“Elizabeth, you look radiant. Welcome to the Menton,” he said. The chef bowed to the pair and returned to the kitchen. Elizabeth greeted James in kind and sat down across from him at the table. She looked around for a menu but found none. “It’s not that kind of place, I’m afraid,” said Mr. O’Donnell, ...

Over a week had passed since the shooting. Elizabeth spent most of her recovery in her room hanging out with Jules. She had to avoid screens for the first few days, so they would sit and listen to podcasts instead of watching anything. Her parents had visited the weekend before, which was nice but also ...

Sam’s heart was light even as nature gathered itself for one final inconvenience in a morning mauled by them. His dog appeared to be on the mend, and he’d found his way back. Everything else was like a dream. A fantastical dream. An unbelievable dream… His step hitched. No one will believe it. He’d been ...

He was an unimposing, but very interesting figure. “My name is James O’Donnell. I wanted to come in person to express gratitude for interposing last night and make sure you’re okay.” “I should be thanking you,” Elizabeth said. “You had everything handled and saved me after I tried to play hero.” “Yet I doubt you ...

“Lizzie?” She realized she’d zoned out of the conversation while her parents were play-fighting. Jules was looking at her, concerned. “Sorry, my head hurts, but I’m okay.” She gave a loose synopsis of the situation, about the old man and the two gunmen. She minimized how close she came to dying from the gun pointed ...

Elizabeth didn’t sleep well. She woke every few hours, either to some noise or because she was uncomfortable. She dreamt of the old man and the ring, a different dream every time she fell asleep. They were in the diner, but it was only the two of them in there. She sat on the ground ...

Across from her, stuck to the bar, was a fragment of bone, glued to the surface by a glob of viscera. It made Elizabeth queasy, but somehow her intense focus on it prevented her from throwing up. The white shard eventually fell. No one noticed but her. The old man snatched the discarded weapons and ...

Pastor Morgan Williams placed his hat and umbrella on the bench that lined the wall of the police observation room. “Why call me, of all people? I’ve read the papers. The girl is guilty.” Police Chief Ezra Smoles tugged on the woolen collar of his uniform as the fabric scratched against his skin. “There might ...

“Where is Jack Kelly? I know he’s here.” If the man with the gun hadn’t yelled, Elizabeth wouldn’t have heard him; her ears were still ringing. His gravelly voice managed to break her trance on the weapon he held.  He was wearing a black hoodie with a ski mask, burgundy gloves, black track pants, and ...

Disclaimer: This is a work of fanfiction. It is an adaptation inspired by the fairy tales owned by the Grimm Brothers, Jacob and Wilhelm. This story is not associated with Disney’s adaptations, their added characters, or story elements. Princess. The word cuts deeper than it should. It sneers at the bastard I am, the misfit ...