Stories Not for Children

Ever wondered what like The Real Stories for Children was?
For example The story of Sleeping Beauty?…
Well…Not so beautiful and bright we may say…

The three Brothers and the golden apple

 

   ‘Why do they make their kind, anyway?’ he meant creatures like the giant on the ground outside, ‘What’s the use of them, what are they good for?’ he shrugged as if he was having a conversation with somebody.

He stopped reasoning because he tripped over some big shield. He fell flat on the ground clumsily. Cursing even more, he got up and lifted the shield. The cave was too dark for him to see anything. That was fine; he was going to examine it outside. Now he was looking for something specific. He found it in a minute. A cast-iron bed with some wooden parts. It was quite large, but the stranger knew it was as light as a feather, because it wasn’t made by human hands. In a moment of creative confusion some demigod had made it in a hurry. He grabbed it by its side and started dragging it. He placed the shield on top. He pushed the bed outside the cave. The iron bed fell on the ground with a bang. The stranger jumped after it with ease. He put the bed on its feet and hauled it to the giant who was now snoring loudly. The man came back for the shield. Its front side had mirror surface.

   ‘Let’s hope it doesn’t belong to whom I think it belongs!’ he grumbled under his nose.

He examined the shield carefully. Inside, at the bottom, tiny beautiful golden letters read ‘Theseus’. The stranger shook his head mournfully:

    ‘The poor guy!’

Then he looked at the giant angrily:

   ‘Death is not enough for you!’

He went to his horse and took out some long and tight rope from the saddle. He threw one of the ends around a steady branch of the tree nearby and tied the other one to the horse saddle. He looked at the giant and grinned nastily.

On the following day a caravan of travelers stopped astonished at a large crossroad. It was right on the way from the capital city to the big market place. Right in the middle of the crossroads there was this large cast-iron bed with a couple of strange mechanisms in both ends. A giant was lying flat on the bed, his legs wide apart, screaming for help. He was naked from the waist down. There was a wooden board above his head, fixed to the bed, which read in big red letters: “Procrustes. Have your way with him and don’t ask questions!’ Somebody has already left some gold coins next to the giant’s ass.