At the top of her castle tower, the Queen stares into the mirror and the mirror stares back. It sees her soul: a lifetime shaped by men who tell her looks are all that matters until she believes it herself, values herself in their words. Who is the fairest of them all? she asks. Snow, the mirror replies, voice tainted with the sadness of centuries, and retreats back behind the glass as the Queen demands the destruction of her stepdaughter.
On the outskirts out the land, Red steps outside her villages boundaries, winds her way through the woods with her hood up, her cloak drawn tight around her against the wind. Don’t tempt the wolf. She hears howling. She takes too long to retreat. The wolf crosses the protective lines drawn around the village that night, past the statue to ward it away, and Red wakes to a dead family, the delicate spray of blood decorating her face.
She’s on a quest for revenge when she stumbles across the glass coffin and the beautiful girl inside. Red knows the consequences of overstepping the line, that some confines are meant with the best intentions, but the coffin whispers of evil traps and the girl inside glows with something that looks like life. The kiss of life. The girl wakes.
Snow and Red: the two girls out for revenge, who don’t care about their own happily ever afters as long as they can rid those who wronged them of theirs.