A Ruin of Roses (Deliciously Dark Fairytales 1)

Some had attempted escape through the communal forests to the east and south of the village. That land technically belonged to the royal family, but it had been allocated for the use of the village. As a result, it had not been directly cursed, like the Forbidden Wood, and no everlass grew there.

Regardless, a group of villagers had set out to leave that way. From what I understood, they made it a certain distance before they could go no farther. The air crystalized before them, scorching those who tried to push past it. Killing those who continued through the pain.

After that, the survivors—desperate, enraged, and frightened—set out for the castle. They carried pitchforks and bows, spears and torches, intent on demanding their freedom.

Not one of them returned.

That very evening, the demon king appeared in the village square. He announced that if anyone set foot in the Forbidden Wood, they would be punished. Steal, and they’d be hanged. Just like in the days of old.

He remained true to his word, or so people said. It was unclear if people were punished, hanged, or eaten by the beast or one of the other creatures, but in those early days, anyone who ventured in never came back.

We were trapped in this lost and forsaken place, shifters unable to shift. Unable to even feel the animals inside of us. Magic mostly kept beyond our fingertips.

It wasn’t as bad for people like me, since I’d never known my animal and didn’t remember much from the old days. I’d never known the primal power and strength and extra abilities that came with shifting. Someone older and more experienced was supposed to guide a young shifter through the change on the first full moon after their sixteenth birthday, but our powers had been suppressed long before my coming of age. I didn’t know what I was missing.

For our elders, it was such a grievous loss that they wouldn’t talk about it anymore. At all. I didn’t know who used to turn into what animal. I didn’t know details of a shifter’s life, or what it felt like to change. I didn’t know much of anything about what I was supposed to be.

I had learned one thing: a demon’s offers always had strings attached. Their sugarcoated words had a sour aftertaste. Whatever deal our mad king had been trying to make, the one he’d eventually accepted damned us all. In suppressing our animals, the demons had also suppressed our ability to heal quickly. Our strength. Our fighting prowess. They’d cut us off at the knees. The nobility had tried to resist after the mad king’s death, but they were cut down. Most of the army went next. Without their ability to shift, they were easy prey. Almost overnight, the kingdom was an island, all six villages and the castle at the center cut off from the outside world and at the mercy of the demons. What a wonderful life.

I remembered the onslaught of emotions I’d felt back then. The horror, anger, sadness, and desperation, but I was young. I learned how to adapt. I learned purpose. A purpose I still felt. A fight I would not give up until the day I died.

This would be my life until I went out screaming. And if people would just leave me alone, I could get on with it.

“Hello, Phyl,” I said as the blacksmith walked toward me with a large hammer in his massive hand. He was the only man in the village who had never batted an eye about my love of sharp things.

He nodded with a smile, showing a large gap between his front teeth. “Well, hello, Finley. Lovely day, isn’t it?”

“Very nice,” I said, heading for the village center.

Devious Rita grinned at me from over the wooden counter in the tomato stall. “Well, hello, Miss Finley. Bed any demons lately? I hear the demon king likes virgins in particular.”

“Oh yeah? Dang. I’m not a virgin. Unless assholes count?”

She laughed and packed up a few tomatoes and some lettuce. “Probably. Did I tell you? I saw Patsy Baker getting spit-roasted the other evening. That’s when one is taking her from the rear, and one is taking her from the front.”

Devious Rita liked to make the young people blush. She had a field day with Hannon. I was much harder to rile up, but I appreciated her efforts. It was another side effect of being trapped here—some people had just gotten…weird. I’d learned to just roll with it.

“That right? Was she having a nice time?”

“Until she was squirted in the eye. That’s when—”

“I know what that means, yeah. No need to elaborate.”

“I heard the demon king snuck into little Dalia Foster’s room the other night and plucked her cherry. She’s expecting his child.”

“Gross. I hate that expression.”

Her grin was wicked.