Mother Goose: An Empire Falls

r Goose: An Empire Falls”

  Chris Van Dyk

  Copyright 2013 Chris Van Dyk

  Licensing Statement

  Our Story Continues…

  This wasn’t happening. It couldn’t be happening.

  She flapped the folds of her silk red dress behind her as she stormed through her luxurious palace. Jade pillars and marble floors flashed beneath her feet as she walked with a deliberation unlike any commoner could attain to the throne room.

  Once inside she ordered her court out. They were to secure the grounds and kill any intruder who dared come near their citadel. The army of mythical creatures – some you know from your day dreams, others form your nightmares – turned and lumbered out in a magical procession.

  And then the queen fluffed out her dress and sat upon her throne.

  She had to compose herself. She was Mother Goose, the governing power over all Fairy Tales. She created them, she molded them. They existed solely for the purpose of doing her will.

  But something had gone terribly awry.

  Some dumb blonde vigilante was ruining everything. The naïve girl was interfering in others’ stories with no regard to the consequences. The realm was cracking. Reality itself was beginning to shift.

  It had started with a quest for vengeance. Goldilocks had toppled the mob lord Papa Bear, murdering him and his family in their own home.

  A crash reverberated through the fortress. An alarm sounded and there was a great clamoring as warriors rushed to meet the new threat.

  It had begun.

  Mother Goose had been receiving some strange packages as of late. They were her first indicators that this night would come.

  The first contained the paws of her faithful pet and favorite thug-for-hire, Big Bad. Second came a set of bear claws in a beautiful parcel wrapped in an exotic bear-skin rug.

  Rumors began to trickle in. Snow White had not been properly assassinated. Rather, a young girl had rescued her from the woodsman and then infiltrated Wicked Wanda’s (who most readers will recognize as the unfairly named “Evil Queen”) home. Wanda had been a longtime associate of Mother Goose’s. Her soul burned with fury when she received a box containing Wanda’s heart. Worse, the mutated dwarf slaves that mined her empire’s gems had been freed and Snow White now led them in a full rebellion.

  And then Cinderella, that gold-digging, prince seducing tramp, had ruined Mother Goose’s chance to ally with a neighboring kingdom. She’d been living with Sally (inappropriately named “The Wicked Step Mother”) and serving Sally’s daughters. They were to marry the prince and unite the two kingdoms so that a war could be avoided.

  Again, Goldilocks managed to intervene. Knowing Cinderella would surely ruin everything by offending the prince (lacking courtly manners and such), Sally had locked the obsessive girl away in her room for the duration of the evening. Goldilocks, however, enlisted the aid of Helen’s sister, the Fairy Godmother, and orchestrated a daring jail-break.

  Once to the ball, Goldilocks created a distraction long enough for Cinderella to seduce the slow-witted prince. He asked Cinderella to marry him immediately. For good measure, the king “mysteriously died” the next day, leaving the newlyweds on the throne.

  Confirmation of Sally’s demise came in a glass box that contained three pairs of severed feet.

  With her nation’s resources cut off, an army of invaders at her border, and a psychotic girl out to destroy her, Mother Goose was running low on options. She sent word to her backup supplier, the drug lord Bloody Mary, the Red Queen of Wonderland.

  In return she received a box containing a blood soaked deck of playing cards and a withered rose.

  Needing reinforcements, she requested the aid of an air force from her cousin in Oz.

  A box with a charred monkey paw and the splinters of what looked like a broom inside was found on her doorstep the next day.

  The battle outside raged.

  Mother Goose gripped the folds of her evening dress and clenched her teeth so tightly they nearly cracked.

  The only surviving article from Wanda’s burned estate was her high-speed WiFi wall-mounted flat screen computer. The Mirror model was the cutting edge of technology with its voice-recognition capabilities and advanced artificial intelligence.

  “Report! Show me the battle!” Mother Goose commanded.

  At first there was nothing but static, but eventually a picture began to form. From the background noise came cries of pain, terror, despair, rage, and the sick laughter of victors who would never be human again. Cinderella’s forces had already breached the walls. Mother Goose’s reinforcement troops had been ambushed on the way by Snow White’s rebels as they used guerrilla warfare, digging underground tunnels and laying land mines. The diminutive sub-humans swarmed over their prey.

  Werewolves howled, dragons roared as they breathed rivers of fire into the oncoming troops, fairies like little cheery orbs of light flitted about the battlefield and reduced their enemies to bones. New weaponry had been developed as archers fired incendiary arrows at enemy ranks. The scene of destruction and chaos was almost too much to keep up with.

  “You’re Majesty!”

  A tiny voice squeaked from somewhere in the room. Looking down at the cardinal carpet that ran from the door to the throne, Mother Goose spied Tom Thumb running at full tilt. He was her chief spy and informant and had things been different, he could have been her lover.

  “Tom,” she said in a surprisingly calm voice. “What is it?”

  “Your majesty, we have to go. Now,” he panted. “We’re even hemmed in at the water front. Strange creatures that are human-fish hybrids have attacked our vessels. Our only hope is to escape to your auxiliary stronghold at Grandma’s House.”

  Mother Goose got up from her throne and knelt beside her tiny companion. “My dear, sweet boy. I never run. Take refuge in my purse and I will protect you. These intruders will not go unpunished.”

  There was a tiny thwit right before Tom’s eyes went wide and froze into his death gaze. He fell face first before his beloved queen, never to leap over her thumb again. A long sewing needle protruded from his back. The thread ran down the carpet to the archer who had shot him.

  Thumbelina stood defiantly before Mother Goose. She then grabbed the thread and hauled in her kill.

  “You!” Mother Goose raged. She reached down and snatched Tom’s body, careful not to prick herself on the needle should it turn out to be poisoned. Thumbelina was launched forward at the giant’s strength. The Great Goose went to crush her under her stylish stilettos, but the little warrior curled inside the walnut shell she carried, which allowed her to be swiftly picked up by her pet sparrow that had originally delivered her to the throne room. The little bird flew at full speed for the nearest exit as Mother Goose cried out.

  The dictator held her companion in her palms, dropped to her knees, and cried for the first time since this entire ordeal had started. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d shed tears of such remorse. In fact, nowhere in fairy tale lore is it written that she’d ever cried at all. The salty drops of venom sizzled on the carpet.

  The front door burst open, but she didn’t move.

  “Mother Goose!” bellowed Cinderella. One would hardly recognize the former scullery maid. She was decked out in her war dress – a gift from the fairy godmother. Picture a brilliant, floofy evening gown and then cover it in chainmail. Blood stained her cheeks alongside ash from a burning civilization. She raised her great sword and pointed it at her quarry. “Surrender is not an option. Tonight, you DIE!”

  Behind her came the rest of her war party. Snow White had just arrived, carrying the Huntsmen’s hatchet and knife on her bel
t with a half-empty quiver of apple-poison arrows on her back. The great bow was nearly as tall as she. Her pale face and dark, expressionless eyes were an alarming contrast to her crimson lips.

  Dorothy was next, wearing a black robe with dazzling ruby slippers. She hovered into the room, riding side saddle on an ancient broom. She gave a devilish smile as she toyed with the fire between her fingers.

  Last was Alice. Her wide, drug addled eyes never blinked, but twitched uncontrollably. In her right hand was a great blood-stained axe she’d acquired from her fallen foes in Wonderland. In her left were bladed playing cards. Her lips were constantly moving as she muttered “Off with her head” over and over again.

  And still Mother Goose didn’t offer to move.

  “Snow, take her out,” Cinderella ordered.

  Snow White obeyed, stringing an arrow on the bow. She took her time, carefully lining up her shot, sure to hit the heart she imagined herself eating later. The arrow flew from the