Dorothy: The Darker Side of OZ v5

by Scott Stanford

  As morning comes, even before the sun rises the group set out on their journey as several servants guide them through the city to the west exit. The tin-man’s joints ache from lying still for so long, and although his wounds are healed, they’re still sore. Clenching his axe tightly he feels comfort with it in his hand and watches the others in front of him. With a slight whimper the lion walks next to Dorothy, his new scar camouflaged with the rest as he fears the trek ahead. With a large gate at the front of the castle opening they look in the distance to see a wagon rolling onto the cobbled streets, as Mr Jack sits upfront with a sinister smile. The lion quivers, ‘The…the carnival,’ and they move quickly as Dorothy shouts to the servants, ‘We have to hurry!’

  As fast as they can, they make their way to the edge of the great wall, far away from the large door that brought them into the city as the servants tap at the bricks. Watching the wall with amazement Dorothy sees three of the large stones dislodge themselves and swing open like a gate as the scarecrow gleams, ‘What an oddity!’ Whilst the other servants wait by the wall one walks inside, leading the strange friends as they enter another small room without hesitation. Looking at the dull green viridian walls the group walk inside and the tin-man’s the last in as he watches the stones close behind him, feeling the room slightly shake. The masked servant walks to another jade phoropter, touching at the machine as he timidly asks, ‘Please look into the device, if you do not scan your eyes you will not be able to see properly outside of the city.’ As they each take their turn Dorothy realises the room isn’t as green as before, neither is Scarecrow’s pitchfork and she squints for a while. Still, she watches the servant as he pulls aside his gown to unveil a thick metal strap, grabbing at a thick key chained to it. The strange company watch him undo all five locks of a gate covered with stone as he struggles to push it outward.

  With the glare of white light outside, Dorothy smells the fresh air and turns to the servant, asking, ‘What road do we follow to head west?’ Shaking his head at first and pulling a small compass from his pocket he hands it to Dorothy, answering nervously, ‘No road will take you there, you must head west where the sun sets.’ With a rickety breath the girl nods her head, asking, ‘Have you ever been west?’ and the masked man trembles, ‘Never, never left city, it’s forbidden.’ Surprised, Dorothy gasps, ‘What?’ but the man pushes them out of the room quickly, repeating, ‘Please, please you’ll get me into trouble!’ scared to step outside himself, as he pulls the exit shut behind them.

  Forced outside and standing by the wall Dorothy still tries to shout at the small masked man, but she watches the door close, shutting to look like just another set of green bricks in the great wall. Taking a deep breath the lion’s relieved to be outside of the city, so scared that Mr Jack may find him. Staring with amazement the scarecrow touches at the wall, tapping the stone with, ‘Very impressive,’ unsure of what happened to the door as the others walk away from the Emerald city.

  Looking out in the distance, they stare to the west and Dorothy drops her compass to the floor as a look of defeat scars along her face. Miles of carpeted green fields spread in front of them, dotted with buttercups, daisies and several small huts, though beyond that is nothing but shades of yellow spanning as far as they can see. A barren icterine land of perishing stone and sand’s scattered with skeletons, as amber hills and cliffs form behind them, and jagged golden mountains shaped like arms tower the land. With no sign of the witch’s domain, nor civilization or shelter Dorothy crumbles inside, this is what she’d imagined the land to be like, and now she has to endure it.

  Trying not to shake, her throat already dry at the thought of hiking across the terrain Dorothy knows she has to push through, she’s undergone too much to give up now. So with a quick breath, trying to focus on the journey ahead she opens the compass to see a small piece of paper inside. Unfolding it curiously she reads, ‘Please help us!’ as the dark chill of the wizard’s voice pricks at her skin, and she thinks of his cruelty and the people trapped inside his city. Hideous thoughts of his domain run through her head, the masked servants, the silent, the blind, and the scarred children. Wondering the depths of his cruelty she feels sick, thinking of the tortures he’s capable of as the task over her head seems far more dangerous than ever before. What will the wizard do to Dorothy if she fails him?

  23

  Walking along deep green fields the strange friends ignore the fresh grass and blooming flowers, focusing on the yellow valley ahead as Scarecrow’s buttons stretch widely with intrigue and Dorothy prepares herself.

  Soon they find themselves at the border of the west, stepping into the icterine yellow country as miles of sand and crumbled rock surround them. The terrain is barren and their path paved only with skeletons as the sun gleams against crisp white bones. Scattered like breadcrumbs for birds the immaculate dead spread through the west, without a single broken piece or the slightest of marks to their skeletons. Dorothy looks at the husks of gigantic animals and the bones of dainty creatures, wondering how they all died, but the group soon lose count of the dead, and even the cowardly lion grows used to such sights. Yet Scarecrow’s amazed with every new species he finds, crushing winged skeletons with his pitchfork as he mumbles, ‘No wings, no wings.’

  Having walked all morning the chrome yellow sun abruptly reaches its peak, burning at them as Dorothy feels it stinging her neck, and even the tin-man’s thin metal chest heats vigorously. With her mouth dry and limbs aching the young girl struggles on for another mile, but eventually gives in to herself, panting, ‘I need to stop,’ as they find the skeleton of a large elephant and rest. Looking up at the burning sun the tin-man walks to the dead animal’s skull, hacking away its head from the spine and snapping several of its ribs as the scarecrow helps him build a small shelter. Shaded under the clear white bones Dorothy gulps at a canteen of water, and then the lion gently laps some from her cupped hands. Knowing how timid he is Dorothy underestimates his strength, ignorantly letting him lick at her palms without thinking that his tongue is so strong it can scrape meat from bones. Still he laps at the water as gently as he can, panting as the heavy weight of his body is almost hypnotizing.

  Waiting a little while for the sun to die down Dorothy opens the small bag around her shoulder and pulls out the little black dog as Scarecrow gleams, ‘Toto!’ and the lion eyes up the small creature. Sniffing at it at first he huffs, blowing the fur along the little dog’s back as the scarecrow gently rubs at its head. Turning to the lion Scarecrow asks, ‘Do you like him?’ and the lion tilts his head unsure, squinting his good eye as the straw man scuffles the lion’s mane, smiling, ‘You should, you’re both fluffy.’ An exhausted Dorothy giggles at the two of them and the lion groans, ‘Don’t you think I look fierce?’ to which the scarecrow says, ‘Yes.’ So the lion starts to feel proud, raising his head smugly before the straw man continues, ‘As fierce as Toto!’ The lion huffs again, ‘I’m a lion I’m supposed to be fierce,’ and the scarecrow nods repeatedly, ‘I know, and I’m a scarecrow…but I don’t scare crows. It’s a mad world.’

  After resting the group continue through the land, trekking as the scarecrow dances along the way. He admires how his tangine necklace shines in the light, and Dorothy wonders if the chrome yellow sun burns so brightly sometimes that it can melt flesh from bone. Asking the tin-man, ‘Do you know anything of this land?’ his warm metal jaw crunches, ‘Only one thing, but you’ll have to see it yourself!’ So the curious young girl imagines what waits ahead, and eventually they stand at the bottom of the amber hills. Looking to the obstacle in front of them Scarecrow’s the first to attempt climbing it, though Dorothy quickly pulls him back, kicking at a stone to watch it quickly sink into a pool of sand. Telling him, ‘Do what I do!’ she takes a few steps back and runs, jumping onto the rocks as she digs her boots into the mound, trying not to drop her wicker basket as she starts to climb the steep hill. Quickly the others join her, and finally reaching the top of the first hill they look back at the
Emerald city. Amazed at how far they have travelled in such little time Dorothy looks out to the miles of dead land and the Emerald city behind it, still so grand on the outside. She can see the dull Munchkin country and the dark forest in the background, turning her head to stare across the yellow land, seeing shades of red to the south and deep purples to the north. Smiling in amazement at the countries, taking in how beautiful it all is her thoughts are disturbed as a voice echoes, ‘Eat please!’ Looking to the rock formations in front of them the tin-man waits to see a figure as he tightly grips his axe, and the lion cowers backwards.

  Staring at the thick jagged walls of stone Dorothy watches a man peer from a small cave; his pale grey complexion standing out amongst the amber as he limps toward them. With his festered skin covered in small rotten mushrooms, the scarecrow scratches his head at such a sight, as the fungus spreads over every inch of the man’s body and he pulls one from his skin. Watching the stem break he holds a mushroom in his hands, another growing instantly in its place as he stretches his arm out to Dorothy. ‘Please eat, you must be hungry,’ he says as the girl looks at his tongue, layered with fungus as his pitiful eyes stare. Shaking her head she orders, ‘Get back into your cave,’ as she slowly reaches into her wicker basket for the butcher’s knife. ‘P…please just eat one,’ he begs, ‘If a passer-by eats just one I will be free.’ Clenching at the knife in the basket Dorothy is ready to attack but the tin-man charges in front of her, wielding his thick axe as he approaches the grey man. ‘You’re wasting our time, move or I will hack you in two,’ he shouts as the man cowers backwards, begging, ‘Please don’t, the witch cursed me, made this way. Can you help me? Just eat one, please?’ A dirty liquid drips from his eyes and he trembles by the tin-man’s blade, staring at Dorothy. Feeling heartless she orders, ‘Get in your cave!’ and the man crouches to his knees, crawling backwards as he sits in the small hole. Still holding the axe to him the tin-man watches his friends pass, climbing the next mound before he pulls the weapon away, roaring, ‘Follow us and you will suffer.’

  Atop the next hill Dorothy and her friends find another, this one even steeper, but they finally reach the top exhausted. Out of breath the young girl stands at the edge, looking out to the vast Oz and then down to see how far they had climbed. Feeling dizzy she quickly pulls away, hugging a large stone wall. Looking deep into the rock formations Dorothy stares up at the mountains above them, amazed that they stand almost as tall as the Emerald castle, looking like stone arms atop of the cliffs. Moving carefully along a precarious ledge they make their way to a rough path through the mountains as Scarecrow coos, ‘What a sight!’ Looking behind them at the landscape of Oz he walks toward the ledge, smiling widely at the approaching night as the tin-man places a strong metal hand on his chest with a stern, ‘Wrong way!’ Nodding his head the scarecrow turns around and joins the others as they walk between two golden mountains, seeming like ants in such a vast amount of rocks. The path is long and dark as gigantic rocks block out the chrome yellow sun, and Dorothy feels a sudden chill against her skin as a slight breeze drifts through the passageway. Walking through the damp opening until they can see the other side of the land only metres away Dorothy squints out to the darkening sky. Trying to decipher what’s ahead of them she can hear faint cries in the distance, deep unnatural sounds as the tin-man’s mechanical voice crunches, ‘We should stay here for the night!’

  Dorothy looks back to him, challenging, ‘We can still cover more ground,’ but he drops his axe to the floor, refusing to move as his curious words echo through the passageway, ‘You will not want to rest down there in the day or night, not until we’re past the river.’ Walking toward him she presses, ‘A river, what else is out there?’ but the enigmatic tin-man refuses to answer, not offering a single relief to her curiosity, instead he groans, ‘You don’t want to know before you sleep.’

  After a while, Dorothy rests on the ground as a draft whips between the mountains, and she lies with her head pressed against the lion’s chest as he drapes his paws over her. Feeling the warmth of his breath against her face and his thick coat against her skin she still shivers in her sleep. With nothing to do but watch them both Scarecrow and the tin-man stand idly by, as scratching his burlap head the scarecrow whispers, ‘If I had a brain do you think I’d feel sleepy?’ The tin-man looks at him with a blank glare, quietly moaning, ‘Maybe,’ as his jaw creaks open and Scarecrow frowns, ‘Too bad, it looks boring…’ Then bursting, ‘I like shiny things,’ he startles himself, amazed his screech didn’t wake Dorothy as he looks down at her with a thin finger against his mouth, and the tin-man replies solidly, ‘I know you do.’

  Listening to the western night the tin-man can hear faint cries still echo through the valley, but nothing nearby, not even a single groan or whimper from the smallest of creatures. Reaching for his axe the tin-man says, ‘Stay with them,’ to the scarecrow, as he watches him nod his head and walks out of the passageway, standing alone on new ground.

  Looking out he can see the agonies of what morning will bring and patrols the mountain, walking further from his friends as he struggles to hear a single sound except the faint breeze. Little does he know that in this country, despite how loud the cries of agony can be, one of its predators is always silent, the deadly wolves. At first only a few wait in the shadows, watching the tin-man as he walks along the rough ground. Yet as he moves, his jagged metal sends vibrations through the rocks and gradually over two dozen yellow eyes of the night stare at him. The wolves are miserable creatures, with their fur naturally tarred a thick black, and faces like dead dogs as their spiny teeth drip with saliva. On the prowl, their soulless eyes hunt hungrily, scouring the night for meat and ready to tear it from living flesh for the sustenance. They all watch the tin-man with their presence unknown, and they can tell the meat will be sparse, but that won’t stop them attacking.

  They linger patiently as the tin-man rests his axe on a shoulder, waiting for the slightest sound, but with the silence in his ears he slowly walks back, lowering his weapon to the floor. Now the wolves are ready to strike.

  Attacking in pairs, with dozens leaping from the darkness the tin-man hears their hungry growls, looking to see one in mid-air, ready to feast. Acting on reflex he swings his axe upward, decapitating the creature and quickly forcing his weapon back down, aiming for a sly wolf on the ground as he cuts it in half.

  As the next wave attacks, then another, he cuts at their bodies with the axe, feeling one on his back as he throws it from the mountain and kicks the next one, shattering its skull. The blood sprays against his tin body and a wolf gets close enough to bite at his hand, howling in agony as the metal spikes pierce its jaw and the tin-man throws it aside, breaking another’s legs. Swinging his axe in a fluid motion to cut two bellies open at once; the attack seems endless but he fights them like a gladiator, tearing their bodies apart without stopping.

  Watching his kin get slaughtered by the tin-man, at least two dozen dead the leader of the pack waits, watching his allies get thrown from the mountain, their bodies torn open as only a few still breathe.

  The remaining wolves attack, and the tin-man kills them easily as the leader arches his back, leaping through the air with his fierce mouth ready to bite. Moving with great speed its body’s close enough to strike and the tin-man quickly drops his axe, grabbing at the wolf’s throat with a single spiked gauntlet. Growling at first, snapping its teeth the tin-man watches him and walks to the edge of the mountain. Tightening his metal grip the wolf soon whimpers, his eyes filled with hatred as the tin-man dangles him in the air. Looking at the creature, with no hesitation of what to do the tin-man opens his bear-trap jaws and bites into the wolf’s side. The animal howls in agony and the metal gladiator throws it back onto the ground as blood drips from his jagged teeth. Whimpering, the wounded wolf looks at him, baring his teeth as the tin-man groans, ‘Follow us again and I will kill more of your kind!’ Bleeding severely but still wanting to attack, the wolf whimpers in agony, begrud
gingly turning its back and limping into the night.

  The tin-man waits for another attack, standing on the mountain as his metal body drips with blood. He lets an hour pass then grabs at several dead wolves, ones still intact as he pulls the tarred fur from their skin and scrapes away the gore as best he can.

  24

  In the morning Dorothy wakes, her skin as warm as can be as she opens her eyes to see the black fur draped over both her and the lion. Trembling at the sight of the blood stained sheet she looks up at the tin-man, bewildered as he grumbles, ‘You were cold, needed warmth.’ Unsure of what to say she pulls the blanket of fur from her body and hesitantly thanks the tin-man, trying to ignore the smell of dead meat and the fresh blood staining her dress.