The Ashes of Wonderland

Part 4

Torn Paper Moon

Sliver of red for sacrifice of love

Seemingly stains on satin gloves

She shuffled on the hospital bed, the paper gown loud against the air's sterility. Her feet hung nearly ten inches off the ground. This made her feel even more like a child. She curled and fanned her toes restlessly. The paper that lined the examination bed was prominently damaged due to human weight and human tread. No matter, though. It would just be rolled down when the next patient came through, fresh, new, and ready to be pillaged under the weight of the human body. It felt so foreign against the bed, which was so much like a leather car seat, like it was cutting into the very being of the examination room.

The exams were over. Finally. The embarrassment of being stripped, scanned, and processed was over. Finally. The shower had rid her of that copper smelling liquid called LCL. Finally.

It still clung to her hair, though, the scent did. Randomly, it would surface inside her nostrils. It brought an eerie feeling to the surface of her skin. It crawled across her shoulders like a heated spider on the march, back and forth. The legs were pricking her skin like ghosts would, on the verge of rubbing like mad. It reminded her of the woman. It reminded her of an evil inside her old womb. It reminded her of velvet gowns, pearl strings, and pain.

The concave of her elbow itched under the bandaid. She scratched it as best she could, careful not to pull the adhesive strips from her skin. The strips pulled, but did not detach. Curious, she pulled them away. The bit of bandage had a smear of red, brownish at the edges, and she could tell where the needle had been inserted to draw blood. The nurse had warned her not to do this, peeling it away, saying that a bruise would form. She didn't care. A tiny bruise was nothing.

Her clothes lay on a chair near the bed, folded neatly, the black shirt against the grey skirt, no tights this time, showing the world and herself that some things never seem to change, but simply rearrange. She didn't feel like putting them back on just yet. She knew they weren't warm.

The sun signaled the hour, which was past noon. It filtered in through the blinds, creating transparent stripes against the wall and floor, ones that faded from blue to dark grey. Through the slats, she could see the sun reflecting flaming-white against scratches in the glass. Masking tape and plastic covered a section, badly repaired in record time by some apathetic minimum-wage worker in this facility.

She was hungry.

-----

In another room, one with broad floors but a tight ceiling, a frown was drawn on a major's face and her body rigid, feet placed together unnaturally and hands at her sides, palms held firmly against her thighs. Carefully, her body and stance was observed over gloved knuckles and through tinted glasses. To her, the light's glare hid the eyes of the ranking officer. Oh, how she hated him, deep inside the fourth chasm of her heart. She was so sure that he had spoken out the command to take the life of, to murder, the only man she had given her spirit, no matter the carnal nature of the relationship. However, she could not reveal this to the hated man. It was her job to put on a mask of apathy, no matter how cheap the guise.

He spoke first.

"The Sixth Child… I trust her tests went well."

She responded without hesitance.

"Yes, Commander. Her synch ratio averaged at twenty-five during the plug simulation tests."

"Then she will be assigned to Unit 02 as soon as repairs are completed. She must be fully briefed shortly. We cannot allow her to remain in the dark for much longer."

"Understood, sir."

"Dismissed, Major."

"But sir… what if she—"

"Dismissed, Major Katsuragi."

A grinding moment of silence.

"Yes, sir."

She exited the room.

The room reflected back the silence of departure with crimson walls, designs from a half-dead religion trailing one after another on both low ceiling and wide floor. The single desk made the room seem even more vast.

"Fuyutsuki…" Gendo Ikari said, addressing the man standing to his right, the man who had remained silent during the entirety of Major Katsuragi's interview.

"Yes, Commander?"

"The Old Man is up to something."

"Yes, and whatever he's doing, it is being done without our knowledge… again."

"Indeed."

"What are we going to do, Commander?"

A moment passed.

"Play along," Commander Ikari stated, his voice not taking said devious acts as threatening, "When the final act is upon us, we will throw off our masks and reveal ourselves queens, rather than pawns. These secret acts will be Keel's regrets."

"Understood."

-----

He looked in the door's window, the metal wires letting a person truly know that the door separated them both. The metal gleamed against fluorescent lighting. She was alone, sitting on the bed. The gown did truly nothing to cover the girl's curves and flesh. The white paper slit up her thigh, exposing all the way to the hip, tempting a glimpse if she moved her position even slightly. The excited tingle felt disconnected from his body, rather than from inside it, like something simply taped or slapped or glued onto him. Something foreign against himself.

She was the same girl. The same girl as before. He remembered the warmth of her flesh as his arm had grazed her back and breast. The ivory valley between them had been revealed to him as she lay there, almost frail, almost fragile. She had smelled like vanilla wafers. He wanted to fall into her, to wrap himself up in that innocent little form. Her whole body was warm. It was much warmer than the store's floor had been. It was much warmer than many things here.

But he could never touch something so nice again. He'd already destroyed something beautiful. He could no longer be trusted to care for pretty little delicate things.

Violet eyes.

Even so…

Pretty pouted pink lips.

It seems like maybe…

"No… it's my fault… sorry…"

Perhaps she could be the one to help him.

This place was binding to him. It strangled him with ghostly and ghastly hands. Unseen and unfelt, but still there nonetheless. As quiet as he kept his mouth, inside, he was screaming. A faint form inside himself was shouting from behind a foggy mirror, beating and shrieking out a thousand curses in a thousand languages. He needed someone to help him. He needed someone to relieve him of this place, to relieve him of everything.

However, perhaps, she could be the one to hinder him.

Asuka had come as well. With fiery hair and fiery Evangelion and fiery tongue, she had come. He didn't feel freedom when she came. He didn't feel the ultimate relief. Under her gaze and tone, he felt emotionally molested. She shut down all of his defenses. She tore down all his walls, leaving him in the wake to build stronger and stranger ones in hopes that she couldn't touch him anymore. She would never let spill any secret from her own past, but always seemed to split apart all mystery behind her clothing. She forced herself on him in ways he'd hoped for, but still in ways he'd never imagined and ways he almost hated.

Her hot tongue in his mouth, running against his surprised teeth.

His hand jerked once and then fell quiet as it lay lightly against his thigh.

He never died when Asuka came. Why should this girl be anything different? Why should she let him die when Asuka had not?

Somehow, as much as he wanted to speak with her, he did not reach for the doorknob. This place had made him destroy something or someone or love. This place had turned and sprayed Unit 01's colossal hand with crimson, color of life and the eyes. Angel eyes. Ayanami's eyes. He didn't want to touch anything inside this capsule of awful hidden beneath the earth.

"That is the Sixth Child, Shinji."

Misato.

She stood to his side. She did not look to him, but fixed her gaze on the same object he did, the girl.

"Her name is Hotaru Tomoe. She came here from Kyoto the day before yesterday. Her residency is six blocks from Rei's, so you can go visit her if you'd like."

So cold.

He knew that she was detached from herself. Her words appeared to be enthusiastic and forgetful, but, instead, were awkward in the way only a familiar person would know. He knew that she was trying to reattach herself to him, to reclaim a once-formed bond, severed through Kaoru's death, through her orders.

"I can't make you do this, Shinji. In fact, I don't want you to."

"Do what?" His words were so soft that they almost caught themselves in his throat.

She didn't answer him.

Instead, she turned the knob.

The door was opened. She stepped inside. Her shoes sounded out and quickly died as the door shut itself.

He never moved.

-----

The door had opened and Hotaru looked up. The tall form of Major Katsuragi stood in the doorway. She appeared so stiff and formal. There was a moment of silence, almost as if the Major was judging Hotaru, appraising her, determining worth in both time and character from glances. She took a breath.

"Do you know what caused Second Impact?"

The question was abrupt and unsettling. Hotaru hesitated in answering.

"They told you it was a meteor, didn't they?"

Sure. Why not? She could play along to conspiracy.

"Yes."

Major Katsuragi kept an even distance from the girl. She took another breath and began to speak, pulling out memorized words, words that seemed to have been said a thousand times to her and by her.

"The Second Impact was not caused by a meteor. It was caused by an expedition to the epicenter…"

Hotaru gripped the metal siding to the bed. Her fingers' bones felt the strain and resistance. Her eyes focused on the crack where the floor met the wall. Dirt was forming there. She ran her eyes over the entire form of the lightly caked grime, not truly taking it in, but also knowing each and every shade of color threaded into it. It was merely meant to be a distraction.

Human mistakes.

"A mysterious creature, called an Angel and dubbed Adam, had appeared at the South Pole…"

Pale white screams against a hurricane.

"In an attempt to stop the creature, the expedition made a mistake. Disastrous results ensued, which can still be felt today…"

The first time she saw fear in those blue eyes.

"Even though it was horrid, it was only a fraction of what could have occurred. The entire human race could have been consumed by this creature. Instead, only a few lives were lost…"

Blood spraying across the snow and becoming indented roses.

"Years ago, a secret government organization was formed in order to further prevent beings like the one fifteen years ago to appear. That organization was called NERV. So far, we have seen seventeen of these creatures."

So, it wasn't as bad as what it could have been. Good. Perhaps their sacrifice had not been in complete vain.

She still wanted to tear open the hospital's preciously white wall and die in it.

Hotaru's mouth opened and she spoke.

"Why are you telling me this?"

The major's expression remained the same, as if the answer was just another recitation.

"I'm educating you on what really happened, not what the government's official reports said. You wouldn't recall what really happened during Second Impact. You weren't even born yet," she pointed out.

Hotaru frowned and bit the inside flesh of her mouth, just below her lip, with her canines. She pressed against her chest with inner hands. She knew that she could not utter it. She could not breathe it. She could not think it.

But, oh, how she desired to counter that.

Because she did remember.

She was there.

She remembered the ground trembling.

Author notes:"Suffocating Alice" still belongs solely to me, because of copyrights through Fiction Press. Also, it's been said that my pacing is incredibly slow. "Why is it so slow?" they ask, in words much more polite. Reason: Time passes slower when a person is sad, lonely, or depressed. An hour can feel like multiple times that amount. Things are noticed in extreme detail, but are often forgotten. Also, it is very important that you know the mind-set of every character used. Everything described is symbolic or important in some way. As the story evolves, so will the way the chapters are written. However, things will move much quicker as the conflict picks up, around part 7.

Concerning updates: I do not know when I will be on the internet next. I am currently living in a hotel, where there is not a computer or internet access in sight. I will be trying to get onto the computer at the local college (where I am attending) as much as possible. Also, I am not sure how well I will be able to get back into the storyline. It's been nearly a year since I last updated and a lot has changed in my life for the better, so there is no longer that depression to go on whilst writing. Let's hope that I'm a decent writer and can still convey sorrow, even though I'm happy now...

Songs listened to while writing:

Assemblage 23 – Cocoon

Beth Hart – L.A. Song

The Eagles – Hotel California

Theatre of Tragedy – Cassandra

Stonesour – Bother

Within Temptation – Blooded

Lord of the Rings soundtrack – Forth Eorlingas, The Steward of Gondor