Malice in Wonderland Bundle 2

by Lotus Rose

  “You idiot!” Malice yells down at him, but she’s not sure he’s conscious—his eyes are closed. “Now do you see?! Didn’t I try to stop you?”

  He glows and disappears.

  “Confound it!” Malice stomps her feet. “And that was my last servant, too!” She glares up at the hilltop and the two bloodsuckers are laughing at her.

  Jill holds the key and shakes it. “You’ll be wanting this, then. After all, you fulfilled the condition. You gave up the boy.”

  Malice perks up. “You’re still going to give me the key?”

  “Yes,” she says. “We are bound by the Rules of Story.” She tosses it and Malice catches it.

  Malice says, “Well, at least something good came of that fool’s death.”

  Jill shrugs.

  The Cat says, “I shall miss him.”

  “Cat,” Malice says, “you saved me.”

  “Of course, My Queen. You’re my queen, of course.”

  She nods. “Quite. I am grateful to be alive, don’t get me wrong. But I thought you weren’t to interfere.”

  “I’m not supposed to, but I couldn’t let you be killed. You’re my favorite human. But, shhh, it’ll be our secret that I interfered, okay?”

  “Very well, it’s our secret.” She reaches out and rubs under his chin.

  While he purrs in contentment, she says, “I do value you. You’re the last one left. But you’ll have to wait for my heart to turn back on for all the mushy stuff.”

  “That’s quite alright, My Queen, I’m just glad you’re still alive. I’d hate to ever lose you.”

  She pats his head. “Well, my companion, let’s see what awaits us on the other side of that door.”

  Chapter 36

  After unlocking the door and stepping through the archway labeled Win, the area around Malice and the Cat shifts to that of a flat grass field.

  The Storyteller stands in front of them, holding a glittering, jeweled tiara. In front of him, off to the sides are numerous glass coffins set upon daises. Inside each coffin is a dead former participant in the game.

  She sees Humpty, Hatter, the Tweedle Twins, and the Knight. They all look serene and unharmed, as if they’re merely sleeping, though she thinks if the Hatter was alive, he’d make a bit of a fuss about the back brim of his hat being mashed.

  The Storyteller beckons. “Come closer, Queen. You’ve won, young lady. You won’t be needing that anymore,” he says, referring to the branch in her hand. “The Queen of Hearts should be along shortly. She thought she was going to a square marked, Thumb, but since you won, she’ll be redirected here.”

  Malice tosses the branch aside, approaches and finds herself staring at Humpty—he seems unstabbed, unlike how he’d seemed a few moments ago.

  The Storyteller says, “Ah, the glass coffins. They occur often in fairy tales. Very handy for showing off bodies.”

  She says, “But often the princess inside them ends up being revived.”

  He nods. “Yes, quite often they are. And so too may all of these corpses be. Ah, there they are.”

  Malice looks behind her to see the Queen of Hearts and Brothers Grimm approaching.

  “Hello again, loser,” Malice says as they take their place next to her.

  “Yes,” says the Storyteller, “you lost. Malice, as the winner, I declare you Queen of Wonderland. All the guard cards shall now follow you, and you shall inhabit the castle.”

  She bows her head for him to place the tiara atop it, after which she says, “You said the stiffs may be revived.” She hears the Cat huff. She knows she’s being insensitive, but she can’t help it—her heart is turned off.

  The Storyteller says, “Yes, when you are all returned to Wonderland, they too shall go to their own areas where they shall reawaken.”

  “Oh!” Malice exclaims. “They shall be alive again.”

  “In a way. They each died after being bitten by a fairy tale being. After a period of incubation, they shall rise again, with one little catch.”

  “Which is?”

  “They shall be in a state of combination with the fairy tale essence inside of them. It shall be like a poison, that’ll twist them, and shall need to be driven out of them if you wish to return them to how they were.”

  Malice sighs. “I suppose I should just be grateful there’s a chance to get them back. So how would I drive the fairy tale poison out of them, then?”

  “You must drive a stake into their hearts to kill the fairy tale part of them and allow their non-fairy-tale parts to reassert.”

  Malice blinks. “Seriously?”

  The Queen of Hearts titters. “It’s like some silly penny dreadful vampire story.”

  The Storyteller answers Malice, “Quite.”

  Malice protests, “But why? I shall have to track them down…then stake them. It all seems needlessly complicated. Did you have any part in this?”

  “Well, I am the Storyteller, my dear. I thought the whole affair would make for a very interesting story. Why, you didn’t think you were done, did you? Why, my dear, we’re only 2/3 of the way through this whole story arc.”

  Malice rolls her eyes. “Oh, fine. I’ll be able to regain their companionship at least. It just seems a bit contrived.”

  “Aren’t you used to things being contrived? You’re from Wonderland! But enough about the stiffs, I mean deceased. Now I wish to reveal to you the fairy tale beings’ fates, and the fairy talenado! So I shall scatter the deceased.” He raises his hands that crackle with electricity as the glass coffins levitate in the air.

  It is a glorious spectacle and Malice wonders when the Storyteller attained such powers—why, he’s like a wizard!

  The Storyteller intones, “Now, whirl, my dead, stiff heroes!” The coffins begin circling like water down a drain. “Whirl!” The coffins spin wildly in a howling funnel of wind. “Now, scatter! Scatter throughout Wonderland, my little hybrids, to land throughout Wonderland and await what story shall befall you!”

  With a wave of his hand, the coffins zip away, disappearing into the sky.

  “Little hybrids?” Malice asks.

  “Yes,” he says, “they shall take on some of the characteristics of whichever fairy tale bit them.”

  “Fairy talenado?” the Queen of Hearts asks.

  “Yes,” he says, “when you killed the fairy tale beings, it sent each of them out of Wonderland through the Looking Glass portal. Each of them you killed weakened the mirror more and more, until now, it is almost at the breaking point. The barrier between our two worlds that has been holding the fairy tale beings at bay is about to come down, which has caused all the fairy tale beings to energize into a very peculiar phenomenon I have taken to calling…” He raises his hand and snaps his fingers, causing their surroundings to instantly shift. “…the fairy talenado!”

  They are inside the room of the Looking Glass House where the Looking Glass is kept. Near the top of the ceiling, is a little howling whirlwind, inside of which spin little figures—Malice makes out an occasional princess, wolf, or monster—typical fairy tale beings. There must be dozens and dozens of these little beings spinning around.

  Malice says, “More like a fairy tale dust devil.”

  “Ah,” says the Storyteller. “Yes, it is a rather small wind funnel, but I believe the size of it shrank to accommodate the measurements of the room.”

  The Cat flies up and peers at the spinning funnel of beings with a puzzled expression—Malice wonders if he’ll try to eat one of the bite-sized fairy tale morsels.

  The Queen of Hearts says, “If they all go through the mirror, will we finally be rid of all those flying buzzing gnats?”

  “I believe so, most of them, at least,” he answers. “They are merely waiting for the barrier to be shattered. Each fairy tale you two killed weakened the integrity of the mirror. One final act is required. I thought it would be fitting to give Queen Malice the honors.” He points to something on a table—it’s the broken snowglobe.

  The Queen
of Hearts puts her hand on her hip. “What? Why does she get to do it? Why can’t I?”

  “Because you lost the contest,” the Storyteller answers. “To the winner goes the perks.”

  The Queen of Hearts harrumphs.

  The Storyteller points at the broken snowglobe. “That is the special object that must be used, since it held Fairy Tale Land inside, when my dear daughter was still at my side…” He appears lost in thought for several moments. “Malice, if you throw that snowglobe and crack the mirror, all the twisted fairy tale beings shall be unleashed into the outside world to wreak havoc unto them.”

  Malice says, “And to try to kill Alice.”

  The Storyteller answers, “Quite. For it is foretold she shall be the Fairy Tale Slayer, and so, she’s the natural enemy of the twisted fairy tales. But the fairy tales are bound by the Rules of Story and shall only be able to attack Alice one at a time, plus there’s the fact that you have seriously messed up the time interaction between our two worlds, so I suspect that they shall arrive in the outside world at various months and years.”

  Malice shrugs. “T’is of no matter to me, so long as I get these fairy tale n’er-do-wells out of my hair. Sod the lot of them!”

  The Storyteller bows, and flourishes a hand toward the snowglobe. “Well, simply toss it into the Looking Glass to crack it. Not full throttle, mind you. A medium intensity shall suffice.”

  Malice nods. “Gladly.”

  The Cat says, “My Queen, I must caution you to consider Miss Alice. All the fairy tales shall try to kill her.”

  “Oh, sod off, furball! Would you rather I let the twisted fairy tales continue to reside in Wonderland? No, let Alice fend for herself. And before you try it, I won’t tolerate your little head-booping trick to try to turn my heart back on. It’s either us, or them, her or us. Got it?”

  “Quite,” the Cat says, with a tight mouth.

  “Oh, don’t be like that, Cat. You are my dearest living companion. But we need to be rid of these fairy tale pests.” And with that proclamation, she picks up the snowglobe and lobs it at the Looking Glass, causing a dent with cracks radiating out from it.

  A wind blows toward the mirror, and the fairy tale beings whiz into the Looking Glass in a blurry line.

  The wind stops, everything calm now, and the fairy tale beings are gone.

  “Good riddance,” says the Queen of Hearts.

  Malice says, “That’s one problem solved. Now how do I get my servants back?”

  The Storyteller answers, “You must go to each of their areas and drive the fairy tale portion out of them. But, I urge patience. You won’t be able to do it all at once. For now, you should both go back to your homes. Malice, you’ll return to your castle. The brothers shall stay with me. Queen of Hearts, you shall be dropped off in your awaiting dungeon cell.”

  The Queen of Hearts whimpers.

  “So mote it be,” he says, raises his hand and yet another magical, swirling wind enters the room, lifts the Queen of Hearts, Cat, and Malice up and whisks them out of the room through the already-broken window into the sky.

  Everything goes black.

  Malice awakens in a grassy field.

  She opens her eyes to see the Cheshire Cat’s floating head.

  “Where are we?” she groans.

  “Just outside your castle.”

  “Very well. I’m hungry. We should have a meal prepared, though I’ll miss having my friends to sup with.” A tear rolls down her cheek.

  “I’ll miss them as well, My Queen. Is your heart working again?”

  “Yes, painfully so. Now all the regret and sorrow is hitting me.” She wipes the tear away.

  “Don’t fret. The Storyteller has obviously set things up so you can regain them all back.”

  “Yes, all for his amusement, I suppose. But I vow, I shall have all my friends by my side again! I shall meet whatever challenges the Storyteller has set up, and I’m sure it shall provide, in his estimation, an interesting story.” She rolls her eyes.

  She stands. “Now let’s get back to the castle.”

  PART THREE

  Malice Hates Fairy Tales #3

  Chapter 37

  The day passes with difficulty for Malice. She had grown used to the company of the Mad Hatter and the 17 year old boy named Humpty, as well as Tweedledum and Tweedledee. But alas, they are all dead, killed in the Storyteller’s sick game.

  But at least she has a chance to get them all back. The Storyteller said he would speak to her tomorrow about it, when the day is fresh.

  And so Malice does her best to sleep in the bedroom of her lonely castle. At first she tosses and turns, before feeling herself drifting into sleep.

  From somewhere in the darkness, Malice hears the voice of a young girl calling gently out to her, “Your Highness…”

  Malice grunts irritatedly in her sleep, and rolls to her opposite side.

  Again the girl’s voice, saying, “Your Highness…”

  Malice feels sudden alarm, and opens her eyes. Though her bedroom is dark, she can clearly see a girl standing at her bedside.

  Malice’s eyes don’t even need to adjust to the darkness and her heartbeat immediately quickens as she sees who the intruder is. The 11 year old girl stands before her with a sulky expression, her formerly-white nightgown is now purple with sequins adorning it.

  Malice jerks straight up in bed and shouts, “Sleeping Beauty! How’d you get in here? What are you still doing in Wonderland?”

  Malice boggles at the sight of the girl, who looks very different from the last time Malice saw her. The biggest difference is the fact Sleeping Beauty used to always be asleep—hence the name.

  Another puzzling factor is that the girl is a fairy tale being, and earlier in the day, all the fairy tale beings in Wonderland had been sent through the Looking Glass into the outside world.

  Sleeping Beauty rolls her eyes at Malice’s alarm. “First, I prefer to be called Sleepy B now. Second, I’m not actually here. I’m visiting you in your dreams. And yes I’m still in Wonderland. Daddy said I’m not allowed to go to the outside world, but phooey to him because I wanted to stay in Wonderland anyway, so I could get my prince. So…”—she makes a raspberry sound with her tongue—“to him.”

  Now it makes sense to Malice how she can see “Sleepy B” so well in the dark. And what a sight that is.

  The girl’s nightgown used to be white, now it’s purple, with the sleeves cut off, as well as much of the bottom cut off, making it very short below.

  This unsettlingly sexy look is accentuated by the fact the girl is wearing very high-heeled sparkly black stiletto-heeled shoes, which she is having obvious difficulty standing in. She probably needs more practice.

  She’s also wearing black lace fingerless gloves. And her formerly-brown hair has been bleached a very pale shade of blond with frosted tips and is teased way up high. And she wears heavily-lined eyeshadow. It’s a dramatically different look from the angelic sleeping girl of a couple of days ago.

  Malice says, “So I’m still asleep?”

  “Yes. But I chose to keep the bedroom just like your real one instead of going wild with, you know, stuff. Like I coulda made this a cornfield.” She indicates the bedroom with her hand.

  “Um, so you really look like that?” Now Malice is waving her hand up and down over the image of Sleepy B’s body.

  “Yes.” She pats the side of her poofy hair. “It’s my new look. I’m not some stupid, sweet little angel like Daddy wants me to be. No, this is the new me. I’m edgy, dangerous…dark, with a new name—that’s why people shall now call me Sleepy B. You know why?”

  “Because it’s short for Sleeping—”

  “Ugh! Don’t even say it! I hate that name. It’s because I’m no longer sleeping, so I’m sleepy. And B? Well B could stand for anything, couldn’t it? So maybe it stands for ‘bitch’. Badass bitch. That’s me.” She puts one hand upon her hip and strikes a sassy pose, staring her down with her heavily-lined.

/>   “Erm. So you’re not getting along with your papa?”

  “Absolutely not. I’m so mad at that liar! He promised me a prince! But I’ll show him! I’m gonna get my own! A bad boy one.” A dreamy expression comes over her face.

  “A bad boy?”

  “Yes, that’s part of why I wanted to talk to you.”

  “Huh?”

  Shyly, Sleepy B looks at the ground. “Since you’re the queen now, I want you to order the Jabberwock to be my personal guard.”

  “The Jabberwock? I don’t even know where he is or how well he’s doing. I mean, last I saw him, he didn’t even have a body.”

  Sleepy B raises her head and meets Malice’s eyes with a determined expression. “I know where he is, and he currently has a body he’s using.”

  “Well, okay. But why should I do that? And what does it have to do with a prince or a bad boy? You need his protection from them?”

  Sleepy B shakes her head. “I just remember him from the stories. He seems so strong and handsome and such a good warrior. But he also has a sensitive side, he’s deep, inside. I think he just doesn’t have anyone who can understand him. I want to get to know him.”

  In confusion, Malice says, “So you want him as your buddy to help you find bad boys…” Suddenly, it dawns on her. “Wait, you’re not saying…”

  A vulnerable expression forms on Sleepy B’s face and she blushes.

  Malice says, “You fancy the Jabberwock?!”

  Sleepy B starts giggling nervously. “No! I mean, I like him from the stories, but I don’t even know him personally!” She starts giggling and giggling, and turning more red beneath Malice’s gaze. “I mean, jeez! Stop looking at me like that! I mean, I think he’s an amazing monster, okay?”

  “Sleeping Beauty—”

  “I said don’t call me that!”

  “Sleepy B, he’s a jabberwock and you’re a girl.”

  “So?! I can admire other species! And plus, I just like him in a friend way, not in that boy and girl, kissing way.” She averts her eyes, and Malice thinks the girl might be lying.