Dorothy: The Darker Side of OZ v5

by Scott Stanford

  After Dorothy eats some fruit and the lion some meat, the group are ready to explore the new land as they look out of the passageway at the bright terrain ahead. Walking from between the mountains Dorothy looks to her left to see a countless number of dead wolves, their blood and insides spread along rocks as she turns away quickly. Feeling the sun on her face, already hotter than she expected the tin-man holds out a wolf fur, sewn delicately together and ready for her to wear. She looks confused at first and the tin-man groans, ‘I used some of Scarecrow’s wire. It will stop the sun burning your skin.’ Seeing sense in his words, though still begrudging her actions she takes the fur from his hand and pulls it over her body, feeling the blood press against her as she wonders if she’ll get used to the smell.

  Looking out to the journey ahead Dorothy walks to the edge of the mountain to see the others already staring, leering at the horror of the west. The yellow land is no longer barren, and instead a hell stands before them as thousands of living bodies mesh into the amber stone, immortal prisoners. Screaming their throats raw the suffering souls are part of the land and spread through the vast mountains, forever suffering and unable to die. Looking out at them, some with limbs flailing from the ground, and others nothing but half a face with stone between their teeth Dorothy feels her stomach turn. Past the mountains of bodies the tin-man points to a distant cliff, its large wall an agonised face and mouth a twisted cave as he says, ‘That’s where we have to go.’

  Walking across the rough mountains the scarecrow looks at the bodies imbedded into the land and sees a face staring at him. Sticking from the rocks with its mouth sealed shut the head moves its eyes vigorously and Scarecrow touches the stone skin curiously. Stepping over grasping hands and keeping away from the walls, the group make their way across the mountain silently as Dorothy looks over the edge to see only jagged rocks past a thin layer of mist. After trekking for a mile the land’s screams soon stab at Dorothy’s ears, and as she tries to ignore them, shuffle past the desperate hands and begging mouths she comes to a sharp edge of the mountain. Suddenly chunks of rock disintegrate in front of her eyes, crumble as imbedded souls scream, plunging to the mist. Stumbling backwards and holding onto the tin-man she watches the sufferers descend, hearing, ‘We have to climb across,’ as her fear rises.

  One by one they clamber across the face of the mountain, and trailing behind the tin-man moves slowly to feel solid stone crush between his fingers. He looks down at the mist then watches Dorothy hold tightly to the rocks as she climbs, grateful to reach the other side. Hot and flustered with the wolf skin around her she’s sure she would have been burnt without it and ignores the smell, hearing Tin-man’s, ‘We’re almost there,’ as he climbs beside her.

  Soon the friends stare up at the hideous face carved into the cliff, and walking toward it they enter through its mouth, touching at the yellow stoned lips as darkness creeps over them. They feel relieved to be out of the sun, but looking through the dark claustrophobic tunnel Dorothy stares into the distance, past tarred bodies spread along the walls to the other side of the mountain. Seeing nothing outside the tunnel but a clear white mist she watches it entwine with vapour, spiralling through the air as it blankets everything beyond. Walking through the passageway Scarecrow looks at the black walls to see odd lumps, touching at one of them to watch the skin on his finger melt away. Unexpectedly the walls scream and the dormant bodies open their eyes as hot tar pours from inside the tunnel, dripping over their raw bodies. Stretching out their arms and trying to grab at the strange company, Scarecrow feels a hand clench his coat as the material melts. The lion watches as a hot tarred hand reaches at his fur and he screams, ‘Run!’ The souls’ agony echoes off the walls, the tar coating their suffering flesh as they scream for help. Quickly Dorothy and her friends charge through the tunnel, as tortured burnt hands grope from the darkness and they finally stand at the other side of the mountain, seeing nothing but a bone white mist.

  Feeling at the edges of the passageway behind them Dorothy glances back through the dark tunnel to see bright yellow in the distance, but looks at the path ahead to see nothing. Almost unable to see her stretched out hand she looks down to the boots on her feet as she realises they’re standing on a crumbling ledge, and beyond it lies a river of mist, pure emptiness. Watching as the yellow mountain glimmers faintly past the white in front of his eyes, the tin-man knows the thin ledge won’t be able to support all of their weight much longer. He looks out to the thick curtain of mist in hope of finding a way up the mountain, but the keen eyed scarecrow points a hand to the river, seeing a faint shape in the distance as it floats towards them.

  Whinging, ‘Wh…what’s that?’ the lion’s body trembles as he struggles not to move, pressing himself against a wall. Watching the shape gets closer the tin-man says, ‘It’s our way across,’ as a small boat drifts gently towards them. Curiously voicing, ‘That’s very odd!’ Scarecrow looks closer at the peculiar vessel to see it’s made of nothing but limbs, hundreds of pale arms holding tightly at each other as they overlap and entwine.

  Drifting next to them the boat knocks against the crumbling ledge as the lion uses all of his strength not to cower into the tunnel, and Dorothy looks in amazement. Grabbing at a fleshy grey arm the tin-man holds the boat steady, squeezing it tightly to test if they would let go of each other if forced. Bruising the limb and lightly cutting its flesh he watches it drip a black substance, but still holds tightly to the other arm.

  Shouting, ‘Get in!’ the tin-man knows the ledge they’re on won’t hold much longer, and Scarecrow shuffles his body into the boat without worry, touching at the limbs with a curious grin. Next Dorothy clambers into the vessel, feeling the cold flesh against her as she looks to the steering wheel; nothing more than a limbless chest, and the handles are small spines thrust through the main. With some persuasion the cowardly lion hesitantly gets onboard and the tin-man follows behind him as he moves Scarecrow away from the wheel, pointing into the mist with, ‘Look over there!’

  Taking the spines in his hands Tin-man looks to Dorothy with, ‘He’d kill us, steer us into a pretty rock,’ as the distracted Scarecrow looks into the emptiness. Smiling, Dorothy looks to the tin-man’s stern monstrous face, then to Scarecrow as he watches the mist glide gently, and the lion as he sits nervously in the middle of the boat.

  Pulling a large skeletal lever next to him and turning the steering wheel, Tin-man guides them away from the mountain as they drift into oblivion, whilst Dorothy looks to see nothing but white, not even a sign of the mountains or the sky.

  25

  Floating through the void Dorothy guides the tin-man, holding out the compass as they head west. With the lion still sitting at the centre of the boat he shakes, ‘Don’t want to drown! Don’t want to drown!’ whilst Scarecrow pulls himself from the edge of the boat, tapping at the animal’s head as he gleams, ‘Don’t be afraid, I’m sure we can’t drown. I think we’ll just fall, there’s no water!’ The lion huffs, ‘That’s not comforting… well what, what’s underneath us?’ rubbing a paw at his weeping eye as the scarecrow taps his burlap head, ‘That’s a very good question!’ Walking to the edge of the boat he sticks his hand into the mist underneath them to feel nothing at first, then as his inquisitive smile widens he holds onto the edge and leans his head overboard. Watching the scarecrow’s skinny legs lift into the air the lion pounces at him, latching a claw into his skin and throwing him back into the boat. The lion roars, ‘What were you doing?’ and the scarecrow innocently lifts his arms in the air, shaking his head as he grins, ‘I wanted to see what was underneath us!’

  With a subtle growl the lion holds his body strongly, walking atop the severed arms as he asks, ‘Well…did you see anything?’ The scarecrow shakes his head, sitting on the base of the boat as he looks to the pale limbs and waves, ‘Oh, nothing!’ The lion feels relieved and lets his tense muscles relax as he looks to Dorothy and the tin-man as they guide the boat. Then the scarecrow pokes at his burlap head again, his
mouth open wide as he says, ‘Well nothing pretty anyway!’

  Looking back at him the lion feels a slight panic whip along his face as he asks, ‘What, what do you mean nothing pretty?’ and the scarecrow replies shaking his head, ‘They look miserable, boring. Take a peek!’ As a mild curiosity slides under his skin the lion walks to the edge of the boat, slowly looking overboard to see nothing but pale ivory sheets of mist. Turning his head to the scarecrow he says, ‘There’s nothing there,’ hearing him reply, ‘Look harder, use your buttons.’

  Carefully he leans back over the edge, his cowardly eye peering beneath the white vapour carpet as he watches bodies reaching up from the nothingness; some animals and others people as their voices go unheard, the mist’s surface out of their reach. Turning his head to Dorothy the lion yelps, ‘There…there are bodies under us!’ but the young girl crushes his worry, shouting, ‘That’s the least of our problems!’ as the boat starts to rock.

  Staring in front of them Dorothy watches an elephant’s head surface from the mist, its dead skin grey and eyes white as its body stretches into the sky, standing to unveil long thick spider legs spreading from the head. Treading through the thick white, it wails at the top of its voice as another surfaces from the river of mist, walking in front of the boat as the vessel shakes. Shouting back to the lion and Scarecrow Dorothy calls, ‘Hold on!’ as they grab at the grey arms and watch the tall creatures walk past them. Keeping the boat steady the tin-man lets it hover, not wanting to drift away as suddenly one of the animal’s bends its long spider legs.

  Leaning as far down as it can the elephant’s head rests just in front of the boat as Dorothy stares into the white eyes, feeling its tusks touching the vessel. As a cold breath pushes against the group, the cowardly lion closes his eyes and the scarecrow smiles intrigued. Looking at its dead skin Dorothy’s terrified, close enough to touch its trunk as it waves above their heads. Too scared to move, even to breath she feels cold sweat dripping down her face and hears the other call in the distance, its cry echoing through the void. Quickly it rises, pulling away its head as the spider legs straighten, standing tall as the elephant’s head becomes invisible in the mist. Walking away they trudge through the river, stretching their legs with speed as the tin-man starts to steer the boat once more.

  Wiping a palm full of sweat from her head Dorothy looks back to the others with relief, shouting, ‘It’s okay, they’re gone!’ to the lion as she stares back out into the mist, amazed at what she’d just seen.

  Hours pass and they still head west, surrounded by nothing but layers of haze as they drift along the hopeless river. The lion sleeps heavily, stretching his paws and clawing in his sleep as the scarecrow watches him, and tickles his whiskers to watch the animal rub at its face. Still up front, the tin-man steers as Dorothy holds out the compass, yawning as she covers her mouth, rubbing at her eyes to keep them from closing. Catching her in the corner of his eye the tin-man offers, ‘Rest, I can hold the compass,’ as she hands it to him and rubs his metal arm with, ‘Thank you.’

  As the boat drifts calmly without the slightest disturbance Dorothy rests against the lion, still wearing the wolf fur to keep her warm as she holds Scarecrow’s hand and he flicks at the coarse hairs. Before falling asleep she pulls Toto from her bag and hands him to the scarecrow, watching a happy smile creep along his eerie face. ‘Toto!’ he says enthusiastically, and Dorothy whispers, ‘Be gentle,’ as she gives him her oldest friend, then falls asleep comfortably between Scarecrow and the lion.

  Thoughts drift through the young girl’s mind, dreams of Kansas, how aunt Em would tell her stories by the fireplace, and how uncle Henry would let her sleep in their bed when she had a nightmare. She smiles, dreaming that she wakes up in a lush green field, running through the farm as she sees her mom and dad on the porch. They look so happy, smiling as they hold hands, daddy shouting, ‘C’mon kiddo, food will go cold.’

  She looks at him with glee in her beautiful blue eyes, younger now, ten years old as she raises her arms and pretends she’s an aeroplane. Zooming along the farm she runs to the porch, smiling just like she remembers, jumping over the puddles and charging toward her parents as her arms wrap around them. Dad winces like always, holding her close as he says, ‘We got a little titan here, c’mon kiddo lets have food, then we gotta go home.’

  Dorothy holds them tighter, clenching her teeth as she begs, ‘Don’t want to go home, not in the car,’ and hears her mother’s voice, feeling the touch of her hand against a cheek as she says, ‘Oh sweetie, don’t be scared, we’ll be home in no time.’ The little girl closes her eyes and feels a tear drip down her cheek as she squeezes her daddy tighter, opening them to look up to a strange face as her world changes.

  Through the darkness a red light flashes, sirens echo in the distance and she sobs to the stranger, her body bruised as she whimpers, ‘Where’s daddy, m…mommy?’ He looks down at her, his grim face dripping with rain as a cold voice matures the little girl, ‘I’m sorry kid, they’re…’

  Forcing herself from the dream Dorothy gasps for air, sobbing as tears stain her pink cheeks and Scarecrow asks, ‘Are you alright?’ She shakes her head, trying to stop the pain, sobbing, ‘No…bad dream,’ as she wraps her arms around him and Toto. Thankful for the comfort she’s glad she’s not in her bed at the orphanage anymore, or the fake parents’, that’s where the dream always hurt more, almost every night.

  Soon Dorothy stands up front with the tin-man again, watching as the white mist starts to darken. They drift for a while longer, the lion still sleeping and Scarecrow looking down at the tortured souls overboard as Dorothy stares in the distance, waiting anxiously until they finally see land. Smiling she shouts, ‘Look!’ as the tin-man groans, ‘I know,’ and Scarecrow claps his hands, ‘More sights.’ Getting closer they look to the shore, seeing the aureolin yellow landscape shimmer, glow in the darkness as the tin-man looks to the black mist in-front and roars, ‘Hold on!’ Dorothy asks, ‘What is it?’ and Scarecrow wakes the lion quickly. Looking to the dead river the tin-man points to several white lumps floating just ahead of them, unable to see what the shapes are until they get close enough. Squinting her eyes Dorothy looks at the heads of what seem like crocodiles, mouthing, ‘Oh God,’ as they get closer, several of them circling the boat. The lion quickly grabs at the curious scarecrow, keeping him in the centre of the vessel as they watch the scaled white heads float atop the mist, their tentacles reaching into the air. Staring at the creatures Dorothy cringes, ‘That’s not good!’ as without warning their limbs grab at the boat and the young girl screams to the lion, ‘Roar!’

  He looks back at her confused, too scared to move, and she knows he won’t scare them away. Quickly Dorothy grabs at Scarecrow’s pitchfork, jabbing the lion in his side as he lets off a tremendous sound and the creatures quickly move from the boat, their tentacles reseeding rapidly. Watching the three of them float away Dorothy drops the pitchfork and touches the lion, looking at the small wounds as little drips of blood pour from his side.

  Placing her hands on his snout she feels herself on the verge of tears, rubbing at his soft fur as she begs, ‘Please forgive me, I’m so sorry, I didn’t know what else to do.’ Pulling his head away from her hands he nurses his wounds, licking at the small cuts as he moans, ‘I understand why you did it!’ giving her a cold shoulder and refusing to forgive the attack.

  As the boat reaches shore Scarecrow jumps to the yellow stones first, looking at them as he points a finger in the air, ‘Different shades, how elaborate!’ Next Dorothy steps onto the land, watching the lion leave the boat with a huff as he sees her smiling but turns his head away. Jumping down to yellow stones the tin-man looks back at the dark mist, and the group watch the boat pull itself back out to the dead river, drifting into the distance. Walking along the yellow shore Dorothy glances at the sad lion and looks out to the dim path ahead of them, trying to make out the hills in the distance as they stand upon barren land once more. They trek for as long as they ca
n, getting closer to the mountains as Tin-man walks ahead, searching for shelter as he finds a small cave and groans, ‘Rest there tonight, it’s too dangerous to go any further in the dark, we’re getting too close to the winkies territory. The worst is yet to come.’

  Finally settling into the cave Dorothy feels a chill up her body, despite the fur keeping her torso warm. Sitting next to the lion he watches her shiver, huddling closer as his mane tickles her face and she looks at him sorrowfully. ‘I’m sorry,’ she whispers, and as a faint silence lingers he huffs, ‘I know, they used to do that to me in the carnival.’ She looks into his eye, sadly as she mouths, ‘I’ll never do it again,’ and the lion lifts a paw over her shoulder, pulling her closer to him as he smiles with a sigh. Holding her, he thinks of his old friend, remembering how they used to lay together through cold nights at the carnival. Sad that he’s gone the lion feels tears drip through his fur, knowing he’ll only ever see him again in his dreams as he sobs to himself, so happy to have Dorothy beside him.

  As Dorothy and the lion talk, the tin-man sits next to Scarecrow, listening as he’s asked, ‘Do you ever feel like you’re just waiting around?’ The tin-man turns his head, looking to the scarecrow as he answers, ‘I don’t feel much,’ and the silly straw man looks at him in surprise, tapping him on the shoulder with, ‘I forgot that.’ Then smiling he glows, ‘I’m going outside, look for pretty things,’ as he leaves the cave hurriedly. With a big stretch he feels his bones click and notices chunks of hay sticking out from his skin as he moans, ‘Oh dear, that’s not good.’ Poking them back inside he walks along the barren land, whistling to himself as he swings his pitchfork. ‘Where are you?’ he frowns, ‘No pretty things, nothing shiny. I don’t think I like the west,’ he huffs, as he stands atop a small mound of rocks. Looking into the distance, he watches tiny lemon yellow eyes in the sky, dozens of them as he smiles at first, asking, ‘What are you little things?’ Waving a hand to them his expression soon changes as he hears their flutter, watching dark wings flap in the sky as the crows squawk. Terrified he screams, ‘Not my buttons!’ as they swoop down at him, pulling at his straw and pecking at his skin. With his shrill echoing through the night he swings his arms at the birds, cutting at them with his barbwire stitching. With a look of fear sewn along his burlap face he stabs at the crows with his pitchfork, killing them as they squawk in agony, and he screams, ‘Not my buttons, can’t have them, mine, Mine!’