Malice in Wonderland Bundle 3

by Lotus Rose

  “But you said I’ll forget it all.”

  The Queen of Hearts shrugs. “That doesn’t affect our agreement. I answered your questions. You aren’t going to be dishonorable, and renege, are you? I mean, your heart is still keeping you moral, correct?”

  Malice sighs. “Yes, the black rose is merely taking the edge off any super-sappiness. Oh, but wait, I do have one more question.”

  “I’ve answered all the questions I’m obligated to.”

  “Well I hope you’ll answer anyway. Do you happen to know of someone known as the Tin Knight?”

  The Queen of Hearts narrows her eyes at her. “You don’t need to know.”

  “Why not?”

  “Just pray you never meet the Tin Knight. It would only complicate your life.”

  “Why?” Malice says.

  “Why do you wish to know?”

  “Are you asking me questions now?”

  “Bah. I tire of this. I want my kiss.”

  “Oh, very well. I don’t want to waste any more time talking to you if I shall just forget it all. Prepare for your kiss, and don’t think I shall enjoy this.”

  CHAPTER TEN

  MALICE IS DETERMINED that the repugnant kiss with the Queen of Hearts shan’t be the last kiss of the day. After lunch, in her chambers, she grabs paper and a pen, and begins writing. First, despite what the Queen of Hearts said, she attempts to write down the history of Woeland. The Cheshire Cat hovers there, aiding her memory.

  However, when she writes the words, no matter how hard she tries, she ends up writing gibberish.

  Having tried that, she moves on to the next part of her agenda: writing a couple of scenes in her play.

  The Cat helps out as her feline creative consultant. She is driven by the divine inspiration of the rose.

  Half an hour later, she rushes into one of the courtyards to pester Hatter and Humpty.

  Malice waits for Hatter to make his shot.

  Hatter lands his arrow a bit to the right of the bullseye. “Drat!” he exclaims.

  Malice says, “Okay, your game is on hold. For I have written a scene of a play. The Cat helped me. I wrote parts for you two blokes, and the Cat as well. We must play the scene, immediately!” She smiles crookedly at them.

  Hatter and Humpty glance at each other, indecisive.

  Malice exclaims, “Oh come on, you two! You can shoot your little arrows any time. You don’t want to offend me, now, do you?”

  “Very well, then,” Hatter says.

  Humpty says, “Yes, I’m sure it shall be a jolly good show.” He peers at the papers in her hand. “Is that the script?”

  Malice says, “Yes, I have one for each of you, with only your own lines written out, to keep it exciting. But I don’t want you to study them or read ahead. It’ll be more fun that way!” She hands them each a piece of paper. “Now...I shall set up the scene. Oh no!” She points at the Cat, and recites her line: “’Tis one who dances with darkness. A witch, who has snuck into my bedroom here.” She murmurs, “Imagine we’re in my bedroom and I am dressed in my skimpy nightgown. Be polite where your eyes travel, lads.” She winks.

  Hatter smirks and Humpty gives forth two little coughs.

  Reading from the paper, Hatter says, “Dastardly practitioner of the dark arts, what is this ‘kissing magic’ of which you speak?”

  “No no, you don’t say that line yet,” Malice says. “I’ll tell you when. Where was I? Oh yeah, look, a witch!” After pointing at the Cat, who is rolling his eyes, she turns to the guard card, and holds her hand up, palm up.

  “Yes, My Queen,” the guard card says. He reaches into his bag and pulls out a pointed black witch’s hat.

  She places it atop the Cat’s head, who hams it up, putting on a fierce, fang-baring face. But he must remain relatively still to keep the hat in place.

  Malice says, “When you’re done trying to scare us, it’s your line.”

  “Oh, righto!” the Cat says. “Behold! As I put you under a deadly spell of slumber... Beezuuuu!”

  Malice engages in acting. She looks about, twisting her head from side to side, causing her long black hair to flare. “Wha—?! You! No! Why, whatever is coming over me?! It is, as...if...as if... I am suddenly seduced by the irresistible lure of that mimicry of death. O sleep, you doth claim me!” She presses the back of her hand to her forehead and swoons, as the Cat delivers his best theatric cackle (which isn’t that good). In fact, Hatter giggles a bit at it, before saying, “My apologies.”

  Malice stretches her arms and pretends to yawn, but she finds it’s actually quite hard to act as if you’re yawning when you’ve never attempted to do so. Usually yawning simply happens, like a reflex. Nonetheless, the show must go on... “Oh, the comfort of oblivious slumber beckons me. I know it is a spell that compels me, yet I cannot escape its snare, and so I tumble into the dark abyss of sleep.” She presses her hands together and tilts her head, pretending to lay her head down to sleep, though she is still standing. The magic of acting.

  Malice perks up from her pretend sleep. “Now, in this part, the two handsome heroes whose parts you’re playing, named Himpley and the Mud Hunter—”

  “What’s a Mud Hunter anyway?” Hatter says.

  Malice, ignoring him, continues, “Those two heroes burst into the room.”

  “I burst!” Hatter exclaims, punching and kicking through an imaginary door.

  “Excellent acting!” Malice encourages.

  “Thank you, Your Royalship,” Hatter says.

  Humpty stands behind him, while saying, “And I suppose I follow him in. But praytell, why does he hunt mud? Or am I misconstruing something? I’m so confused.”

  “It’s just his silly name,” Malice says. “It means nothing.”

  “Ah,” Hatter says, “if that’s the case, might I change my character’s name to ‘The Mad Hatter’?”

  Malice shakes her head and shushes him. “Please stick to your lines. Witch, it’s your turn to speak.”

  “Oh, is it?” the Cat says. “Yes, um, let me remember my lines. Oh yes...” He lets forth a theatric cackle. “Ah, the two handsome heroes have arrived to rescue the amazing, beautiful, and alluring damsel. Sorry, Malice insisted on keeping that line. Anyway, you two blokes—”

  Malice interrupts, “Daring heroes. That’s the proper line.”

  The Cat gives a long-suffering huff, before relinquishing. “You two daring heroes are much too late to rescue the ridiculously beautiful and sexy 19-year-old damsel.”

  Hatter and Humpty chuckle a little, but Malice shoots them a look so they remain quiet, before going back to pretend sleep.

  The Cat/Witch continues, “For I have cast a spell of slumber upon her!” Another cackle. “The only thing that can awaken her is ‘kissing magic’! And if it isn’t invoked immediately, the ravishing damsel’s slumber shall soon slip into the dark eternity of death.”

  Malice grins in her “sleep”. She was quite pleased with herself for writing that glorious line—the black rose had inspired her.

  The Cat continues, “Her slumber is no mere catnap. Get it? Because I’m a cat.”

  Malice opens her eyes briefly to glower at him.

  The Cat says, “Oh, have I gone off script? How naughty of me. Here’s my next line then—”

  Malice is forced to open her eyes once again. “No! It’s Hatty’s line.”

  Hatter says, “Actually, Miss 19-year-old damsel, the name’s Hunter.” He peers down at his paper and squints. “Dastardly practitioner of the dark arts, what is this ‘kissing magic’ of which you speak?”

  The Cat answers, “Only a kiss upon the lips by two handsome men in the vicinity of the enthralling damsel’s enchanting body may revive her. And if it’s not done within the next minute, she shall die! Mwah hah hah.” Cackle cackle. He moves his head too much, causing his hat to slip off. “Oh bother.”

  Humpty reads his next line: “You fiend, what do you mean the kiss can be ‘near the damsel’s body’?”

&
nbsp; “Thank you,” the Cat says as Hatter sets the hat back atop his head. He continues orating theatrically. “According to the conditions of the spell, it is required that two sexy guys press their lips to another’s lips. To make it clear, they don’t necessarily have to kiss the damsel’s lips. And there are four sets of lips in this room...”

  Malice closes her eyes again, as Hatter reads: “You’re saying we can kiss you? Do you want us to?”

  The Cat lets forth a feline hiss. “Of course not! I won’t let you. Of course, according to the process of elimination, if you don’t kiss the damsel...there are two other pairs of lips.”

  Humpty’s voice sounds genuinely alarmed as he recites his line. “You wish us to kiss each other?”

  Malice opens one eye to see Hatter and Humpty exchanging embarrassed glances.

  Malice giggles, and closes her eye again.

  Humpty says, “This play is ridiculous. It’s unrealistic.”

  Out of the side of her mouth, Malice mutters, “Don’t break character.”

  Hatter recites his next line. “I have no desire to kiss him, so I shall kiss the lovely damsel.” He breaks character to say, “You’re still too young, Malice.”

  With her eyes still closed, Malice mutters out the side of her mouth, “I’m 19.” She pretends to be sleeping like a log.

  Hatter says, “The script states that my character now kisses you after gazing at you and saying, ‘Oh what a thing of beauty it is that lies before me’.”

  Malice doesn’t respond but a grin creeps up the side of her “sleeping” face.

  Humpty says, “Wouldn’t the ‘witch’ try to stop him? It makes no sense.”

  “It’s make-believe,” Malice says out the side of her mouth.

  Hatter says, “Oh, so you’re 19 as far as my character is concerned. How clever of you. I have to give it to you, you didn’t give up, did you? Just kept going until you got your way. Fine, since it’s just a kiss—nothing romantic—and you’re ‘19’. Fine, I give in. You win.”

  Malice knows that isn’t what his line is supposed to be. On the paper, his line reads: “I cannot resist her delectable lips!”, then he’s supposed to kiss her, but in this instance she’ll let it pass.

  She feels soft lips press against her own for several seconds, then pull away.

  Even though she’s dying to open her eyes, she manages to keep them shut. The grin aside her face grows.

  She waits impatiently. Humpty’s line is next—she doesn’t want to spook him.

  Humpty reads: “You cad! You have feasted upon the divine ambrosia of the sleeping angel’s lips, and the jealousy within me is like a fire inside!”

  Before, his recital of his lines had seemed wooden, but just now he’d delivered his line quite convincingly.

  Humpty continues, “I must taste the glorious nectar of this perfect girl’s lips myself. She is like a pussycat whose lips are covered with catnip!” (The Cat had insisted on putting that line in.) “And so now I shall kiss her and enter into the heavenly clouds of her pillowy lips!”

  Malice waits, with her eyes closed. She hears Humpty move close to her, and his quickening breaths.

  Humpty is hesitating.

  Malice waits. Any moment now...

  Humpty exclaims, “No! I can’t do it. I won’t!”

  Malice opens her eyes to gaze at him as he says, “I know you really want me to, and you think it’s just a play, but... I didn’t— I don’t want it— I don’t want my kisses with you to be...like this... Not like this!”

  Malice puts her hand upon her hip as she watches him running off the courtyard. “Crikey!” she exclaims. “Such a dramatic improvisation!” But now she is mulling over his words, and suddenly the meaning behind them strike home. “Aww...my dear sappy Humpty...” She sighs to herself.

  Hatter exclaims, “The poor sod doesn’t know what he’s missing! Now I know what you meant when you called the effects a kind of madness. Why, this is a madness even more delicious than my usual sort!”

  The Cat says, “Hate to interrupt, but play’s over, I’m bored. So, cheerio.”

  No one pays attention as he disappears.

  May as well have fun, make the best of the situation and all. “I’m glad you came around, Hatty. So, now that you’re in a proper intoxicated state with me, care to have a bit of proper mad fun, and bash things about this evening?”

  “That would be smashing, dahling.”

  “Then let the festivities begin!”

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  HATTER AND MALICE GIVE in to the wild abandon of the black rose’s intoxication.

  They spend about half an hour dancing and running about the castle.

  The Cheshire Cat is their official observer, watching gleefully as the two wreak havoc.

  They decide to go room to room turning the furniture upside down. Of course, that means a lot of items end up being spilled upon the floor, but that doesn’t bother Malice, because she’s focused. And no one better complain, for, as she declares, “It is Her Majesty’s Pleasure!” She shouts it out as a bit of a joke, but soon enough, she starts yelling a variation of the phrase before each piece of furniture.

  “I flip this chair at Her Majesty’s Pleasure!”

  “I claim this stool for Her Majesty’s Pleasure!”

  “By the power of Her Majesty’s Pleasure!” she shouts before she and Hatter both flip a table, sending a vase and various papers sprawling.

  Soon Hatter joins in on the shouting, as they travel from room to room.

  He says, “For Her Majesty’s Pleasure!” before flipping a three legged console table in one of the hallways.

  He calls out, “I vanquish this sofa for Her Majesty’s Pleasure!” before pushing it over.

  And Malice and Hatter are cackling and guffawing as they meander room to room. They seek additional company, but everyone is a stick in the mud and don’t join in. The guard cards watch on blankly, trying not to look upset—they’ll be cleaning the mess later, so it would feel awkward to ask them to participate.

  “Humpty!” they both call out.

  “Come join us!”

  “Yes, come have some fun!”

  But he doesn’t reply to their calls.

  At one point, Malice sees Humpty peek out at them from a corner.

  “Humpty!” she calls. “Please join us!”

  But Humpty shakes his head and retreats back down the hallway.

  “Wait, come back!” Malice calls.

  “Yeah, come back!” Hatter adds.

  No response from Humpty.

  The Cheshire Cat is floating there and she could send him out to fetch Humpty, but he’d most likely refuse, since he always claims he’s an observer who doesn’t interfere with others and their choices. So Malice doesn’t bother trying.

  She calls out after Humpty, “You’d really enjoy this if you let me get you drunk on my kiss!”

  There’s no response from Humpty.

  Malice looks to Hatter, who shrugs and says, “Perhaps the lad is intimidated by your gloriousness. It’s perfectly understandable.

  Malice gnaws at her lip. “Am I truly so intimidating?”

  “No. Now that you have your psychotic episodes under control, you’re quite pleasant. The boy is just quite shy, I think.”

  Malice huffs. “A boy. That’s the gist of it, isn’t it? Perhaps he’s too much of a boy to handle me. He’s not yet mature, like you, Hatty.” She looks meaningfully into his eyes.

  Hatter clears his throat nervously. “You have a ways to go yourself. But I’m sure you’ll mature a lot in the next few years.”

  Malice arches a brow. “And in a few years, you shan’t be so reluctant to kiss me?”

  He looks away. “It’s quite too early to speculate. But as for now...we have a lot more furniture to upturn.”

  “For Her Majesty’s Pleasure?” Malice teases, with an arched brow.

  Hatter seems, to Malice, to be trying to collect himself, as if he’s embarrassed. “Of course
,” he says, before turning over a chair.

  Malice watches his movements, and suddenly becomes enthralled by his motions.

  And the jolt of poetic inspiration flows through her, as if she’s crackling with the electricity of poetry.

  She’s in a daze, as the words flow into her mind, perfectly formed—she need only recite them:

  “HATTER VENTURES FORTH, bravely flipping chairs.

  There’s simply no escape.

  Not one chair even dares!

  Heroically, he’s flipping tables,

  Just like some hero from the fables.

  With all his rakish furniture turning,

  He’s bound to set a naughty heart yearning.”

  HATTER STARTS TO LAUGH, but he stops when he sees the expression on her face and the look in her eyes.

  His mouth clamps shut and a puzzled expression comes over his face.

  Malice figures he must’ve seen the seriousness she’d tried to hide behind the jokiness of a silly poem.

  Hatter says, “You flatter me. But the truth is, many hearts are intoxicated to the point of making foolish mistakes...”

  “Sometimes intoxication merely intensifies what was already there...”

  “Malice, stop this silly talk. We both know you’re feeling the effects of the black rose, so I shall be more understanding of your indiscretion. I’m old compared to you. And also, I’m quite mad...”

  “We’re all mad here,” Malice says, repeating a phrase the Cheshire Cat likes to say.

  “However, I am particularly mad. It’s even in my name.”

  “I’ve grown rather fond of your madness. I find it interesting. At least it’s not boring and normal...” She sticks out her tongue whilst making a yuck face.

  Hatter crosses his arms, says, “I shan’t continue with this sort of nonsense. At present, I prefer a quite different sort, having to do with setting tables’ and chairs’ legs pointed straight up. Why, they’re like cockroaches set upon their backs!” He takes a few moments to ponder his own words. “My, what disturbing images are coursing through my mind right now! Such wiggly furniture legs!” He shudders and hugs himself for the consolation.