A Collection of Folk Tales
Creative Writing, Fiction, Writing

A Collection of Folk Tales

The Fantasy Literature class recently wrapped up a unit on classic fantasy, which included studies of folk tales and fairy tales. For an artistic response prompt, students were asked to write mock-ups of modernized short stories inspired by classic folk tales such as “The Stubborn Child” by The Brothers Grimm. The class collectively decided on 20 different traits that commonly appear in fantasy characters, such as greed, lust, jealousy etc., and then each student rolled a 20-sided die to determine which they would base their story on. These are some of the responses:

Once upon a time there was a farmer who was neither rich nor poor, but still managed to be happy. His wife had died in childbirth, and so he lived alone with his three sons. The younger two brothers, Little Kyle and Middle Kyle, were good and hardworking, content in their lots, but the eldest brother, Big Kyle, was jealous and always wanted more than he had. When the farmer was very old, he lay on his deathbed and called his sons to him.

“Boys,” he said. “You are dear to me and I know you will prosper well after I am gone. I only wish that you share my land equally, so that you are all provided for in my absence. I wish for Little Kyle to care for the sheep, Middle Kyle for the cows, and you, Big Kyle, can care for the land. May you be kind to each other.” Then he closed his mouth, shut his eyes and slipped back into his creator’s arms. Little and Middle Kyle cried and rubbed their eyes in grief, but Big Kyle was too preoccupied with jealousy to grieve for his father. He thought it was unfair that Little Kyle got their father’s sheep and Middle Kyle got his cows, and he, the eldest, received nothing but their father’s land! After they buried and mourned their father, the three boys went to sleep. Big Kyle stayed up for hours after his brothers had shut their eyes, plotting his jealous revenge. 

The next morning, before either Little Kyle or Middle Kyle were awake, Big Kyle arose and drove his brothers’ sheep and cattle into the woods behind their farm. He tied them to the trees so they would stay there until he returned. Middle Kyle awoke next. He looked all over for his cows, but could not find hide nor hair of them anywhere. Finally, he went to Big Kyle and asked him, “Elder Brother, have you seen my cattle?”

Big Kyle innocently said, “No! Perhaps Little Kyle took them.” And Middle Kyle went off to work in the fields sadly.

Finally, Little Kyle awoke. He looked around for his sheep, but couldn’t find them either! He, too, asked his older brother, “Have you seen my sheep?” Big Kyle once again lied that he had not, so Little Kyle went off too. 

When Little and Middle Kyle were gone, Big Kyle went back to the woods to get the cows and sheep. However, in his absence, wolves had come and eaten each and every animal! Still hungry, they waited behind the trees until Big Kyle returned. When he cried out in sadness, seeing his cattle were dead, they leapt out and tore him to pieces, until there was nothing left of his body. by Evan Gray-Williams

In a dark, dew-stenched cave illuminated only by a screen, there lay a reddit dweller. It’s orange-crusted fingertips tapped away at a worn-down keyboard, adamant on commenting “snowflake liberal XD” on every left-leaning post it could find. Alas, the reddit dweller only known as Shapri0Luvr03 has to leave its cave every once in a while. On its way to the grocery store, it suddenly collapsed on the sidewalk. Symptoms of living off Mountain Dew and Doritos for the last three months with little to no exercise finally take effect. It couldn’t get up. A kind man quickly came to the dweller’s aid, called an ambulance, and quickly asked if there’s anyone else he could call. The dweller said “It’d be great if you could let my reddit followers know I’ll be out of commission for a bit. I go by Shapir0luvr03.” The man froze for a moment. He picked up his phone, which was still on dial with 911, and said “Sorry ma’am, false alarm. Everyone here’s fine.” and hung up. “What the frick?!” the dweller shrieked. “I’m gonna post on r/AmITheA**hole about you! Heck off!!!” The man simply kept on walking, opened up his phone while leaving the dweller laying on the sidewalk. His thumb hit an orange robot looking icon, and went on r/Trueoffmychest to get his free karma points for taking down the infamous Shapir0Luvr03. by Conor McGeady

Once upon a time there was a little boy who did not like to work. His father plowed the fields and his mother took in laundry and his sister did the housework and even his younger brother shined shoes for pennies. But the little boy hated to lift a single finger, except to eat or play. His mother asked and begged and pleaded for him to help, but he would not. Out with his brother in the market square he asked for a penny for which to buy an apple. The brother said no, for he wished to give his pennies to his mother. The little boy grew angry at this, and hit his brother. His brother hit him back, and knocked him unconscious. Upon their return home, his mother cried out, thinking her son was dead. They were saddened by the loss, but they were poor and made use of anything they had. His mother pulled the meat from his bones and made a stew that fed the family for a month. His father ground his bones into fertilizer and the garden grew abundant. His brother tanned his skin into leather and made shoes for him and his sister. His body was made use of, and in death he was a much better son. by Zadie Niedergang

Once upon a time, there was a little boy who was impudent and violent, always kicking dogs and slamming doors and yelling at his parents. He was the scourge of his household, and his mother was always sighing and crying. One day, his mother asked him to sweep the floor. Instead of obeying her, as is right for a child, he yelled and screamed, broke the broom in half and ran out the front door. He ran straight into the woods, and soon he was walking through the dense, dark underbrush. After a while, he heard a buzzing sound and investigated it. He saw a large wasps’ nest, the size of a mature turkey. As he drew closer, he felt a red-hot prick on his foot, and looked down to see a protective wasp digging his stinger into the boy’s skin. The boy cried out in anger and started to kick his attacker’s home: the wasp nest. As he kicked it, a huge swarm of the insects rose into the air and swallowed him, turning his skin into a swollen, red mass of pain, covered in bumps as large as quail eggs. The boy howled and began to run back through the forest to his house. But when he got back home, he looked so monstrous and horrible that his mother did not recognize him! She thought he was an ugly demon, and chased him back into the woods with the broken broom, where he lived out the rest of his days. by Evan Gray-Williams

Once upon a time, there was a fellow whose allyship was eternally undetermined. For half a dozen months, he would be strongly aligned with the far-right MAGA crowd, preaching the Big Lie and accusing Antifa for the January 6th riot. Not a month later, he would hop over to the Liberal world, and took part in discussion of socialism, pro-chocie and LGBTQ rights. Sure enough, a handful of months later, he once again relocated to the libertarians and their belief in the free market and individual freedoms. He lived his life like this, jumping ship to a new area of political affiliation whenever he got bored. Eventually, once he had gone around the circle of political stances, people started to notice. “Hey, didn’t you go off to the libs a year ago?” Sh*t. They caught on. Word soon spread across the web, of this one forever disloyal member of all parties, and none of them at the same time. Across the timeline of American politics, different political factions have never been able to get along or see eye-to-eye. This changed, however, when word got out about this fellow. For once, everyone put down their pitchforks and flags and condemned the political hopper. “Only thing worse than a centrist is someone who changes up their affiliation out of boredom.” His political life was over.  by Conor McGeady

Once upon a time there was a very smelly man. With each smell he smolt his own smell grew, until the smell became so unbearable that nobody wanted to go near him. He hated God and God hated him, so much so that one day when The Smelling Man bent down to tie his shoes, the Lord struck him with a great bolt of lightning that would kill any mortal. However, The Smelling Man was smarter than this, and in that moment his stench became so powerful that even the bolt of lightning dare not go near him. It set off course and struck a nearby village, killing every resident instantly upon impact. The village was set ablaze, and The Smelling Man gained the smell of 1000 burning corpses.

One day The Smelling Man was in Walmart buying new Doc Martens. When he went near the cash register, every cashier immediately ran away, fearing his smell and his power. The Smelling Man was planning to steal them anyway, so he tread out of the store in his shiny new kicks. God didn’t like that either, so he blew up the sun, making the Earth explode instantly. Lucky for The Smelling Man, his stench was so strong it made it so that he had an infinite air supply. Floating through space for eternity, The Smelling Man was unphased. The End. by Skye Groves

Once upon a time there was a maiden. And she was fair and lovely but the men of the village would not marry her, for if they did they would never know a moment of peace or quiet until their dying day. She peeped into windows and listened at doors and went through trunks and shelves, and she would not stop. Every time she spoke it was only to gossip more. The villagers rankled at her presence, and eventually got tired of her. They banished her to the forest, and she became a hag-witch. Her nose grew warts and her skin lost its fair glow and she was haggard and ugly. Whenever people saw her they knew she was nosy and they shut their doors to her. Even the animals of the woods would scurry into their dens and hollows. She died alone. by Zadie Niedergang

Once upon a time a child named Floy was born. He was a happy and healthy baby and was cared for and loved. He was swaddled in warm blankets and he slept in a poofy crib. But although he grew he continued to want for lots of care. He refused to feed himself, insisting his parents do it for him, and rather than walk he demanded to be carried. He kept this up for many years until his parents were gray and hunched over. When at last they died Floy found himself in quite the bind. He lay in bed for a week, his already thin arms shrinking into twigs. And when the hunger gnawing at his stomach became unbearable he could only lie there and wail. After many moons he finally attempted to crawl from his bed, only to have his brittle bones snap. He fell from the bed in throes of pain. Shards of bone stuck out of his skin as he slowly bled into a husk. by Wren Alger

Drawing by Harper Eikenberry

November 9, 2022

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