AN: Gah, this is a long one. It's why it took me so long to write and read over. And I want to apologize in advance. No Hatter in this chapter. I know, you're all hating me already. But I had to get this chapter in. It's extremely important and has a lot of the history that you will need to know. I actually really like this chapter, but I know a lot of you are probably reading this and are waiting for your Hatter fix, which I promise is coming! I compiled this into one big chapter so that Chapter 5 will be filled with Hatter nomness, which it will. I've already started working on it. So be excited my pets. Cause I am. ^.^ The italics indicate past events in this chapter. If you get confused, send me a review and I'll happily summarize what this chapter entailed.
Shout out to Iluvdolphins and Folgersgirl for reviewing!
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VI.
Tactics
(in chess) refers to a play characterized by short-term attacks and threats which limits the opponent's options and may result in tangible gain.
This journey through the backlands of Wonderland hadn't been a very pleasant one. How she missed her beautiful throne, her lovely suits, the luxurious casino, and her prevailing authoritative command that no one dared questioned until that deviant son of hers and his twit plaything roused up the courage. And then they dare banish her--the true and rightful Queen of Wonderland who supplied nothing but satisfying emotions and insurmountable surplus for her country? But no, that damned resistance had to stick their pointy noses where they didn't belong. They reached out their sticky claws and groped her son right out from her grasp, disillusioning his mind and feeding him ugly lies.
In all honesty, had her ruling actually caused great destruction for anyone? Not counting the knights, everyone seemed to be getting along just fine—besides the oysters of course, but they weren't exactly people, only animals for harvest. The knights had not been her fault. Oh no, not at all. The Queen had wanted nothing more than to sign a hostility free treaty with the old ones, but they refused her kind offer, and like any great warrior, when they didn't give her what she wanted, she had her men invade. Was she supposed to regret that decision because it was considered morally wrong or wiped out an entire group (excluding one lone man)? She tried to be reasonable, and when they had been unreasonable, she went and she conquered. That was what defined a great conqueror—the ability to see past normal societial views of right and wrong and do the things that needed to be done that others feared to do.
She made this nation; she made her people happy; she supplied the emotions; she worked hard every year to keep the masses pleased, and this was how they rewarded her? By turning their backs and siding with that devil? Unforgivable.
But in the end, everyone would get what they deserved. She would get her city back.
Wonderland was in a widespread panic now that the oysters were gone. And it would only get worse. She warned her son before she got booted out, but he didn't listened—like always. The dependant addicts were slowly growing in their numbers and causing a lot of trouble within the city. Those were the ones she would go after when she returned to the city with more firepower—they would stand by her because of their desperate need to feel the ecstasy they longed for. And then he would pay, as would that little oyster tart that ruined everything for her.
All she needed was money and power—which explained why she was wading through these disgusting swamps and forests, risking her own life to save a city that desperately needed her leadership. She was so frantic that she was reduced to asking her sister for help-- the sister that she hadn't seen in ten long years. They called her "The White Queen" and she ruled a small town in the high mountains of Wonderland called Salamarian. It was one of the few surviving counties not ruled by the Hearts dynasty. Her sister never seemed to support the idea of extracting emotions from oysters, but never opposed it either. She took all those who didn't want to be a part of the "kidnapping" (which wasn't many) and set up a reign in the eastern mountains.
And after 3 weeks of trekking through the abandoned lands, the Queen of Hearts finally reached the small county.
And it was just her luck that she learned of her sisters' death. Brilliant.
The small town was even smaller than she imagined, made up of farms and miniature shops. She didn't understand. Why would these people prefer to live in a boring, dying town as opposed to something bigger and better? Their lack of intelligence was astounding. When she demanded to know why the hell she hadn't been informed of her dear sister's death, one of the little men replied that letters had been sent out to the families informing of such tragedies and sharing when a memorial service would be held.
That had been of course seven years ago!
The Queen never had any time to read any of the mail that people sent to her, there was way too much of it, and the majority of it was made up of petty problems involving starving families and rising resistance demands. Hardly worth any of her time. Still, at the moment, she wanted nothing more than to chop off this man's head and feed it to one of the many famished dogs wandering around the grounds.
The woman walked up to the palace which once belonged to her sister and regarded it with an insulted glare. This was just like Lucia—the one moment she needed her, the white bitch decided not to be around. Typical. Scoffing, the Queen turned thinking about what she should do now that her plans had been ruined. She was soon stopped though when an elderly woman approached her, staring at the burnt down palace.
"A tragedy isn't it?" she stated, looking at the remains sadly.
The Queen remained silent as she glanced over her shoulder. "Yes, it is," she finally replied, her voice grumpy with disappointment.
"She was a fabulous woman and a caring leader. She is deeply missed within this village."
The Queen of Hearts rolled her eyes and placed her hands on her hips, wondering what was so great about Lucia that everyone seemed to see. She turned to look at the elder, her eyes narrowed.
"I bet," she snapped, taking a seat on one of the nearby wooden benches, trying to formulate another plan. The Queen's annoyed tone didn't seem to offset the woman, seeing as she continued to speak as if they were actually having some form of conversation.
"It was just a horrible incident—and so many people died in the fire."
A fire huh? So that was what finally brought down her dear sister? She had to admit, she was disappoint and frankly, a little embarrassed.
"A fire? Lucia White, the youngest daughter of the great Heart descendents was brought down by a fire?" she asked, her voice skeptical.
The elder woman turned to look at her with an inquiring expression on her face.
"No, Lucia disappeared long before the fire took place."
The Queen stared at her with a slightly annoyed and confused look, remaining silent until the woman explained.
"She left with a caravan to visit a neighboring country to meet up with a man whom she was to remarry. But a week after her expected arrival back, we learned that she had disappeared somewhere along the journey back home. After a month and nothing to show for our hard troubles, it was deemed that she must have been killed."
The Queen looked skeptical, raising her brows and laughing softly as she tried to flatten her wrinkled red dress, "Did you ever think that maybe your perfect Queen got tired of her role as high ruler and decided to abandon her supremacy and her country? Death isn't the only explanation—"
"Death is the only explanation. Nothing would keep Lucia away from her daughter."
The woman's eyes returned to the burnt remains that had been left untouched as a memorial to those who died, "But her sudden absences took its toll on little Lucé. The child went through a depression so great that the darkness eating away her mind slowly contaminated her soul. That bright light grew dim right before our eyes, and we stood powerless and watched her fade."
Oh, that's right. Almost eighteen years ago, someone had mentioned Lucia being pregnant. However, the last time the Queen of Hearts saw her dear sister, Lucia had come to her palace and had presented no child when she came. The Queen of Hearts never did anything to recognize the child nor had she given her younger sister any gifts or counsel. She hadn't even ever seen said child.
"Lucé didn't have anyone left. Her father died soon after she was born, the rest of her family is a mystery or are too busy taking care of their own reigns to adopt a child, and the mysterious man whom Lucia was to marry, the man who should have eventually became her step-father went into a bout of madness himself from the sudden loss and hasn't been heard of since."
The Queen stood up, not entirely interested in the story anymore and more concerned about figuring out what she was suppose to do now. The villager across from her wasn't very perceptive because she continued to rattle on.
"But every trace of the White's was lost in that fire—the family tree, the legal documentations, the letters, all the servants and—," she hesitated, looking at the ground sadly. "What a horrible way to perish. Poor child."
"That's what the elders think happened but we think differently, we do."
The Queen turned and watched as three young boys, no older than fifteen approach them. She grimaced at their appearance—covered in dirt from head to toe, how indecent! Their clothing hung off their bodies and looked raggedy and worn, their skin covered in a layer of dirt and ash, their hair disheveled and tangled. Hadn't this town ever heard of a little thing called a bath? And the way they spoke and presented themselves, as if no better than the dogs sniffing for leftover scraps. How could their parents allow the hooligans to run about and disgrace the family name by their horrid appearance? It was downright shameful.
The eldest woman turned and smiled at the children, shaking her head.
"Now don't go feeding this lovely woman your tales. Allow the dead to rest peacefully."
"It isn't a tale. Johnny here saw it with his very own eyes!"
The black-headed boy standing behind the apparent leader nodded his head, his eyes wide with belief. The Queen found herself curiouser and curiouser.
"Saw what, precisely?"
The aged woman glanced over at her, disapproval in her hazel eyes.
"Now, now kind stranger, don't go on believing these children's myths. Youth sees things that we do no longer remember. It was imagination only."
"Was not!" the leader yelled out defiantly, shaking his head with confidence. "We was in the Eastern woods when we saw her! Like an angel dropped from the skies. Tell 'em, tell 'em Johnny!"
The boy reached back and grabbed Johnny, pushing him forward as if his words would produce all evidence needed. The boy in question cleared his throat and took a great breath, as if preparing for a sudden theater scene. He then began, waving his hands around and bubbling with excitement and enthusiasm.
"Only around a year went by before we kids started seeing her in the eastern woods, down near Fletcher's Market near the High East Mountains. Only a year after that fire and her presumable death," he bore his eyes into the elder's, who only rolled her eyes and shook her head comically. "We were playing 'Catch the Cat' when I saw her in the distance. I tried following her; she was humming a soft tune which carried through the wind. I followed her as fast as I could, but ended up losing her and meself in the process. Ricks found me a few hours later," Johnny said, nodding his head towards the leader who was nodding his head in agreement.
The elder woman stepped in, her hands resting softly on her hips, "The villagers searched those woods countless times, for both remains of Lucia and for this apparent sighting of Lucé, but nothing ever turned up. Nothing."
"But we's aren't the only ones! Other kids in the village swear to 'ave seen her too!"
"That was what…almost five years ago, Johnny! You could only have been nine or ten. How can you be sure that you saw her? Children tend to see through believing—"
Johnny cleared his throat and kicked the ground with the toe of his dirty and worn shoe, looking away from the elder and lowering his head. His face appeared to get red as he grew still and quiet, looking suddenly uncomfortable by the direction this conversation had gone. Ricks laughed softly and nudge his friend in the side with his elbow, a bright smile on his face.
"If Johnny here thinks he saw her, than he saw her. He had a lil' crush on the white princess, didn't yah Jon? He would spot that girl from a mile away."
The raven haired boy turned and punched his friend square in the gut, his face flushed as his friend fell to the ground gasping from the laughter and pain.
"Alright, alright. I think we both have had enough of your boyish tales. Run along now, I'm sure your mothers our calling your names for supper by now."
All three boys nodded and began to turn to leave. As they were walking away, Johnny shoved Ricks in the shoulder, growling something at the boy as they left. However, they all stopped when they heard someone calling out.
"Jonathan."
The boy turned and looked at the Queen with a surprised expression. He burrowed his brows as he stepped forward, abandoning his friends and approaching the Queen who was beckoning him towards her. She put on a pleasant smile and wrapped her arm around his shoulder, staring off into the distance.
"Where did you say this 'Eastern Woods' was located, hmm?"
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Yes, call her mad, but she was desperate and running out of options. If she could find Lucé, she might be able to persuade her to return to that old rundown village and ban together with this old Queen to take back her Kingdom. That was assuming that the boys little story had actually been true, which seemed quite unlikely. But she decided to go with her gut instinct. There would be no harm in it. Her plan was flawed and was more likely to fail than be successful, but it would be absolutely shameful if she didn't at least try.
Thus explained her present situation—trapping through these thick, abandoned wetlands the villagers called a forest. Obnoxiously incessant birdcalls reminded her of alarm clocks that never ceased, constantly telling her that her time was running out. This had to work; there was nothing left for the Queen to try. It was what fueled her to move forward—sticky step after sticky step.
She had spent the night at that strange village, and got up as soon as the sun rose in the sky that morning. Now it was mid-afternoon and all she had for her troubles were muddy boots, scratches from thorns, and a maddening hair-do. Thank the heavens Jack couldn't see her now—reduced to an animal slugging through mud and dirt. It was disgraceful and embarrassing, but if she could succeed in getting what she wanted—it would all be worth it.
Sweat dripped from her forehead, the sun high in the sky, and the precipitation creating a heavy air which caused the small insects to buzz out of their homes and dance. It made it almost hard to breathe, and she was soon huffing, her head feeling lightheaded from her strenuous pace. Eventually she stopped and sat down on a fallen tree, the lush leaves shielding her from the suns harsh rays.
She was hot, muddy, tired, and annoyed.
"How could this get any worse?"
A crackle cried out from the skies and almost instantly after she breathed out those cursed words a sheet of rain started to hail down. She sat there, now not only hot, muddy, tired, and annoyed, but wet. Her red hair matted on top of her head into a tangled mess and she groaned out in aggravation. After another minute of resting, she finally stood up and took a small step forward, ready to walk even deeper into the forest. She froze when she felt something sharp pressed against the small of her back. A voice spoke to her, its' tone as soft as a whisper but as deadly as poison.
"State your business in this here Eastern Woods, or your blood will fertilize our precious roots."
Instantly and without warning, dozens of deadly spear-like weapons were pointed at her from all sides. Like flashes of lightening they appeared in front of her, without any indication at all. They had managed to sneak up on her without making any noise. It was almost as if they vaporized from the air itself. Every time her eyes fluttered shut for but a second, more would appear around her. Before she could do anything, they surrounded her completely, cutting off any chance of possible escape. Angry, she glared daggers at the people, offended by their animalistic behavior.
"How dare you raise your weapons at me? Do you have any idea who I am!?"
The rain continued to pelt down on top of them, soaking the native's tight dark clothes and creating pools of muddy puddles everywhere. The Queen glared into the barbarian's eyes, her own widening when she saw the legendary tattoos and mutated flower designs. No, there was no way her luck was that bad. These couldn't be the legendary Flores de la Morte. If anyone in Wonderland would know of their existence, it would be her. But no one had actually claimed to have met such assassins; they were legends, myths!
Suddenly, a voice broke through the crowd. At the tone, a few of the members split, revealing two young women walking up to the tousled queen. The one woman was of Asian decent, her tall, slim figure intimidating, as where the color of the petals in her eyes—a crimson red that glowed in the light. However, the girl next to her was her antithesis. She was shorter with small features, her eyes a bright blue—the tattoo's and petals absent from her face, distinguishing her from the rest. Her blonde hair cascaded down her shoulder, dripping from the shower being sprayed upon them. Her clothes were soaked through. They didn't match the rest of the hostile force surrounding her. While they were all dressed head to toe in black, this child wore white.
She broke the silence with a smooth and humorous voice, "And who are you exactly? Surely not the Queen of Hearts anymore? For there have been whispers in the wind that demoralized your name and suggested something more," she paused, trying to find the correct word, "…embarrassing?"
A cruel smile appeared on her red lips, amusement shining in her eyes as she continued, "Banishment. You have been exiled from the reign you once ruled. Isn't that right, auntie?"
The Queen of Hearts found herself struck dumb. Was this--? Could it be? And as soon as she thought it, she knew it be true. Her next thought was blurted from her psyche before she could stop herself.
"You look just like your mother."
At this, the smile that adorned her niece was wiped from her face. Her eyes narrowed, and the air grew tense around them. Finally, after a moment of silence, the blonde spoke with a deadly tenor,
"She is but ashes and dust in the ground. Your words are uncanny."
The Queen was still fully aware of the weapons pointed at her from all directions, and she began to wonder why these people weren't attacking Lucé as well. Did she hold some kind of authority over them? But how? She was nothing but a child—with no extraordinary attributes. Once the initial shock began to wear off, she found herself thoroughly surprised that those boys had been correct in their sightings. However, at the moment she wasn't sure whether she should be thankful or ungrateful. She eyed the weapons pointed at her once more, before returning her focus to her blood relative.
"Can you tell them to lower their weapons," she demanded, not enjoying their aggressive treatment. Lucé pursed her lips, glancing at the weapons before tilting her head back at the Queen.
"I haven't decided yet," she responded, taking another step forward, her arms clasped behind her back.
The Queen grew impatient and glared at her.
"Decided what?"
Lucé's answer was almost immediate, her voice deadly, "On whether I should have them kill you or not."
The Queen paled, her throat constricting as her stomach flipped nervously, the tone of the girl's voice frightening her. She tried to keep her composure, tilting her head up as to appear confident.
"You wouldn't—"
"You think so?" Lucé asked, chewing the side of her cheek in thought. "Now, I wouldn't be too sure. I mean who are you exactly? No family of mine. I have never even met you—not once. I wouldn't even know what you looked like if it weren't for the portraits and paintings my mother kept in our home. You are nothing but a stranger to me. And we don't take kindly to strangers…"
She turned her back to her aunt and began to walk away; the red eyed woman stared at the Queen for a second before turning and following the white witch. The animals around her began to close in, their eyes glowing dangerously as they pressed their metals sharper against her skin. The Queen had nothing left to give or offer.
"Please, I need your help!"
The girl stopped and hesitated as she heard her aunt beg. Lucé spoke as one of the hunters was about to drive a spear through her relative's throat.
"Hǎyaté."
The hunter stopped as the rest of the band stepped back. Lucé slowly turned, her eyes interested. Turning her body to fully face her aunt, she tilted her head and grinned, waiting for her to continue. Taking a few deep breaths, the Queen tried to regain her composure, her feet sinking in the muddy ground as she shifted.
"I need you to help me take back my kingdom."
Lucé stared at her for quite some time, a silent plan forming in her head instantly. A smile formed on her lips, her eyes bright with vigor.
Her aunt had just made the biggest mistake of her life.
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His grip tightened around her throat causing the young woman to squirm against the wall, black dots sweeping across her vision as her quickening pulse began to ring in her ears. Alice began to panic, kicking her feet in protest as her lips parted demanding for air. Her hands flew to her neck, violently scratching at March's human hands and breaking skin. No matter how deep she dug her nails into his skin though he never released his hold on her nor did he lessen his grip. Her mind started to spin out of control, her eyes rolling back as her limps grew heavier and heavier.
Think Alice. Think!
She had to stay calm! If she didn't act soon she would lose consciousness, but if she acted too quickly, she would accomplish nothing. Racking her brain for the most effective move, she felt her feet return to the ground, March lowering her as she stopped struggling. As soon as she met solid ground, she moved. Reaching out, she placed her hand on the bend of his arm, gripping it tightly while pulling down with all her strength. Her other hand cupped the side of the rabbit's head and by placing her foot in the right place; she managed to whip March's body around until his head hit the wall behind her. His grip loosened and Alice managed to rip herself out of his hold.
She stumbled away from him, coughing and gasping as her vision wavered before her eyes. Trying to configure herself, she turned around only to find March recovered and already advancing towards her. She managed to block his first blow, but wasn't quick enough to avoid his second. His pulled a right hook and it hit her square in the chin. She fell to the ground, sporting a split lip and a bleeding mouth. Blood dripped from her mouth onto the creamy white carpets below. She couldn't feel the left side of her jaw, but her lip stung like hell. Fingers clawed into her scalp, tugging her up until she was standing. She let out a pained groan as he punched her in the stomach. Falling forward, she quickly reacted by kneeing him in the groin, satisfied when she heard him yell out in pain.
They released each other, both falling backwards to lean heavily on the opposite walls of the room. Alice was panting, blood dripping down her chin while March doubled over, trying to breath through the pain. Alice sucked in a deep breath, preparing herself to attack once more. But as she ran towards the middle of the room, she suddenly stopped when a glint of silver caught her eye. Her body tensed as her entire mind went blank.
She knew that necklace. She was fond of that necklace. It was the necklace her father bought her mother for her thirty-fifth birthday. Her mother never took it off.
A rough chuckle snapped her out of her daze. Mad March grimaced as he stood straight, holding the necklace in his one hand. He tilted his head at her and spun the chain until it wrapped around his finger. Alice swayed, the present situation suddenly rushing past her. Things had been moving so slow, but now everything was going too fast. Switching her focus from the necklace, she glared into March's eye, not moving a muscle. When he started chuckling once more, her fists clenched, her voice finally returning.
"Where is she?"
March cracked his neck, taking a breath and glancing around the darkened room, his eye focusing on the message written on the wall. After a few painful seconds, he finally looked back at her.
"Do you really wanna know? Or would ya prefer to twist my head off?"
"Nothing else on earth would grant me more satisfaction—"
"Nothin', eh? Not even seeing dear mummy one last time?"
Alice felt her stomach drop, her worst fears coming alive. Glaring at the machine standing across from her, she took a daring step forward ignoring the pains in her body, too concerned about her mother's current position.
"If you hurt her, I swear—"
The rabbit's head twitched. In a blink of an eye, he had moved until he was standing inches in front of her, dangling the pendant before her eyes. Alice froze and stared at the necklace, her throat dry. March was extremely close, his body almost touching hers. He was staring intently at her with his one visible eye.
"You'll do what, Alice? You have nothin' to threaten me with," he stated, staring at her for a few more seconds before turning his back and taking a few steps away. Alice swallowed the lump of fear in her throat down and tried to get her pulse to return to a normal beating pattern. March turned and fixed his tie and suit, cracking his neck once more.
"This is not an arrangement. This is not a negotiation. You will do as I tell you, or I will kill the one you call 'mother', that clear?"
Alice looked away from him, her eyes falling to the blood soaked walls.
"What do you want?"
March stepped forward. She could hear his footsteps approaching her but she refused to look at him, too ashamed of the deal she was making. He placed his long, cold fingers around her forearm, pulling her closer to him.
"Just your cooperation," he answered, dragging her with him as he walked out of the room and through the apartment. Alice made no move of opposition. What could she do? Fight and risk her mother's safety? Never. If something happened to her mother because of her own accord, she would never forgive herself. But if she learned that this mad machine killed her mom, he would pay. No amount of torture he received from the Queen of Hearts in the past would prepare him for the cruelty she would bestow upon him.
As they left the apartment and entered the elevator, Alice felt a wave of uneasiness spread across her. His name breathed across her mind like wind—Hatter. What if Hatter found out about this? Would he come rushing to her aid? Would he risk his life for her yet again? That of course was assuming that Mad March hadn't already killed him. Her nerves rose again as she turned to look at the rabbit.
"Hatter, where is he? He has nothing to do with this right?"
March remained still, staring forward at the closed doors. Alice squirmed in his grasp, grabbing his jacket with her fist and shaking him.
"Answer me March. I'll cooperate, I promise! Just please tell me he's alright."
She pleaded with him, her breathing heavy. March didn't answer at first, but eventually his head spun around in an unnatural way until it turned to look at Alice.
"You really care about him, don' ya?"
Alice didn't answer, her body trembling softly.
"I can't wait to see him break ya heart."
The bell rung indicating that they had reached floor one. Tightening his grip, the hare dragged Alice out of the complex, towing her down the dark streets. The cold air helped dull her aching chin, the blood on her face drying. Lifting her hand, she wiped the blood off of her face, making sure to avoid her split lip. March hadn't exactly given her a straight answer, which frightened her a great deal. Doing her best to keep up with March's long steps, she turned her body in order to look up at him.
"Where is Hatter?"
If anyone might know, it would be him. March made no sudden movements but Alice could swear his pace faltered slightly.
"Ya know, for someone who has no seat of authority in this predicament, you sure are demanding."
Alice said nothing but continued to stare up at him.
"Eh, what the hell? It'll make no difference anyhow," he shrugged, turning down an alley in order to avoid the many oysters congregating in the busy street up ahead. "You're Hatter has something that the Queen wants."
Alice narrowed her eyes in confusion, shaking her head in denial, "The Queen of Hearts? Why does she still have—?"
"No, not that overgrown cow," he interrupted harshly, approaching one of the many abandoned shacks that littered the neighborhood they had entered. Alice kept her eyes opened, searching the shadows and alleys. This wasn't the best place to be when the sun went down. No matter where they were, she felt that eyes were always on her, staring at a distance. March didn't act as though he noticed or was affected by it at all.
Her thoughts returned to their previous conversation. If he wasn't talking about the Queen of Hearts, than who? Had Jack chosen a bride?
"The Queen?" Could it be? "…duchess?"
March gave her a look, but than shook his head in what Alice could only assume to be confusion.
"Uh no. The White Queen. Hatter stole something that rightfully belonged to the Queen, and now he shall be incarcerated until he gives it back."
Alice looked up at him, her eyes wide as they entered one of the shacks.
"Hatter wouldn't—"
"Do you even know your boyfriend? This is Hatter we're talkin' about. Two-face Hatter, Conman Hatter, Mad Hatter… It is in his nature to steal; it always has been."
The way March spoke, it was although he knew from personal experience. Alice opened her mouth to call him out for it but another question settled in her mind—one that seemed more important.
"So where do I fit in all this?" she asked tentatively, glancing around the abandoned living room. March tugged her harder, forcing her to walk up the steps to the second floor.
"You will be our leverage."
She was about to open her mouth when a gunshot shook the small home. Alice winced and kneeled onto the ground, startled by the earsplitting noise. March stopped walking but didn't appear to be alarmed. They both stopped at the top of the steps, facing a door to the far left which was closed but had spray-paint covering every inch. Alice panicked when she heard voices coming from the other side of the door.
"Breeve, shoot him again!"
"Where the hell did he go?!"
More gunshots blasted from the hidden room. March tilted his head to the side before grabbing Alice again and tugging her forward. Reluctantly Alice followed but as they got closer and the bullets didn't stop, she tugged desperately at March.
"Look, I know you have guns in your world. Let me just remind you, that mask won't hold up against bullets! This could be suicide!" She whispered desperately at him. When he didn't listen to her warning, she began to fight back. She was just about to spin out of his grasp when he swung the necklace in his fingers again. Her eyes widened and she looked at him, growing still as he placed his hand on the doorknob.
"Breeve, behind you! Behind you!"
"He's too fast! How can he move that fast?!"
March opened the door which prompted the two thugs to spin around, guns raised and eyes frightened. They were dressed in the typical brute garments, mostly dark colors with hats covering their heads and steel tipped black boots. They took in the appearance of Alice and March, and for a split second their weapons wavered.
"What the fu--?"
What happened next happened so fast that Alice couldn't tell what actually took place. A man who almost seemed to vaporize from the shadows appeared behind the thugs, his eyes glowing a golden hue amplified due to their dark environment. One of the thugs instantly fell to the floor in a blur of yellow, his neck twisted in the wrong direction. The strange man attacked the other thug as he turned to find out what happened to his partner. In less than a second, the criminal had large gashes covering his skin. Blood ran like rivers down his body and his screams filled the small house. The blood fell into his eyes, blinding him and he fell to the floor, raising his gun to shoot randomly. Before he could even lift it a little, the weapon was kicked out of his hands and his was pushed back so he was lying on his back. The attacker raised his knee and sent his foot crashing down onto his throat. Breeve chocked and gurgled on what Alice could only assume to be his own blood until he finally drowned in it.
Alice felt her legs shaking, her eyes staring at this brute before her. His fingers were dripping with fresh blood, and a few drops of the crimson were spattered across his face, but his dark clothes remained unsoiled. He turned to face the two, his expression dead and waiting for orders. Was this man-? Did March hold authority over such a force? Her fear spiked to new levels.
"Let's go," March demanded, pushing Alice forward.
"Not until I know my mom is safe," she risked, staring at the faces of the two dead people in front of her and hoping to all the Gods in the sky that she didn't resemble them. March sighed deeply and looked at the other man in the room.
"Train."
The man bowed slightly and walked forward, heading towards another room in the house. March pushed Alice forward, eyeing the dead men.
"Follow him," he said, grabbing one of the guns and checking for ammunition. Alice walked forward, anxiety eating away her strength and making her hands shake with unease. She entered into a larger room—a master bedroom perhaps. The first thing she noticed was a familiar looking large mirror taking up one side of the room. However, her mind reared off course completely when her eyes fell onto a beaten form lying on the bed. Alice ran forward, cradling the bleeding woman in her arms, tears in her eyes.
"Mom? Mom, wake up. Look at me, please."
Her mother's face was bruised and covered in small cuts as was the rest of her body. Her clothes were sticking to her skin in some places and she could distinctively see a tint of dark red staining different patches of her clothing. But what scared her most was the large gash across the side of her head. It was bleeding profusely, dripping onto the white pillows her head was laying against. Carol was breathing but she wasn't waking up or stirring to the sound of her daughter's panicked voice. Alice turned her head as she heard March entering the room. She jumped off of the bed and ran over to him, pushing him so hard against the torso that he collided with the wall.
"You bastard! What did you do!?"
She stepped forward, pulling her fist back to smash into his mask, but froze when two gold eyes flashed in front of her, blocking March from her sight. The assassin stood merely inches in front of her, his fingers pressing against the bend of her throat. Her heart skipped a beat—she hadn't even heard or seen him move. March laughed softly, his hand on Train's shoulder.
"You have one of two choices, Alice. You can come with us willingly, or we'll drag your unconscious form to the Queen's throne. Your choice, but no matter what, you will be going back to Wonderland with us."
Alice shook her head, still aware of Train's fingers at her throat, her pulse pounding against his skin, "I will not leave my mother here alone."
March let out an annoyed sigh, his one blue eye rolling.
"Stubborn child," he muttered, turning away. Alice moved quickly. She whipped her head to the right as her right hand batted the tattooed man's fingers away. Remembering her classes, she prepared a round house kick but the second that her foot should have collided with his face, he disappeared. A soft breeze alerted her that a presence was behind her, but as she spun around she was attacked. The fight didn't last for more than ten seconds but by the end, Alice was on the floor gasping for air and sweating, having a hard time moving and barely able to keep her eyes open. He had hit her in the neck three different times, each time a different part of her body grew numb and paralyzed. He also hit her shoulder, lower back, and her otter thigh causing her to fall to the ground, wheezing for air. Pressure points? Who was this guy? How did he have such amazing percision? And how was he able to incapacitate her so easily?
March hovered over her, brow raised, "You thought a few thugs would be deadly, yet you pull a move like that on a guy like this? Why, she's stark ravin' mad."
He stepped forward, walking closer to the mirror. Train followed closely behind, picking Alice up without any effort and draping her over his one shoulder. As she furthered herself from her mother, Alice tried reaching out her hand in an insane attempt to perhaps grab onto her.
"In she goes," March said, somewhere behind her.
As Train shifted her in his hold, she called out, "Mom!" But before she could do anything useful she was shoved into something not entirely solid, yet not completely liquid either. Suddenly, she was screaming and falling. Colors swirled all around her, her mind spinning as the sound of freefalling filled her ears. She was afraid to look but she couldn't close her eyes. A dark surface appeared to be approaching from below and just before she was about to slam into it, a sensation of that of a parachute stopped her deadly fall. She floated in mid-air for a split second before finally crumpling to a pitiful mess on the ground.
Her hearing was muffled and everything around her seemed to be moving too fast. An unbearable ringing was giving her a headache, but she was thankful to find that she could move her limbs slightly. They hurt like hell on earth, but at least she wasn't paralyzed anymore. Licking her dry lips, she pushed herself up until she was in a sitting position. Whatever she was laying on was cold and wet. When she glanced down she realized she was laying in a patch of grass which was covered in frost. The once beautiful flowers around her were dead and wilted—but all too…familiar. Looking up, she recognized the long, dark hallway, the sparking wires hanging from the ceiling and the dimmed lights swaying in the breeze.
She was back.
She had returned to Wonderland.
Standing up, she took an unsteady step forward, surprised to find that the flooded hallway was now covered in a patch of ice. She carefully stepped onto it, ignoring her aching limbs as best she could. Heels and ice were never a good combination, but as long as she took things slow, she'd be fine.
A sudden screeching behind her startled her and she slipped, landing ungracefully on her butt. Turning her head, she felt her stomach churn nervously when March fell from the large hole in the ceiling, landing gracefully on both legs. The man entitled Train landed next to him a few seconds later. Alice hesitated for a brief second before awkwardly standing up and running in the opposite direction. She just hoped she could remember her way.
When she began to run, March heaved a deep sigh, "Seems set on playin' a game of cat an' mouse."
He ran forward, ready to hunt. Train however hesitated, eyeing the ice with malice before eventually following. Alice could hear the hare behind her and to her disappointment, he seemed to have better balance than she. He slid forward and with his stroke of luck, managed to knock her down. He held the gun to her forehead as she began to get up. She froze when the felt the muzzle against her skin. Raising her hands in defeat, she slowly stood up, closing her eyes and sighing out hopelessly. Train took his spot next to March, his fingers on the wall for support. March took a breath and nodded to the door to their right.
"Go," he ordered which Alice complied, walking out of the door and down the hall, holding her breath and trying to keep her balance, her hands still raised in the air. She continued to walk forward until she came to a set of double doors which she pushed opened but immediately stopped when she took a step outside. She remembered this place all too well. And she remembered the thing she hated most about Wonderland—the heights. The buildings were still run down and seemingly abandoned, and there was still a long way down if one should slip. The altitude made her panic and cling to the brick wall for safety. But she did notice that Wonderland had changed even if slightly. The skies were dark—like it was about to storm, the clouds so ghastly it was almost haunting. And snow covered different patches of the ground along with ice and frost.
March walked out next, turning to look at Alice and laughing softly at her scared expression. He told her to move forward again and she grudgingly obliged. Trying to get her mind off of the plummeting gap next to her, she thought about her mother and used that to fuel her anger. If anything happened to her, she would make March pay. Thankfully, time moved differently here than it did in her world. The last time she had been in Wonderland only a few hours had gone by. If she could get out of Wonderland soon, she might be able to get her mother safely to a hospital.
First things first, she had to find Hatter. She had to figure out what the hell happened here. March had said that there was a new queen in Wonderland—the White Queen was it? If that were true, what happened to Jack? Where was he? Did he give up his kingdom? It was unlikely. But then, how did age work in this world? If time moved faster, did that mean Jack was already dead? As for that, did the denizens of Wonderland age like those from her world? Still walking, Alice had no idea where they were headed. The Hearts Casino had been obliterated. Had they rebuilt it? She didn't like not knowing what was going on and at the moment, she felt as though she was oblivious to the world around her—just like she felt the first time she ventured to Wonderland, but at that time she had Hatter to help guide her and keep her safe. Now, she was stuck with March and his freakish killer friend. She didn't trust them to guide her safely to Hatter.
Turning down a corner, she heard a familiar cry before a horse came bolting forward.
"Sir Charles Eustace Fautheringay la Malfoy the Third has come to thwart the injustices of this plague!"
The proceedings happened so fast that no one, not even Train was prepared to defend himself. A horse flew forward and knocked the side of its rear into the tattooed man. Train slipped on the ice and fell backwards until his balance, which seemed messed up due to the winter conditions sent him flying off the edge and sky diving to the rocks below. Alice grabbed onto one of the nearby trees, afraid that the same would happen to her. She glanced up and felt her eyes widen with both relief and panic.
"Charlie!"
"Yes, Alice of Legend, it is I, the White Knight—come to your service once more," he spoke flippantly, trying to fish his sword out but the metal getting stuck in its holster, as always.
Alice watched as the horse her old friend was riding spun around in circles because it wasn't getting proper directions from the driver. Eventually, it got fed up and stopped moving, his butt facing March. Charlie groaned in mystery, looking forward.
"Where did he go?" He muttered before turning around and spying March behind him. "Ah ha! You sir thought you could fool me? Now you are trapped in my claws! Felcie, turn around so I may face this nugbag head on!"
As Charlie struggled to turn his horse around Alice wasn't sure whether to be relieved that she had been rescued or worried that now March had two captives.
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Charlieeeeeee! He's like my favorite character in Alice, truely! I can't wait to play with his character more. Well, now it's 6 in the morning so I guess I'll go to sleep. When I wake up, I hope to see some nice reviews. :D Chapter 5 should be up soon, and get ready for Hatter to come back into the story. We're are only about one chapter away from when Chapter one takes place! Thanks everyone!