Hair of Shadows

Rapunzel lowered her glowing hair into the darkness, as she always did. “Mother?” she called.

The tower was silent—until her hair tugged back on its own. Not climbing. Pulling.

From the shadows, a whisper echoed in her own voice, “Let down your hair…” Her reflection slid

out of the mirror behind her—smiling too wide, eyes stitched shut with golden strands.

Outside, dozens of hands made of hair began climbing the tower. And this time… she

had called them.