"Mirror, mirror on the wall who's the fairest of them all?"

The very words Cecilia had treasured since her mother's death; the words she used to softly sing whilst brushing Cecilia's long, luscious hair came back with razor sharp teeth dripping in Cecilia's own naïve blood to rip her very heart out.

They say you take pictures of the thing you are most frightened to lose. Have a scroll through your phone- see if it's true. Cecilia's phone was full of selfies. Selfie after selfie after selfie. She sometimes took hundreds; almost all of them identical, but she wanted the picture perfect image- the picture perfect life to show her online followers. That face that she loved. That face that she treasured and planned to preserve with years and years of magic. (Of course there is no magic, by magic, dear reader, I am referring to the magic of cutting off sections of your skin and reapplying it, breaking your bones then remodelling them or injecting foreign poison in your body, it works like magic! Why wouldn't you deform and break your body into a thousand pieces- in the name of beauty?)

Looking in that mirror her heart sunk to the ground. Her skin- once clear and flawless- was now red raw. It oozed with blood and scars and flesh. Her nose- her surgeon spent years perfecting that ski-slope nose- was gone. She now had two small slits- Cecilia noted that she looked like Voldemort after a tragic accident. (Ever the observant bitch, even after her own tragic kidnapping.)

"Why?" was all she could utter to whisper- her whole body was numb and shivered from the shock.

"Now everyone will see what's inside."

He smiled at her, cunningly.

He lent forward and added, "I still think you're- remarkable- as you put it."

She looked again at the gold mirror, but this time at the frame; engraved around the edge was a sentence in beautiful cursive hand writing. She squinted and quietly read out loud: "Beauty is in the eye of the beholder: so look carefully at what you see."

Cecilia felt the venom rise through her, her whole body shook in anger, anticipation and something that felt like excitement.

"You watch," she spat at the withered, disgusting, troll, "I will be beautiful again. The most beautiful woman alive. I will be the fairest woman of them all. And you will never stop me."

The dark cloak dropped and before Cecilia stood a handsome, man holding a large axe. The huntsman.