Clipping down a gray stone hall, the black card doctor scowled. Why did he have to go report to cursed Jabberwocky? Why?
He glanced down at his throbbing hand, wrapped in gauze, and cursed. Psycho bunny nearly bit his fingers off! Darn it!
Regaining his scattered nerves, he glanced at the double doors that led into his master's study. He swallowed his hesitation and knocked once.
From inside, an audible scowl, "Come in."
The doctor opened the door and entered, taking his helmet off in angry respect.
The Jabberwock's study was large and drafty, shadows collecting like mobs in the corners. Bookcases filled with dark manuscripts lay against the wall. A desk on a raised dais at the opposite end of the room, covered in reports, papers, a few war 'trophies', and odd tidbits. But the chair behind the desk was empty.
The doctor glanced around, at attention and alert, and he then saw his master.
Jabberwocky had traded out his armor for a loose fitting outfit of livery colored, of course, black. His yellow eyes gazed at his own broken image in a gilded mirror, narrowing as he scrutinized his appearance. Turning finally with a sigh, Jabberwock glared at the seven of diamonds, black red-tinted hair whispering round his ears, is midnight black skin allowing no glare of light to reflect off his body. "What are the reports?"
Saluting quickly, the card prayed silently as he reported, "Generals Hatter and March have gone missing, sir. Same as the ace in the group you left with them."
Jabberwock paused, eyes changing to a white, which the doctor knew meant that he couldn't lie to save his life now without being detected. Hands straying to rest upon his sword's hilt, Jabberwock took a step forward, no emotion crossing his face, "They've abandoned?"
"No, sire… The rest of the regiment found signs of a struggle and we think that Cheshire and his rebels have-"
Jabberwock held up a clawed hand, beckoning forth silence, "And this is in the forest?"
"By the sheep's cottage, your highness. And we've found-"
"Remains? I expected that." Jabberwocky circled the doctor, who began to sweat profusely.
The doctor gulped, forcing himself not to think of anything but the report, "Sire, if I may?"
"Yes?"
"The Black Sheep was the only one killed. No trace of the white one. But… the Black Sheep… Frankly, all that was left of her was blood."
Smirking, Jabberwock regarded him with cold, unfeeling eyes, "That would be them. And whoever ate her probably got terribly sick afterwards if he ate all of her."
"There was vomit, sire."
"Thought there'd be…" Jabberwock stopped his pacing, stationed behind the shivering card. Silently bringing a hand up and placing it on his soldier's shoulder, he let a small smile creep onto his black lips as the card stiffened, "Are you afraid?"
The doctor gulped, hesitating, then lied blatantly, "No, sire."
Seeing the lies as a puff of sparkling diamonds, Jabberwocky sneered. He gripped his underling's shoulder tight as he pulled his long, thin sword out from its brown sheath. Placing the tip of the blade at the nape of the card's neck, he felt the man's muscles tense.
"S-s-sire? What are you doing?"
Jabberwock's eyes were slits of white as he asked, "Do you trust me?"
"Sir?"
"DO YOU TRUST ME?"
Breath coming fast, worry permeating his being, the card soldier swallowed, drying out his mouth, "I-I trust you, sire."
Jabberwock sighted the new lie and growled, satisfied. Without warning, he viciously stabbed his sword forward through his underling's spine and neck. Eyes rolling ceiling-ward in a last thought, the doctor slumped forward, sliding off Jabberwock's blade with a bloody curdling groan. Jabberwock flourished his red sword, smiling wolfishly. His eyes returned to a horrid yellow, twinkling morbidly.
Now… for the Hatter and March business…
Jabberwock narrowed his eyes, pondering how long it would take to organize his army for an assault on the rebels HQ on the Crystal Coast. That was where Alice would most likely be, as well as March and Hatter…
Oh… he smirked… Oh, he knew where the Imagineer's base was… Their leaders, systems, but he had never had a reason to attack them. Actually, he enjoyed the little skirmishes that had spanned for quite a few years back now, and he didn't want to crush those Imagineers all at once. What fun would that be?
But he had to get Alice. That was one person he couldn't let get away.
Plus, Hatter and March were generals that he needed. They might like the loneliness of assassins, but, if need be, he could make them trade in their lithe armor for the dressings of top generals. And, as true Wonderlanders, they had excellent strategies, not to mention commanding skills and expert fighting skills!
Scowling, he reminded himself of those cursed 'trials' that the rebels held. He'd have to act quickly if he didn't want March's and Hatter's executions carried out.
He was sure that the Imagineers would sentence them to death…
Or, as the former queen would have put it:
"OFF WITH THEIR HEADS!"