May 14th, Cinderella? Or is it?

     Today's prompt was to re-write Cinderella, this is my version.

     Cinder swayed through the house letting the words of a song from the Love Boat episode she’d just finished watching go through her head. 

Those fingers in my hair
That sly come hither stare
That strips my conscience bare
It's witchcraft

And I've got no defense for it
The heat is too intense for it
What good would common sense for it do

     A smile slipped onto her face as she considered singing them at the next Karaoke night at The Bistro.  Of course, that would never do.  If she were to do that, then her daddy might find out that she was a stripper at the club, and that would be disastrous.  A low chuckle left her bee stung lips. 

     Just then, her step-sisters, Hilda, Francine, and Marta came barreling down the stairs like the three stooges she considered them to be.  Each one of them stood a good five inches taller than her own five feet four inches, and what’s more, none of them were shy about going back for seconds at mealtime. 

     Cinder gave them a disparaging look before asking, “What are you three ugly oxen trying to do?  Break the house down?”

     Marta was the youngest of the three, a couple years younger than her own twenty-five years.  She was also the mouthiest of the group, not willing to take any guff off of anyone.    She lifted her chin and said, “At least we’re well liked by the staff and neighbors, not like you.”

     Cinder’s eyes narrowed.  “You better be nice to me.  Remember, one word from me and Daddy will toss the lot of you out on your ugly asses.”

     Marta tossed her auburn hair in the air before saying, “Your father doesn’t want anything to do with you.  That’s why he married our mother.  So he could leave you with her and he could go off and live his life without you.”

     Cinder’s eyes flashed with anger as the air in the room seemed to disappear.  She lifted her hand toward Marta and made a fist as she started talking in some ancient dialect.

     Marta took up a stance as if she were a warrior defending herself and her people.  She put up a hand with her palm facing Cinder and the other woman was jerked back as if from a blow.

     Cinder’s eyes went black and the feeling in the room went from bad to worse as Hilda and Francine started gasping for air. 

     Marta’s hair started flying around her in the air, as if she were caught in a tornado, but there was no breeze at all in the house, the air was even more charged and if it was possible for air to boil, that’s what it would be doing.  Marta touched the amulet at her throat and Cinder flew back through the air and slammed into the wall. 

     A low growl came from Cinder’s throat as she struggled to stand.  Her voice was dangerously soft as she said, “One of these days I’m going to catch you without that thing.”

     Marta raised her chin.  “I’ll be waiting.”

     Cinder stalked past the three and as she did, her hand went into the air and the chandelier that their great-great grandfather had given to his wife on their wedding day came crashing down, narrowly missing the three girls.  Cinder turned at the door, a smug smile on her face as she said, “If you think that’s something, wait until I make my entrance at that fancy ball that your mother is planning.”  Laughter trilled from her throat as she walked away.

     Francine grabbed a broom out of the closet and swept up the broken glass as Hilda picked up the metal frame of the chandelier.  Marta used the distraction to slip out of the room and into the study. She went to the wall where the bookshelves were and pulled out, Witches Unite.  When the bookshelf popped away from the wall, she slipped through to the special room that only she knew about.

     Making sure that her sisters wouldn’t be able to follow her, she closed the secret door and then waved her hand in the air, lighting the torches that ran the length of the passageway.  When she reached her destination, she knelt and muttered, “I search not for riches or for fame, I only wish for right to win.  Your help I need, your help I seek, and in it, harm none.”

     There was a pedestal in the middle of the room and on it was a thick book.  At her words, a golden light shown down on it and the book opened as if by magic.  Marta went forward and read the passage that was being shown to her.  Following the writing exactly, she prepared herself for what was to come.  When she finally left the room some three hours later, everyone else had already left. 

     She found a note on the hall table that read;

     Marta, we looked but couldn’t find you.  We’ll send the limo back for you once we reach the ball.  Your dress is laid out on your bed.

    She took the note with her as she hurried up to her room and took the fastest shower on record before slipping into the emerald green gown fit for a queen.  She slipped her small feet into a pair of glass slippers and with all the grace and speed that she could manage, then she raced downstairs, reaching the front door as the bell rang. 

     Marta hesitated only a moment to make sure that there was nothing sinister on the other side of the door before opening it.  The chauffer was standing there and she allowed him to escort her to the waiting car.  When they pulled up at the hotel where the ball was taking place, Marta accepted the driver’s hand to help her out and then made her way into the ballroom.

     She let her gaze roam the room as she watched everyone dancing.  When she caught sight of Cinder, she noticed that the older woman was in the midst of a group of seven men.  The flash of wedding rings on three of their fingers seemed to mean nothing to Cinder as she flirted with each of the men. 

     Just as Marta started down the steps, the most handsome man she’d ever seen stopped at the bottom of the staircase. 

     Cinder noticed him and moved from her group over to where the young man had stopped.  She said something to him, but his gaze was fixed on Marta instead. 

     Marta stopped three steps from the bottom and the young man held out his hand.  Marta placed her hand in his and allowed him to guide her the rest of the way down the steps.  She smiled shyly up at him.

     His eyes darkened as he asked, “May I have the pleasure of this dance?”

     Marta’s voice was breathy as she said, “Yes.”

     He led her onto the dance floor and for the next hour, he would dance with no one but Marta.

     She felt like a princess, and when the clock struck midnight, she was torn between wanting to stay, and needing to follow the directions she’d been given.  So with a last regretful look in his direction, she raced from the room, unknowingly leaving a glass slipper behind on the steps. 

     She wasn’t aware that he lifted the slipper reverently and decreed that only the true owner of the slipper could be his wife.

     Thirty minutes later, Marta was just heading down the stairs when her mother and two sisters walked into the house.  Hilda and Francine told her all about what happened at the ball, thinking that she’d somehow missed the whole thing.

     Just then, Cinder stormed into the house.  The mascara had smeared so that it looked like she was crying black tears, and her hair looked like a bird had made a nest of it.  She was breathing hard as she glared at each of the women in front of her.  “You won’t win him.  I’ve cast the spell, and only one person can fit in that slipper that he found.”  Her head lifted smugly.  “And it shall be me.”

     A knock sounded on the door and Hilda moved to answer it. 

     Marta’s eyes were drawn to the man she’d spent so much time dancing with. 

     He bowed to them before saying, “I’m sorry to bother you so late, but I wondered if I might impose on you to try the slipper on.  I must find the true owner immediately.”

     Irene nodded.  “My daughters and I would be happy to ease your mind, Prince Derek.  Please do come in.”

     Irene tried the shoe first but her foot was slightly too large for her to claim it as hers. 

     Hilda went next, but her foot was larger than her mother’s so it was a forgone conclusion that the slipper couldn’t be hers. 

     Francine’s foot nearly fit, but the shoe was just slightly smaller than her foot.

     The prince turned to Marta, but Cinder pushed her way forward.  “The shoe is mine.  I will prove it to you.”  She sat down and allowed the attendant that had accompanied the prince to slip the shoe on her foot.  It fit her foot like a glove and she stood, a smug smile on her face as she triumphantly declared, “See, I told you that I was the true owner of the shoe.”

     Just then, Cinder’s face took on a look as if she were in incredible pain.  She looked down at her foot and her eyes widened in horror as she screeched, “What have you done?!”

     The prince bowed.  “The sorcerer placed a curse on the slipper so that if anyone but the true owner claimed it as theirs, the shoe would imprison them for a lifetime.”

     Cinder shook her head.  “Impossible.  I’m stronger than any sorcerer.”

     A knock sounded on the door and before anyone could move, it opened.  They all recognized Merlin.  The old man smiled smugly.  “You might think you are the strongest in the land, but there is one stronger than even you.”

     Cinder’s eyes flashed as she snarled, “Who?”

     Marta stepped forward.  “If I remember the curse, when the true owner steps forward to claim the slipper, the one who lies, will have their fate sealed for all time.”

     Merlin bowed.  “And it is so.”

     Marta turned to Cinder, a smile gracing her beautiful face.  “Then I claim the shoe as its rightful owner.”

     Cinder screamed out in pain as the shoe shrunk to the point that it incased her big toe entirely in glass.  As she struggled, the glass sucked more and more of her foot inside until the entire foot was wrapped with the glass.  But it didn’t stop there.  Cinders screams got worse with each passing moment, and when they finally stopped, Cinder’s entire body was surrounded by glass.  Her hands were up as trying to ward off the glass and there was a scream frozen on her face.  The black of her eyes was the only thing that appeared alive.

     Merlin bowed gracefully toward Marta.  “Where shall I place the orb, my future Queen Marta?”

     Marta smiled wryly, “Why don’t you bury it in the desert sands.”

     The prince stepped forward and took her hand.  “It shall be done on our wedding day…if you will do me the honor of becoming my queen.”

     Marta’s smile grew wider.  “I’d be honored.”

And they lived happily ever after.

The End