Twisted Fairy Tale: Rose by Amy Giuffrida

Welcome to the 8th annual #SpookyShowcase! The Spooky Showcase celebrates the dark minds of creatives around the world through short stories and artistic creations that are dark in nature, macabre, or horror themed.

This year’s theme is Twisted Fairy Tales. Expect twisted legends, creepy creations, and dark fairy tales that will keep you up at night. Visit each day in the month of October for a scare. The master schedule is here.


By Amy Giuffrida

Tiny sparkles danced in the rays of the sun as they fell toward the floor. Unimpressed by the simple beauty of the dust mites glimmering in the air, Rose wiped her sweaty brow with her forearm. The task was a heavy one—pushing and pulling the wet mop across the floor. Today, the smell of bleach as she worked didn’t cause her stomach to clench. Today, it was a welcomed smell, for Rose had done a very bad thing.

Often she was set to the task of scrubbing away the evidence of a decapitated head or other limb after her sisters had an evening of mischief and mayhem, dancing all night long with their friends—one of them always ending up with a little less than they came with.

But this was her mess. To the best of her knowledge, it truly wasn’t her fault. The man did arrive without being announced. There was no party. In fact, her sisters had gone to bed early, each with a headache somehow blamed on Rose. One said it was Rose’s perfume. Another said it was the dust she missed during her morning chores. And the third sister said that it strained her eyes to just look at Rose. So she knew for sure, that at the early time of eight o’clock all three of her whiney sisters were tucked in their grandiose beds snoring away not fifteen minutes later.

The house was quiet. So quiet that you could hear the mice in the walls. As she sat by the fire reading a book, a warm and gentle hand touched her shoulder. Rose nearly jumped out of her skin, but she had trained for this day. Just as her step-mother taught her, Rose slowly reached under the chair she sat in and pulled out the hidden knife. With swiftness no one could have guess Rose had, she swiped upward with her right hand. The knife caught in the perfect spot and red rain fell around her.

Without the price on her head, Rose never would have been trained to kill. But the King swore to avenge the death of his son. It didn’t matter that he was the one to run out on Rose. He was supposed to be her one true love, but that was a joke. While he was the bravest man the girl had ever met, he was no match for our dear Rose. For during her long rest dreamt about murderous things. Darkness had crept into her heart, then seized her mind. Filled it with want and need to destroy anyone who thought she needed someone. Something. She in fact, needed no one.

Rose had heard quite a lot about girls in neighboring forests, who were just like her sisters. While the fair maidens were cutting off parts of their feet in order to fit into a shoe, Rose was planning and plotting to take out the very princes who all others swooned for. Even dear old Prince Charming himself.

So when she had to be awakened by a kiss she never asked for, Rose decided right then and there that the Prince shouldn’t live. On their honeymoon, Rose approached the prince as he stood on the balcony of their room. He knew what she was there to do. The prince didn’t even turn her way, instead he leapt from the balcony to his death. Rose ran and ran, but she never could run from her step-mother. She found Rose hidden behind a cottage in the woods.

The empty place was somewhere no one would look for her, so Rose stayed put. She began her life over here amongst the trees and animals. At least it was quiet until her sisters came for a visit. They loved to get away from their mother and make trouble. Without their random visits, Rose was all alone. That is she was until last night’s visitor.

After the spray of blood, Rose turned as the body fell to the floor. She sank to the ground as realization took hold—there the prince lie on the floor clutching his neck. He struggled to speak, but Rose hushed him. As his chest rose and fell for the last time, Rose stood and began the process of making the body disappear.

About the Author

Amy’s life is consumed with all things bookish. Amy is an Associate Literary Agency at JDLA. When she’s not working on books, she’s talking about stories with her classes as an 8th grade ELA (English/Language Arts) teacher. In her spare time, you can find her renovating her house, binge-watching TV shows on Hulu, or reading something scary—all while snuggling with her three rescue dogs.


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