This was getting pretty old pretty fast. 

Prince John Thomas of the Saemor Kingdom smiled, nodding his head to the dozens of maidens twirling on the dance floor. Their dresses flashed purple and gold as they caught the light of castle torches. A strange and romantic feel was in the air, thanks to the dim lighting and masquerade masks. The prince knew better, though. This was just another party thrown to make his mother quiet for a few more weeks. When the glory wore off, she'd complain until the King threw another. He glanced at his empty cup and made his way to the tables.

I'll need a few more to survive this night, he thought.

Dodging two particularly excited maidens asking to dance, he finally made it to the wine. What were their names? Annabeth? Ditzy? Wait, which was which? Prince John shrugged it off and figured if the night really dragged on, he'd just pick either one. Both girls seemed entertaining enough. He poured himself a glass of much-needed alcohol, glad his attendant couldn't tell him apart from the rest of the crowd. At seventeen, he couldn't wait to do things himself.

"A peacock, huh?"

Prince John jumped, but all curses he had fell to the back of his mind as he spotted the beauty before him.

Her hair was midnight black and a bright fox mask framed stormy eyes. On her neck rested a gold chain with blue gem shaped like a star. As if to stand out even more, she wore a beautiful midnight blue and white ball gown. The threads were so thin that it looked as if they were spun by spiders, delicate and small but resilient. Clear glass slippers glinted in the torchlight from beneath her dress. The nameless beauty smiled coyly, raising a dainty hand to her heart-shaped lips.

"Uh-uh....yes. Yes, I am a peacock."

"Any reason?"

"My mother picked it out."

She threw her head back laughing, making the air ring like gentle bells. Prince John blushed and set down his glass. The mysterious girl's eyes twinkled as she leaned forward.

"Your mother is very wise then. Peacocks are a glorious bird symbolizing royalty, power, and beauty."

The prince laughed to himself quietly, making the girl flush pink and curiously tilt her head.

"What?"

"Pray tell, what kind of maiden knows the nature of such animals?"

Her lips lifted up into a spine-shivering smile as her eyes flashed.

"The kind that loves All Hallows Eve."

Prince John tried to wrap his head around that. All Hallows Eve had never been anything but another dance to him and yet this enchanting beauty was in love with it.

Surely, he thought, this holiday is special if such a woman is won over.

"What has made you fall in love with it?"

As soon as he asked that, the girl's face brightened like a thousand suns. The prince's heart raced, and when she wasn't looking, he put a hand over it in the hopes of keeping it inside his chest.

"All Hallows Eve is a time of celebration and superstition. It straddles the line between fall and winter, plenty and poverty, life and death. How could you not fall in love with such a mystery?"

Holding his hand out, the prince made an overly dramatic bow.

"The only mystery I'm interested in is why you aren't dancing with me."

The girl smirked, placing one hand on her hip.

"Don't you want my name first, kind sir?"

Prince John waggled his eyebrows, making the girl laugh and place her tiny hand in his.

"It's Cinderella, and I'd love to accompany you tonight...."

"Thomas."

"I'd love to accompany you tonight, Thomas."

The prince never felt so happy in all his life. Ever since birth, he was given everything he could ever want. Gold, jewels, horses, dogs, and so much more were his own. Yet, he was never satisfied. There was always an ache in his heart that grew as the years went by. His parents tried filling the ache with playmates, but they were never true friends. Prince John knew they were only there for gold and glory.

At last, he thought, I've found someone on my own. Someone who actually cares.

The rest of the night was a blur of laughter and happiness. Prince John and Cinderella danced until their feet were about to fall off, fed each other sweets until they felt like throwing up, and smiled until their faces became numb. This was the girl he wanted to spend the rest of his life with. A girl who snorted when she laughed too hard, a girl with two left feet, a girl with eyes that saw through every brick wall he put up. He was never so sure of anything else in his life. He could only think about their future together that night, but promised himself to go slow. First, he'd have to tell her who he was. Then he could move forward, step by step.

I want to do this right, he thought. She deserves a proper courting. She deserves love.

He turned towards Cinderella, who was currently gazing at the night sky through balcony doors. Placing a gentle hand on her shoulder, he practically glowed when she leaned into his touch.

"Thank you, Thomas."

Turning around in his arms, Cinderella buried her face in his chest and kissed the spot where his heart lay.

"This night...this was the best night of my life."

With shaking hands, Prince John entangled his fingers in her hair. The ebony locks were softer than clouds and the prince wished he could stay like this forever.

"This was the best night of my life as well, Cinderella."

She rested her chin on his chest and looked up at him with sparkling tears in her eyes. A cold breeze came through the balcony doors, forcing the two even closer.

"Truly? I'm not just another girl to entertain for the night?"

The prince shook his head furiously.

"Of course not. You're the only girl for the rest of my nights."

A stray tear fell down her cheek. Feeling bold, Prince John kissed it away. Cinderella sighed and wrapped her arms around his waist, trapping him in her grasp. It felt like it was both an eternity and a second in her arms, and the prince couldn't wait for more times like this.

In the distance, the clock boomed as it struck midnight.

Cinderella stiffened.

"Thomas, what was that?"

Pulling away slightly, the prince strained his eyes.

"It's now midnight, I believe."

Cinderella jumped back towards the ballroom, lifting her skirts and running.

"I have to go. I'm so sorry, but I have to go!"

Prince John stood there, watching as his love ran away from him. His feet were glued to the floor, and his heart seemed to stop beating. Did she find out who he was? Had she been playing with him all this time? Was he the entertainment for the night?

Millions of questions buzzed in his head as he stood frozen in time, but one stood out more than the rest.

Why wasn't he running after her?

Cinderella shoved her way through the crowd, and just before she reached the doors, she knocked over a table of refreshments. Wine stained her beautiful gown. People whispered behind their fans.

The scene knocked Prince John out of his trance.

In the background, he could hear the ladies cry out as he tore off his mask but he didn't care. His parents ordered him to come back at once, and servants ran back and forth between cleaning the mess and catching the next heir.

Prince John only saw the corner of Cinderella's dress disappearing behind the wooden doors. He only heard the sound of his heart echoing in his ears. He only felt the heartbreak that one feels while watching their love run from them.

Dodging two of the castle guards, he ducked behind one of the blood-red drapes and used the hidden servants' door.

He flew down the cobblestone stairs, only letting go of the breath he held when he slammed open the door and ran into the courtyard. The cold breeze nipped at his skin. Out of his peripheral vision, Prince John saw the bright reflection of glass slippers. Black and gray flew by him in a blur, going faster and faster without an end. Moonlight peeked through the trees, letting the prince just barely see his love in front of him. Prince John's heart beat to the sound of her name.

Cinder-ella. Cinder-ella. Cinder-ella.

Finally, he skidded to a halt. Cinderella was only a few feet in front of him, facing the endless woods. Her black hair flickered in and out of the light, like a shadow, and the moon made her look like a gift sent from heaven.

The prince bent over, hands on his knees, as he fought to catch his breath. He needed to tell her, and it had to be done right this time.

Would she run again? Did he have the energy to chase after her?

Yes, his heart vowed, I'll follow her to the ends of the earth if I have to.

Standing up straight, the prince wrung his hands in anticipation.

"C-Cinderel-la...it's true. I-I am Pr-rince John. I tho-ought it'd be b-better if you didn't know because I...well, I l-love you. I am a prince, and I am Thomas, and I am hopelessly in love with you. A-and only you."

Cinderella's shoulders shook as she hung her head, and fearing the worst, the prince started towards her.

"No, please love. Don't cry! I'll...I'll leave if it makes you happy. I swear on my honor."

For a split second, the small bit of shoulder he touched was as soft as silk. His heart beat faster than the drums at his coronation, and all was good. It didn't matter if Cinderella left. As long as she was happy then the prince could cherish this moment. While the moon would shine on her and her lover, it would also bathe him in light as he stared at his hand for hours on end. She would always be his only love. 

Then, the moment ended.

Once smooth, milky skin chipped away like paint. It curled up, flaking off and floating away in the night breeze. From the cracks sprouted nauseatingly pink skin, fresh and sickening. The rest of Cinderella's skin peeled back until she was nothing but a pile of mushy pink goo. The prince's hand was uncomfortably warm and felt as if it was stuck in a bowl of half-formed jello.

Prince John stumbled, falling onto his butt on the cold forest floor.

Slowly, Cinderella's skin gained angry red blotches. They turned into a dark purple, the kind you see on serious bruises, before sprouting thick hairs. Her black hairs grew longer and longer until they were patches of rough, black fur in a sea of pink and purple. Cinderella's neck snapped backward, and her stormy gray eyes bore into the prince's. The skin around her jaw stretched like gum until finally snapping and opening her mouth all the way back to her ears. Unnatural screams fell from her chipping lips, eventually turning into terrifying squeaks as she grew a snout.

Crooked, yellow incisors glinted in the moonlight as the transformation continued.

Suddenly turning silent, Cinderella bent backward until her shoulders barely hovered above the forest floor. Her bright eyes bugged out of her head as red veins traveled toward her pupils. One by one, her eyelashes fell off, as if they had never been there in the first place. Blood and puss streaked her cheeks as the red veins encased her whole eye.

Cinderella stood up, turning towards the prince with bloodthirst.

Prince John opened his mouth - to scream in horror, call for help, something- but nothing came out. The cry was stuck in his throat, burning hotter than a raging flame.

Before him stood his precious love, a monster, a pile of rats. The rats writhed and squirmed on top of each other, squeaking their fury and biting the tails off the ones in front of them. Every few moments a dead rat would fall to the floor, missing its stomach or head or eyes.

A dark chuckle came from the mass of trees, followed by a sharp whistle.

Phuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuu...

All but two rats scurried away, nipping at Prince John's fingers and toes.

"Jaq! Gus Gus, come!"

The last two rats scrambled onto their master's shoulders, who was nothing but a black silhouette. Prince John scrambled to his feet, peering into the darkness. He tried to say something strong and brave, something a prince should say, but only an embarrassing wheeze came out. The figure moved closer, chuckling.

"Ahhh has a cat, caught your tongue dear prince? Or should I say rat!"

Finding his voice, the prince squared his shoulders.

"W-What have you done to my maiden?"

Bwahaha!

"Oh John, don't you see? Your girl was nothing but a bit of magic."

"Only royal families have access to magical properties and spells!"

The figure shrugged, jostling Jaq and Gus Gus. They squeaked angrily and bit his ear. Prince John watched as blood slowly stained the rats' fur. 

"A fairy godmother owed us a favor, and they never turn back on their word."

"Us?"

Despite the lighting, Prince John knew the figure was smiling. He could feel the cold shivers it gave him.

"But of course, the Kingdom Of Chaujar can't travel alone."

The prince cursed under his breath. The Kingdom Of Chaujar had been a fearful enemy of theirs for years, ever since his great-great-great-grandmother ordered the king's son executed for thievery. Bedtime stories told of snatching children from beds, creatures who ate the bones of men, and husbands who drank their wives' blood. Even the women carried rusted daggers by their breasts and chanted curses in the air. 

No doubt, he thought, the legends are true.

Trees and bushes rustled all around the prince, revealing swarms of Chaujarans. Prince John couldn't see their faces or clothing, but that didn't matter. The swords and axes glinting in the moonlight said enough.

The mysterious figure, obviously the leader, placed his hands behind his back as he circled the prince.

"I suppose we could leave you like this. After all, one can't survive long with a broken heart."

The men laughed as they saw the prince wince at the mention of Cinderella.

"...but what fun would that be?"

The prince grit his teeth as he stood tall.

Inside, he was broken. Everything he thought he knew and loved was gone. He had nothing waiting for him in the castle. More than once the thought of letting these men do what they want occurred to Prince John, but he couldn't. There were lives out there that depended on him; children that were promised a better future when he became King. He had to survive. It didn't matter what he wanted.

So he did what he had done since he could talk. He shoved everything down and pretended to be okay because when you're a royal, you don't have the time to be emotional. Your life must continue through the misery and pain for your people, not you. 

Prince John pulled out the small dagger he always kept in his boot, waving it around for all to see.

"If you want me barbarians, you'll have to take me down fighting."

The air grew tense as the bandits waited for their leader to make a decision.  When he finally did speak, everything became a great blur.

"For King Zacharias!"

Men yelled and screamed their families' names as they ran to the prince from all sides. Prince John stabbed and swung around as often as he could, taking out three or four men. His body was littered with scratches and bleeding wounds, but he kept fighting. A few of the bandits drew back to restock their weapons, but in the dim light of the moon, they were struck down in hopes they were the prince.

Blood seeped into the dirt, splattering on tree trunks and the men's faces. The man in the moon looked down on the scene, anguish and horror etched on his face.

In the distance, a young boy turned around as he heard screams. After getting the attention of the four men in front of him, they ran with all their might to the bloodbath. But they would be too late.

Prince John staggered to his feet, breathing heavily as the weight of his dagger seemed to drag him down. Around him lay at least ten dead with their eyes locked on the stars above. The remaining five slinked away in the night.

Cowards, the prince thought, they can't even finish their battles.

Too focused on the ache in his bones and heart, Prince John didn't see the rats circling him. He didn't see the bandit leader watching from the safety of the trees. And soon, he didn't see anything.

The young boy at the front of the group turned dead white at the sight before him. Grumbling and laughing at his stupidity, the men behind him pushed forward. Eyes rolled to the back of their heads, hands shook, breaths were stolen, and a few even lost their lunches.

For standing before them was the prince, pinned to a tree trunk like a reminder on your bulletin. His chocolate brown locks were matted down with blood, his hands bled from their missing fingers, and his torso was torn open while his guts swayed in the breeze from the single strand they hung by.

But his face was the worst.

Deep, terrible scratches littered his cheeks and forehead, and in some places, white bone glinted from beneath all the torn muscle and bloody skin. The prince's ears were cut off in little bits and placed in his mouth to make it seem like he was smiling. And his eyes, oh his beautiful emerald eyes. They were gone. Torn from their sockets and leaving behind disgustingly pink and black strings of muscle that stretched all the way down to his freckled nose.

The men tried gathering their wits for the kingdom would inevitably refuse to believe them without proof.

Perched in the canopy above, four beady red eyes watched as the search party carried their precious prince home.