I LOVE this poem! Really it's so awesome! And I wanted to write something about it (It really sparks my imagination) I started the story from the perspective of the guy who kills the Jabberwocky but then well... it sort of just morphed into the perspective of some random girl... eh, I wrote this quickly, so its not the best, but I don't completely hate it so I might as well upload it xD
Disclaimer: I do not own the poem Jabberwocky
Jaws that could swallow up a full grown man whole, razor sharp claws that sliced up the ground as it walked, blood red eyes that could freeze even the most fearsome creature, a screaming roar that echoed through the black nights chilling the blood of everything that heard it. It was the king of that forsaken place, it was the ruler, and all its subjects feared it.
The Jabberwock.
She pressed against the bark of the Tumtum tree, breathing heavily, sweat soaking her thin shirt making it stick to her skin. The makeshift armor she could scrounge together from the rubble fit awkwardly over her, made even more uncomfortable by the heat burning within her. She wished desperately for a drink, but had already drunk all the water from her water skin. Pressing her head against the tree hard she tried to level out her breathing, not wanting to alert anything of her presence.
The tulgey wood was not someplace you wanted to be found in unawares.
Gripping tighter the pommel of her sword she tried to think of the next logical step, something that did not come easily in a land with no logic.
Made even harder by the weariness that weighted her every step, all she wanted to do after the long day of trekking was lie down and sleep. Which was the last thing she should do if she wanted to survive.
Forcing herself forward she took a step, the a few more. The ground almost seemed to shift under her feet, the trees seeming to lean toward her, interested in the foolish human who dared enter their dark reaches. She began to wonder if the trees were moving, sometimes it did seem like they shifted every now and then and she was sure she had seen that knotted tree before. In this wood she did not hesitate to think this might be the case.
Suddenly she stopped, the scratches of a hidden animal just reaching her ears. But even though she should be careful of every sound that was not what made her stop. No, it was the fact that there was a patch of light, pure light, white and beautiful. All the time she had been the wood she had felt she had been walking in a murky darkness, just a thin filter of light making its way to the forest floor.
But no, this was real light.
She walked carefully forward, afraid the trees would snatch away the small patch. She held her hand under it, reveling in the small warmth it gave, shivering with joy. By the position it slanted through the leaves she could tell that it was brillig, she could just imagine her dear mother preparing dinner for her family in the small poor town. She ached to be back there, it had been nearly a day since she had started out on her quest but it seemed like forever.
They needed to be free though, her life was a small sacrifice to try and save their village.
Darkness fell. She snapped her head up fear welling up in her heart as the light was snatched away.
The light was no longer there. She was even surer that the trees could move. But she stood still, not wanting to move from the spot holding to the desperate hope that the light might be returned.
That was when she realized that the scratching noises had stopped. Her body went cold, not just from the lack of the sun but from an ominous presence at the fringe of her conscious. Slowly she moved her hand to her sword.
The wood seemed to die, everything falling silent, the trees stiffening their branches, no breath, no nothing.
Showing respect to their king.
There was a loud bellowing, whiffiling and burbling. She drew the sword, metal ringing on metal. The sound grew closer, a dark shape slithering through the trees like a snake, four legs expertly crawling along the ground maneuvering around the thin trees. Its long claws glistened in the little light there was, razor sharp as the legends said. Red eyes gleamed, eyes latched on her.
She could not do it. She realized in horror. Those red eyes filled with bloodlust. She could not kill the Jabberwock.
She should have known that, she should have realized. She doubted she could kill a Bandersnatch, a Jubjub, how could she kill a Jabberwock? She was a fool to think she could do anything to help those left.
Her grip loosened slightly on the sword, watching in frozen fear at the Jabberwock raced forward. At least no one would miss her. Her family were all dead, the small remnant left of her village after the Jabberwock ravaged it would think she was killed by the Jabberwock, they would never know she tried to chase after and kill it. That in her foolish mind she had thought only of vengeance.
She was a fool, a fool to think she could change anything.
What they needed was a hero. She was not a hero.
She smiled a greeting to the lunging Jabberwock. She might as well do something; she had come too far to just accept death with open arms.
She raised the sword and rushed forward to meet the glistening claws.
Her lunging form reflected in the giant red eyes, so small, so weak, and so pathetic.
Pain.
She wished she could have seen the sun one last time.
'Twas brillig, and the slithy toves
Did gyre and gimble in the wabe:
All mimsy were the borogoves,
And the mome raths outgrabe.
So yeah... that's it (yeah it's short and has a sad ending) but it was fun to write!