Soon they find themselves at the bottom of the graveyard hill, climbing their way to the top as Dorothy feels her hope swell, determined to get back home. They trek the mound and the lion tries to be confident, thinking that he’ll have his courage soon and be a king of the beasts, but the thought of what will come still sends shivers up his back.
Standing in front of the large castle Dorothy lifts her arm in the air, shouting to the guards, ‘I have the witch’s heart, let me see the wizard!’ as they push the doors open and stand aside, one voicing, ‘He’s expecting you!’ The young girl feels fear crawl under her skin again, wondering how the wizard could expect them. Still, she walks through the dark castle strong; almost convincing herself the witch is dead as she clenches the leather pouch in her hand.
Eventually finding themselves at the courtroom leading to the wizard’s quarters Dorothy and the tin-man ignore the finely dressed puppets, though the lion’s scared and the scarecrow points with a smile, forgetting he’d been here before. Looking to the small door in front of them Dorothy stops, her adrenaline burning as she wonders what form the wizard will take. She’d tried not to think about his voice biting at her like snakes, his dripping flesh, and what he could do to them if he finds out they’re lying. The thoughts burn, her fingers twitch and she storms towards the door before she loses her nerve, trying not to think of how much the wizard scared her before.
As they get closer the entrance opens for them, though no macabre voice greets as they make their way through the small door. Instead there’s silence as they walk into the grand room, and they look beyond the machinery and pieces of wood, staring at a horned figure who sits on his throne, hidden behind a thin dull panel.
Standing in front of her friends Dorothy can only imagine what horrors such an evil man could bring, and she lifts her arm in the air, trying not to tremble as she holds out the leather pouch. Suddenly a voice creeps around the group, tasting like brimstone in their mouths as it strikes upon their bodies like acid:
‘I am Oz, the great and wonderful, the deceiver and the damned. I have many names and faces, what do you want from me?’
Almost proud, believing her own lie again Dorothy screams, ‘The witch is dead!’ as her voice echoes through the room, but the wizard doesn’t reply. Instead a thick wheeze comes from behind the panel, and the strong horned shadow moves in his throne, letting his voice dissect their skin as he calmly scorns, ‘I know… now leave me!’
Even though she’d expected such a response Dorothy’s aware of how small she is in the large room, just a young girl at the foot of a powerful wizard, whimpering, ‘But…’ Feeling the boom of his voice cut away pounds of her flesh she stands still, trembling as the monster’s roar drowns the room:
‘Leave me or I will strip your bodies and make you my slaves, burn out your eyes and cut out your tongues!’
Petrified, feeling her friends behind her but too scared to move Dorothy could cry, crawl along broken glass to get home, but instead clenches her teeth, neither screaming nor cowering as she forces the single word out of her lips, ‘No!’
The wizard’s voice grinds through her insides, squeezing tightly and pulling them apart as he returns:
‘You dare challenge me! I will deny your requests and will torture your soft lives. Leave!’
Again the determined girl forces a strong, ‘No!’ from her lips, refusing to be denied as the tin-man moves from behind her, clenching his rusted axe as he throws it through the air, shattering the dull panel hiding the wizard. Looking to the throne the group stare at the ruler, his skinned body dripping with raw flesh, protected by an armour of small bones as his bloody face stares back at them. Marching to the wizard with speed the tin-man roars:
‘I will strip the flesh from your bones wizard, and feed them to the lion if you refuse our requests.’
The great wizard of Oz doesn’t move, instead his taloned hands dangle from the throne and he sits almost lifelessly. The horned monster watches the group approach him, the thick mounds of meat covering his face shaking as he shouts, ‘No closer!’
Walking toward him, Dorothy, the tin-man and Scarecrow stand in front of the wizard whilst the cowardly lion watches from the distance. Rapidly picking his axe up from the ground the tin-man presses it against the wizard’s throat, roaring, ‘You will not deny us!’ as Dorothy looks at his eyes, pressed deep within the devilish body. Stretching out her hands to touch the wizard’s dripping flesh she feels his face, sure that if he were powerful enough he could have destroyed them all by now. Yet as Dorothy takes a handful of gory flesh all the great Oz does is give a weak shrill, begging, ‘Please, no!’ as she rips away layers of dead meat, furious to see the face of a weak man beneath it all. Pulling the fangs from his mouth and grabbing at the horns upon his head she throws them to the floor, digging her nails deep into his cheeks as she accuses, ‘You are not a great wizard are you?’ Feeling the girls thick nails cut into him the blood drips down his face, and the tin-man pulls the axe away from his throat, letting him beg, ‘Please no, don’t hurt me I…I’m just a man.’ Tearing her nails through the wrinkled skin Dorothy feels his blood on her fingers and screams, ‘You never intended to send me home did you?’
The frail man looks to the young girl, his eyes like a dead animal’s as his head shakes slightly, ‘I am sorry.’ Filled with rage Dorothy leaps at him, sending the throne crashing to the ground as she scrams at his face, punching at the old man to feel his teeth shatter against her knuckles. Screaming at him, giving him no chance to defend himself she spits in his face, digging her nails into his skin and tearing through the flesh as she punches until her hands are soaked in blood, roaring:
‘I’ve suffered Oz for nothing…because of you. I…have killed, and…and I have survived, I…’
Her anger stalled, the hatred turned to fear she slams a fist into the wizards face and beats at his chest, brought to tears as the scarecrow lifts her from the man’s weak body.
Taking her in his arms she cries, holding onto Scarecrow tightly as she feels his jagged bones stick into her body. Pressing her face against him she sobs, and the lion looks at Dorothy, then to the bloody mess of a man on the floor as he steps backwards, cowering with a shameful look in his eye as he silently leaves the throne room.
Touching at the side of the weak man’s face with his axe, the cold steel presses against bloody flesh as the tin-man groans, ‘Why shouldn’t I kill you?’ Spitting out blood the fake wizard’s hands tremble, raising to the tin-man as he wheezes, ‘I can still help you.’ Wiping the tears from her eyes Dorothy looks at the concerned scarecrow and rubs a hand along his burlap sack, nodding gently to him as he lowers her to the ground. Shouting to the tin-man she orders, ‘Lift him up,’ and the metal monster clenches a gauntlet around the throne, pulling it back to its legs as the feeble man sits inside. Watching him spit shattered teeth to the floor Dorothy asks, ‘How, how can you help us?’ walking toward him as he covers his face in fear, mumbling frailly:
‘I’m not, not a great wizard but I am a great man. I can give you hearts, c…courage, brains. I just need time.’
Pointing a finger at him, clenching her teeth and ready to attack she asks, ‘Can you send me home?’ He trembles, wondering what the strange friends could do to him as he scrambles for the right words, muttering:
‘I…I have a balloon, can, can get back home in that but I need it, from…I’m from Omaha and only, only one person can fit inside.’
‘I’m taking the damn balloon, you can rot here! Do you understand?’ Dorothy forces as she points to the weak man, watching him shiver in fright as she continues, ‘You have three days to prepare everything, and that’s it. I don’t care if you’re in pain, I don’t care if you’re too weak. You’ll give us what we requested, and you won’t stop until you’re done. Work as if your life depends on it.’
Turning her back on the old man Dorothy starts to walk out of the throne room as the tin-man and Scarecrow follow. Leaving the defeated wizard to work, t
he young girl hears him call, ‘Wait!’ falling from his throne and crawling along the floor. On his hands and knees, the young girl watches him beg, his feeble face broken and pleading, his body encased in a wizard’s suit of flesh as he trembles:
‘P…please don’t tell anyone I’m human, not a great wizard. No one else knows and…and they’ll burn me. The witches, my people will torture me please…please.’
Dorothy looks at the pathetic man with disgust, grovelling at her feet as she condemns him:
‘Just in case you decide to cheat us and try to leave the city, you should know that Outika isn’t dead, and you will suffer unless we get what we want! I’ll make sure of that.’
Turning her back on the fraud Dorothy exits and her friends follow, leaving the stain of a man crying on the floor as she hears his sobs echo through the halls. The dark castle seems pathetic now, without power or threat she walks through the shadows, feeling stronger than ever before. With her face still like stone, her temper waiting to boil again she looks to the heartless tin-man, asking sternly, ‘Did I do well?’ and he nods his head, groaning, ‘If it’s in his power he won’t dare try to cheat us now.’ Tapping his fingers together the scarecrow sprites, ‘The lion’s gone!’ and Dorothy nods her head, concerned about the animal as she says, ‘I noticed, he must be hiding somewhere!’
As they reach the large castle doors the tin-man pushes them open and the three friends stand atop the graveyard hill, watching over the city as Scarecrow looks to a guard. Putting a hand on his face and swiping it up and down the burlap sack he voices, ‘It was so weird, his face was…’ Quickly pulling him by his arm Dorothy puts a finger to her lips and shakes her head, whispering, ‘Nope, can’t tell anyone!’ as she fears that if the city finds out they’ll storm the castle, ruining her chance of getting home. She knows she has to expose the wizard for the sake of the city’s people, but not yet, not while still there’s so much to lose.
Calling at one of the guards Dorothy asks, ‘Did you see the lion come past here?’ and he answers promptly, ‘Yes, he ran straight down.’ Nodding her head at him the young girl continues to make her way to the bottom of the hill, as her friends follow and Scarecrow sings. Skipping over the graves he screams, ‘I’m going to have a brain!’ and Dorothy asks the tin-man, ‘Are you excited that you’ll have a heart?’
With his tortured eyes fixated on her the metal monster grates, ‘Not yet, I don’t trust the wizard.’ She smirks with distain, remembering how she feared the wizard, and thinking of how frail he actually is as she utters, ‘Neither do I.’ Despite how weak he may seem Dorothy still doesn’t trust him, he may just be a man but he was cunning enough to convince a world he was a wizard. She wonders how he did it; looking out at the masked faces and the green glow of the city, deciding to ignore his lies for now, there’s too many to decipher.
Reaching the bottom of the hill Dorothy looks back up at it, her eyes creeping over the gravestones and staring at a castle fit for a king. Taking a breath she sighs, ‘Almost home,’ and thinks how best to expose the wretch, whether to let his people tear him apart, or give him to Outika so she can punish him fairly. Dorothy ponders on the thought, finding a masked servant girl and asking, ‘Have you seen the lion?’ as she answers with panic in her voice, whispering, ‘Yes, yes he ran to the west gate.’ Nodding then walking away the young girl hears the servant mutter, ‘Terrifying creature,’ under her breath, and Dorothy smiles, thinking of how fierce the lion may seem. Remembering him being too cowardly to leave the carnival, or how he’d cower in fear of the smallest things Dorothy worries, wondering where the poor animal’s hiding.
Time passes and the three friends walk along the cobbled streets, keeping out of the way of the people as they watch them at a distance, some fighting over food and others begging for coins as they bustle in the streets. Their voices mesh into one; a unified cry of poverty as they barter over rotten fruit and the drunken ones cry profanities. Walking to the west gate the tin-man remembers the way and leads the scarecrow and Dorothy as they trudge through the city. The young girl calls out, ‘Lion! Lion!’ to hear no answer, and they walk for ten minutes, getting closer to the gate as she looks to two children playing games on the floor. She smiles at them but a crowd catches her eye, screaming at the top of their voices as they run through the streets. Curious, Dorothy reaches for the tin-man’s arm, holding it as he turns to see the screaming civilians, grabbing at each other, begging ‘Help me!’
Unable to see past the crowds at first Dorothy and her friends look out to watch a thick black liquid oozing along the cobbles, reminding the young girl of what she saw on the road of yellow bricks, but stronger. It spreads across the ground quickly and the people flee, leaving several struggle as the liquid reaches from the stones. Leeching at the civilians and trickling up their bodies it smothers their skin and clothes, carpeting them as one man screams, ‘Please!’
Reaching out to the group, the black substance lashes from his legs like a lizard’s tongue, whipping at his arm as he tries to pull it away, tearing at layers of his skin. In shock Dorothy stands still, watching the thick black spread along his body and ooze toward his face as it drips into his mouth. Grabbing the young girl firmly the tin-man roars, ‘We have to go!’ pulling her through the streets as she watches the hordes of people, trying to run as the black expands under their feet. Like a shadow it consumes the emerald ground, surging along the stones and reducing the bodies to nothing as it flows over them like lava. Whimpering, ‘Li…lion, we have to find him,’ Dorothy tries to struggle against the tin-man, pull away from him but the scarecrow ushers her along, shouting, ‘Can’t go through the city.’
The screams of agony are deafening, the streets covered with bodies as they try to escape, finding themselves victim to the carnivorous black, leeching at their flesh and devouring them. Moving quickly the tin-man pushes through the crowds, leading the way for Dorothy and the scarecrow, as they look to the west wall to find it smothered with bodies. Civilians scram at the concrete, trying to find the secret door as they trample one another, standing on the bodies of their friends as they scream. Looking behind him the tin-man watches the streets, its ground slick with black as smothered bodies lie heaped in the ooze. Turning to Dorothy he grates, ‘It’s getting too close!’ as it flows towards them, drowning hundreds of people like a tsunami. Watching the lives simply disappear in the liquid, the young girl feels hopeless against it, hearing a sudden chatter as the witch’s winged monkeys descend to the city. Grabbing at Dorothy and her friends they don’t struggle, not even the scarecrow as he covers his eyes, mumbling, ‘I’m not flying, don’t see wings, no wings.’ Lifted from the ground Dorothy looks down to the people, trying to find the west gate hidden behind the wall as the liquid surges towards them. They scream, reach their arms up to the sky and Dorothy can’t turn away, she watches the black consume them, leech at their skin and crawl down their throats. Yet the further away Dorothy gets the more she sees; a whole city overwhelmed as the ooze carpets the streets, and hundreds, if not thousands scream, suffering and begging for their wizard to help them as they drown.
The young girl’s eyes drip with tears, watching them fall through the sky she thinks of the lion, closing her eyes tightly as the image of him being consumed in the city stabs at her mind. She screams to the monkeys, ‘The lion, have you seen him?’ watching the one who can speak carry the tin-man, ignoring her voice as they fly to the west.
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Dorothy sobs as they fly over the dead-lands, letting the monkey carry her weight as she tries to wipe away tears from her eyes.
Even though she’s thankful Outika’s creatures saved them she still can’t stop thinking about the lion, hoping he left the city. She can’t help but think of his soft mane, the heat of his breath against her face as her eyes close, but suddenly her concentration shatters. Looking down to the barren yellow land Dorothy ignores the burn of the chrome sun behind her and stares deep into a canyon, looking at Outika’s palace, no longer golde
n as it drips with thick black liquid.
Screaming, ‘What’s going on?’ to the talking monkey he ignores the young girl, and quickly they descend. Dorothy feels her stomach turn and Scarecrow keeps his eyes closed, mumbling to himself as the monkey’s fly lower and hover above a balcony. Dropping Dorothy further from the ground than before she crashes to her knees and cuts her leg. Gritting her teeth she watches the scarecrow land beside her, his thin body hitting the floor with a snap as he pokes at one of his ribs to feel it shattered. Looking back up at the monkeys Dorothy shouts to them and they drop the tin-man, though he lands on his feet and the weight of his body sends a crack along the floor.
Hearing the same solemn tune echo through the palace as before, Dorothy listens to the gentle music and looks inside the room. Followed by her friends they enter cautiously, looking at the fine shades of yellow and making their way to the landing, amazed that the black ooze hasn’t found its way inside. Following the music Dorothy calls, ‘Outika!’ walking to the grand amber ballroom as she looks inside. Again, the witch sits at the far end of the room with her back to Dorothy as she caresses the violin softly. The young girl looks to the witch curiously, and her eyes widen as she sees the lion beside her, relieved as he roars, ‘Dorothy!’
Looking at the happiness on her face and her arms stretched open the lion stands, ready to bound into her comforting embrace as he struggles to move. Looking at the thick collar around his neck, and a chain leading to Outika’s wrist Dorothy notices his blood on the floor and utters, ‘I don’t understand!’ Delicately the music fades and the witch removes her bow from the violin, standing elegantly as she turns to face her guests. Smiling beautifully Outika walks toward them, leading the wounded lion beside her as he looks out and gives a sad glare. With the distance between them still vast the witch’s delicate voice glides through the air softly, gently touching Dorothy’s ears as the betrayal comes from tender red lips, ‘I used you child!’ Dorothy shakes her head, looking into the witch’s deep eyes as she moans, ‘No…no, I trusted you,’ but a sinister smile spreads along Outika’s face, one the young girl had never expected to see as the words cut her to the bone:
Dorothy: The Darker Side of OZ v5 Page 21
