Zombie Kids Books : Blood Red (from Snow White) - Fables of the Undead ( zombie books fiction,zombie books for kids,zombie books for kids) (zombie books for kids - Fables of the Undead Book 3) by Dina T Seth Page B
Authors: Dina T Seth
Tags: snow white, blood red
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TONIGHT:
In the Deep Forest there is a clearing. On nights like this, when the moonlight drifts down upon the treetops, the pale lunar glow settles into the clearing and seems to touch every blade of grass, every fallen leaf, every sleeping bird and crawling insect.
The animals of the forest have always been attracted to Snow White. She had such an innocence, such purity. They were not afraid of her, nor could they bear to see any harm come to her. They had tried to warn her of the old woman with the apple – the Witch Queen in disguise – but to no avail.
Snow White is dead, and the animals mourn.
But for some reason there are few animals in the clearing where Snow White’s gold-and-glass coffin is displayed. Perhaps something keeps them away. Only a lone deer is present tonight, its doe-eyes large and brown under the moonlight, and the freckles on its back like silvery stars embedded in its fur.
It loved Snow White deeply when she was alive, and so it does not flee when the glass coffin cracks. It thinks that the lovely girl has returned to life somehow, and prances over to the pale, slender arm that rises from amidst the shattered canopy of the glass coffin.
The girl that had been Snow White reaches out for the deer. The deer comes closer, unknowingly innocent. Snow White tears out its throat with her teeth.
CHAPTER TWO: SOME OF SEVEN DEATHS
In which an undead princess is awakened to her new, ungodly appetites; and the little men fight for their lives.
Hawthawn is one of two brothers. He and Sorfius are twins, born within seconds of each other. But, like the other five men who live in the cottage, they were born deformed: barely four feet tall, stocky, with large hands and boxlike faces. Cast out of the white city of Everedge, over which the Queen’s black castle looms like a stone trident, he and the other little men eventually came to terms with the bigotry of Everedge’s citizens and learned to be happy together in the Deep Forest.
Hawthawn always denies it, but the others think of him as their saviour. It was Hawthawn, eternally happy, who saw the silver lining in their situation and turned their moods around. Well, all but Griff, who is the grouchiest of the lot and will probably never change. But still, the seven men love one another like brothers, the result of their adversity. Hawthawn wouldn’t have it any other way.
But then came Snow White. She had tricked the guardsman into letting her go, but she had become lost and the dark forest had nearly frightened her to death. With nowhere else for her to go, Hawthawn had persuaded the others to adopt her as their caretaker. It was wonderful to have a woman around the house, after all.
Hawthawn has just come back from dropping off today’s bounty. They have all worked hard in the mine, except for Sorfius, who has been so down with grief that he couldn’t bear to climb out of bed in this morning. Snow White’s death has crippled them all, and it will just take Sorfius a little longer than it would everyone else. He’s always been a drowsy one, slow on the uptake. Hawthawn won’t be surprised if he finds Sorfius still in bed, asleep.
Lo and behold, there Sorfius is now: snoring away in front of the cottage, slumped against the wall with his chin on his chest. Perhaps he’s dreaming of the girl, thinks Hawthawn. He’s dreamt of her two nights in a row.
“Sorfius!” he bellows, switching his pickax to his other hand. “Sorfius – or should I call you Snore-fius? Wake up, brother!”
Sorfius doesn’t move. Hawthawn approaches in the darkness. Something doesn’t feel right. Sorfius’ chest isn’t rising and falling in his sleep. And besides, it’s a funny place to take a nap…
Then Hawthawn sees the dark black stain spread down his brother’s chest. The red smears on his face and hands. The gaping black gash across his neck. The way he’s folded
TONIGHT:
In the Deep Forest there is a clearing. On nights like this, when the moonlight drifts down upon the treetops, the pale lunar glow settles into the clearing and seems to touch every blade of grass, every fallen leaf, every sleeping bird and crawling insect.
The animals of the forest have always been attracted to Snow White. She had such an innocence, such purity. They were not afraid of her, nor could they bear to see any harm come to her. They had tried to warn her of the old woman with the apple – the Witch Queen in disguise – but to no avail.
Snow White is dead, and the animals mourn.
But for some reason there are few animals in the clearing where Snow White’s gold-and-glass coffin is displayed. Perhaps something keeps them away. Only a lone deer is present tonight, its doe-eyes large and brown under the moonlight, and the freckles on its back like silvery stars embedded in its fur.
It loved Snow White deeply when she was alive, and so it does not flee when the glass coffin cracks. It thinks that the lovely girl has returned to life somehow, and prances over to the pale, slender arm that rises from amidst the shattered canopy of the glass coffin.
The girl that had been Snow White reaches out for the deer. The deer comes closer, unknowingly innocent. Snow White tears out its throat with her teeth.
CHAPTER TWO: SOME OF SEVEN DEATHS
In which an undead princess is awakened to her new, ungodly appetites; and the little men fight for their lives.
Hawthawn is one of two brothers. He and Sorfius are twins, born within seconds of each other. But, like the other five men who live in the cottage, they were born deformed: barely four feet tall, stocky, with large hands and boxlike faces. Cast out of the white city of Everedge, over which the Queen’s black castle looms like a stone trident, he and the other little men eventually came to terms with the bigotry of Everedge’s citizens and learned to be happy together in the Deep Forest.
Hawthawn always denies it, but the others think of him as their saviour. It was Hawthawn, eternally happy, who saw the silver lining in their situation and turned their moods around. Well, all but Griff, who is the grouchiest of the lot and will probably never change. But still, the seven men love one another like brothers, the result of their adversity. Hawthawn wouldn’t have it any other way.
But then came Snow White. She had tricked the guardsman into letting her go, but she had become lost and the dark forest had nearly frightened her to death. With nowhere else for her to go, Hawthawn had persuaded the others to adopt her as their caretaker. It was wonderful to have a woman around the house, after all.
Hawthawn has just come back from dropping off today’s bounty. They have all worked hard in the mine, except for Sorfius, who has been so down with grief that he couldn’t bear to climb out of bed in this morning. Snow White’s death has crippled them all, and it will just take Sorfius a little longer than it would everyone else. He’s always been a drowsy one, slow on the uptake. Hawthawn won’t be surprised if he finds Sorfius still in bed, asleep.
Lo and behold, there Sorfius is now: snoring away in front of the cottage, slumped against the wall with his chin on his chest. Perhaps he’s dreaming of the girl, thinks Hawthawn. He’s dreamt of her two nights in a row.
“Sorfius!” he bellows, switching his pickax to his other hand. “Sorfius – or should I call you Snore-fius? Wake up, brother!”
Sorfius doesn’t move. Hawthawn approaches in the darkness. Something doesn’t feel right. Sorfius’ chest isn’t rising and falling in his sleep. And besides, it’s a funny place to take a nap…
Then Hawthawn sees the dark black stain spread down his brother’s chest. The red smears on his face and hands. The gaping black gash across his neck. The way he’s folded
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