Books About Twisted Fairy Tales Novels & Stories

I endured my dad's punches and kicks as my mind drifted to my previous life. It had been the same back then. When Estel poisoned me, I had begged our parents to take me to the hospital. However, they locked me up instead. They watched coldly as I slowly lost my life. I could never understand why, even though I was their daughter too, they always favored Estel. We were twins, yet Estel got new clothes and attended good schools, while I wore hand-me-downs and worked tirelessly for her.

“You don’t?” “We don’t live together.” Isabella laughed — a little too loud. “Oh my God, I hope not. That would be weird. You’re his stepsister.” Ainara’s eyes narrowed. Isabella leaned in, voice playful. “You know, there are so many pornos about that trope. Stepsister, stepbrother. It’s a whole genre.” Ainara didn’t flinch. Instead, she smiled sweetly. “Do you watch those kinds of p**n, Isabella?”

So often I felt like I was walking around in a fog, waiting to start living. Until Arthur, that is. He makes me feel like I’m really alive, like I’ve fallen into one of those stories. The problem is, not all fairytales have happy endings. In fact, most of the early tales were quite gruesome morality tales designed to warn and scare. They were never meant to be a guide for how to live your life. I take a sharp right turn down a long corridor of books. I know my way by heart and soon find my favorite bench, near a window, with all my favorite books. Today didn’t feel like a fairy tale day. I feel like fantasy has failed me.

Cautiously she picked the book up, ‘Rules For Immortals’ She read out loud and sat in the chair opening the first page she began to read and was soon engrossed. In the shadows her Mother watched her eyes soft with love, ‘With eighteen years Your time is come Enchantress rise Thy powers hard won Girl to woman Memories held deep The locket will open No tears to weep The spell now broken All locks are open Find your Beast Beauty Love’s kiss your only duty’

“The Snow-Child?” “Well, it directly translates to Snow Maiden but yes. It was one of the stories she used to tell us as children. Usually if we couldn’t sleep.” “Is it good?” I hummed. “Yes. I mean, it’s better than most Russian tales. It is bittersweet though.” “Russian folklore is fascinating but it is really kind of messed up.” Chuckling, I stood up and shook my head. “You’re not wrong but most older folklore is. It was meant to evoke a level of fear, or understanding, or sympathy, or wariness to children. That usually meant it needed to really hammer home the point.”

“I like oral stories.” She rolls her eyes at me, “Then read out loud.” She drifts off toward the fantasy section. I linger at a table labeled Local Authors. One title catches my eye. The Wolf at the Gate: Raventon’s Hidden Histories. I pick it up and flip through the pages. It’s all wrong, of course. Half the lore is twisted nonsense. But it’s also fascinating. Reading what humans think they know. What they’ve guessed at and what they’ve made up to explain what they can’t see.

I explained to her seriously. "What are you talking about, Bethany?" Her eyes turned sharp, giving me a dark stare. "Princess Rafaella, have you by any chance heard about your betrothed Prince talking about his royal family? Misleading you isn't my intention but you should have known a little about how his family does or what his family appears to be. The Southern Hemisphere was ruled by the Kingdom of Euratus which oddly defines shifting creatures closely in the book of history in another dimension. Not that I totally presumed it to be but the sorceress in that kingdom once required a word from me." I merely got done with my words when her head snapped and her eyes widened in shock looking

I even added a love diagram on top of it. I threw the book on the ground as I sighed. I feel like I am going insane. I thought about tomorrow and I can't help but think of them watching the fireworks as they kiss passionately. They are even walking down the pathway of the night street as they hold hands. Oh God! I am insane. Insane or not, I need to stop them from going tomorrow and it's all because I know Hilary is a witch, that's all. I have a long nose right now.

Oddities, Curiosities and Undefinable Wonders, edited by Doug Murano Twice Upon an Apocalypse: Lovecraftian Fairy Tales, edited by Rachel Kenley and Scott T. Goudsward Tales from The Lake Vol.3, edited by Monique Snyman Gutted: Beautiful Horror Stories, edited by Doug Murano and D. Alexander Ward Tales from The Lake Vol.2, edited by Joe Mynhardt, Emma Audsley, and RJ Cavender Children of the Grave The Outsiders Tales from The Lake Vol.1, edited by Joe Mynhardt

Hansel and Gretel, except in this one, the witch didn’t perish in the oven. Instead, she turned the children into crows and fed them to her wolves. I flipped to the end, my heartbeat pounding. Every single tale was warped. Twisted. Happy endings devoured by shadows. I stared at the shelf, horror blooming inside me. Dozens of books, all telling the same message: Good will always lose. “Xareth,” I whispered aloud. That monster. That evening, I took my dinner plate and found Zevarion near the garden. I shared my food with him and told him what I’d discovered. His laughter came like a breeze in spring, light, sweet, and momentarily soothing.