Exposed

Once upon a time (I really fucking hate that opening) all the creatures and peoples far and wide gathered for a wedding. It was the happiest day of Red Riding Hood’s life as she was to be married that day to Peter who had rescued her from the destructive relationship she’d had with Big Bad (what the fuck was she thinking in the first place? Stupid girl). Peter had killed him and had him prepared as the main dish at the banquet. This made Red all the more happy at the thought that she would do the eating this time (sick fucking bitch. I bet Peter can’t eat her better than Biggie used to, though). Peter was not exceptionally wealthy, he did not compare to the wealth held by the King, but he had developed a sense for property equity and had accrued a sizable portion of land after the unfortunate death of his father (yeah. Real unfortunate). Peter sold off a considerable portion to the barons of the area for a high price after he discovered that his late fathers land was directly on top of a large gold vein. He held onto a few acres for himself to live on and was satisfied with that.
One chilly fall night Red came to his door. They had met before in town a few times and he thought her a beauty to be beheld. Not this night, however. She stood in his doorway with considerable scratches and bruises on her arms and sporting two black eyes, one bleeding slightly, dripping on her already red hood. After he cleaned and dressed her wounds and after her sobs had stopped, he asked her what had happened. She explained that she refused her lover, Big Bad Wolf, that night and he had not taken it lightly. She began to cry again and Peter told her that he would take care of it. He wrapped his black riding cloak around his shoulders and grabbed his large woodcutting axe as he exited the front door. Red chewed the hem of her hood as she waited for Peter’s return. She took this opportunity of being alone to check her body for serious injury. She fingered the deep gouges in her upper arms and hoped that Peter was as strong as he looked. She looked wearily and self consciously about the room though there was no one else but her and she spread her legs to check her sore vagina. She cursed and spat when she brought her hand back into view and saw her fingers covered in blood and semen. She prayed harder than she ever had before that her former lover would get whatever Peter felt he deserved.
After a few hours, Red fell asleep and when she awoke Peter was standing over her smiling, blood smattered across his face. He had killed Big Bad and had his body preserved for something he had planned for later; he told her that she was safe. She fell in love with him right then when she realized that he would do anything for her. She stayed with Peter for weeks and let him care for her as she recuperated. After she had healed fully, they parted with a kiss. The next day Peter was under her window, and when she came to it he proposed to her (and that is why I’m stuck here narrating this whole lurid, stupid thing).

Rapunzel, Cinderella, and Snow White were all in attendance and were even in Red Riding Hood’s meager dressing room at the rear of the church to help her with her dress among other things. Rapunzel refused to do Red’s hair as she ran a hand in consternation through her own short blonde waves and Cinderella refused to help her find the special heels which Peter had hand picked. Snow White sighed and delegated the tasks to the other two and told Red to relax and to sit; they would take care of everything. Peter, on the other end of the chapel, had his hands full with orchestrating the preparations that had never happened. He had put his trust in the Pied Piper to have everything organized, but come two days before when Peter came to check on everything, he found the Piper, drunk and sodomizing the altar boy in the confessional, the supplies for the wedding still in their boxes and the food still unprepared in the kitchen (just goes to show, don’t trust a guy who lives in a mountain and captures a bunch of kids). Peter was beside himself on the day of the wedding and had managed to have his bride completely in the dark about the debacle. He had just witnessed the haggard-looking and overworked Muffin Man pulling the massive muffin-cake out of the oven as the guests began arriving.
In an hour’s time, all was assembled and prepared and Peter stood in front of the priest sighing. The guests all turned as Red Riding Hood entered the hall and a few, namely the Three Little Pigs and the Seven Dwarves, all shed a tear or two (oh god… how does this end?)

What!? Oh fuck that “And they lived happily ever after” bullshit…. I’m changing the script on this one…
Hey. Hey! Any of you Fairy Tale fools really want to do this crap? Red. What the fuck, girl? The guy you want to marry is a fucking murderer. He’s also a liar. The stuff found on his father’s land was Fool’s Gold, he knew it all along and he still sold it to the barons. And what do you think your ring’s made of?

– A resounding slap is heard in the chapel –

And Peter. Dude. Think about it. She fucked a wolf for who-knows-how-long! And, I’m sorry, man, but I have to tell you. She’s been the town bicycle since her parents died. What kind of sick bitch are you marrying? She’s a nymph. She can’t love you. And Seven Dwarves, You’re just crying because you can’t run a train on her like you used to.

– Peter falls to his knees and mutters “oh my God” over and over as the priest chastises him for using God’s name in vain –

Oh shut the fuck up you sick bastard. Yeah you priest. You fucking sold the altar boy to the Pied Piper. You’ve been running a man-boy prostitution ring for ten years.

– All eyes turn to the priest at the front and at the Pied Piper trying to drunkenly creep out the back doors –

Well, that felt good. Good luck with the rest of your lives.

~~~~~

I’ll level with you. I felt a little bad for what I’d said to them. I mean, Red and Peter deserve to be happy even if they don’t really exist. Also, I don’t think you’ll like this story. I mean it’s full of plot holes and awful images and it doesn’t have a good ending. So I’ll give you some closure on this whole god-forsaken sad piece of crap.

Red Riding Hood couldn’t walk the streets of the town anymore with her reputation exposed. She gathered her things from Peter’s house in awkward silence as he watched her from behind glazed eyes. Once she had everything gathered together she took off her red riding hood and stuffed it in the top of one of her bags. She turned to her ex-fiancée, hunched over in a low chair not moving and barely making eye contact. She told him that she did truly love him, but she was not of the marrying type. She said that much was obvious. She asked if he had anything he wanted to say to her. He acted as though she had just walked in the room, his eyes shooting up to meet hers. He mouthed unintelligible words, but no voice came from his throat. She sighed, picked up her bags, turned and walked out the door. Her eyes brimmed with heartache but she blinked it back. She knew he would be imprisoned soon enough for his deception but she would not let him see her cry. She couldn’t let that be the last image he would see of her; it would have destroyed him.
She traveled to Paris. She had no money and she got by the only way a woman with no husband in that time could have. Every time she felt one release their seed inside her, she wept bitter tears and she swallowed her pride among other things as they threw money on her stained face or belly. After living in slums for a few months scraping out an existence selling flowers along with her own body, she had earned enough to afford a shack on the outer rim of town near what would later be the hanging grounds of the Bastille. She did her best to make it feel like a home to her. She planted some carrots and other vegetables and started a garden. And on one of her walks to collect flowers, she befriended an old carpenter who lived a mile from her shack. He offered to build her a cart so she would not have to carry her vegetables and flowers on her back into town. In a year, she had nearly an entire garden of tulips, honeysuckle plants, potatoes, turnips, and even horseradish.
That winter, as she was pulling the final tubers from the plot to the left of her home a messenger approached her and handed her a letter. It read: “To Whom It May Concern, Peter has died by order of the King for deception of the crown. He is to be buried this Wednesday. Signed, Baron Wolenscraft”. It was dated three weeks prior. She gathered her gardening tools, wrapped the scraggly potatoes in a holey cloth and took it all inside. As she closed the door behind her to shut out the winter wind, she looked down at the letter and she felt like sobbing. She, instead, put her tools away, knelt down to lie in her bed. She had nearly forgotten him, but as she forced herself to sleep she clutched the paper to her breast. Her poorly constructed shack could not provide enough shelter to block out the cold completely and Red Riding Hood eventually caught pneumonia. She could not make the hike into the city any longer and she could not afford the medication, what meager ones were available. She burned her old red riding cloak, which she never wore since she left her hometown, to keep the numb from her fingers but that night it was to no avail. She died in her sleep and shivering.

There’s your happily ever after.