-pitched, slightly tremulous voice said, Are you okay?

Nyeki looked up and saw a young, handsome man; a hunter, from the forest clothes he wore, and the feathered arrow tips peeking over one broad shoulder. She laughed, realising what she must look like: sat on the kitchen floor, spattered in gore, holding a pig heart as if it was about to reveal the cure to all human ailments. He joined her laughter nervously.

Oh what a sight I must look. I do apologise. I had a small accident and then, when I was cleaning, well, you know how the mind wanders.

His smile broadened - yes, a hunter knew how the mind could wander, well enough – and he reached out his hand to help her up, I came in to see if there was any meat wanted, He indicated the door, "Got my cart outside, Jez gets first choice of my new kills.

Nyeki nodded, Yes, Jez is very fussy about his choice cuts. Well, now I know where his fine meat comes from; hunted by the best, says he, and I say thank you most kindly for your special treatment.

The hunter grinned and rubbed thumb and forefingers together, Not so much the special treatment for ye as the more money for me, ma’am; but the finest hunter is what some call me, and I thank ye for the compliment, he touched his peaked hat then said gently; You don’t look so good.

Nyeki tensed, and then softened at his warm tones, My stepdaughter and I had a squabble is all; I grow used to them after so many.

I mention only out o’ concern, ye understand, the hunter suddenly jerked upright, And there I go, forgot all the manners my mam taught me – always did have a sieve in the courtesy part of my brain, she used to say, he swept off his hat and bowed low, They calls me Chase, ma’am, and I’m glad to make your acquaintance and offer to be of any service I may.

Nyeki smiled kindly at his words and curtseyed to him in return, offering her hand for him to touch gently with his fingertips – as was decorum, Some call me ma’am, she said sweetly, Others call me Nyeki. I would ask you to be of the latter group, Chase, finest hunter in the,kingdom.

Chase straightened with a proud smile that made him look much younger than his apparent skill, barrel-chest and weathered face might suggest. She put him in his early twenties, but the beam that lit his features now could have made him 13 again.

Chase, if you would be of help to me I would be most grateful.

He nodded eagerly.

I do worry about Snow when she runs off, each time I fear she will not return, as does her poor father. If you found her for me, simply to watch that she was well and nothing befell her, I would be most grateful. For some reason, I have a particularly troubled feeling about this particular disappearance.

Of course, Chase nodded, I shall go now in search and pursuit. Only, if I may, I come into the town little, and here only to the kitchen - how might I recognise your Snow White?

Nyeki thought, She is young – barely 19 – yet almost as tall as you Chase, and built more like her father than her mother who, it is said, was barely more than a wisp. Her hair is black, her skin is pale, and her eyes are brown.

Chase bowed and sped from the building.

Nyeki knelt and cleaned the mess made by the troublesome girl, wondering what to feed her husband now aside from scraps formed, hopefully, into something edible. And if not edible, well, Nyeki would bow her head and accept blame for that also.

***

Snow White had ventured into the woods and, it being the first place Chase looked, was discovered easily. She was strolling without purpose, listlessly brushing the occasional flower with her hand, making little crunching noises as each step crushed the leaf-littered ground.

As Chase laid eyes on her he gaped silently. Her stepmother’s sketchy description had told him what she looked like, but not the rest. Young, she was, though possessing a stance and confidence far beyond 19 years. Her build was, indeed, that of her father – powerful and intimidating enough for a budding warrior queen. This was belied by the deep brown eyes that swam with a luscious shine, dimmed yet somehow enhanced by a touch of hidden melancholy. Her hair was as black as the feathers of a raven, her skin paler than a fresh, clean, untouched fall of snow. Her mouth was set into a stubborn line that, it seemed to Chase, was a regrettably familiar one. He longed to see that captivatingly, beautifully sad expression break into a smile. Although he thought his racing heart might burst from the place where it had lodged in his throat were such an expression to be meant just for him, he vowed to make it so. Somehow. Anyhow.

Chase stepped from the trees and spoke her name, soft as a summer breeze.

She turned. Slowly, elegantly, she turned and looked at him for a moment, seeming to open his soul with those eyes and lay each piece of him at her feet to study and digest or discard at her leisure.

Unable to help himself, Chase dropped to one knee and gazed upwards. Her head was now wreathed in the canopies of trees, split by shards of sunlight that snuck through to caress her hair; she truly was, at that moment, a Warrior Queen.

She still denied him the music of her voice until, blinded by his need to gain her love, he spoke what first fell into his head, which had been recently emptied of all previous thoughts, Your stepmother sent me to kill you and bring her your heart,

Thus the deadly combination of heady emotion and the unusual scenes of Nyeki crying amongst her raw meat created their mix and all that would follow was set smoothly into motion.

***

Snow turned to regard the owner of the voice that so gently spoke her name. She saw, in the moment before he dropped, a young-ish, handsome man with straw-coloured hair and sharp eyes of cornflower blue. He had a tough countenance and a rasping, deep voice at odds with the gentleness he projected to her. Something else in his expression troubled her, however, and when he lowered himself to gaze up at her from such an angle, she placed it.

On stable boys, servants, men young and old she had come to note the same hangdog amorous look that softened faces, eyes hearts and heads alike. These expressions dismayed and excited her in equal measure. In this man, as he opened his mouth and set free his incredible sentence, she almost sensed something that held her emotion in check, replacing them with something she did not recognise. But when he spoke, that was forgotten in the shock and disbelief.

What did you say? she asked and saw his eyes widen then fix firm, the ardour still in place but joined by something else. Fear? Apprehension? Snow could not tell.

His voice wavered slightly as he repeated himself, Your stepmother sent me to kill you and bring her your heart.

Snow hesitated. She was used to turning boys down instead of inviting them on; unless they had something she wanted. She was also used to her stepmother’s passivity. Now here was a man, a hunter from his garb and weapons, claiming he came to murder her on behalf of Nyeki. Yet instead of doing so, he fell into amorous submission and confessed his evil intent.

She put a pale hand to her chest, making it rise and fall as if she breathed harder in fear, and conjured a frightened expression, Would you do that to me, fair huntsman?

He shook his head, removed the sheath from his hip and the bow and arrows from his back and placed them on the ground at his feet, shuffling back a pace to make clear his harmlessness, Never.

Snow showed him a timidly grateful smile, Re-arm yourself, I accept your word. Come to me.

The hunter re-armed as ordered and rose, touching the fingers of the hand she proffered, still warm from its previous position at her bosom, and brushing them with his cracked lips.

***

Chase resisted the urge to place a trembling hand to his mouth and savour the touch he had been given. Instead he took a backwards stride and stood, his eyes averted, awaiting her will.

My stepmother wishes me dead, She sounded stunned, close to tears. He could not bring himself to look at her eyes for conformation and kept his silence a while longer, "I had no idea she