Void.Net: Wonderland

by Elliot Rockland

  “Thank you, thank you, oh gods. Thank you!”

  I spurted inside her again and again, I didn’t think I could stop.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  You could imagine the shock I felt when I found out we were now soul bonded. Which the way she made it sound, was more iron clad than marriage. I caught myself thinking about what would happen if I ended up hooking up with anyone else from this realm, and as if catching my own private thoughts, she replied, in my head, that it was fine; ideal, even. In Fae culture, it was seen as a sign of great prosperity to have many partners and that the mad Queen of Hearts murdered her husband and went on a crusade, killing every male, fully grown or child. But she didn’t like talking about the Queen of Hearts, it wasn't safe, but if anyone could stop her, you could. Her words arrived in a flood, seemingly communicating multiple thoughts at once. I had to pick out her meaning, plucking up words and arranging them in my head.

  Over the coming months: I explored my new home and property, my strength and skills and dexterity increasing, massively. She never liked explaining the basics of how the insanely complicated world of the Fae worked and insisted I entered her mind’s library, to access the information. But every time I tried I felt like my brain was going to overheat and melt from the vast amount of information. It reminded me of filling a balloon in an instant, my brain immediately full and on the edge of bursting. I felt that, given time, I would gain resistance, but there was never enough time. I had to find my soul and hopefully that would be my ticket out of here, but it was so easy to get lost in the unrestrained beauty of my day to day life in this place. The world of the Fae has a way of making you forget, and for a time, I did forget.

  One day I rolled over in bed, my sweet bunny baby always slept in late. The morning pierced through the 10,000 acre treeline and it had to be around noon. Everyday was perfect weather, there was never any rain or cold, and today wasn’t an exception.

  I moved one of her ears out of her eye and one of her eyelids fluttered open. “I’ll kill you, I swear to the gods, bring me my knife and hammer and some poison from my collection, the black bottle.” To which I responded by pelting her head with kisses. She slapped and clawed at me and kissed me back.

  She liked to collect things, even dangerous things like weapons and poisons. I wondered why she would ever need them, living in the Spring Court has been a dream, although there always seemed to exist a dark cloud over the horizon.

  I leaned over and kissed her eyelids and she half-hissed and half-purred and threw the sheets over her head. “You don’t mean that,” I was at least pretty sure she didn’t. As much as she resented me and herself for loving me, she loved me. It was evident in the little things like the lunches she has ready for me when I get back from one of my exploration hikes, or how she always says good night twice, despite herself. The way she curls up against me, burying her cute bunny face in the crook of my neck.

  “Get up bunny butt.”

  “I’m not a bunny,” she groaned, and rolled back over. But made a kissy face anyway. As much of a deviant as I was, she was twice as insatiable. Her favorite way to wake up was my cock down her throat. She loved it when I came fast, it seemed to give her energy, and it made sense: sex, in this dimension, is a powerful energy multiplier.

  “Does the Bunnygirl want her treats?”

  She growled, warning me. And despite having to constantly fight her Fae nature, I liked to push her buttons. She then made a kissy face, covering her eyes with her forearm, blocking out the early afternoon sun rays.

  I stood on the side of the bed and let it flop out. She was able to drain me almost on command, casually yawning and taking me down her throat, letting it all pump directly to her tummy, before standing up and stretching, doing a cute little yawn. Once she was up, she basically had unlimited energy. It was hard keeping up with her. But there were more than enough drinks that had a coffee-like effect.

  She was already out of the bed and in the kitchen making snacks before I was even dressed, muttering about being late the entire time, checking her pocket watch. “Late! We’re going to be late!” Once her engine was warmed up there was no stopping her. I just never knew what I was going to get, the claws or kisses. Usually both.

  Even after being here for months or maybe even years, she still treated me like a guest. She always had something new and special to treat me with, like a bottle of wine from the oldest and most exclusive vineyard, or expensive ingredients from the far ends of the world, I never knew with her.

  Time slipped away like a pleasant dream. This place had a way of making you forget, it was all too easy to get lost in a routine. I sat across from her in the breakfast nook, the clean light pouring through the open window, the curtains fluttering with the refreshing wind.

  “Is that what you’re wearing today?” She was leafing through a book and sometimes I got the feeling I was just another piece of her collection.

  I looked down at my garb, I think we picked it up last week at the market. “I uhmm.”

  “What do you make me for? Some kind of Autumn Court vagrant?” she took my plate and walked into one of her many closets dug into the side of the hill. She came out with a new outfit, kind of a white over shirt that had a deep v. We had been working out and I’ve noticed her noticing my chest muscles starting to pop. I wasn’t happy with how tight the pants were, but the shirt hanged low and my belt covered up most my ass, the ass she impishly liked to spank every chance she got. But every day I stayed, the greater the danger I was in. I had no idea what state my body was in, or how much time had passed. It was just so easy to forgot.

  I told her I had to leave, but she already knew. I forgot we had a lengthy discussion on it in my dream the other night. She could tell I was anxious about something and always had the strangest timing when she brought things up. One time she started to explain Fae culture and rituals to me, but it just sounded like some kind of hyper-advanced mathematical concept. I only caught the meaning of one in every ten words, despite the fact that my own thoughts automatically converted to this weird and quirky language she called low speech with dozens of different ways to same the same thing: like the word for death is also the word for life or game and also a range of abstract feelings like the call of faraway places or the feeling of moral indebtedness.

  And to further complicate matters, words changed meaning based on things like the direction of the wind or day of the week or month or season, I could never for the life of me keep track of any of it. The nature of the Fae was fleeting, the very dimension a cosmic wave of ephemeral weirdness and they had systems to sort and complement the madness.

  Waiting for me was a pack filled with several lunches, my favorite nuts and fruits and berries and cheeses.

  How long have I really been here?

  I tried to think, but all I could remember was my time spent with her. It was like a lifetime passed within a moment and thinking about it was like trying to drink from a fire hose. She wasn’t helping my job, at all. Every time I insisted I was a tester for this game, (there was no hiding anything from her), she insisted I was crazy and wanted me to keep my silly Earthen thoughts to myself. I had to seriously consider if my full-dive rig somehow figured out a way to open the dimension to the Fae, which she agreed, was much more probable then her being birthed in some kind of mathematical system.

  I wanted her to come with, but I knew she wasn’t going to do it. It was dangerous out there, but debts had to be paid in the world of the Fae. I was brought here for a reason and by some weird twist of what passed for karma, I owed the land something in return. I had nightmares about it that not even Inga would touch. And I already knew what the source was—it was dangerous to even think about, her spies were everywhere, the Queen of Heart’s power growing virtually unopposed. She existed outside the influence of the four courts, a shadowy thorn in the side of the Fae. It took everything they had to repel her, and in many ways they failed.

  I pulled out the jewel-encrusted sword she packed me,
knowing better than to test the blade with my finger tip. Not after last time. I heard Inga giggle, watching the entire thing. “I'm going to get myself killed, aren't I?” This caused another derisive snort of laughter.

  “You will do no such thing, you will bring my sword back and we will share many more days and nights even though you smell awful and are kind of a pervert.”

  When I turned around to leave, I could feel she was close to short-circuiting, rapidly darting from the urge to kill me and the urge to kiss me. She did not like crying, this was one emotion she didn't care for, not at all. It was almost beyond her nature and not very Fae of her. They were connoisseurs of decadence and luxury, masters of conversation and world-class planners.

  I winced as she darted over to me faster then my eyes could track and began pelting me with kisses. Again, really out of character for her as the Fae existed outside of time and were the very picture of elegance and decadence, and it was hard for her not to take me out front and drown me or hang me by my toes covered in honey, mouth stuffed with fruits as a sacrifice to a being I wasn’t even worthy to know the name of, and I was a pathetic little Earthborn.

  But despite all her impish urges, she kissed me all the same, one of her ears still tired and off to the side, haven’t having even a second to make herself presentable. Another grievous sin for the people of the Fae. When faced with eternity, you had to always look your best . . . or something, everything always seemed to be lost in translation. It was hard telling with her. She kissed me and still tasted as sweet as the day we met so many years ago.

  Years ago? Or was it decades. She chastised me for thinking so linearly and again my mind was fire-hosed with memories and sensory information. She slapped me in the face and kissed me, then pushed me out the door just barely able to keep herself from grabbing her crossbow, the bolts coated in the darkest, deadliest poison imaginable. I heard the door lock in place and felt the wards go up.

  When it came to the law of all things, there was no refusal.

  I didn’t even have time to strap my sword to my belt.

  I finished strapping my gear on, then I just started walking.

  I kind of had a feeling I would eventually run into a quest, or die an untimely death. I should have been more prepared than ever with Inga casually attacking me every chance she got.

  I had become quite adept at not getting stabbed.

  It was like I retained some of her abilities and she retained none of mine, because I had none, without my soul. Sure my mind was fully functioning, well according to Inga whom I already missed, was barely functioning. I was barely a mile away and already I felt the crushing, almost unbearable despair of losing her.

  All because I broke the golden rule of testing, I caught feelings.

  I caught them bad.

  For days and nights and weeks I thought about her, and I saw and heard so much, it felt like my sanity was hanging on by a thread, any single act being the straw that broke my frail and worthless human psyche.

  And despite it all, throughout my quests, I couldn’t help but to feel elated and hopeful. It was like the air in this place was narcotic in nature. It was all too easy to find a nice spot and want to sit and relax forever, watching the multicolored landscapes swirl away like the life I used to inhabit. And despite the extreme danger, I kind of wished the AI did find a way to download my mind so I could stay forever. I would have given anything to stay with my beloved Inga.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  I woke up alone in the lush magical forest up in a hammock high in the trees, a sea of multicolored avians rippling through the sky like an endless ocean. I watched them, listening to their harrowing and remarkable song that sung of longing and rebirth. I swung my feet down to the branch below. I felt like I was in the belly of some massive forest leviathan: Sometimes the branches bent to give me a better foothold fascinated by a strange creature climbing around on it, while others tried to trip me up, attempting to shake me loose of their branches like a common tick or parasite.

  I snagged my drying clothes on the way down and admired the landscape. There was always something to check out. I was especially looking forward to what would be on the menu today. Everything tasted so good, I had tried hundreds of different fruits and nuts and berries, each one with a unique flavor profile. Now that I was a guest and following the way, I could dig into all the unearthly delights. Some fruits were fizzy, some were tart, my favorite were these peaches that oozed some kind of creme, it was like eating peaches and creme, biting into it the thick, creamy juices oozing into your mouth. I had to be careful, I was pretty sure it was possible to eat yourself to death and I would have done it, had I not had Inga's warnings ingrained in the back of my head, I could just imagine her calling me a slob and a pig. I missed her so much

  Every morning, there was something to do. Sometimes I would find little quests to keep me occupied, mostly fetch stuff, nothing big yet, but I knew if I traveled far enough I would start seeing signs and land smack-dab in the middle of a main quest.

  Whatever the world had in store for me, it was like it funneled me towards it. I didn’t really need to worry about getting lost, the game and AI would string me along like a benevolent (or malevolent) god.

  Once I was dressed and fed, I decided to keep going down the path shrouded in lush vegetation. It was warm here, I must have been heading towards the Summer Court, I wished I had time to explore all four courts, as dangerous as it may have been, but first I had to get out of this game and find out if I was still alive, or if my brain was downloaded into the system, forever trapping me in this mystical world. It could have been a lifetime, multiple lifetimes in Fae time, then it would be nothing when the test results come back proving the game killed me. The entire world gone in a snap as the tech enters DELETE in the prompt that double checked if they really wanted to do it.

  It took me three more days to travel from the edges of the spring court to the Summer Court where everything changed. My love, being of the court of the spring, or at least residing under their rule or protection, didn’t tell me much about the Summer Court, apparently one of the crazier courts, completely and totally obsessed with their own beauty and aesthetics, often times going at great and terrible lengths to secure one or the other. The Summer Court is the house that would kidnap you, just to turn you into a living piece of art, morphing and twisting and changing you to fit within their own twisted sense of beauty like some kind of bonsai tree, a living painting, a songbird on a grandfather clock, or even a colorful pincushion.

  There was an immediate change in barometric pressure, the temperature on the border of too hot and absolutely perfect, like many things in this world, existing and balancing perilously on the edge. My time in the summer court flew by, terror punctuated by brief moments of beauty beyond my understanding.

  Today I heard laughter in the distance, but I had been tricked before. The first rule in the world of the Fae is nothing is as it seems.

  I cautiously followed the sound of laughter and soft clinking, it sounded almost like a party and as I came closer, I could pick out individual voices, then I entered a clearing and found a small little cabin built out of a giant hallowed out mushroom. Ahead of the cute little mushroom cabin was a long table with a party of monstergirls sitting down around it, they were drinking tea and laughing their asses off and were all really hot, which was to be expected in the summer court. Some had horns, others with scaly reptile skin, I think one was some kind of water nymph and sat with her feet in a pair a buckets, and of course there were pointy-eared elvish looking Fae who looked like full grown pixies and even . . .

  . . . no.

  It was the Cheshire Catgirl.

  "You . . ." I said.

  "Oh, well I guess you aren't dead then, hooray . . . " she was laying in the middle of the table seductively as some people pet her, like she was a living centerpiece.

  "Disappointed?"

  "Rarely," she stretched, and barely pointed at the head of the table, a cute elvi
sh-looking girl with short pink hair that looked like it was made out of candy. She wore a top hat and had the giggles, like little bursts of bubbles floating out of her tummy. "Tea?” she offered, adjusting her thick brimmed hat lined with flowers. She looked about my age, and I was coming to realize they stopped aging in their mid twenties, but she was likely thousands of years old.

  "No thank you." I could have used a nice warm glass of tea to ease my sore muscles, but I didn't trust the Cheshire Catgirl as far as I could throw her, and anyone she was casually consorting with were likely equally crazy. I was in the heart of the world of the Fae, I had to tread lightly, as this place isn't exactly congruent towards the habitation of humans.

  "Aaaaa, very merry deathday, to you," the pink-haired hatter girl belted out in the tune of a song.

  "Who me?" I asked, it just kind of fell out of my mouth.

  "Yes you!" The table happily responded.

  They all look at me expectantly, but I had no idea what was going on. Where they planning to kill me and serve me up on their fancy little platters? Or perhaps they would arrange little pieces of Alex sashimi all over the Cheshire Catgirl's naked body.

  “You do not remember your own deathday?” the Cheshire Catgirl purred. “It was quite the event, of course you remember, darling.”

  Around the table I saw the ghostly forms of some of the people at my 'deathday,' which was the night in the Twilight Exit, where the Cheshire Catgirl took my soul, then they were gone, apparently unable to abide the fair folk of The Summer Court.

  “How many years have I been here?”

  “A year, a decade, a century, who cares . . .” The Cheshire Catgirl casually looked at her nails, ensuring the shape and color held up.

  “Uhh, I care,” I raised my hand, waiving it in her face. “I just want to get out of this alive.”

  “You said he was cute, but wow. Mommy likes,” the mad hatter girl said, taking off her hat and slicking back her bubblegum-pink hair, pressing her tits together before fanning herself off. She looked like she was made of actual candy, and I wouldn't put it past a summer court fairborn to turn themselves into candy, for the aesthetic and beauty of it.