Die Schwester

Heinrich and I jumped up at once, running back to the castle and to my mother’s bedchamber. Rose Red and Wilhelm were already there with the physician, all of them pale as ghosts. Mother Holle’s face was the color of ashes.

“It’s seems she has the plague,” said the physician in a grim voice. “If I had been here earlier, I might have been able to treat it – perhaps bleed her or the like. However, she is too far gone.”

I sat down in a chair as my legs began to tremble. Mother has always been there for us. I can’t lose her now … not now. “She’s going to die, isn’t she, sir?”

The physician pursed his thin brown lips and regarded me with an intelligible green eye. “She is only unconscious at the moment, my lady. Still, it will take a miracle – or witchcraft – to save her.”

“No!” shouted my sister. Wilhelm gripped her arm.

“My – my lady?”

“No!” she repeated. “It’s not the plague! Stop saying that nonsense about witchery and alchemy! I – I just cannot stand it all!”

“Rose!” I gasped. Mother was staring at her with wide eyes, eyes that could no longer see. “Don’t talk like that!”

She burst into tears. “Snow White, you just won’t understand what I mean,” she sobbed. “None of you will. Please leave me, with Mother, for awhile. Just a little while, if you must. I have things I need to say to her and her alone.” She gazed at Wilhelm meaningfully, and I couldn’t help but wonder, what secret was she keeping?

Wilhelm seemed startled. “Oh, of course. Come along, sir,” he said courteously. “Heinrich, Snow, if you could just give Rose Red a few moments of peace.” He followed us out of the chamber and into the corridor. “She is going through much, and I feel it is best if she lets it all out.” He smiled. “All right?”

I wasn’t convinced, but I nodded, curtsying to the physician and both princes, before turning around to find a friend.

“Snow!” Martha, my lady-in-waiting, burst into the corridor. “You have to come quickly!”

I started. “Is something the matter?”

“It’s your mother. She – oh, it’s horrible – ”

“Get on with it, Martha,” I said in a dangerous tone. I didn’t like the way this conversation was heading. “What has happened to my mother?”

“Just now, she – she was poisoned!”



I already knew who the culprit was, even as she sobbed over the cold, still form of what once had been our mother. She held an empty bottle in one of her soft hands. Heinrich and Wilhelm came in when they heard the commotion from outside. Almost a dozen servants were muttering gravely over the scene.

A woman, not yet forty years old, dead in her own bed.

A beautiful girl, her eldest daughter, crying hysterically over the body.

The youngest daughter, pretty, but not as much as her sister, standing frozen with her arms outstretched towards the killer.

“Snow, don’t look!” Heinrich commanded. But I couldn’t bear to move at all. “At least put down your arms, please, Snow.” I didn’t budge.

“She – she – how dare she!” I screamed. My heart pounded in my chest, and Rose Red dropped the vial which had once contained the fatal liquid. She jumped up, and her brown eyes met my blue ones. “How could you? Your own mother!”

“Snow – you don’t understand – ” she stuttered. Her face flooded with heat at being discovered in such a state.

“I understand perfectly! You felt that Mother was holding you back from exploring the world, and so you murdered her! What, am I next?” I demanded.

“I – it’s not like that!” Rose Red insisted.

I stormed out of the room as tears threatened to stream down my face. I didn’t know what to think, about anything, except for one little whim:

I wanted vengeance, and I was going to do absolutely anything to get it.



My scheme began the day after my wedding. It was a grand affair; almost everyone in Bayern attended. Everyone except for my mother and Rose Red. My sister was placed in the dungeons after her dastardly deed, and though I felt sympathetic towards Wilhelm, who was completely smitten, I couldn’t help but smile at the thought of her suffering down there.

“My father wants us to produce an heir as soon as possible,” Heinrich chuckled. “He has never had any grandchildren, and he wants a grandson – or a granddaughter, he doesn’t care – before he goes to Heaven.”

“Is there a such thing as Heaven?” I asked softly. His head snapped up, and his hazel eyes met mine.

“Snow,” he began, “it’s done. Don’t worry yourself over it, all right, love?” He kissed my forehead and tucked a stray lock of hair behind my ear. “Why don’t you get some sleep? You have a big day ahead of you.” He grinned mischievously.

I blushed and headed to my bedchamber, which was joined with his. “Good night, Heinrich,” I whispered.

When the church bells began to toll midnight, I crawled out from under my covers and got dressed. Then I snuck into my husband’s chamber and opened a wardrobe to pick out a saber. But as I pulled a sword from its sheath, it made a loud, metallic scraping noise that caused him to shift in his slumber.

It wasn’t going to work; it was far too loud.

I returned to my bed to pull on a cloak so that I may go outside the castle. One way or another, I would find a sufficient weapon.

I hurried back inside with the icy point in my hand. I made my way down to the dank, cold dungeons. First, to get the guard out of the way.

He was snoring loudly; the keys clinked at his waist. Several veins were prominent against his ruddy neck. I pulled a small silver dagger from my sash and took a deep breath before pressing the tip into one of them.

Scarlet blood spurted from the wound, and the man awoke instantaneously. Of course, he couldn’t say anything, for in the next moment I slit his throat open. His insides splattered my attire, but I didn’t care. Revenge felt good.

His eyes were glazed, now. Sunken. I’d killed someone for the first time.

It was a thrill to me.

My next action was to take the keys from his belt – quickly, to preserve my weapon – and sprint to the cage-like structure in which my sister slept.

“Rose Red,” I said simply. “Wake up.”

Her thickly-lashed eyes fluttered open, and her fiery hair, though mussed, was shiny and flowed to her small waist. Her ruby lips upturned into a smirk.

It infuriated me, to see a smile play across that crimson mouth. I was surely suffering from dementia. Snow White, are you about to kill your own sister?

“I was wondering when you would arrive, Snow,” she murmured. She stood and calmly, proudly, strode over to where I was. Her left hand caressed my face, while her right held the arm with my weapon. “Do it. Kill me.”

I reacted immediately; the sharp tip of the icicle was thrust directly into her beating heart, and she choked on her own blood as the red fluid gushed out of her mouth.

“A-again,” she commanded in a weak voice. She knew I wanted vengeance. She knew she deserved it all. I pulled the icicle out, and realized that it had begun to melt. I held up my dagger and stabbed one of her eyeballs.

She didn’t scream, she didn’t cry out, she didn’t utter a sound. But she smiled wider, a signal for me to continue.

I gouged out the eye and ran the edge down her neck to peel away the skin. It was rather stupid of me, to wear an ivory dress. It was the color of the setting sun now. Even Rose’s blood was beautiful.

I scalped her – my trophy of the most glorious day of my existence. Yet she still was alive, after all of this. Her remaining eye was dotted with speckles of red.

I cut off each of her fingers, one by one. Then I bit into her neck, like a vampire, and chewed on the flesh, and felt the last spark of life leave her mangled body.

Mother always said, “What one has, let her divide with the other.”

If I couldn’t have happiness, she never would.