This was something I started as a weekly tidbit.

The wind blew through the grass, creating the illusion that snakes slithered through Snow White’s yard. A fair maiden of pale skin, brown eyes, and black hair skipped through the high grass. The green weed tickled the chin of Snow White and she laughed. Her father called to her in his strong, deep voice.
“Snow! Snow, come here!”
Snow ignored her father as she smiled and frolicked in the sun.
“Snow!” This time the voice was more urgent. Snow came running to her father.
The events that came next Snow did not immediately understand. She was young and innocent back then. But now she understood everything. Everything was dripping with blood. Everything created anger.
Snow ran to the tree her father was lying under, taking out a vial as she did. Her stepmother had convinced her to take her father’s medicine. She said it needed safe guarding. But now she understood.
Her father was a sickly shade of green. “My medicine,” he said to White in a shaking voice.
“H-here father,” said she, hands trembling with childish fear. Her vibrating hands fumbled and the vial shattered on the ground.
“Father?” said Snow White in a small voice.
“It is okay child. Don’t cry. Do not cry.” He wiped the tears from her eyes with ever soft and comforting hands. “You are destined for great things my love. You will be queen one day and you will make me proud.” Then he died.
Looking back on the day, 20 years later in her hut, hiding from the queen, she only had rage on her mind and the determination to topple the queen. She killed her father. And now the true ruler’s dying wish must be White’s final command. She would be queen, not Veronica.
Snow heard a noise outside of her hut. She peered out of the window, locating the source of the noise. It was a hunter, one of Veronica's servants out to kill her. Snow silently cursed. If they discovered that this was her hideout she would have to move. And the dwarves could be in potential danger as well. Snow thought hard. This hut wasn't charted on the official maps of the Kingdom of Camelot. It would definitely be investigated. Perhaps she should leave to spare the dwarves of any trouble regarding association to her. It was the only thing left to her to do. But how would she leave. The huntsman was in sight of the only exit. The door was locked but it was likely the hunter would bust through the door. She could hide but the home did not provide great hiding spots and she could be found. There was only one other option. Run. Snow braced herself as she accepted the idea. It wasn't appealing to her. But little choice was left. The hunter seemed to be without bow. On further investigation Snow's keen mind realized that his knives would make very poor throwing weapons. They weren't the right build. She would have to chance at fleeing. She ducked low as she crept to the door. She wanted to provide no advantage to the hunter and sight at pre run would definitely give him preparation. Once in the forest Snow knew she would have the upper hand. She knew the Applewood Forest like the back of her hand. Hopefully she would be able to lose him. He was big and while muscular didn't seem fast. Of course as White knew looks were often deceiving. Snow looked wimpy but she was an excellent swordsman and fighter. Years of training also gave her skill with a bow. She prepared herself, took in a deep breath, and bolted out the door.


The Dark Mistress smiled as she finished her long project. Finally the Sword was complete. Now no one would be able to doubt her magical power and intelligence. She had finally created the world’s greatest weapon; Excalibur, invincible to all, destroyer of every foe. No weakness would be detected in this design. In fact it was too perfect.
A week after the creation of the blade the Dark Mistress received a prophecy through a dream. A voice in a forest declared, “Heroes and villains will come together as the world they know begins to untether.” The sky grew dark. The wind rustled the leaves. Color drained from the world. Dark laughter resonated throughout the land. Suddenly a hand appeared from the sky, massive, black as night, and holding between its fingers the sword of Excalibur. The sword caught fire and the nearest trees burst into flames. The fire spread at an unnatural rate, consuming everything. The Dark Mistress screamed as she was licked by the hot energy, her body becoming ash. The world lost shape and became a pile, a pile that the hand molded into who knows what.
The Dark Mistress woke to find herself shivering and panting in a cold sweat. Her tongue felt like a desert night, cold and dry. She calmed herself down. The Sword would have to be destroyed.
Of course that was an impossibility. The weapon was indestructible. That left only the option of locking it up. The Dark Mistress wasn’t sure if there was a place safe enough to keep an object like this but there was nothing but to try. Otherwise the world’s destruction would begin. The Dark Mistress got up from her bed and walked to her desk. She would need to begin plans right away. She had created an invincible blade. Now she would need to create the perfect holding site.