Madness

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Madness Page 13

by Kailee Reese Samuels


  “Let me go, you beast!” Maddy yells as Zig grins like a kid in a candy store. “Get your fucking hands off me!”

  On my knees, I scamper for the door and carefully slip my hand through the bars to extricate the keys. Coaching myself, I mutter, “Please don’t fucking drop them.”

  “Watch her go!” Master proudly commends. I toss my hair over my shoulder to catch his concentrated stare on my bare ass. He isn’t the only one watching me. With the formidable stance of a monster, Twig undermines the scene and vows a promise of rapturous reckoning. “Don’t be late for your throne, my Queen!”

  “I won’t, Sir,” I reply, hooking my finger into the ring attached to the golden key. “Got it!”

  Still admiring my naked flesh, Master says, “Of course you did.”

  “Guards!” Maddy yells as Zig’s hand dives into the bustier of her gown. “Guards! Help!”

  Licking his drooling lips, Zig whispers, “No one is going to help you now. Don’t worry. You’ll live on in infamy after I’m through with you.”

  “… Through…with…me?” she balks, struggling against his grasp. “What does that mean?”

  “Good shoes are such a trigger for his unscrupulous activities,” I seethe, showing no remorse. “Take a long look around, Maddy, because this is your final resting place. Your tomb. Welcome home. Goodbye.”

  Walking away, I shake what the good Lord gave me as Twig smirks and takes the key from my fingers before sealing our moment with a kiss. “You’re going to have to make your selection.”

  “… Right now?”

  “No,” he grins, concentrating on getting the key into the lock. “Not right now.” The mechanics give way, and the door opens. “M’lady, your life awaits.”

  “Thank you, Twig,” I whisper, rubbing the scruff on his cheek. “For everything.” I snap my fingers above my head and say the most fabulous words ever, “Come, boys.”

  Big, Jig, Zag, and Twig gather around as Dig waveringly says, “… My Queen?”

  I spin to face him. “Yes, Baby Dig?”

  “… May I please stay with Zig, Ma’am?”

  I blink to Zig, and he shrugs in acceptance. Stepping closer, I scan over the young man. “You’re so young…”

  “I have a particular need.”

  “I understand,” I whisper, pressing my lips to his. “Stay with Zig and feast upon my sister.”

  “Thank you.” He lowers his head.

  “Hey,” Zig adds as I aim for the door. “Your voice is now your own, Ellison. Use the fuck out of it.”

  “I will,” I whisper, latching onto his neck. “Thank you so much, Ziggy.”

  He smirks. “You’re welcome, doll.”

  10

  Steal the Tartlet

  Sometime verymuch later…

  In the Queen’s boudoir, I gaze in the mirror as my two young attendants flutter about the room and prepare to dress me. I am not only The Queen but the chosen Mistress of The Merrymen. I am bound and determined to keep these lands united until my last breath.

  There is only one last thing standing in my way.

  While all The Merrymen serve me, I must decide who will be my King, sleep in my bed, and plant children in my garden. The Selection isn’t as easy as it sounds.

  By the laws of The Merrymen, The Mistress must pick three suitors from her immediate army before marriage can occur.

  I have chosen Zig, Zag, and Twig.

  Freak. Master. And…God, the only word to describe Twig, is lover.

  “I think I am ready, Maelyn.”

  “Your makeup looks incredible, Queen Ellison,” Rai compliments, moving my hair out of the way. She drops the chartreuse gown over my head. The lovely smooth silk fabric dips down low in the front and back, suggesting a sensuality. Though terrible to admit, Twig helped me pick out the gowns I would wear for my dates with Zig and Zag. I selected the one for my date with him.

  I slide the silver shoes on as the knock at the door sends a chill over my arms. “It’s time to go.”

  “Yes,” Rai whispers, fluffing my curls. “And you’re going to be wonderful.”

  “I know.”

  “Where are you meeting?” Maelyn questions.

  “In the spot where we first met.” I smile, feeling the bubbles of excitement. “I don’t know what I am going to do.”

  “You will,” Rai reassures and drapes the lace shawl over my shoulders. “Do what makes you happy.” She winks.

  “I will.” I peck both of the girls, and Maelyn opens the door.

  “Good evening, my Queen.”

  “Hello, Ritt!” I reply as he takes my hand. “Is my gryphon ready?”

  “Of course.”

  Walking through the castle, I smile and wave at my staff. I pass by one of the maid’s dusting the paintings. “Hello, Honey.”

  “You look beautiful, Mistress.”

  “Thank you,” I reply with graciousness. We walk down the spiral staircase as a few more look on.

  In the main entryway, I stop to pray at the shrine honoring Sig and The Mistress. I lay my hands on the ornate urn, knowing it contains not only their ashes but hopes, dreams, and love. So much love. I softly kiss it. A single tear trickles over my cheek as I will always miss them.

  I will never recover from their loss.

  Nearby, I notice the maid, scrubbing the floor, and the dusty cobwebs residing behind a bench.

  “You missed a spot, Pixie.”

  “Yes, Ma’am,” she eagerly replies. “I sure did miss that spot. A girl can only do so much.”

  “Ain’t that the truth.”

  The guards open the door to my sweet midnight blue ride, and the rather oaf-like ginger man waiting to drive the bird. He’s enormous and likes to pick me up and place me on the gold-trimmed regal saddle.

  “Are you ready?”

  “Yes,” I mutter as we lift off. There is only one man I am fully comfortable being behind, but I cannot think of him now.

  I must think of Zig…Zig…Zig…

  From the air, the view always provides a splendid view of the landscape. I eye the giant cages with the Jackoffwackit and Vagbeast. The handlers are working on retraining them, but as of today, they still hiss and snap. My advisor, The Cardinal, says I need to put them to rest, but I am not ready to dismiss them. She also recommended I not have these three evenings off of the castle grounds.

  I play with trouble.

  And maybe I always will.

  Things are happy and peaceful in The Darkland since the oppression of my sister was lifted. The veil of gloom and doom departed like a thunderstorm. Things aren’t bright, but they’re better.

  I smile at the cabin where I enjoyed the interlude with The Mistress, and I blow it a kiss. “I wish you were here to see me now.”

  “She’d be proud of you,” Lig says with a smile beneath his full beard. He’s a good man and one of my Merrymen, and his hair around the johnson matches. I haven’t restrained myself from relishing in their talents, but my bedroom is saved for the one.

  We pass the wilderness where Sig took me. I close my eyes because I cannot bear to look, but it does no good. The memories of our brief time together haunt me every fucking day.

  The Merrymen are not the same without his smile and charm, but we try because what other choice do we have? They’ve each returned to their homes, and the festive gatherings are far and few between.

  I think a lot about grief and what it means, and when do I stop?

  But there are no right answers.

  Only more questions.

  The gryphon soars down to the mirrored watchtower where I first landed, and I admire the nicely groomed labyrinth of hedges. “Would you like me to stay nearby?”

  “No, Lig. I’ll be fine,” I say, kissing his cheek. “Thank you.”

  “You know, if none of these three works out,” he informs, landing the bird. “You can always hit me up for a booty call.”

  I laugh as he dismounts and scoops my body from the saddle. “The journ
ey was excellent.”

  He bows and smiles. “As always, my Queen.”

  Taking a deep breath, I prepare to find Zig as Lig departs. I expect he’ll be in the tower, but he is such a prankster…he could be anywhere.

  Through the paths in the hedgerows, I stroll to the round gray tower. The bench and table in the small courtyard area bring on waves of good memories.

  And we’re still here…still playing…still acting like nothing could ever harm this love.

  But we aren’t that innocent anymore.

  I smirk at the tricky tiny door only a mouse could get through. “I was so much younger then.”

  “You still are,” Pierre perkily declares. “Stop acting like you’re ancient.”

  “I’m not ancient,” I truthfully speak my mind. “I just don’t know if I believe in the fairytale anymore.”

  “You have an entire kingdom at your beck and call,” he informs. “And a host of gentlemen suitors.”

  “Yes, but…”

  “No buts, Ellison. You may be my Queen, but you will always be a young girl in need of guidance. Don’t fall prey to the imps inside of your pretty skull.”

  “Thank you, Grandmaster P.”

  “My pleasure.”

  Stepping up to the hidden door, I peek inside. “Knock knock.”

  “Come on in.”

  I gasp in horror at the sight of a ragged Maddy tied to a rack. “I thought you rid me of her presence!”

  “Well…we need to talk about some things.”

  “Why is my sister still here?” I scream, staring at the frayed rope bindings cinching her hands and feet. A tattered rag sits between her teeth, but she is very unconscious by his unsavory acts that have rendered her looking more like a carving board than my sister. “… Ziggy?” I glower as his avoidance of the issue cripples my mental capacity. Alarms sound. Red lights whirl. Epic meltdown is imminent.

  This is bad.

  “Answer your fucking Queen!”

  “The Cardinal advised me that eliminating the girl, formerly known as The Queen, will start the surrendering.”

  Spotting the glowing eyes of the beast in the tunnel, I demand, “What surrendering?”

  His face inches closer as I stop dead in my tracks. He’s a horrifying thing with those sharp fangs and talons. “The clocks in all of The Darkland…they will begin to count down from thirteen hours and at the very last minute… Poof!” A gust of his tuna-smelling breath hits my nose. His eyes expand. “Gone!”

  “Poof?” I ask panicking. “Gone?”

  “You and her,” Zig clarifies.

  “One cannot exist without the other in The Darkland, Ellis,” he says, slurping at his paw. “You must decide if you would prefer to stay here or go there, but you cannot be here and there…simultaneously.”

  “There are too many decisions!” I yell, uncertain. “I am just a girl!”

  “With a life ahead of you on the outside,” The Beast contends with his mellow attitude. “If you leave The Darkland, the voices will be… Poof! Gone!”

  I pause to think about what he is saying. “You mean if my sister vanishes…”

  “Dies,” Zig corrects with a devious grin.

  “Then, I will not hear her when I return home?”

  “Correct,” The Beast yawns. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, a nap awaits if those blasted bees will leave me be.”

  I reflect on his words for a split second. “… Do I have to climb through there?”

  “No.” He eases back into the tunnel. “You’ll just…”

  “Poof. Gone.”

  “Precisely.”

  I glance at the table of accoutrements and food. “Have you been torturing Maddy?”

  “Would I do that?”

  “Ziggy, she is wearing damn gold sequined boots that look to have seen better days.”

  He tilts his head. “What are you going to do, girlfriend?”

  “I don’t want to leave The Merrymen,” I fret, skimming my finger over the blades. “But if I stay, I may never know what could be.”

  “Truth.”

  “But who will rule the kingdom?”

  “I think we will all cease to exist, Ellison,” he mutters with a stern expression. “So, make your decision and be prepared to stick by it because there is no going back.”

  “Give me a moment.” I pace around the mirrored room and wish I wasn’t being forced to stare at my reflection. “I could just stay here for the rest of my life.”

  “Is that what you want to do?”

  “Oh! I don’t know,” I agonize, touching the glass. It doesn’t move as it did before. I am stronger now, more capable of standing on my own two feet. “Where are Master and Twig?”

  “Master is next door to the castle in The Library.”

  “Shit!”

  “And Twig is on the outskirts of the underground in the swamps.”

  “Double shit!” I clamor, incapable of deciding. “I won’t have time to say goodbye to both!”

  “Not a chance,” he thoughtfully agrees, sitting on the table. “But I do happen to have some better shoes if you’re hightailing it thataway.”

  “May I…”

  He leaps and crouches down. In a box under the table, he pulls The Mistress’ black boots out. “And your white boxers, Madame.” He snaps them at me. I smile.

  “Do you happen to have a pair of…scissors?”

  He gives a blank stare. “You’re kidding, right?” Pulling the drawer open, I laugh at the number of blades he has. “Take your pick. But be careful, they’re sharp.”

  Snatching a pair, I hand them to him. “Cut the dress.”

  “You’re serious?”

  I nod, breathing heavily. “Cut the fucking dress, Ziggy.”

  “Okay, but I’m no seamstress.” He kneels, studying the garment. I eye the black threads keeping my sister’s eyes closed.

  “I tend to disagree.”

  “How short do you want this?”

  I peer down. “Just cut the damn thing.”

  “Yeah, but…”

  Flustered under pressure, I yell, “Cunt cut it, Z!”

  “Yes, ma’am!” he says as I close my eyes, understanding the choice I am making will affect all of The Darkland. The amusement park will close, and nothing will remain. But the chance of having a real-life at home is all I’ve ever truly longed to have. He hastily shears the dress in half. “Were you expecting sex this evening?”

  “Why do you ask?”

  “Because you aren’t wearing any undergarments,” he notes with an impish grin. He undoes the straps on my shoes and holds the boxers as I step into them. He pulls them up and grabs my ass. The boots slide onto my feet like they were made for me. “Don’t worry about me. We were never meant to be.”

  “I don’t know that.”

  “You’re rushing off to spend your last hours with Twig,” he rebukes. “It doesn’t take a genius to know how you feel.”

  “I feel scared,” I admit, clutching onto his hands. “What if I don’t make it?”

  “You will make it,” he assures, moving a loose tendril of hair from my cheek. “Take the shortcut. Straight down the path, don’t go to the underground, you’ll get lost.”

  “I’ll never make it if I go there.”

  “No,” he says, stroking my cheek. “The second you close the door, I will do the deed. You’ll have thirteen sweet hours, so don’t fucking waste them. I don’t plan on it.” His lips curl into a mischievously, wicked grin.

  “I won’t,” I ramble, worrying. “Maybe that’s it!”

  “What?”

  “The lesson!” I shout, understanding it all. “We should never waste time because we’re all ticking down to our final minute.”

  “When you go home, be good.” He kisses me. I want to tell him to say goodbye to the Master for me, but neither of us could make it back to the castle in time. I am not the only one… Poof. Gone.

  “What if I am doing the wrong thing?”

  “Hey!”
Sig appears as an apparition in the tunnel. He winks as the gorgeous ghost of The Mistress grabs his waist and peeks around his arm. She waves. “Do what makes you happy.”

  “Do it, Ziggy!” I mutter, backing up towards the door. “Stay there, you two. Don’t go anywhere.”

  “Go get him, girl!” Sig blows a kiss. “Run faster.”

  “Always.” I glance one final time at Ziggy. “Ready?”

  Cracking his knuckles, Sig grins. “Nowala!”

  Hearing Zig’s grunt, I slam the door and take a breath. “… Pierre?”

  “Yes,” he says, coming out of his home at the base of the tree. He wipes his mouth with a napkin. “I was having supper! Would you like to join me?”

  In my head, I hear the faint sound of a ticking clock. I shake my head and focus. “Sorry… What are you having?”

  “Roasted cockroach,” he says as I turn up my nose. “It’s mighty tasty!”

  “Perhaps another time,” I politely lie. “Do you maybe have that nasty little flask somewhere? And a nibble of the cake? And are you able to run me to the swamp?”

  “You’re asking an old geezer for a lot, young lady,” he jokingly reprimands. “You know, I’m a hoarder. Of course, I have the flask and cake, but I won’t go anywhere near the swamp for fear of the gators, but I’ll take you to the dark side of the mountain where the underground begins.”

  “Deal.”

  Standing in the darkness, I close my eyes as the beat of the clock ticks louder than before. I am all alone in my Darkland. The only voice I hear is mine because Ziggy did the deed.

  Maddy is dead, but she’s been gone for a long time. She was my excuse and my wrong. I am alive, and I’ve been such for eighteen years. I am my reason and my right.

  And I need to forgive myself.

  “Go around the mountain,” Pierre had warned. “Don’t go into the underground, Ellis. The caverns are not fit for a girl, such as yourself.”

  With the crumb of cake in the tin, I consider staying an inch high and not even going to see Twig. He’s probably very busy doing whatever it is men do in the swamp.

  What is the point of saying hello, only to have to say goodbye?

 

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