The villains have made their mistakes. Each bad decision they've payed back in blood. But what about their kids? When the entire second generation is threatened by a force bigger than any of them could understand the evil heirs have to band together to not only preserve their lives but their parents as well. Working against the forces of good and time itself it's their turn to save the day.
Cramming myself into a bathroom the size of a closet I huffed indignantly, pushing my fingers through frizzy red hair. This was degrading. The dim light shadowed most of the room, leaving my pale face glowing and not much else.
The room was so small I was practically on top of the toilet trying to use the mirror. It was all peeling wood and chipped porcelain, not dirty but still somehow disgusting. Throwing an oversized pajama shirt over worn plaid shorts I checked to made sure my locket was still there. The red heart gleamed, ruby facets glimmering in the light. Stuffing it back into my shirt I opened the door, stepping into the hall.
And directly into someone.
I screamed but a hand clamped over my mouth, pushing me into the wall. Struggling hopelessly the attacker pressed my arms to my sides, waiting until I fell still. Looking up I was met with a boy not much older but a good half foot taller. He searched my face, high cheekbones and piercing blue eyes digging deeply into my own.
"Are you going to scream?" he asked slowly. His blonde hair was combed to the side, slightly disheveled from my squirming. I shook my head carefully, breathing hard. He removed his hand, dropping it to my other side. I eyed his for a second before letting loose the loudest possible scream I could manage. He slammed his hand back over my mouth and I winced, knees weakening beneath me. He glanced around wildly as hard footsteps rustled around upstairs. The Summers. They were completely oblivious ninety percent of the time but damnit if they weren't good people. Not to mention they took me in without a second thought. Big mistake.
I gasped as he heaved me off my feet, dragging me through the side door. The night air bit like knives and a light rain had broken, leaving everything muggy and wet.
A two door black mustang sat askew in our yard, sitting innocently as if it were nothing out of the ordinary. My eyes widened as he tossed me into the back seat, slamming the door.
"You can't be serious," I muttered, pushing myself out of the worn upholstery. Before I could touch the door he swerved around, peeling out of the driveway. The last thing I saw was Mr. and Mrs. Summers burst outside before asphalt and purple night sped by in all directions. He didn't look at me, staring evenly at the road.
"You don't look like you're from Wonderland," I stated evenly, crossing my arms.
"I'm not," he replied flatly, eyes unwavering.
I looked him up and down, moving from his worn jacket to his spiky blonde hair. Everything had happened so fast I hadn't had a moment to think. I knew the Summers were too good to last. They'd found my on the streets of Manchester, still in my tattered red dress. When they asked me where home was and I couldn't tell them they never thought, just acted. We'd been safe and happy in their dingy little house for almost two years, but there was no way it could last. Not with my history.
"What's your name?" I was met with silence, "If you've come for me you know who I am and I will not ask again. What. Is. Your. Name."
"With all due respect your highness," he glanced back lazily but his eyes were sharp, "I don't give a single fuck. And if you don't learn to control your god damn mouth I'll teach you."
My cheeks colored with raw anger. Sitting up straighter I met his eyes in the rear view mirror, "You peasant," I hissed, "I'll color this upholstery in your blood I swear-"
The car ground to a halt and he fully turned around. His eyes were dangerous but I refused to back down. Crossing my arms I looked him dead in the eye. His face morphed into a wide smile, taking me aback.
"You swear to what? To god princess? I hardly think that-"
"Don't be an idiot," I cut him off and he narrowed his eyes, "God is just a stupid explanation you came up with to justify Wonderland's influence. You get so confused and the slightest interference the only way your tiny brans can comprehend is by acknowledging how small you are," his face was turning beet red, "Godfrey Abram was the most brilliant inventor this side of Spades Quarter and-"
"You whore," I blinked at his rapid change in demeanor, "If you ever, ever speak his name in vain again I'll cut out your tongue," with that he whipped around, stomping so hard on the accelerator I fell over. Too shocked to return the favor I pulled my legs up under me, looking out the window. Solid trees were fading away to more industrial scenery, factories taking the place of forest. I glanced over at the clock. Five am.
"Where are we?" I muttered, pressing my nose to the glass. I'd never seen anything like it.
"New York," a surprisingly calm voice made me near jump out of my seat.
"New… York?"
"I trust you've heard of it."
The car pulled up beside a strikingly tall brick building, the first traces of daylight breaking over massive skyscrapers in blazes of pink and orange. He led me by the arm through double doors, pushing me up the stairs two at a time. I held my tongue this time, fearful of what would happen if I didn't. As we reached the fourth floor I was dragged down the hall. As he stooped to unlock the door I considered running, but having nowhere to go I refrained. With one final push I stumbled inside, a blast of air conditioning pushing my hair off my shoulders.
"Elliot Frollo you sweet son of a bitch," a thin boy in a black dress shirt glanced up from his card game, pushing a shock of brown hair off his forehead. Across from him another boy with a pinched face and greasy white hair moved to glance at the other's cards.
On the other side of the room a lad with curly brown hair looked up from his phone with interest. A taller boy with shaggy blonde locks stepped out of the side kitchen, his face stuck in a weird spot between curiosity and some sort of optimism. A newfound hope.
"Percy Hook," the one with his phone rose to his feet, extending a hand. I looked between him and it, raising an eyebrow.
"Caleb Deville," the boy from the kitchen nodded before disappearing back into the other room.
"Aeron," the first one playing cards pointed to himself, and then his partner, "Dylan."
I eyed the group, still feeling Elliot burning holes into my head behind me "That's all well and good but what the fuck," I crossed my arms, glaring hard.
"Jillian Heart," Aeron smirked, face morphing into a wide grin, "We're getting the band back together."
There's chapter one! I have an actor in mind for each heir, so if you leave a review I'll pm you the list. It's been a pleasure, see you next chapter!