by A. G. Stone
After we had finished ordering and had received our candy, Amber and I waited for the boy. Soon, he joined us with a blonde boy with blue spades under his left eye - like the guy in the shop - in tow. Neither of them were holding a bag of candy, which you received after ordering from Sugar's Sweet Mill, the best candy store in town. But I didn't ask either one of them about it; I figured it would be too rude.
"Why did I have to come with you?" the blonde boy was asking the darker-haired boy. "We're not even supposed to be here. They did say the mirror transport was forbidden. Imagine what they'd do if they knew we were here. Especially him; he's been very aggressive since the last Alice left."
"I know, but look," the dark-haired boy said with the diamonds under his left eye, gesturing to Amber and I. "I think I've found the new Alice; she has the same attitude, the same look in her eyes, the same face structure; she's a perfect replica of the last Alice - in attitude and everything."
I arched an eyebrow at their strange conversation but didn't ask; when Amber was about to ask, I clapped my hand over her mouth, gesturing for her to be quiet. I didn't want to be rude and demand to know what they were talking about if it was confidential and they didn't want other people to know about it; I figured that they would tell us if they meant for us to know about it.
The blonde boy peered at me before grinning brilliantly. "I think you are right, Damien," he said, turning to the black-haired boy. Then he turned back to me. "May I ask your name?"
"This is Amber, and I'm Bryony," I said, almost blushing under his furious scrutiny.
"I'm Blayke, and this is Damien," the blonde boy said, gesturing to himself then to his dark-haired friend.
"Now that we've gotten introductions out of the way, shall we go to Marble Terrace Coffee for coffee and cake?" Damien asked, and I blinked.
"Marble Terrace Coffee?" I repeated. "I've never heard of it."
Blayke turned to look at me, his light blue eyes shimmering with mischief. "Well, where do you guys go to for coffee then? Starbucks?"
I shook my head. "We always go to the coffee shop attached to 32 Below," I explained, and Blayke snorted.
"The ice cream place? I'll admit their ice cream is good, but their coffee is trash. Come on, Damien and I will show you real coffee," he said, smirking.
"What is 'real coffee'?" Amber asked, putting air quotes around the words 'real coffee'.
Damien smirked. "You'll see."
I rolled my eyes. "It can't be that good, and 32 Below's coffee isn't terrible; it's actually pretty good."
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"This is amazing," I said, taking another sip of the rich, creamy white chocolate mocha. It tasted like coffee but had a sweet aftertaste, instead of the bitter one that usually accompanied coffee from 32 Below. This was different coffee, and tasted much better. It tasted like white chocolate with a slight twist; there was something underlying the taste of white chocolate, something like cinnamon. Whatever it was, I loved it.
Damien and Blayke both smirked at me, and I glared at them, gritting my teeth as I blushed, furious with myself for letting them make me blush like they did.
"Shut up," I said, downing the rest of the white mocha Blayke had bought me. "Don't give me that 'I-told-you-so' look."
They both chuckled, and Damien reached over to ruffle my hair.
"Whatever you want, little tiger," he teased, and I blushed, biting down on the stirring straw I'd been given by the people at the counter of the coffee shop the two had taken Amber and me to.
"Don't call me that," I said, glaring at him fiercely, and Amber bit her lip, anxious to see that I kept my promise.
"What, would you prefer I call you little sprout?" Damien asked, referring to the meaning of my name as he teased me like we had been friends for forever.
I hunched down in my chair as I pretended not to be flattered that he was giving me a sweet nickname, scowling darkly, glaring at nothing in particular.
"She is now plotting your murder, Damien," Amber informed the dark-haired boy, only half-joking. "Judging by that dark scowl, I'm guessing it's going to be an elaborate murder plot that involves stringing your innards over the outside of this coffee shop to warn away anyone who wants to call her that nickname."
Damien's eyes widened. "That's quite . . ." He gulped, but I could see the joking light in his eyes, shimmering like a dark jewel. "Interesting. How is she planning on killing me?"
"You'll still be alive while she/I rip out your innards," Amber and I said together, and Blayke leaned forward, his attention piqued.
"As interested I am in hearing about Damien's demise at the hands of Bryony, I was wondering, Amber, Bryony, how is it that you know what each other is thinking?" he asked, smirking, and Amber and I looked at each other, smirking as well.
"We're mental and emotional twins, and some people suspect that we're physical twins since we look so similar," we said in unison, looking back at the blonde boy at exactly the same time. "We just think on the same frequency, whereas others think on different."
Blayke blinked his blue eyes. "That's very interesting," he said, resting his chin on his interlocked fingers - the perfect picture of interest. "What else can the two of you do?"
"Kill people," Amber and I said, and Damien gulped again - still only joking, but only I and Blayke had realized that.
We looked at each other, Amber and I, and we both burst out laughing. I turned to look at the two boys sitting across from me.
"Nah," I said, waving my hand. "We've never actually murdered anyone, and neither of us plans on murdering anyone anytime soon, not unless they really piss us off."
Amber looked down at her watch and jolted upwards into a standing position. "It's late," she said, her lovely, heart-shaped face twisted into an expression of worry and stress. "If I don't get home soon, my dad's going to worry himself to death. See you tomorrow, Bryony. It was nice to meet you, Blayke, Damien. Bryony, try not to kill Damien; I'm not losing you to prison."
I mock-saluted her with two fingers, and she did the same. We looked at each other and giggled. Then she left, exiting the door with a gentle swish of her hips to try to taunt the two boys sitting across from me.
I turned back to the two boys in front of me, but both of them were standing by my side, having ignored Amber's taunting with ease. Blayke offered me a hand, giving me a smirk that spoke volumes; he had ignored Amber because I was so much more attractive to him was what his eyes said, but I was sure that I had read the message his eyes spoke wrong. I wasn't that attractive that any good-looking guys like Damien or Blayke would pay any attention to me, but somehow they were.
"How about Damien and I drive you home?" he offered, and I nodded slowly, somehow entranced by his light blue eyes glimmering in the artificial light overhead.
There was just something mystical about the way his eyes lit up with a gentle light of mischief, even in the harsh light of the artificial overhead lights. His eyes were entrancing; once you looked into their bottomless depths, you were swimming. You never wanted to leave the pool of emotion hiding in his eyes; it was just magical. It was as if he belonged in a fantasy realm, with eyes that enchanted the beholder in a stupor that seemed to never end.
I blinked, and the stupor was lost. I took his hand, and Blayke pulled me to my feet. He and Damien then guided me out of the coffee shop, Damien with his hand on the small of my back, and Blayke gently tugging on my hand he hadn't let go of, to their car. It was a silver Mercedes Dreamer, a car that I had been dreaming of getting for so long.
I gaped at the amazing car. "Oh, my God," I said, my eyes wide. "This is an amazing car. I've always wanted one. The Mercedes Dreamer, right?"
Blayke and Damien were both smirking at my expression of amazement, but they both nodded, still wearing their stupid smirks that were somehow so attractive to me. I blushed at the thought and bit the inside of my cheek, turning back to the car.
Blayke walked past me and opened the passenger door. He gestured to
it widely, bowing to me. "Milady," he said, his eyes teasing me.
"Thank you, Jeeves," I said, teasing him right back as I slid into the seat.
Blayke chuckled and gave me a half-smirk, half-smile that was just so amazingly attractive it took my breath away. "My pleasure, milady." He closed my door, and Damien climbed into the driver's seat.
"Where to, milady?" he asked, smirking at me.
"8024 Red Falls Avenue," I said, somehow trusting these boys with my address - and my life, for that matter!
"Got it," Damien said, nodding as he started the car.
As soon as the car came on, my favorite Carrie Underwood song came on: "Before He Cheats". I opened the CD compartment after the song had ended and found my favorite album by Carrie Underwood: "Some Hearts" inside. I blinked but thought nothing of it; to me, it was just a huge coincidence.
Blayke leaned forward from the back seat, examining the CD I was still holding. He looked at me and smirked. "You like Carrie Underwood? I love her, but Damien doesn't like her so much. I think he's crazy. I love her song, 'Jesus Take the Wheel'. It's my favorite, other than 'Before He Cheats'. 'Before He Cheats' is just a classic," he said, and the both of us engaged in a discussion on Carrie Underwood after I had reinserted the CD into the CD compartment.
The drive was over quickly, and I bid an unwilling farewell to the two boys. I walked into the house, and as usual, it was empty. My dad was out drinking - as usual -, and my mother was still in the asylum. I sighed; and Amber had said I didn't have a disturbing childhood. I was always alone, and no one ever wanted to be with me.
I remembered something I had to tell the two boys, but when I raced out of the house, still dressed in my winter gear, they were gone, as if they had never been there at all. I blinked in surprise and went back inside.
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He watched over the brunette as she slept in her bed, her slender legs tangled in the white bed-sheets. He kissed her forehead gently, brushing his lips against the skin of her forehead with such gentleness he could have been a butterfly simply landing on her forehead. "Sleep well, my angel," he said, murmuring his words in her ear. "Soon, you will fall down the rabbit hole, and you will be in my arms once more."
She rolled over, murmuring his name in her sleep. "Seth."
Chapter 6:
The Car and the Letter
The day after the day that I spent with Blayke and Damien, that morning I woke up to find a pair of keys on my redwood dresser sitting in the corner of my room. I sat up in bed abruptly, so fast that my head swam for a few seconds, and blinked. The keys were still there, resting on top of one of my many, many, many drawings of the Dark Prince; I felt as though the character of the Dark Prince was something - rather someone - important to me, but I couldn't remember who it was or why they were important to me. I rubbed my eyes with my fists, but they were still there.
I tossed the covers to the side and climbed out of bed, already dressed as I had gone to bed in my clothing from yesterday; it was late when I got home and I was too tired to change into jammies. I walked over to my dresser and picked up the keys. Carved into the thick key ring was a line of characters in Egyptian that my visions translated into: "For you, Bryony." My eyes widened and I gasped.
"H-how?" I stammered, staring at the keys resting in my palm.
Then I noticed beneath the keys where my drawing was, in the corner there was writing. "Good job, Bryony. You pretty accurately represented him. All you're missing is the face. Well, spoilers I guess. You'll find out soon enough. Hope his phone call didn't disturb you too much," it read, and I examined the drawing as my heart leapt into my throat at the mention of the phone call that I had gotten a couple of days ago, during the week; it was Saturday morning now. It was of the Dark Prince, in all of his dark and almost disturbing glory, holding out a black rose to the person viewing the drawing. His face was shadowed and you couldn't see it, only because I couldn't see the prince's face myself. But you could see his lips, and they were curled upwards into a twisted smile, with fangs stained red with blood revealed from under healthy colored lips - if not a bit pale.
I turned to see, written on my wall in silver, curling letters a cryptic message: "Fall down the rabbit hole and discover what is inside. Inside the world of your delusions, you will find the one who you seek. We are waiting. Hurry and jump into the rabbit hole; that's where it all began, and where it all will end. Good luck. -S"
Suddenly my silver flip phone, which was resting on my dresser beside my pile of drawings of the characters living in my imagination, began to ring, disrupting the eerie silence, that surely terrified me, with the first few bars of "Under" by Godspeed. I turned away from the message in silver glaring at me in the soft glow of the beautiful, rising sun and grabbed my phone, lifting it to my ear. "Hello?"
"Have you seen the car outside your house?" Amber demanded on the other side of the phone, and I blinked.
"What, no 'good morning' or 'hello'?" I asked, leaning against the window sill.
"Good morning, Bryony," Amber said begrudgingly.
"Good morning to you, too, Amber," I said, smiling though she couldn't see it through the phone.
"I wish I could reach through this phone to smack the Hell out of you; I swear to God, you are so annoying," Amber grumbled, and I chuckled.
"Good luck on that," I said, smirking.
"Now, have you looked at the car sitting outside your house? It's parked in the driveway. Look out the window. I'm serious," Amber demanded, and I peered out the window through a crack in the red blinds.
Outside, sitting in the driveway was the same silver Mercedes Dream that I got a ride in from Blayke and Damien. I knew it was the same because there was the same scrape on the passenger side door that Damien caused when we were driving home by being reckless; he wasn't a very good driver, and when he caused that scrape, it scared me half to death. Needless to say, I whacked him on the shoulder for that one.
Anyway, so I managed to lift my phone to my ear and mumble, "I'll talk to you later" before I dropped my phone, racing out the door. I bounded down the stairs and out to the car, unlocking it with the keys the boys had, no doubt, left on my dresser. I climbed into the driver's seat of the car, running a hand over the red leather of the steering wheel. The more that I examined the car, the more that I found that the car had been changed from its original, simple design to a crazy one - with red and black checkered patterns everywhere - that I myself would have chosen. I smiled; those boys knew me so well, though we had only met once.
I explored the car's interior with my hands, curiously, until I found a sharp edge sticking out from under the wheel. I grabbed at the sharp edge and withdrew whatever it was so that I could see it. I blinked; it was a letter, addressed to me. I slid my finger under the cover of the envelope and gently tore it open. The paper within the simple and plain white envelope was red, a dark scarlet with scribbled letters in dark ink printed on to the paper so hard that you could feel it on the other side of the paper.
I lifted the red paper free of the envelope and leaned back against the padded seat that was now dyed red. A metal key fell into my lap, but I ignored it for the moment. I then began to read what was printed on to the paper.
"Dear lovely Bryony, I know that when you receive this letter that it will be on the Eve of the Day. I always have trusted those two idiots, Damien and Blayke, to do exactly I instructed. While they are stupid, they are extremely useful and have too much respect for me to let me down. I will give you an address and you must go there, understand? This is imperative. We will all die if you don't go to the address 7666 Baneful Lane. We need you, darling Bryony. Look in the backyard, find the rabbit hole. Come down; I am inside the rabbit hole. We need you, Bryony. Come. Oh, and I apologize for the scare I must have given you with that phone call. -S"
My eyes widened and I inserted the key into the ignition. I turned the key and the car's engine started with a soft purr. I pulled out of the driveway and drove dow
n the street at the highest speed I could go without getting a ticket from the police who never visited our street in Jackson, Wyoming.
Chapter 7:
Down the Rabbit Hole
I examined the key that had been in the envelope, twisting it to see every angle. It was a Victorian era kind of key, made of copper mixed with small flowers made of gold on the ends, with a complicated design above the metal bar that had the teeth of the key on the end. The design twisted on itself in the design of ivy wrapping around a cold metal heart. The center of the heart was hollowed out and there was a thin, silver chain going through the hole. I fastened the chain around my neck, and the key fell against my bare collarbone, cold and hard, a reminder of what I was about to do.
I looked at the house. It was Victorian era, with a low-hanging porch and lots of balconies. The trimming was gold while the rest of the house was painted a light pink; somehow the colors merged together to create an image of royalty and honor. The balconies were lined with gold railing, and ivy was draped over the railing, woven in between the bars of the railing with the grace and beauty that only ivy can accomplish. Ivy, blooming with pink flowers, crept up the sides of the house, looping around so that it barely touched the front of the house. There was a tower with a cross on top of it, and next to that were two chimneys. The door, in the shade of the rest of the house, was made of weathered oak that somehow was still standing. The steps leading up to the door looked as though they were rotting, but I trusted my mysterious guide; he would not let me fall, for then I wouldn't come to his 'Wonderland'.
I walked up the steps, thankful for the cool shade that was such a contrast to the hot sun overhead. I walked up to the door and tried the knob, but it wouldn't open; it was as though it was stuck. Part of me wanted to abandon the quest, giving up, throwing my arms up into the air, and saying I had tried. But I couldn't do that; something pushed me to go on, to ram the side of my body into the door. I did this several times until there was a loud cracking noise. I jumped back and watched with surprise as the door collapsed inwards, shattering upon contact with the floor inside in a poof of dust and wood shavings.
