Chapter 1
An expensive private eye and escape artist I am, such I proudly decree. Word to the unwise: if you are good, better yet excellent at a certain trade, no matter how virtuous or generous you are perceived, it would be madness to do it for free.
A letter was sent to me from the land of Sweden, the domain of clean lungs and inconsiderate heathens. So Chester and I, up and away we go, the majesty the stars barely light the path for the carriage, but expose the faux innocence of the snow.
This world is not what I wished it to be, but that is too unfortunate for me. To the heavens I propose a satirical toast, for I have heard legends wrongly boasted, you are welcome to join me if it pleases thee. We think to the shoulders of Everest of mysterious men, and feel quite obliged to be intrigued and overlook their eyes of evil and disturbing seriousness.
I don’t want a hero, nor to be one, though this is a common want; for such boisterous serpents they save us and in their compliments they flaunt. Who really drank the porridge, and who gave Cindy those slippers? If Redd really thought grand nanny developed canine teeth in her illness on the bed, she is undoubtedly a fool; crème of the crop of jokers.
Whoever told those stories was lying, so wrongly told, that had I been a child I would have thrown a fit and succumbed to crying. I am from the land of coal and tea, and I know the true tall to these tales (which were actually short), accounts of disgust and downright misery.
My mother is Italian and my late father was an English pirate; I seek an adventure like a hunt and I am fairly easy to irate. My misfortune has cost me the left eye and my knack for preposterous thrills my soul.
Whatever your opinion of me is, I am sure it is quite low, otherwise you perhaps admire awkward and suspenseful catastrophe.
We arrived successfully at the destination of the so-called “Three Little Pigs.” I was later fill with regret of my stay at the house of Mr. Ludwig Hannibal, who in his letter I never once retrieved the slightest clue that his residence hid some of the world’s most heartless cannibals. We had only arrived for dinner. For the journey was long. My mind was weary and my eyes were drained of tears; we longed to slumber to the requiem of a nightingale’s song.
Hannibal being in a pleasant mood, urged me to acquaint with this brothers, who seemingly thought of nothing lest it be affiliated with food.
I first met him on a trip to London. I told him my profession and before he took his leave, asked me with good manners where my manor was to send me a letter from the land of Sweden.
I first met him on a trip to London. I told him my profession and before he took his leave, asked me with good manners where my manor was to send me a letter from the land of Sweden.
He seemed eager to hire me, and this dastardly component I had known; this bastard did not tell me that he was not alone. A spouse I certainly wouldn’t mind, but not two other brothers identical to his nature, whose brains are nothing short of stout of the hind. He was the eldest of the three, and in an encounter you would not think much of him, he was rotund but fairly handsome, and he worshipped at the altar of the god of whim.
The second born seemed to be a drunk, and the third seemed to be from sanity afar—as he eyed and glanced back and forth at me…the avatar of paranoia; it seems conflict was by what they were begat; quarrel was their constant companion and tetchiness their lot.
The night was quiet as the grave of the good young. Chester and I, sent to the attic we were given our beds, our throats were partly parched, and our bellies were pathetically fed.
Chester had heard whispers of the brothers in the corridors; what possible subject was so appropriate this late at night? The place smelled rancid and our beds felt light. Left to a peace of mind I began to reminisce.
Shortly I recalled that we arrived here not just for pleasure but mainly for business. I proceeded to politely confront Ludwig and his reason inviting me here, but he kept adjourning, urging me to find myself in the arms of dreams, he said, “my dear, we shall definitely talk dealings in the morning.”
Chester barked and growled, and I hastily attended this matter. We found a human head in a jar of dirty water behind some crates. Realizing and feeling quite distressed, I no longer understood why I was invited here. Mr. Hannibal knocked, but it failed to be Ludwig, for it was Cornelius, the last born, who came to acquaintance. He asked, “Is everything fine sir, do you feel comfortable in these walls?”
Not liking the look in his eyes, I answered after I stalled, “I feel as warm and secure as a bear in its coat. Where may I relieve when nature calls?”
"Downstairs, fourth door to your right, go if you must, but take not too long, for there are four of us.”
I walked with Chester to the door instructed, and found nothing but a hollow room and next thing you know the floor deducted. We fell into a chamber, Chester and I, but we were not alone as I drew a sigh. I looked to the walls painted with scratch marks and the memories of dead men; this place was cruel. I wish I could record this scene with paper and pen, that history herself may judge these fools.
I deliberated to adopt a clever scheme because breathing beyond this prison was a future endeavor. I drew a deep breath and looked to Chester, who was licking the wounds of a shackled acquaintance half-starved to death. I huffed and I puffed, shouting to the ceilings and to the three hogs of brothers whenever and wherever they may hear, ever regretting arriving at this town, decreed loudly, “I WILL BURN YOUR HOUSE DOWN.”
Hours later, my mind woozy from this horrific confinement, I forced myself to be acquainted with the fellow captive. I had asked how he ended up here; he said he was taking a leisurely stroll in the woods and that’s all he fears he remembered. “I shall die a miserable death,” said he half-starved to death, “these walls are where I draw my last breath. I love to hear tales and since I am nearly done, if you know of any tales before my departure to the blue bayou, please tell me one.”
And I replied, “Then Sir, I shall inform of an ill-at-ease girl with slippers of fur. Hope you find an interest to this story, to which editions have been told, all which indubitably err.”
And I, Corderro Cunningham, of my witty temperament with a memory like wet dreams I had the night earlier, told of this tale and told of it the merrier: Her name was Cindy Arielle Keller, but you may know her in legends wrongly to be known as Cindarella. Her stepmother, who was my cousin, hired me to investigate her stepdaughter; who was dubiously active at night and seldom wished to emerge into the brilliant of broad daylight.
She dwelled near dazzling woods acquainted by the waters. The beauty, the romance!! Be bolted not from the blue if men shall come here to make their sons and daughters. The house was splendid and cold, but warm was my welcome; seeing my cousin and her daughters but Cindy ever seldom. She was sent to go and find leisure with Mother Nature so I could maneuver through her room, so I could rummage through panties and bras.
I found nothing, reckoning that she detected I may be a private eye, and wager 50 pounds that her room earlier of all traces had she disinfected.
So for 3 nights I stayed in my own private chamber, as I secretly discovered not just once but twice, of a crazy brunette who believe she was one with the birds and the mice. What if displeased at her rickety state? Would she give the former some rice or the latter some poison-filled cheese?
So for 3 nights I stayed in my own private chamber, as I secretly discovered not just once but twice, of a crazy brunette who believe she was one with the birds and the mice. What if displeased at her rickety state? Would she give the former some rice or the latter some poison-filled cheese?
Time and time again I peek through the keyhole of her door; she sways gracefully. She speaks to thin air and I hear her time again mentioned the words, “fairy godmother.” She seemed very enthusiastic, but I saw her alone. Perhaps she possesses an aptitude to see the paranormal, for I failed to see another person near her. And on that night, she crawled out of her window and I wager she looked to cause mischief. I tailed her as she lingered through the darkness; for I wagered she developed sticky fingers and into some wealthy family’s home she intruded.
I remember a pile of letters I once saw as irrelevant, saw beneath her bed. I rapidly returned to discover the method behind her madness; these grounds where dear cousin Matilda feared to tread. I read until she returned to her room empty-handed, leaving me puzzled as her hollow soul alone gave me the sure notion that out of her room she wished me disbanded.
I walked out aghast at my discoveries and very disappointed in her, that poor and misunderstood girl, Cindy Arielle Keller.
The third day, a letter I wrongly expected to be of strife held an important call—a wealthy nobleman sought a wife and on that night, every woman who was single was invited to the ball. It is an occasion that occurs once in a while.
The third day, a letter I wrongly expected to be of strife held an important call—a wealthy nobleman sought a wife and on that night, every woman who was single was invited to the ball. It is an occasion that occurs once in a while.
Cindy was ridden with the desire to know why she was forbidden to go. For all her life she has planned for opportunities to such occasions attend. It was there that I realized, her obsession with royalty was more than a mere disturbing trend. In a fit of disappointment she returned to her room, and when she shut the door, I knew that night that someone was doomed.
The night earlier that I departed from her, I had investigated her plots, for it made no sense for her to return home without a single commodity. I searched through my cousin’s estate and property; something felt dubious. I found tire tracks near the forest, of which I was quite curious.
I found an abandoned carriage and in it a pair of comfortable and expensive slippers, with a white dress stained by a spot of blood. This is a loose cannon, I realized. I deduced what she fixed to do; she was grittier to reach the noble’s estate more than a desperado inspired to stage a coup.
Her late father’s name was Gordy, and her late mother’s was Tess.
Her late father’s name was Gordy, and her late mother’s was Tess.
The latter fed her fantasies that morphed into delusions that she was destined to be a princess. And her pessimist father, who stopped at nothing to snap his little one out of her dream, by cyanide was close to someone writing his requiem. And when her mother discovered the devious plot to kill Gordy and her baby to not be in the right, she mysteriously passed away in her sleep under the full moon; father was away on business that night.
Months later Gordy remarried; a woman homely-looking—my cousin. She carried his emotional burdens, and he admired her cooking. The two stepsisters were none superior in countenance than their mother, and their peculiar habits you have no choice but to mind; one consumed her boogars which was quite nasty, and the other drank too much tea and her teeth did not portray for her too kind.
The latter ate too much sugar and her smile proved ghastly, and the former was noisy and looked handicapped—her eyes seemed intertwined.
Gordy passed ten winters later, leaving behind an angry and vengeful young lady, who sought no more reason to live but to close her door to this peak and valley world. She still believed that someday she would be of destined royalty. So tightly to this fantasy she held and believed, and out of this progressing madness and longing for a guardian, I infer that the godmother fairy was conceived.
She had no friends, and her sisters being envious of her splendor aren’t nice to her now and neither then, which I estimate why she was of mice and not of men.
On the last night of my visit, the full moon struck. The family left for the ball, but I insisted that just as Cindy was, to the manor I prefer to be bound. But my lack of rest during that time caused sleep to hound my eyes as I realized shortly, Cindy was nowhere to be found. I saw pieces of a pearl necklace on her floor and remnants of other things shining; knowing that this demon was godly groomed.
My carriage was gone, and I deduced the ball was gravely doomed.
So away we go, Chester and I, for after this child I insisted, my chest on fire, my feet blistered. Within an hour I reached the manor at midnight and could not find my family as I saw many rich and poor; only a few of which possess manners.
After much interrogation of the attendants, I looked upon them with much disdain. But if I was right, then from this event Cindy had refrained. Where else could she be? And to my best guess was the grave of the two people she had ever known. Off to the cemetery I was intended; to find this varmint who had caused silent grief to be in grief herself would give me much relief.
She knew I had arrived and we began to exchange words, hoping I could cure her of this mange in her mind. She had fixed to abduct my family and to the sisters she was not so kind, for the injuries inflicted upon them were in thoughtless construct.
“Godmother told me that to inherit my fortune, this trio must be in lay of their eternal beds.”
“You rascal,” I replied, “Godmother only exists in your head.”
“You rascal,” I replied, “Godmother only exists in your head.”
“It is not good for you to be here, for godmother is displeased at your presence in our midst, and now desires you dead.”
Too many chills over the nights had given this seventeen year old girl iced water in her veins. She did not regard shrieks, nor flinch at pain. I reached to grab her and she countered, subdued my arm and put me on the ground, and onto my back he mounted. Chester in secret untied the family behind Cindy’s back, but I wager the fairy godmother would not see to that and rendered the nut now cracked of its plans.
I saved Chester from Cindy’s grip and saved one of my cousins from the twist of a neck; the struggle was ongoing. She was surprisingly strong, but seeing that she could not win against me, in the blink of an eye she was gone. I pursued her until we came to a cessation by a cliff. For a moment she was stiff as a leap over the precipice was my predication.
Before she departed into infinite and beyond, she spoke to me of an abomination and she spoke of it in much pain.
“My father caused me great trauma for his own selfish and despicable gain. Hear advice and heed it, do not always look in someone’s madness, but try to understand their method; my father many times confiscated my virginity to feed his selfish sexual needs.”
“Not to say you deserve all this,” said I hardly saddened, “but had you not killed your own dear mother none of this would have happened.”
“Who said mother passed before these unfortunate events? The true reason that father became an acolyte of the devil was that mother seldom spent time with him. Mother ignored as I cried and allowed him to take away my glee.
We decided she must go and that’s when my godmother assisted me. Where I am going now godmother says I will no longer be somber, as I find unadulterated rest in my eternal slumber.”
She leaped to her death and to exist now ceases. Perhaps God will forgive her; may she rest in peace in her pieces. I gave a report to the court and the story was confirmed but now susceptible to be tainted, I swear if hear another edition of a woman in glass slippers, I shall throw a tantrum and faint.
She leaped to her death and to exist now ceases. Perhaps God will forgive her; may she rest in peace in her pieces. I gave a report to the court and the story was confirmed but now susceptible to be tainted, I swear if hear another edition of a woman in glass slippers, I shall throw a tantrum and faint.
I concluded the story to the man half-starved to death, as we returned to the dungeon. I knew he would be consumed soon; for the three ogres he would make a scrumptious luncheon. For the brothers would deprive you and render you weak to submit your soul to bleak.
You would be shackled thereafter and be fed for three days as much as you can, only to be dissected and dismembered and thrown on the fourth day into a spacious frying pan. But Chester saw through the weak walls a penetrable hole (that tells me someone tried to escape) and would go out and bring me half-salivated food, tasty nutrition he obviously stole.
Minutes later he half-starved to death was no more in my sight. Whatever I did to deserve this I do not know, for if there is a God why must things be such as so? My mother when I was young told me to not be so good or I will soon die.
And if the good die young, I reckon this is what happens to them at a ripe old age, when death before forgot his commitment, and once passed them by.
But after a couple of days, I was rendered ready to be a meal and a ladder was put down to reel me up. As a great tactician I had staged myself lifeless and commanded Chester to be gone as my breathless body was more than meets the eye.
On this night, I will huff and then I will puff and stage a court; for I will be judge, jury, and executioner. These three little pigs of brothers will cry bitterly and they shall bitterly snort. The moon will be stained of blood, and the sun in seeing this horror forbear to shine, the wind will be heard crying. These brother will bathe in blood and tremor, or I will die trying.
A kiss from the lips of a cursed rose have mine only ever known, for I have been damned to be in such unfortunate events even before I was grown. To lose my left eye much to dread, by urging to save a foolish and exhausted girl who was lost in the forest from a volatile family of three.
She was accused of consuming their porridge and infiltrating their beds. This fearless abandon that I possess many will naively call courage but I now call it foolishness; I grabbed her hand and off we sped. The papa was fast as the breeze, as he grabbed me sternly. I reckoned my life ended there, but Hope, who I did not look to bother, had called upon the one who generously introduced me to the cursed rose, my cantankerous father.
For he came to my rescue and the man of much strength and hair who held me, my father looked to reason with. But when it didn’t work he proceeded without caution to kick the man in the sack between his legs, making the chances of our getaway much more successful.
We never camped in those woods ever again, and when we told our stories to other men, we were deemed insane. It was father who drank their porridge, and it was he who rummaged their beds and through their house. He found not a valuable thing so he says, but only a family of cockroaches and a timid mouse.
When we arrived at the kitchen, the brothers quarreled over who deserved my most delicious and precious parts. I grabbed the brother carrying me and I viciously strangled him, and as the other discovered the jiffy, a great struggle ensued. I rapidly kicked the other two brothers between the legs, took my shoes as they bent over, and on the backs of their heads I gave eye-popping whacks.
Chester came into the house and such the likes of a loyal friend I could not demand for more. He barked at Cornelius, and he leaped on Ludwig as he scratched and bit; the poor man’s face he aimed to tore. The cruelty I will show to these brothers, Lucifer will be greatly charmed; for this night I am a man on fire with a passion for justice that burns in me like the fire of hearth; clothe me with burning coals, and see me unharmed.
I grabbed Cornelius and threw him into the furnace where so many buttocks have been cooked; I did not wish him dead, I pulled him out of the fire; I judged him to suffer, his countenance forever to be a dread. Half of Ludwig’s face was gone but his true one was finally seen, and Chester looked to finish what remained, but his viciousness disregarded me when I asked him to refrain.
I grabbed the middle child and I swung at him as if I was being pestered by flies, knocked him down and took a knife from my pocket, looking to amputate his eyes. Go somewhere ye that wish to hear something soothing and kind; I have left one brother crisp, another faceless, and another blind.
I have rubbed their scales in mud, for I am convinced that perhaps God sent me here to cast a net, to capture these red-bellied piranhas, and the river is made of blood. I have now judged, for the jury was the brethren themselves; they have deemed each other guilty and now time for the execution.
I grabbed Ludwig and reeled him out of the house and kicked him until he could no longer cry. I made my hound keep the rest occupied. I went inside and grabbed Cornelius after Chester helped me stall, and took many nails and a banner and pinned Cornelius to the kitchen wall.
I took the middle brother, he without eyes, and put some of the nails in his sockets, the excruciating pain he could not even express. I walked back outside in an animalistic manner of rage as many saw me, shocked at the sight of Ludwig and the injuries to which his body had taken toll. I assured the people who were aghast not to worry, for I “have everything under control.”
I grabbed Ludwig and acknowledged his evil; something he so dread, and I told him a little tale of Redd. I said to him, “Ludwig, to me there are events tragic and there are events of tragedy, you have committed the latter, way too many times. But for the former a tale my father once told me; a wolf had been hurt hunting in a forest and was to be nursed by grand nanny Jane, who promised the beast that in no time he would be able to leap in a spurt.
Redd, in an unexpected visit to her grandmother who admires much alcohol, brought with her some wine and some bread. Granny was meanwhile in the woods looking for herbal medicine to heal the wolf’s sores, the house was to house only the beast, no less, no more.
Little Redd rode in her hood, ventured into the dorm, only to be alarmed to find her granny covered by the sheets and in quite an alarming form. She noticed granny’s giant canines, her long tongue, and her eyes which induced fear, her hairy body and he doorways for ears. When granny returned she found a hood stained by blood and interrogated the beast.
He answered, “my kind ma’am, an intruder came into your house and listening to thy orders took them seriously and I devoured her as I caught her.”
She responded in horror, “You uncompromised beast! Get out; you just ate my granddaughter.” So after that, she hired a man to kill the beast but in great guilt the beast had killed himself.
I did not wish Ludwig dead, I wished him to live with the horror of it. From the attic to the basement to the sin-filled corridors, I drew Chester out and set on fire the house of past horrors.
I discovered it was not just the Hannibal brothers that were cannibals but many in the bloody town months later. Find an evil man and you can kill him, but what happens when you find an evil community? My advice is leave it be; eventually they will devour themselves. It intrigues me why others find evil men so intriguing. I don’t care. I believe that in the end, justice will prevail.
Ben Rifinito
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I kind of like it maybe because I haven't really read it all yet