"Hair as black as ebony, lips as red as the rose, skin as white as snow."

Queen Grimhilde was always baffled at how no one other than herself suspected Snow White's true identity. Even in her living days, people believed she was an innocent, kind-hearted princess, and that she, the Queen, who had given her life up for the sake of her kingdom, was the evil one. They continued to call her The Wicked Queen long after she died. But did any of them ever stop to think how an ordinarily beautiful girl could speak to animals, convince dwarves to let her stay with them, change the heart of the huntsman sent to kill her, and fail to age no matter how long she sleeps? No. But Queen Grimhilde had figured it out.

Snow White was, more or less, a vampire.

They spoke of her pale skin, her blood red lips, her ink black hair, but they forgot to mention her fangs. None of them lived long enough to.

The Queen had caught a glimpse when she was asleep. She had gone to the Princess up from her midday nap, but when she entered the unusually dark bedroom, her eyes fell upon a glass containing a drink of a deep red color. She sniffed the contents and stumbled backwards, dropping the glass. Blood. She looked at Snow White's face in horror as a grin slowly crept onto her lips. And there it was, a flash of dangerously pointy pearly white. Fangs.

Grimhilde flew out the room like one of God's angels. She locked herself up in her room and ran to her chest drawers, frantically digging through them. Her fingers wrapped around a simple gold chain, and she yanked it out, quickly fastening it around her neck. The cross fell onto her bosom and rose with every pant she let out. She had suspected something like this, but now it was confirmed.

Slumping down on her bed, Grimhilde contemplated her next move. The Princess would definitely make a run for it now. If she launched a hunt for Snow White publicly, the entire kingdom would be thrown into a panic. No, she must take a more discreet action. She decided to take the fall - she decided she would tell the world that she wanted Snow White to perish because the mirror had said she was the fairest in the land. This, in reality, was not true at all; the mirror had said she was the fairest, for it judged beauty of the form as well as beauty of the heart. Yes, this was it. It must be done this way. Snow White could not kill her - she was, after all, the Queen, and everyone would be outraged had they known the Queen herself was murdered by a bloodsucker, princess or not.

She stood up with a new energy coursing through her body and opened her door. Immediately, servants swarmed into her quarters rambling about how the Princess was seen escaping the castle. Grimhilde was prepared. She called the huntsman and pulled him into her throne room, alone. There, she told him of everything she discovered: how the Princess was a vampire, the crystal cup filled with blood, the fangs that flashed in the eerie smile Snow White's corpse gave her.

The huntsman fastened a cross around his neck and swore to return with the heart of the vampire to ensure he had rid the world of her correctly. He never returned.

Two days later, the Queen received word that his body was found hanging from a tree, completely drained of blood. There were two bite marks on his neck, which the villagers desperately claimed was a snake bite. Grimhilde knew better. It was the vampire princess.

She continued to hear word about Snow White, how she famously spoke to animals and forced them to do as she bid them, how she manipulated those poor dwarves to let her stay with them, how when they were all asleep, she would fly out to suck the blood of the villagers in Grimhilde's kingdom as revenge for Grimhilde's attack. The Queen did not know what to do.

The only way to get the job done was to go to Snow White herself so that she could kill her herself, once and for all.

Disguising herself as an old lady, the only form Snow White had not seen the Queen in, and poisoning an apple with Sangue Debolezza, the Vampire Disease, Grimhilde made her way to Snow White's cottage. She only had a small vial of it and a single drop of it should have done the trick, but the bloodsucker only took a small bite before feigning death. The amount of Sangue Debolezza she consumed was too little to have any effect. Had she bought a little more time for herself, Grimhilde would have ensured that the bloodsucker ate the entire apple. But the animals were quick to attack Grimhilde, sensing her as a threat to their precious Snow White, and the wretched dwarves threw her off the cliff.

Snow White acted as if the Queen had imposed the Sleeping Death upon her and cleverly woke up when the unknowing Prince kissed her. There was, in fact, no true love.

Queen Grimhilde's spirit sits at the edge of the cliff warning travelers to beware of the beautiful woman with hair as black as ebony, lips as red as the rose, and skin as white as snow. They never listen. Snow White lures them in to her cottage, sucks their bodies dry of blood, and and throws their lifeless forms down the cliff to spite Grimhilde.

Three hundred and twenty six souls lie at the bottom of the cliff, and the vampire princess's dead heart continues to beat in place of all of theirs.