The Demon in the Stepmother – A Dark Retelling of Courage and Deceit

The night I fled my family’s castle, the forest of Cinder stood before me like the mouth of a great, hungry beast. I was only eighteen, trembling with exhaustion and fear, but the wickedness I left behind was far worse than anything I could imagine in the woods.

The silence of the forest was unnerving. My footsteps echoed unnaturally through the thick, damp air. I had run from wealth, from arranged nobility, and most of all, from the marriage my mother had forced upon me. The man she had chosen was cruel. I had pleaded with her, showing bruises and tears, but she only spat in disgust.

“Stop whining. You’re to be his wife, like it or not.”

That night, with nothing but a small satchel and stubborn hope, I escaped into the forest. They said demons lived in Cinder. That no soul who entered ever returned. But I would rather face demons than live unloved in a gilded prison.

As I walked, images of a loving man danced in my thoughts. Not a prince or lord, but someone who would hold me with gentleness, who would see me as more than a name on parchment. I craved real love—something untouched by greed or power.

Suddenly, drums echoed through the trees, low and rhythmic like a heartbeat. My body froze, and fear slid down my spine. The stories were true. The forest was alive with watchers.

Then a voice—soft and lilting—rose from the shadows.

“Ah, dear child, how kind of you to visit my home.”

“Who are you?” I called out, scanning the dark.

“I am here, sweet one. Look at the oak you cling to.”

A carved face smiled from the bark, alive with wrinkled warmth. I screamed and stumbled backward.

“There are terrors in this forest,” the face warned. “You must be pure if you wish to survive.”

I gritted my teeth and rose. “I’ve faced terrors already. You don’t know what I’ve run from.”

The face chuckled. “There is always a way through… if your heart is true.”

Frustrated, I left the talking tree behind, stomping deeper into the unknown.

A House of Gold and Ash

Further in, a strange rustling startled me. I turned—and a small man with golden eyes and wild hair stood at my feet.

“I have a cottage beyond those pines,” he offered cheerfully. “Come live with me! I have gold, warmth, and all the safety you could dream of.”

The temptation was strong. Safety. Comfort. Security. But then I remembered my reason for leaving: I wasn’t searching for riches—I was searching for myself.

“No, thank you,” I said gently. “I’m not looking for gold. I want love, not luxury.”

His cheerful grin twisted. He began to melt—his skin sloughing off to reveal a hideous demon, eyes glowing red with rage.

“You dare refuse me?! Who doesn’t desire wealth?!”

He roared and flailed, blinded by fury. I used the moment to escape, sprinting through twisted roots and hanging vines. My heart pounded, but I didn’t look back.

The Beautiful Lie

I tripped over a hidden root and hit the ground hard. My legs ached, my breath was ragged, but before I could rise, a strong hand lifted me. A man, tall and stunningly handsome, smiled down at me. His voice was soft velvet.

“I saw you fall. Let me help you.”

Grateful, I smiled, heart fluttering. But then he said, “I need a wife. Come live with me in my castle, just beyond those black thorn bushes.”

I hesitated. He was perfect, yet… it was too soon. Something felt wrong.

“I’m sorry,” I whispered. “You’re kind, but I cannot say yes to someone I do not love.”

In an instant, his beautiful face contorted, melting away to reveal yet another demon, spitting fire and fury into the sky.

Twice now, I had nearly been trapped. Twice I had chosen truth. And so, again, I ran.

The Final Deception

As dawn approached, I saw the first warm light of Grimmland—my homeland—peeking over the trees. I was nearly free.

Then came a scream.

I froze. Another cry. It came from off the path. Every instinct screamed to ignore it—but I couldn’t leave someone behind.

I found a young girl, bleeding by a stream.

“I was running from a demon,” she sobbed. “Please help me.”

“Let’s get you out of here. Grimmland is close,” I said.

“No, wait! My sisters are fetching water. Carry me to them?”

Confused, I obeyed, lifting her carefully. Two girls crouched by the stream looked up as we approached.

“Sisters, look! This kind girl helped me,” the injured girl grinned.

Something felt wrong. Before I could speak, the girl in my arms stood upright—completely unharmed—and gripped my head with her small hands.

“Teufel im Inneren,” she whispered.

And just like that, I felt myself slipping.

A Prison of Flesh

She entered my body—her soul fusing with mine. I was still alive, still conscious—but trapped, watching helplessly through my own eyes as the demon took over.

She walked me out of the forest, her “sisters” following. In the nearest town, we found a wealthy man. With my stolen voice and youthful face, she wooed him. He fell in love with her mask—my mask—and gave her a ring.

Now I sit in a new home, watching through stolen eyes as she and her “daughters” plot to build a new life. She uses my body like a costume, a tool.

I am a prisoner of my own kindness.

Moral of the Story:

True evil often wears the mask of charm and beauty. Trust your heart, but protect your soul—for even compassion can be a weapon in the hands of the wicked.