Title: Wonderland Insanity's Judai
Genre: horror, romance
Rating: M for intense violence, language, and character death (possible lemon)
Pairings: JohanXJudai (hinted others)
Summary: Little Judai's all grown up, and taking Wonderland by the throat. The little Judai we all know and love has vanished. After the brutal murdering of his parents, Judai has gone insane and is eventually sent to an insane asylum, where he is left and forgotten and abused for at least 10 years. One night, the White Rabbit, AKA Shou, comes and tells Judai that Wonderland is in trouble. The Queen of Hearts has taken Johan hostage and now everyone is corrupted and people are dying! It's up to Judai to defeat the Queen of Hearts, save Johan, and all of Wonderland, while at the same time, trying to save the small shred of sanity that he has left.
Me: Chapter six of "Wonderland Insanity's Judai"!
Lucy: In the previous chapter, Judai was sent on a mission to find the Mock Turtle's shell, which was taken by the Duchess. And the Duchess was one of Judai's dearest friends back in Wonderland when he was a child, but in the last chapter, he...
Me: He had no choice but to kill Rei.
Lucy: And now, we continue.
Stage Three Point Two: The Mock Turtle
"Is that the boy from the neurotics ward?"
"Yes."
"Hmph. Tiny stick of a thing, isn't he?"
My mind was clouded then, so clouded. They kept me drugged all the time, uneasy and unknowing.
"Doesn't eat much."
"Come now, Judai, you can't enjoy this."
I didn't. I never would. But I wouldn't give them the satisfaction of seeing me cry, of seeing me upset. I kept my bald head lowered, my tears dripping when I was alone. Insanity often made madmen such as me able to handle many things.
Despite that, my tears wouldn't stop falling.
Insanity won't cure that.
The Mock Turtle and the Lion were waiting for me when I returned. They didn't say anything, but I knew they saw me. I didn't bother to clean up my face: the blood from Rei's splattered skull stained my left cheek, the flecks of vomit on my shirt and lips tasted and smelled terrible, the tears stained my cheeks beyond fixing. Yet I managed a blank, dead expression. I wouldn't let them see my madness. Wouldn't let them see me down.
"Did you take care of the Duchess?" asked Amethyst Cat.
"Mm." I tossed the giant tortoise shell I found in the Duchess's house to the turtle. "There."
"My shell!" He snatched the shell up and kissed it. His beady eyes filled with tears, happy, and he hugged the shell tight. He fitted it back on while I stared at the Pool of Tears.
Amethyst Cat slinked up and laid beside me. I didn't give her a second thought. The fish danced underneath the Pool of Tears, under the surface, sharp teeth and corruption waiting to kill me when I took a step in. Wonderland hated me. Wonderland loved me. Wonderland was mad.
And so was I.
"How did you handle the Duchess?" the Mock Turtle asked me.
I shrugged my shoulders. "Pepper to the face," I told him. "Her head blew up."
The Lion blinked her wide eyes at me. "You...killed her?"
"I've changed quite a bit, Miss Lion." She didn't seem to be angry with me, and I took that as a good sign. Still, I didn't care what they thought. I pulled Johan's knife out and cleaned the bottom of my boot while they stared at me. I exhaled through my nose and set the knife back in my beltloops. "Ten years ago I never would have hurt a fly. You didn't see me back then, but I never hurt anyone. Then the fire happened, and now I—" The memories of the fire stopped me. I shook my head. "No. I'm sorry. Forget about it."
The Mock Turtle closed his wet eyes. "How tragic."
"I've moved beyond it," I said, looking at the bandages on my wrists. "I've found ways to deal."
"How?" the Lion asked.
I wished she wasn't so insistent, but I felt the need to keep answering. "My bandages should give it away." I showed them the bandages, and when they didn't understand, I unwound them and showed the scars. Some were fresh, others were old and silver. The Lion caught her breath, and the Mock Turtle gasped, but I rewrapped them like it was no big deal. "There were many a time when I wished for death," I explained to them. "But whenever I tried, I couldn't die. The doctors found and 'saved' me. And whenever I felt like I wanted to live—truly wanted to live—something would happen and I would nearly die. Or I would suffer so much that I wanted to die."
"Like what?" the Mock Turtle prompted.
I wanted to stop talking, but they insisted on hearing the ending. My story was ongoing. I'd continue until Wonderland came to kill me.
"When I was twelve, they realized I wasn't safe enough for the rehabilitation center. I attacked people, saw things. They sent me to an asylum, and I was part of the neurotics' ward. They shaved my head and wrapped me in a straightjacket, and for twenty-three hours I was all by myself. I cried so much those times. Never in front of the doctors. They kept me there—the asylum was known as Rockafeld Mental Institution—for at least four years. In the first few months, my hair grew right back, long and shaggy. Because I was tied down, I wasn't struggling much. I had two doctors then, two men who worked in the ward, and they...they made my life a hell."
I curled up, closed my eyes, and continued. I was talking for me now, not for them.
"The doctors...raped me, every day. Sometimes they did it one after the other, sometimes it was just one of them. But they were both always there. Because I was mad, the others took my screaming as the notions of a madman, and ignored me. If I yelled words, the doctors sedated me and made me lose my voice. At least eight times, I couldn't say anything, couldn't make any noise. I hated the way they looked at me, hated the way they used me. I swore I'd kill them. I never did.
"Eventually, they deemed me safe enough to return to the rehabilitation center. I was paraded through town like a monster, tied up and dragged. If I fell, they dragged me until I rose. Beaten and bloody, I made it to the rehabilitation center."
My eyes opened, and I looked at their stunned faces, smiling. "The rest's pretty self-explanitory. No one believed me, so I lived with my bottled emotions."
"That's...awful," the Lion breathed.
"I've let it rule my life," I told her, looking at the Pool of Tears—my tears. "The past is the past, but it's also my present."
They didn't talk to me for a few minutes, taking in my story. I used the opportunity to spend it with Johan. I imagined how things would have been if the fire hadn't started on the night I returned from Wonderland. I'd grow up, living with my family and then probably being married to a woman from another county, and then I would return to Wonderland, to Johan and my friends. Somehow, someway I would return to them. I dreamed about it so often. It was my salvation when I was laying naked and broken on the table, unable to curl up and protect myself because of the straightjacket. I imagined Johan running into the room and killing the doctors when he found out what they'd been doing to me. Those dreams were just that: dreams. Johan couldn't come out of Wonderland to save me, and no one from Wonderland was coming.
"Judai?"
I lifted my head, and the Mock Turtle was kneeling before me. His beady eyes were filled with concern.
"Mm?" I groaned.
"It's time we move along," he told me.
Despite how little I knew them, I felt a wave of sorrow. "Oh...okay."
"You misunderstand me." The turtle placed his beefy claws on my shoulders and hauled me to my feet. "You are coming with us, Judai. The White Rabbit gave us the order to bring you to him across the Pool of Tears as soon as we could."
I blinked. "Shou did?"
"Yes," the Lion said. "Tortoise will take you. I, for one, cannot breathe underwater. But the Mock Turtle can. And you can follow his bubble path and breathe as well."
"Fascinating," I said, rolling my eyes.
She laughed lightly and nuzzled my cheek with her cool, wet nose. After the events of this evening, her comfort was well appreciated. I reached up and scratched behind her ear, and was rewarded by a loud purr of happiness.
For some reason, that made me thankful.
Even though I was mad, even if I would be insane for the rest of my life, I could still be a benefit to people. I could still make people happy. The people of Wonderland needed me, and I'd be damned if I let the Queen of Hearts knock me into the dust.
I'm coming for you, Johan. Wait just a little bit longer.
I rose to my feet, glaring at the Pool.
"Let's go."
One would expect my trip to be enjoyable, I assume.
Perhaps you thought the air bubbles would make sure I could breathe underwater, and maybe you even thought the Mock Turtle was bringing me into a safe area that no creatures would be in. Perhaps you even believed things would be okay for me, for once in my life.
My trip was none of these.
The air bubbles worked, to an extent. My lungs were screaming for proper air at least three seconds in, and the trip was long, so incredibly long.
The water beneath Wonderland was as corrupted as the land above.
The Mock Turtle seemed to forget all about me, so I had to struggle to catch up. Which, adding to the breathing problem, wasn't much fun. I clawed after him and yelled when I had the chance, but he never seemed to hear me. It was like one of those dreams when you're running to catch someone and can't—and I'd had plenty of those dreams (all of them with Johan, thank you very much). I hated the feeling, but simply drifted on after the Mock Turtle, struggling only when it suited me.
Things were all right until the fish appeared.
Wait, let me back up first.
Under the surface, things were just a bit calmer. The corruption was still there, but my world wasn't nearly as dark now. Bitter sunlight glanced off the surface of the Pool of Tears, lighting up the underground with shades of green and blue. For a moment, I actually believed Wonderland might be all right, in the end. As the Mock Turtle swam past some fallen pillars—parts of monuments I hadn't ever seen under the water in the rapid currents—I truly believed that I would be able to defeat my growing insanity. Part of me still held doubt, but that was to be expected. Part of me always had doubts about the things I chose to say and do.
I kicked my legs, slowly back and forth, and followed the Mock Turtle as calmly as I dared. The air bubbles weren't the least bit relaxing, but at least I could breathe and see.
Wonderland will be all right, I told myself.
My entire existence was suddenly defined by pain.
It felt as if something snagged my arm—like a sharp log or a piece of driftwood. I struggled, flailing for a moment, aware of the pain building up in my wrist. It didn't last long. Whatever it was, it let me go and disappeared when I turned to look.
The water around me was suddenly very crimson.
I looked through the eking redness to my wrist. There were deep puncture wounds, right on the forearm, and some flaps of skin were billowing open in the water. The sight should have made me ill, should have made me feel everything except what I did feel. Looking down at my arm, I felt...happy. Happy to realize I could still feel pain. Happy that something had hurt me. Happy that now, I had a reason to kill and ruin something's life.
The Mock Turtle hadn't stopped swimming, now fifteen meters ahead of me. My lungs screamed for air, and I swam with my bloody arm to catch up.
Whatever got me before decided to come back.
Out the corner of my left eye, I saw a massive black shape shooting toward my face. Serated silver teeth glinted in the yawning black hole that was its mouth. In a quick motion, I flicked Johan's knife into the thing's beady red eyes. It was a fish, I realized—scaly body about the size I was, face puckered and thin, eerie and haunting in the depths of the water. It thrashed, and the knife tore it's eye socket into pieces. Bubbles exploded from its mouth, screaming if it could. I grinned and drove the dagger home in its soft underbelly. The fish died seconds later, and floated to the surface. Thick globs of red blood stained the ruins and the water around me. So much for the beauty of the undersea.
The Mock Turtle drifted toward the surface of the water, toward a bank. I slowly followed.
When we climbed out of the water, I noticed just how badly my arm had been hurt. My Oyster mark was coated in gobs of garnet, the smell of iron was thick and sickening, and every six seconds there were sharp stabs of pain.
Despite this, I sat on the white sand of this corrupted Wonderland and looked at the Pool of Tears.
The Mock Turtle scurried beside me. "Judai," he whispered, looking at my bloody arm. "Did something attack you?" I didn't answer with word—I just nodded. He quickly went to work ripping shreds of my sleeve off and making a tourniquet with them. It certainly didn't look strong, but was as tight as a boa constrictor. Relief and gratitude flooded my veins. I thanked him with a quick nod. "Thank you, Judai," he told me, "for bringing my shell back to me."
"Don't mention it," I said.
"No, really. Thank you, Judai." His expression softened. "We all have faith in you, you know."
My expression must have darkened, or turned sad; he looked suddenly regretful. "Don't," I told him. "Please, just—just don't."
The Mock Turtle patted me on the head. "Many of us have faith in you," he continued anyway. "Even after ten years, we have faith in you. We know you've been going through something terrible, Judai, and that is why Wonderland is this way."
I perked up, confused. "What...?"
His expression paled. "I—I have said too much. Thank you, Judai. And good luck."
Quickly, he turned back to the Pool of Tears.
"Wait!" I cried, screambling to my feet. "I—I need to know what you meant by—" But it was too late; the Mock Turtle slipped under the surface of the Pool of Tears, and disappeared. I stood on the edge of the bank, eyes wide, contemplating what the Turtle had said. We know you've been going through something terrible, Judai, and that is why Wonderland is this way. "Wonderland's corrupted...because of me?" I lifted my head to the cloudy skies, and whispered, "Is it because I'm...corrupted, too?"
I'm corrupted?
Looking back on it, that made so much sense. Wonderland was insane because I was.
B-but I'm not insane!
Stop lying to yourself. You're as mad as a hatter. Madder, even.
I whirled on the brushes of Wonderland, glaring in the direction I believed the Queen of Hearts would be awaiting. "I may be insane," I shouted over the roar of the wind, "and I may be the one who began this wicked corruption, but I'm sane enough to know that you're the one ruining Wonderland right now, 'Your Majesty'! I swear, for all those people you've tainted, for all those people you hurt, I'll end you, do you hear me? I'M GOING TO FUCKING DESTROY YOU!"
In the distance, I could have sworn—on the wind—I heard a vicious laugh, followed by the loud command of, "Off with his head!"
Me: Okay! So the Mock Turtle has brought Judai to the other end of Wonderland.
Lucy: Where will his adventures bring him?
Me: Oh, and for anyone who's interested, these are several songs that suit Judai as he is right now: Funhouse by Pink, Unknown Soldier by Breaking Benjamin (this one is what I was listening to during this chapter as I wrote it!), Indestructible by Disturbed, and Mitternacht by E Nomine. They're all really good songs, but they really suit Judai.
Lucy: More or less, they go in chronological order. Funhouse represents when he was in the asylum, and trapped with his memories, and then when he first saw how much Wonderland had changed. Then Unknown Soldier represents him at the current moment, a bit solemn and moving mechanically.
Me: And finally, Indestructible and Mitternacht deal with his possible future, or the way he might be in future chapters after realizing he has to kill his friends.
Lucy: We will update as soon as we can, so please review!