For as long as I can remember, I have loved the story of Alice and her adventures in Wonderland. It was the first book I can remember reading, the first Disney movie I've ever watched, and just one of the many sources of inspiration that I draw upon in my own written works. American McGee's retelling of the classic tale, or I suppose the sequel/continuation and mild alteration of it, is only one of many though it is one of the few that has reached past the boundaries of dreams and nightmares to create a twisted combination of them both. I admit that I never completed the first Alice, computer games just aren't my thing, but Madness Returns has reignited my love and admiration of the story and its horrifyingly captive sense of imagination.
Violent and bloody though the first game was, Madness Returns brought Wonderland back into the light and still kept it as something of a nightmare in the making. Few games have ever been more than just the story to me and fewer still possessed a world that I can enjoy traversing through and taking my time to admire rather than plunging on to further the story and reach the climatic ending. However, there was one thing in Madness Returns that I found… not really disappointing more like saddening…
It didn't seem fair to me and thus this story was born. So I hope that you enjoy:
"The Guilt of Innocence"
By Corvus no Genmu
Just how far did she have to go to reach the fore of this Train? She had gone through passenger car after passenger car and yet it seemed like the damnable thing's engine was only getting further away with every advancing step she took. The doors opened to the next compartment and she almost sagged with relief at the sight of the monstrously large grate that contained the fires of the Train's engine room. Strange though that she wasn't at all warm despite the heat being strong enough to make the air shimmer like water. In fact, she'd rather say she was quite cold…
You…
The flames of the grate burned brighter and smoke poured forth but did not leave beyond the boundaries of the massive iron bars. Erring on the side of caution and past experience, she readied the Hobby Horse, its golden eyes alight and neighing with excitement to squash another enemy to paste. The smoke condensed tightly within the massive boiler and from the blackened depths, twin points of hellish light shined in cold disdain and in that instant, she remembered whom those eyes belonged with cold, crystal clarity.
"No, that's impossible…"
Impossibility does not exist. Improbability reigns here, wretched child!
Smoke exploded forth between the bars, taking shape of a lengthy arm tipped with a massive hand of grasping claws that vanished into ether before full form could take hold and the smoke became what it was to do. Vanishing into the air served best as a surprise to the witness and the executioner who attempted the motions thrice more before admitting his defeat with a roar of fires that sent the train rocketing forward for as long as the inferno lasted, which itself was as long as an adult's childish tantrum.
Her grip on her equine weapon loosened just enough for her to rest its horned brow on the floor but not to dismiss it out of hand. "Well…" What more could she say to what she had witnessed, what question begged be asked to that which she'd rather see dead and forgotten?
Kill me? Possibly for a time… Forget me? Never!
The eyes were narrowed in thin slits, glaringly angry and shining with wicked disdain. Ashen hands gripped the iron bars as a head dared to form within the obsidian haze, lost somewhere in the blackness.
"I see no loss in forgetting you and what you've done to me and to Wonderland." She answered in kind, her eyes cold as jade and voice biting as frost wind.
Foolish girl. You who carry my old foe and think to be rid of me? We are brothers, that blade and I. Where there is one there is always the other.
Unconsciously dismissing the Hobby Horse for the Blade, she raised it up before her and saw for herself that blood still shined fresh on its otherwise pristine surface though she had not yet used it on anything that bled anything but oil and dust. She thought to toss it aside but this, out of all weapons past and present, had served her well on both journeys through Wonderland and she'd be damned if she tossed it aside so easily on words spoken from a serpent's tongue.
"Yet here in my hand it is whole and complete whereas you are nothing more than smoke and ash toiling away behind an iron grate." She responded, thoughtfully touching the blade's tip with a pale finger, mindful of its sharpness.
Better here, near forgotten and alive than rotting in memory. Here, I serve a purpose and here I am remembered if only by a margin. Here, I don't have to suffer for the crimes you committed.
She stamped her foot in rage of the words, wishing for all the world that she was giant-size so that she may ripped the engine free and toss it away into the forgotten abyss of herself! "I have my recollections of that night now! I know that I'm innocent and I know who is guilty of the crimes against my sister, my parents, my Wonderland, and me! I stand against him here and there together with a conviction that frightens even the Queen to subjugation if just enough to direct my vengeance where it ought and to not stand between him and me as you do now!"
She stood there, visibly panting for breath from her tirade, glaring hatefully into the eyes that stood alone in a haze of black behind iron bars. Once more, an arm of ash and smoke started forth through the bars of the grate but whereas before it was an angry, slashing rush this was calm, almost hesitant in its movements.
The guilt you feel is still that of a survivor but it is not that guilt that drives you now. Yours is the guilt of idleness, of false witness, for you may have forgotten the crime done to you and yours, you helped the perpetrator anew regardless if you what you saw and what you believed were one and the same.
There was a silence between so thick as to be like fresh mud, deep and heavy from a torrential downpour; she could almost hear it in fact… Rather clearly as though—She whirled and saw the walls dripping in blackness and disfigured remains of dolls and misbegotten gears and other mechanical parts. The Ruins, small and large, were amassing in a horde far larger than she had ever seen or dealt with prior and how could do they not when the source lay waiting just above and behind the massive Train's coal engine?
Do you really have time to waste here, dealing with these miserable insects? The fire crackled disdainfully, smoke gripping at iron bars. You will not survive fighting them and their progenitor.
"I've faced odds worse than these and survived." She kept her back to the grate, not seeing how the flame-like eyes narrowed at the off-handed reminder. "Unless you've something useful to say, do try and keep silent." Teapot Cannon or Pepper Grinder? She wondered. Which would do the greater damage? The Ruins were amassing themselves, infighting breaking out between those that would be Insidious or Menacing while Colossal dominated over them both with the Slithering rushing forward in the confusion. All in all, very bad odds indeed.
Release your guilt and be done with the past once and for all. It is over and done with, forgetting it will do nothing to change it but remembering it will guarantee that such tragedy will not occur a second time. You claim to be innocent of the crimes you've committed? Prove it here and now. Release your guilt, and set it free. Say my name and set me free, Alice!
She almost dropped the Vorpal Blade not so much at the words but at the name, the one and only time she had ever heard it spoken from the likes of that miserable, horrible, wretched thing that was everything she had ever come to hate about herself.
The Hatter was her ingenuity and wits sharpened and dulled, the Caterpillar was her wisdom and foresight to see that which was true and which was false, and the Queen was the madness of her terrible past though that madness be tamed if only by the thirst of vengeance. So many others of Wonderland represented aspects foreign and domestic unto herself and those she had glanced up and those she knew as intimately as she knew herself.
Allegiances had changed completely since her last trip down the rabbit hole. Those who were her most mortal of enemies, who had done everything their power allowed them to stop her from regaining her sanity, now stood allied with her not so much lending her their strength because of some change of heart, at least not entirely for those who possessed them anyway. Was it necessity that brought them together or perhaps it was survival…? No, it was neither and it was both. Where their evil was of their own making, willingly or otherwise, it was still their own choice.
This Infernal Train and its ceaseless destruction was strung together by the hands of an invader, a puppeteer who strung together a plan of damnation that created naught but nothingness in its wake. The Dollmaker and its Ruins were not true denizens of Wonderland. They may do it harm and infect it like a disease, but they could not kill it. The Infernal Train was a product of Wonderland's creation and such capable of destruction.
The Duchess had armed her with the same weapon that had once been used against her though she had not been kind to mince her words as always. The Hatter stood beside her against those who had been her friends and slain them dead though his want for another tea party between friends was great. The Queen of Hearts, though unwilling to even look upon her, opened her eyes to the truth of the fire and its cause. Enemies all three of them had once been and yet they had offered more than they who were and are still her allies. Would he do the same? Could she take that risk and gamble with the devil's hand holding the dice? The others had made their choices and this time, the choice was entirely her own.
The Ruins were gathered now, their in-fighting finally over and settled with the Colossal dominating the others and needlessly pushing them forward to drown her in a sea of oil. She spared one glance back into the iron grate filled once more with naught but smoke and a pair of flames shining like eyes in the darkness. She faced forward once more and took a deep breath of air and released it slowly, almost feeling a physical weight lifting clear from her shoulders as she spoke aloud a single name.
"Jabberwock."
The fires of the Train's engine died in an instant only to reignite in a massive explosion that blew the iron grate clear off its hinges and cleaving several Drifting Ruins in half before impaling itself on the far wall. Smoke gushed forward like water, enveloping the floor of the engine room before rising up to form a thick and heavy fog around Alice, who found that the smoke was nothing like what she expected for it did not warrant a cough or a blinking. The ground beneath her feet trembled to the sound of footsteps and suddenly the air was rent from the sound of the death cries of Ruins amidst the animalistic roaring of a monster free from its tether. Flashes of fire shone like lightning through the thick smoke, warping shape and sound alike until only silence reigned broken only by the one she had set free.
Where you must go, you go alone with no one to guide or help you. This is no longer a war for reclamation of sanity lost once again, now this is a war for vengeance—no, for justice. There will be no coming back from this road you travel and once you've reached your destination you might not find yourself glad of it. You must choose again what you want. Sanity… or madness? Vengeance… or justice?
She did not speak for such a time as it seemed almost like eternity would end before she answered but she did so with a whisper lost to those whose ears weren't tuned to her response. "In the end it is my choice and whatever the destination of it might be, I choose to keep going."
So be it. She felt claws lift her up and carry her forward until she felt a powerful wind blowing up from beneath her, strong enough to lift her up through the massive smokestack. Let your vengeance guide your hand but let your sense of justice decide upon the punishment. Now go and deal with that oil-faced bastard once and for all. The claws released her and she shot upwards at a startling speed but she did not scream, even as she emerged into the air high above the crouching form of the Dollmaker who stood with his back to her, waiting for her to appear in the control room above the Train's engine. A wicked smile grew on her face reminiscent to that of a feline of distinction as she readied the Hobby Horse once more with gravity aiding her on the descent to the Dollmaker's head.
The End
