The Asylum for Fairy-Tale Creatures Read Online Free PDF

to a man and was distantly familiar. It was muffled.
    “Do you remember that name?”
    “Yes,” the girl replied.
    “Why? Why did you choose that name?”
    “Because of the red from Grandma, and…”
    “And?”
    “And the wolf.”
    “No, not the wolf. There was no wolf, was there?” The voice sounded irritated.
    “That’s not true,” the girl pleaded. “I saw it. I saw what it did.”
    “Think, girl. I have been treating you for once upon a time ; events may seem muddled to you. But remember back. You are very stubborn. Your delusion is very, very strong. You need to realise that there was no wolf and then I can release you. Your delusion will be gone. You will be free.”
    The girl sobbed an angry, frustrated sob. Had fate not given her enough suffering? Losing a father to waste, a grandma to death and a mother taken by uncontrollable sadness, was this not enough? The girl’s memory did not reveal the secrets of the room or what treatment she had received. The voice was familiar and, oh, how tempting its offer. But every instinct in her body was telling her not to trust it.
    “I went into the woods, to Grandma’s house.”
    “Yes?”
    “I remember the cottage, so quiet, so dark.”
    “And?”
    “I crept in gently and found Grandma in bed.”
    “Is that when you took her life?” The voice dripped with anticipation.
    The girl took a deep breath and screamed at the top of her lungs: “It was a wolf and it wasn’t a wolf all at once.”
    “How disappointing.” And from out of the shadow stepped the voice. It wore a gas mask and peered at the girl through glass sphere eyes. The mask nodded to something beyond the girl. Her head was caught between two gloved hands. Her head was strapped to the table and a bit was tied to her mouth. A humming noise filled the air and the hairs on her head and arms tickled. Someone applied wet rags to either temple that were so cold she shuddered as each was applied.
    “Amazing piece of technology, my machine. I invented it myself,” the mask said proudly. “It harnesses electricity, which seeks out the madness running around inside you. Now, I am not going to lie—this will hurt. But afterwards you may just be all better.”
    The hum grew louder and louder as the girl kept fighting against her bonds, until at the crescendo of the noise electricity was released and, although the feeling was almost indescribable, it was not unlike the girl’s soul shattering, as if it were a glass slipper.
    The office of Dr Wilhelm Jacob Grimm was a dingy, crowded place. His large wooden desk was surrounded by towers of parchments, each with scribbles and sketches. There were shelves and bookcases on every wall. Each containing a morbid assortment of brains in jars floating in a green haze. There were shrivelled and shrunken limbs and thick leather-skin-bound books. There were skulls of animals and animal people, each of differing shape and size. The corpse of a dried alligator was suspended by string from the ceiling, watching through hollowed eyes. In pride of place, just behind the doctor’s large velvet red chair, was his glass cabinet. Inside, contained by lock and key, were the prizes taken from the asylum’s guests. A pipe confiscated from the Pied Piper, Rapunzel’s hair—curled in a ball, it slithered now and then. A broken glass slipper next to a broken wand. A spinning-wheel needle, three porridge bowls, one big, one small, one just right. Other trinkets, dancing slippers, pieces of string, a tatty toy monkey, a dried rose, a pail for water, a broken eggshell, all so normal, all so sinister.
    The Mother May I led the three into the office. She curtsied to the man in the chair and left, still grinning her horrible grin. The bear held on tighter to the girl and even Thumbeana, who could find fascination in a hillside of corpses, looked nervous after her trip through the asylum. She squeezed the girl’s hand. The girl herself had always been taught to face fear. Her