Rosalyn opened the door to stop the persistent knocking. She stared for a moment at the tall, blonde woman on the other side of the doorway.

Rosalyn smiled, "How may I help you?"

"I'm Gwen Travers. I'm here to speak with Charles Montgomery. Is he here?"

"Yes," Rosalyn smiled wider. "I'm Rosalyn Wilson, by the way. Please come in."

Gwen walked into the huge house and almost gaped. Rosalyn caught herself from laughing. "Yes, It is a big house, isn't it? Sometimes I need a map to get around this place."

Gwen followed her down the hallway. The once home had been converted into an institution. "So", Gwen said. "You work here."

"No, I'm just a volunteer. I'm too young to work here, only 16. When you said you wanted to talk to Charles, I have to say I was excited. He is a magnificent storyteller. But you're here to figure out why a 44-year old billionaire starts to tell everyone he's the man who killed Snow White."

"Yes, that is the story. So do you have any ideas as to why he started to?"

"He told me he was tired of being the man who killed Snow White."

Gwen stared at her, "What?"

"Don't worry. He'll tell you the story like he told the others. I just hope you actually listen. Hm, here we are." She opened the door to Room 57. The room was large with high ceilings and expensive furniture, sitting on an Italian leather couch reading a leather-bound book in dim light was a middle-aged man. He looked up as he finished the paragraph he was on. "Mr. Montgomery, another nosy reporter is here to see you."

A slight upper class British accent could be heard, "Thank you, Rosalyn."

"I'll leave you two alone. Knock when you're ready to leave."

Gwen looked around and noticed a painting hanging on the wall, "Interesting, who painted it?"

He moved beside her, "Rosalyn did. It really is very true to life." The painting was of a hunter holding the heart of a beautiful dead woman. He had an expression of pure enjoyment on his face and a blood covered dagger in his hand.

Gwen couldn't help but shiver, now that she saw it up close.

"I will tell you what I told all the others, the true story of Snow White. Please sit." He guided her to a matching leather loveseat and took his place on the couch. "The only part the brothers Grimm ever got right was the beginning and maybe now the end." Gwen took out a tape recorder and set it on the coffee table in between them as Charles started. "Snow White was born in a time of magic, where the body of the person contained magic and it was wild and unpredictable."

"One day, the Queen pricked her finger while sewing and a drop of blood fell on the pure white snow on her windowsill. She watched the blood stain the snow and thought it was the most beautiful thing she had ever seen. At that moment, she wished aloud for a daughter of the purest white skin, blood red lips, and hair so black the night would be envious. Soon afterward, the child, Snow White, was born. Her mother died during the birth."

"Only months after, my queen met and married the king. My queen was enchanted with Snow White. She treated her like her own, but my beautiful queen loved her unsurpassed beauty more than little Snow White. One day, my queen who had been married to the king for 16 years, went to her magic mirror and said, 'Mirror, Mirror, on the wall, who 'tis fairest of them all?' The mirror replied almost fearfully, 'While you are a beauty true. Young Snow White 'tis fairest of all.'"

"My queen went into a rage and that day while Snow White picked flowers in the woods, she sent me to kill her. I hunted her, cutting her heart from her chest and took her shining heart back to my queen. Her heart was a pure thing, my Majesty kept it in a glass case in the center of her mirror room and would glaze upon it for hours."

"Back in the forest, just hours after her death, Snow White's still warm body was happened upon by a little dwarf with six brothers. The dwarf, upon seeing the bloody hole in her chest, ran to his brothers. The seven dwarves returned to where the girl was and readily recognized her as Princess Snow White. Afraid that the creatures of the woods would be blamed for the death of the beloved princess should she ever be found, so they buried her in a cavern in a coffin of ice."

"There, the princess stayed for three years with her frozen beauty. As time passed, the king grew ill with his loss. People forgot of fair Snow White, expect for a prince of unknown power in a neighboring kingdom who had seen Snow White but once."

"When the king died, my queen immediately entered into negotiations with the prince for marriage. The prince accepted on the grounds he would be allowed to rule as he saw fit. My queen agreed to the condition because she knew she could control the young prince."

"So a date was set for the wedding and as the prince was traveling to the kingdom, fate decided to intervene. The prince became lost in the woods. He stumbled upon a cave where he and his party felt safe to spend the night. Now I will say the prince's peculiar power was that of the dead. To be sure the power was rare and incredibly hard to control but he learned young to exercise adequate control. As he lay in the dark with his band of guards, he felt the call of death in the cave. He traveled back into the darkness and soon was running as the call became stronger. The corridor widen into a cavern and in the center was a coffin of ice which contained a woman."

Gwen broke her silence and in awe said, "Snow White."

Charles smiled, "Yes, Snow White. The prince was overjoyed at the sight. He ran back for his guards. The guards carried the ice coffin, and the perfectly preserved body of Snow White, into the wondrous warm of the summer woods. The ice melted and seeped into the ground. I know the most incredible wildflowers still grow there. The prince's power, which had been building since the first call of death, had finally overridden him and poured into Snow White. Once the power was gone, the prince fell unconscious."

"Without anyone to control the princess corpse, she ran with furied speed toward her shining pure heart. Finding her stepmother staring trance like at the shining, beating thing in the center of her mirror room, Snow White's fury fell on her stepmother, the woman who ordered her death. When the prince woke, he was called to the newly raised princess. He found her clutching her dead, still, rotting heart to her chest, crying with her torn apart stepmother covering the room. The prince never left Snow White until his death. By then, Snow White was much the person she once had been only now immortal, much like myself."

Gwen stared at him dumbly, "You expect people to believe that really happened, Mr. Montgomery."

"Yes."

"Fine. Fine. But that doesn't explain why now."

"Because now is when Snow White asked me to tell her story."

"Why here in a mental institution of all places?"

"So she would be sure I would tell the whole, true story."

Gwen frowned. "You're insane," she stated matter of factly. She stood. "What a waste of time," she mumbled, knocking on the door.

Rosalyn opened it, "How was it?"

"Unreal," Gwen said sarcastically.

"I'll lead you out," Rosalyn was frowning, full blood-red lips turned down, long jet black hair swaying gently with the breeze from open windows and white skin gleaming like it had never seen sun. She opened the front door, looked at Gwen, "You're like all the others. You never pay attention." And she shut the door.