by Cameron Jace
This was the maddest thing he had encountered in his marathon of insanity all through the years.
"Take this," a dark voice grunted in the dark.
The Cheshire listened to Mr. Jay, wondering why he was still in the room. Mr. Jay had thrown what looked like a clown's costume at the Cheshire's feet. “Suits the maddening occasion," the Cheshire remarked, kneeling down.
Up close, he realized this wasn't exactly a clown's outfit. It was the Joker's mask and a matching outfit.
"How the hell do you have an outfit from a Batman movie in your office?" the Cheshire rolled his eyes while he put it on.
"I'm a Joker fan." Mr. Jay said.
"No shit," the Cheshire rolled his eyes again. "Who else would be?"
"You're going after the Pillar?
"I have to kill him. I've waited too long. I loved the cat and mouse -- I mean Pillar -- game, but with the end of the world outside this window, I have to avenge myself for what he did to me in Wonderland."
"Why not earlier? You had so much time."
The Cheshire held the Joker mask in his hand, wondering why. Why in the purry purrs hadn't I killed him before?
"Don't tell me it's his fourteen lives," Mr. Jay said. "You could have simply shot him fourteen times in one sitting."
"No, it's not that," the Cheshire said. "The Pillar is is a sneaky snake. He always made me think that I would benefit from keeping him alive. He always came at me with a new plan. A new friendship proposal. A new game. He never answers in complete sentences. Always half-truths. Always planning ahead," the Cheshire sighed. "He used my hatred for humankind and played me well."
"Like he did with Alice."
"True," the Cheshire nodded and let out an uncomfortable laugh. "Like he did to you."
"Me?" Mr. Jay's face didn't show in the dark, but the tone in his voice scared the Cheshire.
"You kept him alive as well, thinking his friendship with Alice would lead you and the deceased Queen of Hearts to the Six Keys, thus the secret to control the children of the world."
Mr. Jay said nothing. He didn't roar back, nor did he try to kill the Cheshire for offending him. Which meant he agreed with his theory.
"Can I ask you something, Mr. Jay?" the Cheshire said. "What's so important to devote your whole life in controlling children? I mean you're a mean soulless man -- I’m saying that as a compliment. Why the children? You can just use force and rule the world."
"You ever heard of Hitler?"
The Cheshire chuckled, "Met him once. He didn't like cats. Sadly he is dead or I would have avenged my kind. Why?"
"After spending too long in educating his army and molding their minds to his ideology, he resorted to a project called Hitler’s Youth where he taught children that he was God, that Nazis were the chosen race. He even fabricated fairy tales where he was the good man who saved Little Red Riding Hood from the bad wolf."
"A bit far fetched to believe."
"But it worked. You tell a child that the world rests upon an eight-legged turtle and they will believe it for life--unless they run into a traumatic experience that shatters their beliefs at an older age and then it’s a childhood’s end.”
“It’s called growing up.”
“Exactly.”
"So the children are the key to building your army, your kingdom of doom."
"Children's hearts and souls are easier to mold," Mr. Jay said. "They believe what you tell them--and it stays with them for life. Period."
"Fair enough," the Cheshire said. "Good luck with your evil endeavors. You’re are hardworking man. Excuse me while I go kill the man who messed up my childhood in Wonderland."
The Cheshire turned to leave when Mr. Jay growled, indicating he wanted him to stop.
"I have a question for you, Chesh."
"Oh, me?" the Cheshire turned around, about to cover his Vatican Priest's face with the Joker's mask. What was his name again? Ah, Angelo Carleone. That was fun, but it was time to turn the page.
"Yes, you," Mr. Jay said. "What is this?" he pointed at the mushrooms outside his window.
"The end." the Cheshire shrugged his shoulders.
"You know there is no end," Mr. Jay said in perfectly pronounced syllables.
The Cheshire shook his head, considering. "That's true. Since the Looking Glass came into our lives, there is no end. But this is the end of this story--until further notice."
"What does that mean? I don't know how to deal with this kind of madness. All I want is to know how to control the children."
The Cheshire smirked, then approached Mr. Jay, as much as the dark man would allow him. He still couldn't see his face in the dark, so he talked to the blackened void in front of him. "You know there is only one way to get what you want boss, right?"
"Which is?"
"It's what Lewis Carrol predicted in his Through the Looking Glass book."
Mr. Jay said nothing.
"Do I need to remind you, boss?"
"I know the part you mean," Mr. Jay said. "But I don't want to confront Alice myself."
"It has to be done," the Cheshire said. "It's the prophecy. Lewis was reading into the future, and now you, Mr. Jay, have no choice but to…"
"Stop reminding me. I know... "
The Cheshire shuddered to his boss’s angry tone. He took a step back. He could hear movement in the dark, and he didn't want to made him madder.Like mentioned in his poem about Mr. Jay, no one wanted to piss him off.
Who dared to piss off the Jabberwocky?
3
Present: Takayashi Elementary School, Tokyo, Japan
The bright-eyed twenty-something teacher organized the class. Due to the lack of Alice in Wonderland English versions, she had to gather groups of four students to read from one book. The reading had to be in English--and in unison.
These were the Hatter's orders since they’d received the phone call from Mother Bird.
"In English, please," she told her students.
The teacher's English wasn't the best either, but they were trying.
"Why can't we read it in Japanese?" a little girl protested. She had her black hair knotted in a blooming pink scarf.
"We must read it in English," the teacher said, calming the rest of the class down. "It has to be in Lewis Carroll's language."
"Who is Lewis Caroll?" a boy with thick-rimmed glasses asked.
"He wrote Alice in Wonderland," the teacher sighed, doubting herself. Why was she actually doing this? All she was told was that making the children read will save the world.
"I thought Alice in Wonderland wrote Alice in Wonderland," the girl said.
"Even if it were Alice, she spoke English as well," the teacher argued politely.
"That's not true," the boy argued back. "The original Alice in Wonderland is a Manga turned into a TV series. I have it back home."
"Can you please do as I said," the teacher begged them. "If you want the mushrooms to stop from growing and bringing down buildings and killing people, we have to read."
"Okay," some of the students murmured.
"We have to synchronize as much as possible with others reading all over the world." She added. “I know it’s nearly impossible but it’s said that the more we keep reading, the magic will occur.”
"Is that why we had to wake up at four in the morning to read this?" the boy asked.
The teacher nodded. "Now pay attention. We'll read each chapter, but every thirty minutes we'll recite those two phrases ten times."
"Which phrases?" the students asked.
"“If you don't know where you are going, any road will get you there'” The teacher explained.
The girl with the pink scarf snickered.
"Something wrong?" the teacher asked.
"Well, if you don't know why you're reading, any words will sound so lame," she cupped her mouth laughing.
The teacher sighed again. Why were children so smart? Or maybe adults were so dumb. All she had to do is look outside her window at people ki
lling each other for no reason at all. Children didn't do that.
"All right," she said to the class. "And the second phrase we have to repeat is…"
"I know it!" the boy raised his hand, winking at the girl in the pink scarf. “We’re all mad here!”
The teacher felt as if she were struck by lightning, "How did you know that?"
The girl in pink answered on his behalf, "Well look at all this nonsense happening, teacher. That is the only phrase that actually makes sense."
4
Present: The Wonderland War, London
I'm in the middle of a nonsensical fight, punching and kicking people I don't know.
I'm not sure how or when things escalated in the ashen city of London, but some strangers want to kidnap the March. My fighting skills have sharpened, I must say, and I'm able to protect the March. My heart has hardened and molded into a ruthless killer who doesn't care to ask why she is fighting.
Both he and I escape the madness and hide behind the remains of a building with a heavy mushroom on top.
"Catch your breath, Alice," the March says. "We just need to find a closed space where I can tell you everything I know."
I’m caught between heavy breaths and tense cheeks. I stare past him for a long time, neglecting his words. I’m glad that not everyone recognizes us as the Inklings or they would attempt to kill us. Now that we have a few minutes, I find my eyes fixed on the yellow bus in the far distance.
How strange is it that I did run far off and still see it everywhere I go. If any of them were still alive they would have come out, shouted, asked for help, called my name or something.
How did I manage to kill them?
How come it's a yellow bus again?
Why did Jack bring a yellow school bus?
I have a feeling I will never find the answers. You know why? I vocalize the reason to the March Hare, "Tell me, March. Am I mad?"
"The Cheshire once said we're all mad here," the March says with his curious big eyes.
"That's not an answer."
"Well, Alice, let me put it this way: if you're mad then I'm mad," he looked around. "And everyone else is mad."
"Which is practically true," I say. "What's the meaning of life if we're all mad?"
"Madness is not a disease, Alice. It's a coping mechanism."
I let out a hollow laugh. "You sound too serious. So unlike you."
"I made you smile, didn't I?"
I nod with grateful eyes.
"Let me tell you what I remembered then…" he says.
But then I see something I can't neglect. Two kids, probably thieves, emerge out of the yellow bus with all kinds of loot in their hands. Stolen money. Clothes. Even the steering wheel--why steal the wheel?
"Forget about them," March says. "I need to tell you--"
"They just left the bus," I tense, standing up. "I have to ask them if everyone is dead."
"They're far away," March argues. "It's dangerous to cross over. We could have gone and checked it out ourselves if it weren’t so dangerous."
"I have to," I grip his hand. "I have to know."
Unexpectedly, the March Hare pulls me back. "I have to tell you what I know, Alice. You have one last battle to finish. People die for the greater good."
I look into his eyes, wondering if the screws in his head, the Six Keys, messed with his psyche. "You don't sound like you at all, March. Since when have you been so cruel."
"Since I know that only you can save the world."
His words don't sit well. I can't even hear him when I see the two child thieves having stolen another important item from the bus and fleeing away with it.
"They have the Vorpal sword," I tell March. "Whatever last fight I have to endure, Fabiola told me I need the Vorpal sword."
The March's ears prick up again. His eyes almost bulge out. "It's like Lewis predicted in his poem. Let's go after the kids. You convinced me."
Now it's him eagerly leading the way, and I'm the one who's following.
"What did Lewis predict, March?"
"That you will have to fight the embodiment of evil with the Vorpal sword."
I hit an attacker with the back of my hand as we run, "Who am I going to fight, March? Is that what you remembered?"
"The Jabberwocky."
Of course, I remember that poem, though I have never given it a lot of thought. Also, I've never met the Jabberwocky.
And there is no time to ask since I'm a few inches away from gripping one of the kid's arms.
"Do it, Alice!" the March cheers.
I do and pull the kid back. His friend stops a few strides away.
"Leave him alone," the other kid says. "Go steal something else. This is our loot."
"All I need is the sword," I tell him. "Or I'll kick your friend's ass."
The boy smirks. "No way, the sword looks expensive. I can make a fortune selling it."
"Sell it to whom, smartass," I ask him. "Look around. Do you think anyone will care about money in a few hours from now?"
The boy's face dims as if he hadn't given it a thought before.
"Give me the sword," I demand.
"Why do you need it?"
"It's mine."
"It can't be yours," he says. "I found it on the bus."
"I was on the bus."
"You couldn't have been on the bus," the boy sneers at me.
"Why are you so sure?"
"If you had been then you would be dead like everyone else on it."
5
Present: Mother Bird abandoned bar, London
Carter Pillar stood naked in front of the bar. Mother Bird was nowhere to be found. The streets all around were a mess, so much that no one notices a naked man standing nearby.
After his fight with the Cheshire, he couldn't find clothes to wear, but help was coming. In fact, it had just arrived.
The Pillar's limousine driven by his favorite mousy Chauffeur slowed down in front of him.
"About time," the Pillar said and pulled the door open.
"Sorry for the delay," the Chauffeur said. "The world has gone mad."
"You just noticed?" the Pillar asked, sitting in the back and putting on the pants of his favorite blue tuxedo with the golden stripes. "It's always been mad. We've put it under a magnifying glass."
"Your hat is next to you, sir," the Chauffeur said. "Also the gloves."
"I don't care about the gloves anymore," the Pillar said. "Look at my skin."
The Chauffeur checked it out by twisting his neck and looking toward the backseat. "It's getting worse."
"Yeah, it's time."
"It is?" the Chauffeur showed no emotion.
"I've been sick for so long. I'm going to die pretty soon."
"I thought you would transform, like a pillar into a cocoon then into a butterfly."
"I will die," the Pillar said. "I'm not worried. My mission is accomplished. I'm also fed up with the human race. I'd like to see where I'm going to go next."
"You sound like the Cheshire, sir."
"Well, his hatred has a point. I just don't like him. Otherwise, we could have been friends," the Pillar finished dressing. "Where is Alice?"
"With the March Hare."
"Does she know?"
"He should be telling her at any moment," the Chauffeur said. "Not that I know what he is going to tell her."
"Neither do I," the Pillar said. "At least not everything. I just know the part about the Jabberwocky."
"You think she can kill him, sir?"
"She is a tough cookie. She can."
"If so, why haven't you told her from the beginning? I'm sorry to ask, but you could have just told her and said she has to fight a ruthless monster to save the children of the world from a terrible madness."
The Pillar fancied a moment of silence. His face showed little expression, but the subtle twist to his lips gave away an untold mystery. "The same reason why we don't tell an infant to go get a job, get married, make a family and be useful to so
ciety."
The Chauffeur scratched his three little hairs on the top of his head. "Pardon me, Sir?"
"A child needs to learn to speak, to walk, to enjoy life, to love and then while growing up he has to learn to lose it…"
"And?"
"That's when a child grows up to be a boy or a girl," the Pillar said. "It's the moment in life when you have experienced the fun, irresponsible side of life and then realize that it has all been taken away from you. That's when you've grown enough to fight."
"You mean she needed the journey to be able to kill the Jabberwocky, Sir?"
"She needed to grow up and accept the madness as an adult to fight darkness and save the children, Mousy. I could have made Fabiola give her the Vorpal sword from day one. She wouldn't have used it probably. Now she has been scared enough to stand up to the Jabberwocky."
"May I say something, sir?"
"Please, but drive us to Alice as you do."
"If I may say, Sir, you don't sound anything like when you were in Wonderland. I mean I've seen you grow yourself, Sir, into someone different. Wiser, if I may say."
The Pillar smiled and peered out the window, "I can't go back to yesterday because I was a different person then."
6
BBC News
This might be our last broadcast!
The world is in turmoil. Whatever the Wonderland War is, it's now pure madness.
What started with the brutal assassination of the Queen of England by the ruthless Carter Pillar, also known as Pilla da Killa, escalated from a mere terrorist attack to a grand -- and mass -- hysteria where everyone is killing one another in the streets.
London, New York, Tel Aviv, you name it. THE WORLD HAS GONE BONKERS.
And apparently--in the weirdest ways--Wonderland is real. Whatever that means.
As a news channel, we strive to tell the truth. With the unlikely scenes going on in the streets at this moment in time, we would like to summarize the series of insane events.
It appears that the Inklings are the terrorist organization that started it all. Led by the uncatchable Pilla da Killa and his protege Alice Wonder, both previous patients of the Radcliffe Asylum in London.
