Faerytale Noir Read online

  Faerytale Noir

  CoraRose

  Copyright © 2018 CoraRose

  All rights reserved.

  SBN-13: 978-1984260109

  ISBN-10: 1984260103

  DEDICATION

  To Jeff, who loves the darkness as well as the light within me.

  To Sean, Isaac, Vincent for being the support I needed when Jeff wasn't on, and all the goofs in the NSFW chat who kept me going when I needed to just laugh through the frustrations.

  To my family who still look at me odd for the ideas found within. This one's for you XD

  Also a Very Special Thanks to the Guest Writer-- Direrain. Only you could take on a bear full of fluff and still make people smile in the end. Props to you!

  1. Wolf With The Red Roses (Little Red Riding Hood)

  2. Jack Went Splat, And The Titans Are Back (Jack and the Beanstalk)

  3. Ghepetto's Folly (Pinocchio)

  4. Huff And Puff Did The Wolf In, While Todd Watched On. . . (3 Little Pigs)

  5. Feathers For Pain, Screams For Crimes (Rhime of the Ancient Mariner)

  6. Lament of a Lovelorn, Lost Siren (The Little Mermaid)

  7. Cascade of Shame (The Ugly Duckling)

  8. Bloody Bloody Tucker (The Boogeyman/Celtic Red Cap)

  9. The Unfortunate Circumference of Mr. Winifred P. Bear (Guest Writer- www.Direrain.deviantart.com)(Winnie the Pooh)

  10. Pursuit Of A Better High- Dawn Runner (Fae Hound/Werewolf)

  11. Old Widow Stanwick and Her Enterprising Pie Empire (There was an Old Woman Who Lived in a Shoe)

  12. Little Rock Of Horror (Stone Soup)

  13. Malice In Vunderland (Alice in Wonderland)

  14. And The Throw Fit Her Just So. . . (Goldilocks and the Three Bears)

  15. The Pain Of Wishing For Wings (Thumbellina)

  16. Reflections Of A Wretched Sol (Dedalus and Icarus)

  17. Long Black Train (The Little Engine That Could)

  18. You're My Favorite Obsession (Sleeping Beauty)

  19. Good Golly Miss Molly Muffet! (Little Miss Muffett)

  20. Tears for Drowning (StruwwelPeter tales Johnny Look-in-Air, and Thumbsucker)

  FAERYTALE

  NOIR

  Wolf With The Red

  Roses

  In this world there are some dark things lurking in the shadows, the darker corners. Cases that get buried down into the deepest oubliettes that society can create.

  In this world, things aren't always as they seem, Humans aren't always top dog so to speak. They're still bought and sold on occasion, but generally enough, they're the lesser species now. But enough about that, you should know all of this by now. . .

  In the end, these are the case files of things gone wrong, the ones buried down deep in the mires where they'd never see the light of day. But I like the look of you, so I'll share a few, for a price. . . This is what we like to call-

  Faerytale Noir.

  *~*~*~*

  I woke up with the taste of blood in my mouth again today. . .

  Oh God what have I done? What have I done?!?

  The still form of the lover I took to bed last night in a lusty haze lay next to me, a flurry of red roses cascading their lost petals around us as we went to bed, and now, their life's blood spilled freely from them, their chest still forever more. . .

  Why does this keep happening to me???

  I cry out wordlessly into the early morning dawn. I am broken, and I know not why. . . Time and again I have awoken to find the taste of blood in my mouth, and a still form lying near me, usually with red rose petals strewn about. It hasn't always been a lover, sometimes just a random encounter on the streets! God how could this have happened again?!? Will it ever end?

  There is only one way. . .

  I can hear the sirens wailing in the distance. I reach for it, knowing it is the only way I can end this cycle of pain. I put the gun below my chin, and swallow convulsively. I look upon their graying skin with the lividly bright bloom in such shockingly stark difference in its death compared to theirs, and stifle a sob. I apologize wordlessly to them begging forgiveness, hoping this makes it all right. I pull the trigger, and the world is vibrantly alive for a moment, and dims slowly before me.

  The police come as I am fading away, I can hear them speaking to one another. There is disgust in their tone. "Looks like another wolf with a human fetish. God, haven't we seen enough of this fad lately? Its constantly in the news for cripes sakes! Wolves and humans just don't mix! Fuckin' Red Riding Hood complexes. . . Makes my life a living hell, I'll tell you that much is for sure. And to think, the Mayor of the Wolverton City State had the secret fetish going on. Ha! The press will have a field day with this one! Come on Joe, lemme buy you a rabbit burger down at Sue's. Let the fools coming in after us deal with this political nightmare, we never saw a thing. . ."

  My fellow wolves had laughed at me. . . the ache was unbearable in my shame. Thankfully it was all over with. Thankfully it had all ended for me. The door closes, and I shut my eyes. But my mind idly focused on one thought as my world darkened. So they have a name for it after all, who knew?

  *~*~*~*~*

  I can remember the first time I first felt the illicit stirring in my loins for a beautiful auburn haired human girl. That seems to be the icing on the proverbial cake for me, the auburn hair spilling like wine across the white pillow cases. I was but a juvenile pup then, but when my father took me to the park that day; where humans were our paid playmates, I learned my secret truth.

  Her name, or so I was instructed by my father to call her, was Jeannie. Her dark auburn curls bounced about her shoulders and glowed in the afternoon light like an internal fire lit them from within. She wore a white sailor top, and blue shorts, and blue ribbons in her pigtails on either side of her head. She had a light smattering of freckles, as if the flames of her hair had left small sparks across her cheeks and nose from a careless head toss. Her creamy skin made me ache to lick it, to see if it tasted like the milk it resembled, or if her markings would burn my tongue ever so slightly with their pent up heat.

  My father chuckled at my obvious reaction, and told me, "Son, do what you will with her. Since you enjoy the look of this one so much, I shall buy her contract and bring her home for your own personal, private amusement. A chit like her, can't cost a fortune. Not if she's here and available to be damaged goods. . . Don't mind the musings of your old man, he's just barking at the moon like some fool dog to himself. Go, enjoy yourself. I know how you feel. If only your mother understood us better, eh?" Father chuckled and gave me the knowing manly wink and headed off to pay for the girl.

  She was quite well broken in on her training. When I asked her name, she informed me that most called her Jeannie, but since I was the master, I could call her what I wished. So, I considered it, and I called her Caerdinal. She was my little red bird, and looking back, I should never have called her something so delicate and easily broken as that. . .

  The first few weeks, I was able to fight off my. . . urges. We were nothing more than playmates, eager to have fun and explore, have adventures of all kinds. But then, we were caught in a rainstorm, and I took chill. My mother enforced strict bed rest for me for nearly a week while I recovered. She threatened to beat Caerdinal but I wouldn't allow it. It was my fault we were caught out in the rain so far from shelter. She had begged that we head back sooner, but I wouldn't hear of it! We were playing Pirates, and the game wasn't done yet.

  Now by this time, Caerdinal was starting to fill out into a curvier form, as humans inexplicably do at a certain age range. It caused soooo many nights of shame for me when I began to notice. Many times of hiding wet bedding so my mother never knew of my nightly fantasies. But while bed ridden, and after a particularly bad fight wit
h my mother. . . I didn't really hold her anger to heart. She was mad at my father's incessant affairs and long hours at work and took it out on me. But after reaming me out over some small slight blown out of proportion, Caerdinal curled up in the bed with me, to comfort and soothe me. It was innocent enough on her part, and a delightfully sinful event for me. She curled her warm little body against me, her hands wrapping into my fur and cuddling close, promises dripping like honey from her full lush lips that things will inevitably grow better for me, to just ride out the pain. . . That she was there for me, however I should need her. The soft glow in her dewy green tinted blue eyes, like a translucent pool of tropical water, combined with her tiny pearl like teeth biting down uncertainly as she offered herself so completely to me did me in like nothing else could. Had I not seen that gesture, I might have been able to fight off the urges and send her clear of my bed, of my cruelty. Her pulse alone was maddening enough and her soft earthy musk unique to her drove me on.

  I drew her closer, my paw reaching down behind her neck, pulling her lips closer to mine. As they met, the walls of careful restraint shattered into millions of tiny shards, shredding my soul into hundreds of millions of fragments. I pushed myself atop of her, had my way with her as I had imagined time and again as I lay trying to sleep so futilely for so long. Something came over me, I-I can't even begin to explain it, if you've never known it yourself then I doubt you could ever grasp the idea of it even slightly.

  I can't tell you what happened next, not truly for my mind is a blank about the incident. I believe it is a coping mechanism, to protect my delicate psyche. But I can tell you of the aftermath of it all. . .

  I came to myself, cradling her still form, her hair carefully cascading across my pillow, and it was a darker, more damp shade. . . as if it were--wet. The scent of freshly shaven copper and iron tantalized my nostrils. My stomach rumbled hungrily from the scent delicately teasing my nose with a sledgehammer effect. I heard my mother's piercing shriek finally penetrating the cottony din in my ears. She named me a monster and flew out of the room to call upon my father. She hurriedly packed a bag, and made ready to leave as soon as he arrived.

  My father arrived within a half hour, and I could hear their hushed arguing. But it didn't matter, for my mind focused on the horrific tableau in front of me, still clinging to my arms in some places. Caerdinal's throat was shredded and torn, the edges a ghastly mottled purple while the rest faded to a graying curdled milk. Her eyes no longer shone with an inner light all of their own, even her hair felt dull to my eyes. I felt sickened as I heard the blood crackle about my muzzle as I opened my yap to scream. I could still smell her beneath all the blood and I felt that stirring once more with horror and shame. . .

  I HAD DONE THIS! I had taken something I felt was so precious to me and ended her life on some horrific whim of need and instinct! The taste on my tongue. . . I could still taste her fear mingling with the salty copper of her blood still trapped in my teeth. I gagged and threw up. Bits of flesh fell free of my mouth, and I felt sickened even more.

  My father came into my room as I sat, sobbing hushed and curling into the fetal position as far away from the corpse as I could on my bed. He placed a comforting paw on my shoulder, and pulled me into a tight embrace. Viscera and flakes of blood clung to his good shirt, but he ignored it, I was his main priority. He shushed me and rocked me as I cried and tried to come to terms with what had occurred.

  He told me it was a natural thing that happened. That we were predators, and Humans were, well, prey. He couldn't begin to count the number of times he had taken a lover's life in the heat of passion. That he understood.

  I fell asleep, curled in his arms, exhausted and trying to cope. Perhaps, I thought, it was all a dream. . .

  When I woke, I found myself on a clean bed,fresh bedding of all kinds and new pajamas. My father sat by my bed in a chair, having nodded off watching over me as I slept. When I stirred, he woke with a jolt. He took my hand and allayed my concerns, covering all matters in their due time. My mother was sent to live in the countryside, far from anyone who could tell of what she knew. She had been unstable for some time, he told me confidentially. It was a lateral move for her, and well overdue in its need to be done in a timely fashion.

  Next, he had taken care of all the. . .necessary cleaning. He paused as if to find the right words to continue on there for a moment. Everything was disposed of in a proper manner. Even the scent was as sanitized as possible. There wasn't a single trace of her luscious scent anywhere left, and a part of me truly mourned its loss. And if anyone bothered to ask after Jeannie, which he highly doubted, then the matter was handled in a way that put the eyes elsewhere.

  He also assured me that this would most likely happen again. And that he would be my mentor in this trying time in my life. He told me to rest as much as I could, and when I woke, he would begin my tutelage.

  For many nights, my father taught me the finer points of the seduction, the hunt. I found that while I sought the ruby and garnet shades, he preferred the golden finches of the Human domain. I learned that the Raven haired beauties stirred my loins, but I was able to restrain myself from having a repeat of Caerdinal with them. Blondes seemed washed out to me, so if one came onto me, usually I turned them away, unless I could see a glimmer of rose or carmine in their tresses. Then, oh and then the nights were ones filled with passion. I tended to be rougher with the strawberry blondes, but saved the true violence for my flame haired fetish.

  My father was an expert on what these Human women wanted. Wine flowed freely, bouquets of roses handed out alongside candies, soft words with focused eyes staring at their faces and not their bodies, this was his approach, and this worked wonders. I fumbled to be as suave as he at first, but with time, I became just as smooth. Luckily, they found my ineptitude endearing at first, taking pity on the younger pup in me than I tried to present.

  I often wondered what my mother would think of me now, when I was in the smoky bars, surrounded by these gorgeous women. And then my mind would replay the last look she had given me, and I realized I didn't care what that bitch thought. My father was right about her. She never understood us. And never would ever lower herself to try. Anytime she came to mind, I would seek a red head and strong drink, and awaken with a double hangover of guilt.

  I often wondered though, how my father managed eye contact so absolute with the women he pursued. He told me there was a trick to it, using his peripheral vision.

  He assured me that he noticed their Venusian forms, always the elegant curved bodies drew his attention. Never skeletal, always fleshy without an overabundance of body, this was his favorite form. I found in that, I followed suit with his tastes as well. A fine turned form did me in almost as badly as a red haired beauty did. We went out together more nights than not, prowling to fill our empty beds, but never with the same girls twice. And rarely did we take them home. My father invested into a hotel, just for that purpose.

  He groomed me to follow in his footsteps and after my father stepped down from being head of his company, I took his place. For years I was merely a CEO, but at his urging, I went into politics. He taught me how to hide my indiscretions as he had for all those years for his own. I entered the local scene and fought for council seats, and eventually worked my way up to mayor under my father's guidance and influence. He had hopes I would rise even higher with time.

  He was proud of me and I showed restraint as much as possible. It worked well, for I was never caught. Not for nearly two decades. . . Not until now. . . I couldn't take the strain any longer. I called the police on myself after discovering what I had done yet again. Almost always the rose petals cover their forms. It's always the red heads that I find like this. Even in the alleyways, it was always them. In my mind, it was always my second chance to do things right by Caerdinal. But in the end, their scents were never right, the sighs, the gasps, even the pulse! It was never HER! And so, true to form, in a fit of anger, resentment, pain and guilt; I mad
e sure that they all went the same way she did.

  I knew I owed a massive penance, but I had only one life to give.

  So I did.

  It was why I finally sat down, pistol in my hand, and ended my torment even tolerating the humiliation I knew was coming from my fellow wolves. It didn't matter anymore, I was free.

  Free. . . How funny that word tastes on my tongue as I sit bound in the chains of my guilt and shame. . .

  And as the muzzle flashed, I saw all the lives I took, smiling maliciously at me until--. Until I saw my beloved red bird waiting for me, whole, her hand outstretched, beckoning me on. I finally could make it right. . . I could finally have my love in my arms one more time.

  Good night Wolverton, may the horrors that I have committed be forgiven one day. This, is my most fevered and desired wish. Even as the light faded from my eyes, my heart futilely pumping its last gasping spurt of blood in my death throes, I begged for forgiveness. I could smell my Caerdinal's scent and feel her soft touch once more as she whispered to me. My ears couldn't catch it, but it didn't matter to me, I was with my love once more. . .

  I prayed to the one I still loved most even after so many years-

  Mea Culpa.

  I apologize. . .

  Caerdinal--

  Jack Went Splat, And

  The Titans Are Back

  "Stupid useless cow! I've had enough of you costing me for feeding you, clothing you! You'll never marry, never bring a bride price! Where's your damned brother?!? Jackson! Jackson get your lazy ass in here now!"