Film Tales of a Twisted Disney

Discussion in 'Written Works' started by Magick, Oct 15, 2015.

  1. Magick ~Meaner then my demons~

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    Otherwise known as Magick's Creepy Disney Stories. So enjoy! Comment with a request if you desire! And worship @Maka Albarn for the art!

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    Frozen
    The girl sat. She was alone in her room, just like every other day. Outside she could hear the sounds of her sister skipping through the halls, singing some nursery ryhme. Her parents had walked to and fro in those halls, before their ship had been lost at sea. The bodies were never recovered, and the girl often wondered if they had actually died. Perhaps they were out there still, trying to find a way back home.


    It was a comforting thought, but one that didn't hold much basis in reality. They had hated her, always hated her. She hated them too, because despite the lack of their presence, she couldn't bring herself to leave this room. Day after day was spent in isolation. She would read through books in a week, and have to send for new ones to be brought. She tried her hand at painting, but it wasn't in her regime of talents, it seemed. One day, she would run out of books.


    Her sister passed by now. The footsteps fell silent as they neared the girl's door, and she held her breath. Perhaps today would be the day her sister was brave enough to enter. But no, just like every other day, the footsteps began to pass, the song resuming as it echoed through the halls. The girl slumped in her chair, the customary disappointment filling her heart as she looked down at her hands. They are bare now, the gloves discarded on the floor. She hated them too. Hated the color, hated the feel, hated everything about them. They were a restriction, a reminder that she wasn't anything like anyone else. That she was a monster.


    She glanced back out the single window that lit up her solitary prison, staring down at the townspeople. They would want her to rule them one day. Those poor people. They had no idea she still existed as a shadow amongst the portraits and paintings and silk. She pitied them for their ignorance.


    One more year. One more year and she could free herself from this palace. A smile curved her lips at the thought, and ice began to trickle through the air, spidering from her fingers up towards the ceiling. She let it go, watching the crystals of frozen water dance as they lifted higher and higher. One more year. Then she could make her parents pay. The innocents would suffer, yes. Her sister would suffer, oh yes. But for the satisfying prize of revenge? She would pay any price.


    She smiled wider now, humming gently to herself as she looked back out the window, ice crackling as it began to cover the fragile glass, and the room grew cold. "Do you want to build a snowman?" She asked softly, before twisting her hand in a sharp gesture. The glass cracked, and shattered.


    Why wait a year?
     
  2. Vladimir Makarov Gummi Ship Junkie

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    Could you maybe do Finding Nemo?
     
  3. Magick ~Meaner then my demons~

    Joined:
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    I'll work on Finding Nemo next. Also, please don't progress through the spoiler unless you are ready for the PG-13 content. It's graphic and gory and this is your warning. It's gonna get worse from here on out. For now, here's

    Mulan
    The figure stole between the tents. Swift as the coursing river. A black shadow, creeping from the illumination of the lamp back into the dark. The freedom had done more to reveal the hypocrisy of the figure's previous life then anything else that had been thrown down. The matchmaker, the dresses, the make up, everything had been to make the perfect bride. Something that would never be.


    Slipping in between the flaps of the tent, the figure gently released the sword with a nearly silent hiss. The trainee never stood a chance, his cry of alarm muffled as the shadow used the force of the typhoon to bring the sword down, slicing into his chest cavity with near perfection. As blood spilled and muscle tore, the figure reflected that the mentor of this would have been proud. But he had yet to witness the refinement of the technique that had been passed from his father to him, and now the shadow.


    Be a man. He would have said to the soldier who was now writhing in death throes on the ground. Die with honor. The soldier had already wet himself, there was no honor to be had. Quick work was made, and before long, the parts that would have given him honor were no longer attached to his body. The figure left them next to him, already setting sights on the next tent.

    Each trainee fell with ease, before having their genitals removed and set aside. Be a man.


    It had been so hard. Trying to fit in, trying to keep the secret. Well, now the secret could come out. What a man was would be redefined. With all the strength of a raging fire. The counciler's tent was second to last. He had long gone to bed, his tall hat resting in its honorary table next to his bed. When the figure left him, intestines trailing over the bed, the hat turned upside down and resting on his crotch. A joke for what he would never be able to compensate for.


    The last tent was still illuminated by lamp light. He was waiting, when the shadow entered. The fight was quick, but nowhere near the clean kills that had been performed prior. He was good, too good, and stabbed through the shadow through the side. Be a man. The final thrust cut him through the throat. He fell to his knees, gurgling as one hand grasped uselessly at the torn flesh to stop the river of blood that spilled onto the ground. The figure watched him, impassive, before sweeping the family sword to the side, and cleanly cutting off his head.


    A momento, to so the family would know what had been done. Grasping the head by the hair, the figure raised it to stare into the lifeless eyes before planting a gentle kiss on the not yet cold lips.

    "Be a man." she whispered, her short hair brushing her cheek as she exited the tent. Her horse, black as night, stirred restlessly as she tied the head to the side of the saddle and pulled herself up. The dragon, a figment of her desperate imagination made real, crawled onto her shoulder, its tongue flicking her ear. "Good." It whispered, tail brushing against her neck. "You've saved us all."


    She had, hadn't she? By turning them into women, she had made a better life for the females waiting back home. Now they would never be taken advantage of, never have to perform for their husbands. Matter of fact, she highly doubted they would ever have to cook for a man ever again. She clicked her tongue to Khan, and mysterious as the dark side of the moon, disappeared into the snowy night.


    "Thanks, Mushu."
     
  4. Magick ~Meaner then my demons~

    Joined:
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    Finding Nemo


    He had traveled through oceans, across vast distances and through dangers his tiny mind had never dreamed of. All for this. The fish swam through the waving wands of the anemone, fins fluttering in the waves created by the ever moving current of the ocean. He felt, rather then heard, the entrance of his son. His only son.


    "I like Nemo." The voice of his past mate seemed to echo around their small, coral colored home. Or perhaps it was the recesses of his mind. He could never tell. "Welcome home, Nemo." To his fishy ears, his voice didn't sound strange, didn't reflect the way he felt.


    "Um...Dad? You sound a little funny. Are you getting sick? Cuz Mister Ray has this great cure for colds and-"


    "I'm not sick." Try as he might, he couldn't sense the difference. Perhaps it took a pair of outside ears. Ears that hadn't heard his voice in a while.

    "I'm different. The journey changed me, Nemo. I understand now."


    Marlin turned to face the younger clownfish. "I was too hard on you, but it was for your own good. You see....we complete each other. We're meant for each other."


    Nemo looked uncomfortabley from side to side before settling on a forced laugh. "Okay dad, very funny. Where's the joke?"


    Marlin couldn't help but smile fondly. So young still, and so naive. But Nemo would learn. Nature was forcing Marlin's hand, so it wasn't really his fault, was it? "Nemo, you'll understand in time."


    He swam closer, forcing Nemo to back up to the wall of anemones. "Don't worry. Daddy's here."


    Nemo made some sort of noise, his misshapen fin working overtime to keep his body aloft. Together, they would rebuild the family.


    "Daddy's here."

    @Vladimir Makarov