Excerpt - UNEDITTED
Chapter 1 - Grandmother Carelle
Stephanie Caldwell woke up in pain. She tried to move, but her arms and legs were restrained. Looking around, she saw bright spotlights shining down on her and noticed she was in a velvet bed with glass walls around her. Was she in a hospital? Had she gotten into a car accident? She arched her back with the next pain and looked down at her abdomen and almost screamed. Not only was she naked, but her belly had swollen to an enormous size . . . and something was moving.
She let out a cry this time as more pain rushed through her as she looked around again for answers, for help. Her last memory was driving in her car on the way to work. Traffic had come to a dead stop and she smashed her hand against the horn in frustration. She was going to be late again. Another strike against her performance would give the company grounds for her dismissal. She was already on probation.
Now, she didn't know where she was. A hospital maybe. Had she had an accident? She had heard of parts of people's bodies swelling up from accidents. She had seen things like that on the Health Channel.
Looking at her wrists, she found thick golden cords of rope wrapped around them and more were wrapped on her ankles, keeping her legs spread apart. The restraints looked nothing like what doctors would use in a hospital. And where were the doctors? The nurses? Outside of the pool of light was only darkness.
"What's going on?" She said to herself and then more out loud. "What's going on?"
She heard something then, and saw forms moving towards her in the darkness. As they came into the light, she saw that they were women, dozens of women, yet as her eyes adjusted she saw even more figures in the darkness. Hundreds. They were clothed in long red hooded cloaks with their midriff exposed displaying black symbols. They stood at different heights; in fact Stephanie could have sworn some were children, each having a mark dissimilar to each other. No. Some of the marks were the same. The symbols meant nothing to Stephanie, yet the red cloaks, the shielded faces and all of them staring down at her from a circle, reminded her of some sort of satanic horror flick. But that was ridiculous. Demons didn't exist, but yet there was her belly.
She screamed again pulling at the restraints on her arms, and swearing out loud.
"What have you done to me?" she demanded. "What's going on?"
The women remained silent but behind them music began to play. It was playful, a jolly kind of tone, with a ¾ tempo. A waltz.
These people were sick. Even more than that, they put something in her and were waiting for it to come out.
"You're not going to get away with this?" she screamed at them. "You're not going to get away with this!"
They remained motionless, their hooded faces waiting for whatever it was to be born.
Stephanie screamed again and felt the urge to push. She had never been pregnant in her life, had never even considered going through the wonderful joys of birthing pains, yet now here she was, her body automatically reacting to what it must do.
She pushed.
As she felt the thing partially come out of her body, the hooded women came closer. Another push and it was over. Stephanie fell back exhausted, dizzy and sick. Then she heard the cries of a newborn.
One of the women took the infant and Stephanie heard the splashing of water. She tried to say something but then began to feel very numb and tremble uncontrollably.
"Isn't she beautiful?" a voice whispered.
"Beautiful like we were?" a little girl's voice asked, holding the hands of two other children who bore similar symbols on their bellies as she.
"Even more so," the voice answered, "since she is the last."
Another child clapped her hands gleefully. "Will we finally be able to go to the ball?"
"Not yet," a more mature woman said. "Not until she has reached her eighteenth year, then we will all be with our princes and attend the ball."
Hooded faces all looked at the newborn taking turns to allow the much younger to see.
"What's wrong with her?" one of them asked and pointed to the glass bed.
There was a bit of silence and the mature voice answered, "She is going into an endless sleep."
"Asleep like our princes?"
"No, that's a different type of sleep. This kind of sleep is one that can not be awakened by a kiss."
"She will sleep like the one who birth me," another voice said much older than the questioning one.
"Yes, like you."
"And like me," a second voice said."
"Yes, like you too."
"And me," and third voice said.
"Yes, you as well."
"And you are the lucky ones, for you do not have to see the daily tearful eyes of your mother."
"Or hateful eyes," a voice from the darkness said.
"Or pitying eyes," another said.
"Or longing eyes."
"Though we look like them," the woman continued, "we are not like they are, for they are Human and we are Cinders."
With those final words, Stephanie Caldwell went into her deep sleep.
Table of Contents
Prologue
Chapter 1 Rose
Chapter 2 Abandoned City
Chapter 3 Twin Domes
Chapter 4 History
Chapter 5 Fairy Tales
Chapter 6 Wells and Tower
Chapter 7 Seven Dwarves
Chapter 8 Spindles and Princesses
Chapter 9 Prenzes
Chapter 10 Mirror, Mirror
Chapter 11 Waltz and Balls
Epilogue
Lina
Aurora-Astir
