Hearing the scarecrow’s voice Dorothy looks up at the tin-man, standing at the opening of the cave as she asks, ‘Can you hear that?’ He nods, ready to investigate as the lion cowers, mumbling, ‘Oh no, don’t like it here.’ Walking to her tin friend Dorothy places a hand on his arm, insisting, ‘Stay here, I’ll shout if I need you, look after him,’ as she looks back to the lion. Leaving the cave she walks quickly through the barren land, following the scarecrow’s voice, but it soon stops. Hearing nothing but the breeze, no squawking and no screams she edges her way through the darkness, calling out, ‘Scarecrow!’ She clenches a fist; walking further from the cave with a lump in her throat, as she calls again to hear a giggle in the distance. Silently she follows the eerie sound and her eyes open wider, her heart pounding as she looks to see Scarecrow cowering on the floor. Walking toward him, his evil giggle echoing through the dark she places a hand on his shoulder, looking at the dead crows spread along the floor as he turns to face her. With a fearing look in her eyes his curious smile stares back at Dorothy, watching her walk backwards as he crouches on the floor. Leaning over several dead birds he pulls his fingers from ones stomach, leaving the others open wide as their insides lie on the ground. Looking as the young girl backs away he stands, holding his pitchfork as he walks towards her saying:
‘What’s wrong Dorothy? They tried to take my buttons, pull me apart. I just wanted to see what their insides looked like!’
Cautious, holding her breath at first she grabs at his arm and leads him back to the cave as he pleads, ‘I don’t understand, what’s wrong?’ Thoughts buzz around Dorothy’s head, unsure how to act as she hesitantly mutters, ‘Nothing, nothing’s wrong!’ When they reach the cave, Dorothy quietly whispers to the tin-man, ‘Keep an eye on him, we can’t let him wander off.’ Then as she sits next to the lion he tells stories of the carnival, and the young girl pulls Scarecrow close to her, worried about him as she holds his hand, watching as he sits quietly, glaring innocently into the tangine necklace.
As morning creeps along the sky Dorothy feels a hand stroke her head, so she slowly opens her eyes to see the scarecrow smiling, holding fruit in his palms as he greets, ‘You look pretty this morning, want some food?’ Taking the apples she smiles back at him, dazed as he says, ‘You should come outside, it’s nice and bright, so much to see.’ Dorothy watches him run out of the cave as she rubs her eyes, holding the fruit in her hands as she sits worried, concerned about what she saw last night.
Feeling closer to the witch Dorothy lets the chrome yellow sun warm her hair for comfort, and the lion walks slowly as they make their way through winkie territory. With nothing but odd rocks and occasional mountains, the young girl feels relieved not to see bodies imbedded into the landscape, but as they reach the edge of the hill a horrific sound comes from the distance.
Slowly walking toward it Dorothy presses a finger to her lip and shows the scarecrow, whispering, ‘Shhh!’ as the young girl reminds him again what it means. Getting closer to a mound of rocks the group hide behind them, hearing a grim hiss through the land ahead as they look down the hill to see a number of winkies scouring the area. Watching the creatures turn over rocks and creep through the dunes they listen for the slightest of sounds as Dorothy stares at their decaying bodies; with rotten thin teeth and cracked white skin. They walk with their eyes sewn shut, rifling long gruesome hands through the rocks as their sharp bone fingernails cut into the stone.
Suddenly they all stand still. With small holes where their ears and nose should be, Dorothy wonders if they can smell her and her friends, or hear them breathing. Silently they watch, listen to the winkies communicate as without warning one dives into a cave, pulling out a lone wolf. Stabbing sharp thin nails into its side the animal howls, thrown to the ground as it looks at the winkies.
Surrounded by them the wolf bares its teeth as a warning, but several of the winkies leap for the creature, not even giving it a chance to run as they pull it open with their nails and teeth. Turning her head Dorothy hears the animal cry, unable to watch as the tin-man taps at her shoulder.
‘We have to get past them don’t we?’ he asks, and Dorothy looks at the compass, nodding her head with, ‘How?’ as he points down the hill to a cave. Looking closely at the small opening, Dorothy spots a beehive and the tin-man pulls a piece of fruit from her basket. Grating at their ears as quietly as he can the tin-man says, ‘We have to move when they’re distracted,’ and Dorothy and Scarecrow nod their heads as the lion looks at him worriedly.
Moving as quietly as he can the tin-man watches the winkies devour the wolf, raising his metal arm and looking down at the cave as he throws the fruit at the beehive, cracking a hole in their lair. Standing from their meal the deadly winkies listen to the sound of the broken beehive, hearing the bees come toward them as blood drips from their teeth. Quickly the swarm attack and the winkies slash at the tiny bees, trying to crush their bodies as Tin-man leads the group down the hill. Moving slowly, cautious of the winkies strong hearing they climb carefully, reaching the bottom with the deadly creatures no more than a metre away. As the bees’ sting at the hunter’s skin Dorothy and her friends move carefully, trying not to make a sound and stand on the loose debris, but unexpectedly the lion roars in pain. Looking at the cowardly animal the young girl sees a horde of bees surrounding him, getting the winkies attention as the tin-man shouts, ‘Run!’ Turning their heads to a different prey, smelling the new flesh and hearing their steps, the winkies let the bees sting, ignoring the pain as they charge at the fresh meat.
Running up the other side of the hill the tin-man knows he’s too slow, and watches Scarecrow run in front of him as they reach the top. Looking back at the deadly creatures the lion speeds, as his legs pound at the ground and he runs ahead of his friends to see a chasm in front of them.
Running too fast to slow down, unable to stop he leaps in the air as he jumps over the gap, several feet long as he looks down to see the white mist miles below them. Landing at the other side his body crashes to the ground and he bares his teeth, watching his friends run toward him as the tin-man straggles at the back.
Readying his sharp claws the lion hesitates but runs back, jumping over the chasm as he barely makes the gap. His body lands on the edge and he claws at the stone, pulling his heavy weight up as he runs past Dorothy and the scarecrow. Charging back at the tin-man he roars, ‘Grab on!’ as he feels a winkie’s nail cut at his fur, centimetres from the flesh as he runs forward again. Looking behind him as the creatures get closer, Scarecrow doesn’t say a word, and instead he turns to see the chasm and jumps as high as he can, dropping his pitchfork into the void. Clearing the gap he looks back to Dorothy, the horror on her face as she runs close to the edge and the lion speeds past her, unable to stop as he carries the tin-man through the air. Landing at the other side the animal smashes at a pile of rocks, cutting his skin on impact as the tin-man dents his frame.
Dorothy looks to her friends, throwing her wicker basket to the other side then turning her head quickly to see the hideous winkies getting closer. Gnarling their teeth the young girl holds her breath, pressing her boots against the edge of the ground and she jumps in the air. Flailing her limbs, looking at Scarecrow on the other side her eyes painfully widen as she feels a thick cut along her back. Her body jolting at the pain she reaches out a hand to the scarecrow and he tries to reach for it, unable to catch her in time as Dorothy’s body falls, missing the ledge as she descends to nothingness.
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Looking down into the deep white mist Scarecrow shouts, ‘Dorothy?’ wondering where she’s gone as the tin-man pulls him from the ledge, swinging his axe at the winkies who try to jump the chasm.
‘She’s gone!’ he growls, cutting a winkie in half to see more of them scurrying through the air. The metal giant tries his best to kill the creatures, slicing at odd limbs but they’re too quick, reaching the other side and dodging the tin-man’s blade. Turning his back ready to run he knows he can’t fight them, feel
ing one jump on top of him and another latch on quickly as the lion looks back with a roar. Trying to throw them to the ground Tin-man feels their sharp nails cut deeply into his side, piercing the metal as they scrape against his ribs. Weakening quickly, in one last effort of defence he grabs at one of the winkies, clenching onto its neck as he throws it into the chasm, but the other won’t let go.
Thrusting its thin nails into the tin-man, the winkie squeezes at his insides whilst Scarecrow stands watching, confused at what to do as the cowardly lion runs to his aid hesitantly. Leaping at the winkie the lion sinks his claws into its chest, pulling the creature to the floor as he pins it down. Lashing his nails in the air the monster tries to cut at the lion’s skin, not giving him a chance to attack, as suddenly its head rolls to the floor and the thick sound of metal smashes into the ground. Looking at the axe imbedded into the stone, the lion’s eyes pan along the handle. Watching the tin-man crouch on the floor as blood seeps through his metal armour, with his visible pieces of flesh torn apart.
Spitting out chunks of blood and oil the tin-man collapses to the floor as Scarecrow runs to his side, scratching at his burlap head as he says, ‘Didn’t know what to do,’ but the tin-man doesn’t hear him. At first the only thing pulsing through his head is the turning of cogs and the clicking of pins as his fake heart releases blood.
Leaning over the wounded Tin-man the lion looks at the holes in his sides, shivering, ‘You really have bad luck don’t you?’ as he grabs at Dorothy’s wicker basket and pulls out a towel. Trying to put pressure on the wounds he hears Scarecrow walking to the edge of the chasm, muttering, ‘Dorothy!’ Looking down at the nothingness below he waves a solemn hand, moving to the others as he frantically shouts, ‘Dorothy, we have to save Dorothy!’ Barely conscious and biting back at him blood pours from the tin-man’s body as he groans in agony, ‘Gone, she’s gone, if you want to find her jump down yourself.’
Nodding his head the sad scarecrow walks to the chasm, looking down again as he lifts a foot in the air to feel his weight falling forward. Unexpectedly the lion grabs at his body, throwing him back to the tin-man’s side as he growls with his skin still trembling from the attack, ‘What are you doing? We…we can’t go down there.’ Then the tin-man’s voice grates at them, his sharp teeth slick with blood as he slowly tries to stand, feeling his metal legs give way:
‘The best we can do is find the witch; she may be able to bring Dorothy back.’
Confused, the scarecrow scratches his head, asking, ‘But aren’t we supposed to kill the witch?’ and the tin-man leans against his axe, ‘We will, once she does what we want!’ Trying to stand, the tin-man supports himself with his weapon, hobbling ahead of the others as blood squeezes from his body with every step. Joining him the scarecrow’s thin legs move quickly as he watches the feeble Tin-man, remarking, ‘Good thing you’re sturdy,’ as the lion follows, groaning to the metal gladiator, ‘Get on, you’re not walking!’
Then the three of them start on their journey again, as the lion carries the tin-man on his back, and Scarecrow holds the young girl’s wicker basket, walking behind them as he keeps repeating, ‘Can’t forget Dorothy, think, can’t forget Dorothy!’
Deep inside the mist Dorothy falls, unable to see above or below her as she screams. Flailing her arms, trying to grab onto something she feels the pain of descent, gravity pushing against her body as her shoulders arch to feel the deep wound spread along her back. Sure she’ll die and just waiting for the inevitable she closes her eyes, thinking of home as she feels a sudden pinch at her skin.
With a faint whimper her stomach turns and her body jolts, no longer descending as she opens her eyes to see a winged monkey carrying her. Confused, wondering if she had died she looks to its pristine black fur and thick bat wings as a strong face stares down, holding her with his feet as he comforts, ‘Don’t worry girl, you’re safe.’
Lifting her in the air, pushing through the thick mist the monkey soars into the sky, above the chasm and high above land as Dorothy looks down to see her friends. Trying to call to them her voice’s muted and her breath thin as she gets higher in the sky, closer to the sun as the monkey hovers in the air.
Feeling the heat beat onto her skin she looks out at the west, unable to blink as the monkey glides through the barren land. Dorothy watches the miles of yellow beneath her as she spots dozens and dozens of winkies below, hungrily patrolling.
They fly for only minutes, but at such speed, they cover more land than the young girl believes possible. Then, amidst the barren yellow land is the largest canyon she’d ever seen, and inside a beautiful golden palace. Watching in awe they descend towards it, Dorothy closing her eyes in fear as she gets closer, feeling her stomach turn, as quickly the monkey uses all of his strength to slow his speed. Opening her eyes, no longer feeling her body push through the air she looks down at a grand balcony just below her feet, as the monkey lets her go. Landing with a thud she looks up to the winged creature, watching him fly away into the sun as he waves briefly.
Dorothy feels a chill along her skin, the dripping gorge in her back the least of her worries as her scared mind numbs the pain. She’d spent so long trekking through the horrors of the west that she didn’t want to think of the witch that would be at the end of the journey. Now Dorothy stands in her palace, the one responsible for the millions of tortured souls spread along west, and she has to cut out her heart. With no other choice she thinks of the evil witch, and what the wizard will do if he doesn’t have Outika’s heart. There’s no other way for Dorothy to get home and she’s scared, wondering how an ordinary young girl can kill a witch so powerful.
With a lump in her throat she walks toward the open door, stepping inside the grand room as lavish yellow spreads along the walls; a crystal chandelier hangs from the ceiling, and the soft sound of a violin echoes through the palace. Dorothy’s come this far and she knows she can’t turn back, there’s nothing but miles of hell behind her and an evil wizard who wants the witch dead.
Taking a deep breath she walks through the room, listening to the beautiful music as she spots a desk and runs toward it, ignoring the crisp letters and other oddities as she reaches for a paper knife. Quickly clenching it in her hand she walks slowly through the palace, leaving the room as she looks out to a beautiful landing. Sulphur crystals imbed themselves in the walls and she stares up to see a glass dome in the centre of the ceiling. Following the soft music Dorothy slides her body along the walls, listening for footsteps as she edges her way into an open room. Carefully treading along the floor she silently peeks around the corner, looking into the grand amber yellow ballroom to see a woman sitting alone in the distance. With her back to the young girl she plays softly with a sorrowful glare in her eyes, letting the notes dance around the room like ghosts, tenderly caressing each other with the softest of touches as her gentle voice pirouettes to the young girl’s ears. ‘Please, come in,’ she says, and Dorothy feels her hairs stand on end, her clumsy grip on the sharp letter opener tighten as she steps into the room. ‘Such a beautiful young girl,’ the witch says lightly, continuing, ‘Please, come in,’ with her back facing Dorothy as she plays a long lost ballad.
Feeling the music touch at her skin the young girl moves closer, walking through the large ballroom as she ignores the pristine paintings on the wall and the deep set yellow stones as she looks to the witch.
Almost close enough to touch her Dorothy tightens her grip on the weapon in her hand, shaking as she tries to lift her arm, though stopped as the witch’s calm voice whispers, ‘Please don’t.’
Then lifting the bow from her violin the witch places them on the floor, standing as Dorothy drops the letter opener, but refuses to step back. She thinks of reaching for the blade, thrusting it into the witch’s heart, stabbing her before she turns, but Outika moves quickly, though as gentle as a butterfly as she faces Dorothy.
Almost shocked, expecting her to look as gruesome as the other witch the young girl stares at her soft face, look
ing no more than thirty years old as long black hair flows down her body, and she gleams sincerely with aureolin eyes and ruby red lips.
Walking toward her Dorothy looks at the black satin corset studded with yellow sapphires, as layers upon layers of thick taffeta flow from under it, laced with yellow diamonds as the skirt spreads to the floor and trails behind her. Stretching out an arm, black satin gloves stretch from the tips of her fingers up to her forearms as she tries to shake the young girl’s hand. Reluctantly Dorothy decides to step back, ignoring the glare from citrines around the witch’s neck, clenching her teeth with, ‘You’re the western witch aren’t you?’ She looks at the young girl with sadness in her eyes, a faint sigh as she nods her head, ‘Yes, but call me Outika, oh I almost forgot.’
Then she clicks her fingers as Dorothy feels a sharp pain in her back, touching at the gorge to feel it healing, even the mild swelling on her face gone. Shocked the young girl mumbles, ‘That, that’s impossible…’ and Outika smiles, ‘After all you’ve seen you still think things are impossible.’ Gliding gently through the ballroom the witch holds out a hand as the young girl takes it, wondering what would happen if she refused.
Escorting Dorothy through the palace, the witch looks around and smiles, almost reluctantly remarking, ‘Beautiful isn’t it?’ as her eyes trail away in thought. The young girl nods her head, wondering if the witch will change into a serpent, or if she’s leading her to a dungeon. Her heart races, the possibilities of torture are endless and she stays hand in hand with the witch, knowing she has to bide her time, catch her unexpectedly.
Dorothy: The Darker Side of OZ v5 Page 18
