Chapter Two:
Emblym laid in her bed, bored. They sent her to an insane asylum for murdering the woman until she was able to be rehabilitated or until she turned eighteen, whichever came first.
Emblym was also put in a straitjacket at all times due to her tendency to get... Stabby. She usually kept her knife on her since she wasn't really able to part from it. She had usual meet-ups with her psychiatrist, Janice, who helped her with her feelings, teaching her to talk through them instead of using violence.
Janice explained how her psychosis was quite bad, and was probably causing her to develop anger-management issues. She gave Emblym exercises to do when she felt agitated or 'stabby'.
Emblym didn't like it — she didn't like Janice either. She tried to stab her, rip out her throat and paint with the woman's blood, but the guard stopped her. Emblym thrashed, trying to get out, but due to her contained arms and the man's weight, she was forced to lie limp and glare at the woman.
Janice bent down to her level, "Now, Emblym, that is exactly how you are not to react. Remember your exercises, in, count to ten, out. Breathing is the first step, then it's thinking it out."
The voices screamed at the woman, demanding her head, and for once, she listened. Emblym managing to get a hand free. She used her knife to cut through the fabric of the cloth and it sliced like butter. Her hand plunged into the woman's gut, causing blood to spurt out of her stomach. Emblym tried to move it, and cut we throat, she just wanted to see the blood, she need to see the blood.
The man gripped her hand, making her drop the knife. He called for more help as he pushed a needle into her throat, sedating Emblym. More men and women ran in, one with a first-aid kit, tending to Janice's knife wound. Emblym felt the strength run out of her body as the sedative took hold of her, but she managed to laugh. She cackled as the woman was taken out of the room, hands pressed to the wound. Emblym laughed long as hard until her eyes finally shut.
•️️️️•
Emblym wasn't allowed to see her psychiatrist anymore. She wasn't allowed to see anyone, really. She sat on her bed, the white jacket that bounded her arms made them ache, but she didn't care. The voices did this to her, they turned her into this mad monster, and she hated it. She threw fits, screaming and crying in her room, demanding that someone would take them out — take her out. Kill her, so she could rid herself of the voices that invaded her mind.
But nobody came, not for four years. She was fed of course — someone came in to feed her while she was locked on the bed. They didn't trust her to move with someone else in the room, not after the shrink incident.
Emblym twisted and turned on her worn mattress. She hadn't slept, not since she could remember. The voices just loved to talk, as they talked for hours — days, even — and allowed her no rest. Emblym had gotten used to it, just listening as a few bickered back and forth, or while they screamed and she was forced to endure the pain.
Emblym laid there, her thoughts wandering to her last days with her parents. They yelled at her. They were so disappointed, who would've thought that their beloved daughter could become a murderer. She was quite the burden to them now, and even bet that they had erased their lives of her.
The door opened and Emblym didn't even look up. They were early for her dinner, was something going on? "You have a visitor," The woman told Emblym, perking her interests.
"Is today April first?" Emblym inquired, staring at the ceiling.
The woman let out a scoff, "I wish it were a joke too. Get up."
•️️️️•
Emblym was led by the woman and two men to the visiting area. Her arms stayed in the straitjacket, and then she was locked to the chair. Emblym gave the man a smile, causing him to glare at her in discomfort as he hurry to finish locking it, and then walked away.
A guard stood by the door, as the man left, and then held it open as a man walked in. He had wildly curly red hair with a black top hat with a red ribbon. His face was tanned, and his lips pressed in smile. He wore a pristine suit, which somehow seemed wrong with the way his hair was kept. He sat across the table and another guard entered. The who held the door open say the other guard and nodded as he left. The new guard closed the door.
It was silent for a minute, but Emblym allowed a smirk to stretch across her dark features. "I suppose I am supposed to ask why I'm here?" Emblym began, her California accent hinting in her voice.
"That's usually what they say, yes," the red-haired man agreed.
"Okay. Why are you here wasting my time?" Her voice was dripping with annoyance, she didn't usually take kindly to strangers.
"My name is Hatter," he began. "I am from Eastern Europe in a small country called Wonderland."
"Oh, how exotic."
"It was. Until a terrible civil war erupted between our country stemming from two rivaling sisters, the Red Queen, and the White Queen." At the mention of the name, the voices hissed, and Emblym winced in pain. "My apologies," he said, as if he knew the voices were causing her harm. She rolled her eyes, annoyed.
"That's quite the sob story, however, I do not think I see why this involves me."
"The Red Queen took me and a few of my comrades as hostage," he explained. "The White Queen responded with a time loop — keeping the entire land in a perpetual war, never to end, at least until we were returned to her. Then, the Red Queen casted a curse, sending out her soul and us outside the time loop. Her soul would inhabit the bodies of humans, collecting their souls until their death, before carrying on. She made this continue until the Red-human slayed the White Queen, and thus ending the time loop."
Hatter paused for a moment, letting that sink in. Emblym blinked, unamused. "Well, that is quite the interesting — and honestly complicated — bedtime story. I still don't see why you would waste my time with it, though..."
"Miss Emblym, you are a Red-human," Hatter explained. "All those voices you hear in your head, that's from her, the Red Queen. You are the one that is to slay the White Queen and free Wonderland."
Emblym snorted at his last words, before laughing. She cackled for nearly five minutes, her sides hurting, as she laughed. A some of the voices joined in, laughing with her, saying, "Hatter truly is mad." A few were surprised that he was still circulating, trying to to find a Red Queen. Most of them, however, were sad. Sobbing at the sight of the man, or solemnly quiet in honour of him. A couple argued with the ones that mocked him, only leaving her head aching in response.
Finally, Emblym recomposed herself, and looked at the man. He was silent, and even patient to an extent. Once she finished, he began speaking again. "We need you to come with us so we can help you defeat the White Queen."
Emblym began chuckling again, by was able to speak this time, "You truly do not believe that I am the one to do this, do you?" She asked, disbelief edging her voice, "Because that's absurd."
"I personally believe as much as six impossible things before breakfast, Miss Emblym," Hatter responded. Then, they all reacted, a mix of nostalgia and sadness grew, within the voices as they all tried to reach out to the man, begging for him to come, a begging for him to leave.
Emblym angrily glared at the man, due to the overflow of mixed emotions, all too much to process. "I do not know who you are but I am not your bloody queen!" Emblym hissed, "Stay away from me."
"Miss Emblym, I understand that you might be upset, but time is of the essence, and—"
"Leave!" Emblym screamed, "Go away!" When he man didn't move, Emblym lashed out. She lunged at the man, despite her chains. Her knife materialized in her hands and she cut through the fabric of her straitjacket, leaving only undergarments.
With her arms free, she jumped at him, kicking out of her chair to cut his throat open. Emblym wondered what the blood of a madman would look like. She bet that it was delicious.
The man whipped his hat off and placed it on her head. Emblym was stuck in space, her body frozen above the table. Emblym stared at the man, willing her body to move, but nothing happened. Emblym could only stare in shock as the straitjacket came bade around her body and the chains redone.
Hatter reached over and grabbed his his hat off her head, smiling. "As I was saying, time is of the essence, and we need your assistance."
Emblym opened her mouth to scream, hoping to draw someone in from outside, or even the guard at the door, but neither he moved nor did she scream. Fluffy, soft blue paws covered her mouth, muffling the sound before she was able to.
"Cheshire, I said that we are to allow her to react as she pleases," Hatter said, giving an annoyed glance above Emblym. She managed to look up. A floating blue cat laid above her, speaking with Hatter.
"Yes, but when they scream it gives me the worse of headaches," the cat responded in a mild tone voice and in what sounded like a London accent. "You won't scream now, will you?" Emblym realized that it was talking to her, it's face looking down, and it's mouth twisted into a smile, showing all its sharp canine teeth.
Emblym glared, yanking her head away from the cat, but she didn't scream. "I hate to sound cliché, but you truly are our last hope or else our home will be destroyed forever."
Emblym allowed his words to sink in. He could really need her help, she considered,
Or, he could be just as mad as she was. She had never heard of a country called Wonderland, and if they've been at war for some time now, she would surely know — it's have to be on some news outlet! If there was a war, then he could be setting her up for a suicide mission! This could all be a set up — a ploy to finally kill end her.
Emblym glared at the man, "Go to hell. I don't care what you need me for, I don't want to see you again, either of you!" Hatter searched her face for anything other than malice — doubt, reluctance, fear, even — but no. The only thing she held in her heart was pent-up anger and resentment, which she was taking out at him.
Hatter sighed, standing from the table. "If that is what you wish," he spoke, and turned to leave. The guard in the room had turned behind him as well, strangely following the man as he left.
Cheshire chucked, "Well, you certainly didn't make friends."
"And I certainly didn't need them," Emblym huffed. "Go away, cat."
"As you wish, my queen," he said, emphasizing the last part before disappearing into nonexistence.
•️️️️•
Emblym laid on the bed, listening to the voices who were angrily taking or sobbing in her head. She hated it. "Shut up!" She hissed at the voices.
"How rude," a voice purred behind her. "I haven't even begun speaking yet." Emblym turned to see the floating cat again.
"What do you want, cat?" Emblym growled, "I already told you that—"
"I wasn't going to talk about Hatter's proposal," Cheshire interrupted. "I simply wanted to know if you were any good at baking pumpkin tarts."
"What?" Emblym stared, confused. A few, however, began to laugh, others becoming burdened by the pain of yet another unwanted memory.
"A pumpkin tart? One of the previous queens knew how to make it and I was certainly craving more." He repeated himself, turning around as he floated in air. "Don't you think you can figure out how to make some? I'm sure with the right supplies—"
"I am not going to bake you treats," Emblym said, her eyes narrowed. "You'd have an easier time convincing me that I'm your queen than getting me to do that."
"Well, it was a simple request," Cheshire sighed. "I can remember how it tastes too. Maybe we both can reminisce about the tarts. I would even venture out and tell you how to get rid of those awful voices plaguing you pubescent mind, but, I suppose no. Oh well." Emblym sat up as the cat turned to leave.
"You know how to make them leave!?" She asked, her eyes wide. "Tell me!"
"Now here I thought you wanted nothing to do with us," Cheshire purred.
"I'll hear you guys out, just tell me how to get rid of them!" The voices were stirring with her sudden desperation, a few yelling at her again, demanding blood to be shed.
"I suppose I could, for a higher price, of course."
"What do you want?" Emblym demanded, but she was beginning to get nervous, she didn't have much to bargain. "Tell me, I'll get it."
"I am sure you can give me what I want — it's a matter of if you will or won't."
"Tell me what it is."
"You give me your word that you will come with us, and I'll tell you."
"Deal," Emblym said hastily, wanting nothing more than to rid herself of the voices in her head.
"Now do calm down," The cat said nonchalantly. "I didn't ask for a deal — I asked for your word." Cheshire tsked her, "To give away your word is a very powerful thing, little Emblym. I will hold to it if you don't keep your word. You will train with us, slay the White Queen, and in exchange, I tell you how to get rid of the other Red Queens."
"Okay, I agree. I give you my word," Emblym said, "Tell me how."
"That's simple," The cat's smile seemed to grow. "The curse is connected to the White Queen. If you slay her, then the voices go free."
"That's it?"
"Yes, as I said, ever-so simple."
"Then take me to her," Emblym demanded, "I'll slay the white bitch, if it means getting rid of the voices!"
"Now now, I believe you have forgotten the second part of our deal," Cheshire's smile grew. "Do mind your step." The room began to swirl with a foggy purplish-blue as Cheshire began to chuckle darkly. The room began to fade out of existence, leaving only Cheshire's eyes and mouth visible in the fog.
