Twisted tales of Three Little Pigs (Opening)

My mother lost herself to the Nocturnal Beast at cards.1

Stark naked, with the Beast's savage paws groping; ripping ; stretching her pink, fleshy skin - all three of us were thrown out of his gothic palace of eternal damnation. Before our lives were thrown into a world of grotesqueness and sadness, let me cherished my mere memories.2

We were from a Southern Country - a blessed plot, where the sun spilled food for you. My divorce mother, ah, she used to splendour my two sisters and I like sweets. Until she met this count. A scarred count. He took us away from our summer paradise to a snowy regime. Beauty in the land of the lifeless, he noted. We lived in the castle of darkness, that even in midday, spirits of shadow lingered on anything visible. I was confused, before realizing we were forever tangled in the labyrinth of gloominess. My innocent mother was too late to recognize, she was the count's sacrifice - of lost poker games. The next moment, we were banished and our mother his slave of deathly practices. 3

Midwinter swept as away. This was a northern country, I muttered. Cold; tempest; motionless, we strolled on, attempting to find our way in this twisted maze of sheer horror. Abandoned, we saw a trail of blood and dead corpse pierced by fangs, lying on the white snow. 4

'There must be some life, let's follow the blood stains.' My sister said.5

We began walking. It was nearly twilight. Snow was falling on the Ice Queen's regime. A sequence of ravens - their assortment of shadowy, darkened feathers flied across this realm of isolation. Every chant they roared, demonic monsters stabbed my heart with pangs of fear. I was shivering as they scattered strangeness into the motionless, yet miraculously clean land.6

My sisters, however, shone under the white grounds as if their heartbeats were filled with elixirs of hope. But mine - chilled with pangs of frustration and bleeding as if experiencing eternal grieving. My fragile heart was soon to shatter.7

'Look at those adoring ravens! We should walk in the same direction, they always need to feast on something alive.' My other sister yelled with joy. 8

We continued our journey. Just ourselves, not even a single tinge of life. Hungry. Banished. Tired. It was almost midnight. Midwinter and midnight - merciless, malicious, mournful. Stranded, we resembled a threesome of frozen roses, their live sslowly drifting away from the empire of dead souls. Yet , when we were running out of hope - the sight of an enormous chateau drew us near...9