The Glass Slipper

Once upon a time, two parents stood ever watchful over their newborn child.

A single candle lit the small cottage. Dim lighting, but the house was warm. Both parents stood in each other’s embrace, eyes gazing at the resting baby.

The father was as strong as could be. A man who gave off a sense of power, but also understanding. His sleek black hair hung low, tied into a loose ponytail reaching his back. His watchful eyes glowed an intense grey.

The mother was no different in her aura. Strong, but loving. She would fight only to protect someone she cares about. Her hair flowed a golden blonde, giving emphasis to her blue eyes.

“He looks peaceful,” whispered the father. His voice soft, but defining.

“He should be. You got out the life,” replied the mother, speaking as soft as a mother should. Seeing her husband’s worry, she turned his eyes to her and tried to calm him, “There is nothing to be afraid of. The fox promised we’d be left alone.”

“I hope he holds true to…” The father stopped mid sentence and turned his head. He heard something creeping to their door. Something. Not someone. “Get down!” He screamed, turning his back to the door and protecting his wife from the inevitable danger.

CRACK! The door shattered like glass at the whim of a powerful force. Splinters crashed about, bouncing off furniture and walls, even finding their way into the father’s back. As the dust cleared, the intruder showed itself. Not him. This thing was more beast than man.

Stepping into the light, the beast’s form was made clear. It stood over eight feet with a body ripped to peak physical condition. Every inch of his body was covered by fur as black as the night itself. The only light reaching him was reflected from the shining claws and large crimson eyes. A snout stretched from his face, matched by the high triangular ears.

“There you are,” the beast spoke, half a snarl, half a normal low tone. Each word raised his lips, revealing razor sharp fangs. “The fox was most unwillingly to reveal the location. Apparently there is honor among thieves.”

“You are not welcome here, Wolf,” the father commented as he stood tall. He held no fear. He could afford none.

“I may not be, but you were not welcome in the King’s castle either. Did that stop you?”

“It is not here,” the father stated, knowing exactly what the beast was talking about.

“Then where?” the Wolf was getting agitated by how long this was taking.

“Have you tried sniffing around?” the father taunted the beast.

The Wolf took no liking to it. Dropping his front paws on the ground, he charged his way to the father, tearing the wooden floor as he moved. The father didn’t move an inch. He knew better.

The Wolf stopped not an inch from the father’s face and asked again, his breath tainting the air, “Where is the crown?”

“Two words. Tooth brush,” the father taunted again, but this time adding a kick to the beast’s chest.

More strength than apparent was in the father’s leg. For that one swift kick sent the beast sailing into the far wall. With a CRASH, the wolf was up and moving again.

The father never strayed from his position. Keeping his left steady on the floor, he used his right leg to retaliate at the Wolf. Throwing a leg left to meet right claw. A knee brought down and then up, striking the beast’s chin. And then a straight kick to the chest again, sending the creature back.

The beast knew he was getting nowhere. This man he sought after gained his legend for a reason. With a snarl, the Wolf stood again, though he had no intent on attacking again. Not directly at least.

“Do you know why I was sent after you? Me, specifically?” the Wolf asked and sat down in a nearby chair. Each word came with a roll of his claws on the wood of the chair.

“Should I care?” the father moved himself slightly, keeping a direct coverage between him and his family. His wife was holding tight to his shirt. She was still there, which is what he wanted.

“I’d like to think it was because I’m strong. Dedicated to my cause. Willing to do anything to serve my king.”

“That’s what all murderers say,” the father broke in. He knew this beast all too well.

The Wolf growled happily as he was reminded of his victims. “Regardless. I was sent here because the King knew that when I found you, I would give you your sentence here and now.”

“A real time saver, aren’t you?” the father questioned. “Let me guess. My sentence is death.”

“Correct,” the Wolf confirmed, fingers clicking as they rolled.

“That’s so cliché,” the father commented.

The Wolf had bided his time enough. In one swift move, he grasped the arm of the chair and slung it the father. The father responded quickly, sending a swift kick to the projectile and splintering it. As his foot dropped to get ready for another assault, he stopped. A cold sensation ran across his chest. Pain filled him suddenly as he dropped to his knees.

“Sentence fulfilled,” the Wolf spoke. His plan was flawless. As the chair distracted his opponent, he moved behind it and struck as the chaos flew.

The father wasn’t done yet though. He had a family to protect. Using what little strength he had left, the father popped back up off his knee and sent a kick into the Wolf’s neck.

With no choice but to move now, the father followed the staggering beast and kicked again. The Wolf countered and sent his claws down upon the father, never to meet a target. The father was too fast. Seeing the attack coming, he spun around the beast’s back and put a knee into it’s spine.

If it was any less, the beast’s back would’ve been broken, but he was no normal creature. Roaring, he turned with his claws leading and again found no target. The father was already low and had put a blow into its knee.

The Wolf watched as the father bounced back weakly, blood trickled down his chest. The father wouldn’t last much longer.

“You are every bit of worthy ass they told me you would be,” The Wolf spoke as he rubbed his knee. If not for the father’s weary state, it would’ve been dislocated. Looking away from his knee, the Wolf turned one massive crimson eye to the father and smiled, “Which is why I brought back up.”

“James!” The mother screamed out in agony. The Wolf did as he planned and backed the father away from the other two long enough for his help to do his job.

A troll stood behind the mother as she dropped. Slimy green skin, beady blue eyes and a long pointed nose gave him the hideous appearance everyone had come to know him by. In his hand was something much worse though. A thin blade dripping with fresh blood, steaming as it met the cold air.

The father moved quickly, but wasn’t fast enough. By the time he had reached the troll and kicked it in the chest, his wife was already fading. Before she could fall, he caught her in his arms and let her fall onto his knees.

With last effort, the mother touched a hand to her husband’s cheek to wipe a tear away, “James.”

The name came almost inaudible, but rang like an echo through James’ mind. Rage blinding him and filling with vigor. The troll had recovered himself and started to creep his way forward to James.

With a sloppy motion, the vile creature attacked James, only to find the target that was there a second ago had vanished. In a flash, James reappeared behind the troll. Skillful as ever, the scorned father grabbed the troll’s knife wielding hand, twisted and kicked. The troll flew into the wall once again, but this time left the knife with James, who was moving again.

The Wolf smiled at the challenge as James dashed towards him. With stance ready, the beast kept a stern eye on his opponent, but just before James reached him, lost sight. James had flown high, his ponytail skimming across the ceiling of the cottage as he dropped with blade ready to the Wolf.

The beast reacted quickly. James had no way to move midair. Stepping forward, the Wolf grabbed James’ leg and slammed him into the ground.

The Wolf dropped on all fours and made sure each appendage of James’ was immobilized. “That was a foolish move,” the Wolf taunted, leaning in close to James.

James smirked, “Was it?”

“What?” the Wolf questioned, but had no time to react to what he saw.

James quickly spun the knife in his fingers and let loose. Shining as it traveled, the blade sliced its way across the Wolf’s left eye.

“You son of a…!” the Wolf roared in pain. Arching his back high, he let his claw lead his drop. This time, the claws met their mark.

The father was silenced.

“Are you okay, Wolf?” the troll asked as he clambered his way back to his feet. His voice as vile as his appearance.

“I’m fine, fool!” the Wolf growled, a paw firmly clutched over his bleeding eye. “Find the crown!”

The troll didn’t hear him. He had become distracted. For the first time, the intruders had noticed the cradle illuminated under the candlelight. The troll crept his way closer to the cradle and peered inside. Seeing inside, he sneered evilly.

“It’s a baby,” he whispered hungrily.

“We have no time for your fetishes, Rumplestiltskin. Leave it. You can come back for it after we found the crown,” the Wolf said as he pulled his troll companion away from the cradle.

Rumplestiltskin broke free from the Wolf’s grip. His desire was too great for patience. Drooling, he reached a lanky hand to the baby, only to stop at the sound of breaking glass.

Turning to the Wolf, the troll saw a single ebony arrow sticking from the beast’s abdomen. “What was that?” the troll asked.

“Trouble,” the Wolf proclaimed and yanked the arrow from his gut.

As if planned, the rest of the window broke. A man came crashing through this time rather than an arrow. Moving gracefully, the man dropped to a knee as he fell into the shadows and let loose a notched arrow at Rumplestiltskin. The troll yelled and dropped as the arrow embedded itself into his shoulder, but the mysterious man wasn’t done yet.

Dropping the bow, the man unsheathed a wide scimitar. Hilt shining gold and blade gleaming with polished steel. Armed, the man stepped to the Wolf and took a swing. The beast met the motion expertly by stepping forward, but only fell into the man’s play.

With a spin, the man quickly scooped up the baby and bounded out the broken door, leaving the two behind.

“No!” screamed Rumplestiltskin.

“Silence, you buffoon,” growled the Wolf. The troll ceased his whining instantly. “Get up. The child is of no concern. Find the crown.”

Rumplestiltskin pulled the arrow from his shoulder and staggered off into the furniture, digging through every orifice he could find. While he did, the Wolf stared at the door curiously. A child of James Nimble. That could be a problem.