Wow! QUICKEST update in the history of ALICE! (Though I've been working on this one for a while).
Well,
This is it.
All is revealed. (The main stuff, anyway)
*GASP*
Disclaimer: I do not own anything but the satisfaction of presenting this chapter to YOU!
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A ferocious snarl ripped out from Victoria's chest, her face twisted into darkness as she bared her teeth at Alice in an animalistic fashion. With such a maneuverer, it was now hard to tell the difference between the army of cats and their leader; they blended beyond recognition. She leaned toward her intended prey, stunning Alice into silence at such a transformation. Gone was the muted, repetitive calm that defined Victoria's presence, her collected eeriness nothing in comparison to the frosting rage that had overpowered her now. Alice could do nothing but stumble backwards, her mind racing frantically to collect some sort of savior.
Alice continued to back away, her hands behind her as she touched everything she past – tables, chairs, candlesticks, tapestries – she felt for anything that may rival the strength of her sudden enemies – anything she could use. She found nothing. All were mundane, everyday items that might be used to fight off the odd drunk. But not these people. Victoria stalked toward her, followed by her entourage of cats, growling at Alice and flexing their claws till their prey was paralyzed by fear. Alice could go no further back; her back hitting the carpet-covered wall. She swallowed hard; hoping death would come swiftly and softly. Victoria smiled.
"The time has come, Alice," Victoria informed her dutifully, "you have managed to avoid this meeting for quite some time; but I could no longer delay – I am impatient and restless."
Victoria stared at the girl, watching her as if she were making sure Alice was truly paying attention, only releasing the stare when she was properly satisfied. She took another step toward Alice, her eyes hungry not for blood, but the power that would follow the shedding of it. She was no natural killer, Alice realized with a jolt of hope. She was ambitious and ruthless, but she was no killer – not for the thrill of it, anyway. Alice's mind searched for possibilities, her hope building as she dared to dream she may be spared by this barbaric woman. Her hopes declined a little, though, as she saw a devious smile spread across her executer's face.
"I have looked forward to this for quite some time, Alice," she crooned at her, her smile lingering, "all my life, actually. Your death will be my birth – a life for a life; that is how I see it." She searched Alice's face, somehow miraculously managing to find the hint of hope Alice had allowed herself to believe, then taking the opportunity the squash it like a bug. She spoke again, her voice ringing nothing but truth. "I keep no guilt, Alice, whatever you think I won't do to you, I assure you; I will do it. Just rest assured your death will be productive; your death will assure my rulership over a better Wonderland. And knowing you are gone for good, will allow my to sleep a little easier tonight, so thank you for that, too."
Alice couldn't help herself - the calm, authoritative tone in Victoria's voice she had so easily claimed back after such a display, her heartless killing spree, her supposed vision of a 'better' Wonderland – it all intensified the hatred dripping over Alice's words and thoughts.
"A better Wonderland? A better Wonderland? What a wonderful place you will evolve it into! You disease your subjects, you kill innocent children, you claim your power to be your highest asset! You are a tyrant, and yet you speak to me as if I have a choice in the matter! So, why don't you just get on to it before I die from hearing of all of your 'plans' and 'aspirations.' Go on," Alice spat at Victoria's face, "why don't you just kill me already?!"
Victoria kept a perfectly straight, controlled face. Her lips were in a grim line as she watched Alice order for her own death, sizing her up and evaluating her constantly, wondering if she should deliver the girl what she wants.
"You are surrounded, Alice," she told her, though the fact was quite obvious to Alice, "and my cats are hungry. But I will not feed you to them, because I admire your determination, though I would never apply it in my own rule. As a gift, I will give you your death, and you will be honored at receiving it."
"Will I?" Alice asked sarcastically, unable to believe a word the woman was saying.
"Yes," Victoria ignored the irony in Alice's voice, "you will," she informed her calmly. "Because you will be the first ever to suffer at the hands of the disease – improved." She unveiled Alice's death rather excitedly, as if Alice should truly be honored at the gift. The awe seeped into her voice as soon as the disease was mentioned, and she felt compelled to deliver the sentence with a certain kind of...explanation.
"There was a time, at one stage, when I was actually proud of my creation. The disease to me had been the ultimate – death no longer wasted, but used to deliver power into the waiting hands of it's creator. My disease and the cats it brought me had been a blessing, and it took years to perfect. However, just recently, I had grown restless with my weapon. It worked, yes, but I wanted something better, something stronger, something more...powerful. I wanted to evolve the disease into something that could never be rivaled – for the rest of eternity-"
At this Alice quirked up an eyebrow. The move did not escape Victoria's notice.
"Ambitious, yes," Victoria conceded somewhat sheepishly, "but nothing is impossible. I wanted Wonderland under my rule to experience and witness power like it has never seen before. And I wanted it to be in history books for centuries to come. So I got to work. It took me days, Miss Alice, days to find the answer," she told her triumphantly, "and here it is; the new disease. Mind you, it would have been far more impressive had not that fickle old Queen stolen the transformation potion I was going to put in it. Allow me to explain this disease, then you yourself can see it in action like no other before you."
Alice could do nothing but nod helplessly, shivering slightly at the thought of what was to come.
"It starts out very much like the old disease; pain, shivering, evolving – you know, procedure – but then, it takes a drastic turn. The pain is so indescribable, it numbs the mind till the victim's system shuts down. It takes out all physical movement first; leaving you numb and defenseless, then it goes to work on the brain. It wipes it all. The cats you see before you hold subconscious memories, thoughts, and feelings in their mind. In a sense, they are still whoever they were before I got to them, all the old disease did was take away their ability to process and recognize these thoughts. Not so with my new creation – it will wipe away every essence of Alice that is in your head, in your body, in your soul. You will be an empty shell; a vacant house, that is, till I move in and take over you – then you will be completely obedient. You will be perfect. Imagine that, Alice, you will be perfect to me."
Alice was now staring at Victoria in horror. For the first time her curiosity vanished, leaving Alice wishing to hear no more.
"As to your physical appearance, if you wanted to know, these cats in front of you will be nothing in comparison. They are strong, yes. They are frightening, yes. But you – you will be the dawn of a new era. Under my reign, there will be cats like no other. Your kind will eat off the victims of the old disease – so if it makes you happy, you will soon enough have your revenge on these cats behind me now – and you will be the new race. Monsters. You will be monsters. Your shaping body will first look like a cat, then it will explode into the body of a creature of the night. You will be feared like no other thing before you – no other thing after you. This I promise you."
"No," Alice choked out, her future twisting into visions of nothing but misery, "please – feed me to the cats, please – no!" Alice pleaded. "Death I could take, but to be in subjection to you!"
Victoria only smiled, skepticism marking her words. "And the Queen of hearts thought you would become a Queen. She thought you could fill the role. If only she could see you now – begging for your life like a selfish little girl. I am doing Wonderland a favor by knocking you out of the way, remember that. Oh! - If only the Queen could see you know, what a pitiful child you have grown up to be!"
"I can see her."
Victoria froze instantly. Her superior grin dropped from her features as they turned into confusion, then to disbelief, to exasperation. Torn on the edge of hysteria, Victoria began to roar with laughter, her eyes almost crazed. "Really!" She cried out hysterically, "what must one do to get rid of you? Must I drown you, then stab you, then burn you, then squash the ashes, then send those particles down the river, collect them and then bury what is left?!"
Alice payed no attention to her, only continued to stare numbly at the older figure in the doorway. No, it couldn't be...
Victoria now turned around to face the older woman, the sickly smile still plastered on her face, while the Queen of Hearts' figure was now coming towards them with unusual grace, for such an ancient-looking woman.
"I don't believe you were invited, your majesty," Victoria spat out the word with mock humility.
"And I don't believe it really matters, Victoria," the familiar voice rang through Alice's ears.
"No," Alice murmured to herself out of sheer disbelief, "it can't be."
The Queen, now only a few steps away, gave Alice a hardened look. "Don't look so surprised, child. And close that gaping mouth of yours – it's most unattractive," she lectured her in a disapproving tone. The fact that Alice was mere seconds away from death didn't seem to bother her too much.
Victoria, already impatient with the unexpected visit, cut in hastily: "Yes, well, this reunion has been lovely, but I really must finish what I came here to do. Besides, I have other things to attend to after this; namely, killing you once I'm done with the little wrench of a girl." With an impatient snarl, she snapped out a glass flask from somewhere within the ample folds of her dress and removed the cork lid. Black haze seemed to usher itself out – far more than the flask seemed at first able to contain – and was guided to Alice's vicinity. Alice struggled to find away to escape the mist now surrounding her head, and ending up giving up on breathing altogether. It is a hard thing to do, and eventually she was forced by instinct to take a sharp breath. Black haze gratefully entered her soul. Already having masked herself, and watching the display with great pleasure, Victoria ordered to the cats: "Now, kill the Queen!"
But a booming voice came from the end of the hall, halting the cat's movements. "Wait! Allow me, your Majesty!"
All three turned in shock, (a hard thing for Alice to do as her eyelids were already growing dreadfully heavy) to see yet another member to join the unlikely party. It was only Victoria who looked please upon seeing who it was.
"Why, Abaddon!" She cried in delight, gesturing him to come quickly. "I do believe you are quite right; I owe you a kill, don't I? Please, go ahead then and enjoy yourself, noble warrior." She clicked her fingers at the cats, making them shrink back from the old Queen.
He nodded at her solemnly, and sauntered up to to the small, for lack of a better word, party. He had his finest battle apparel on; a thick red cloak and a glassy breastplate. For once he was not smiling, as he drew his long, thin sword; instead his lips were pressed into a grim line. "As the lady wishes, I shall kill the Queen." And quicker than anyone could react, he pierced his sword through Victoria's heart, causing a ripple of red blood to seep out from her velvet layers. Victoria looked down in shock at the sword still in her body, then up at Abaddon. A small, weak smile spread over her lips.
"My, my Abaddon; you are the destroyer, aren't you?" Her breath wheezed as she struggled to stay on her feet.
"Yes, ma'am. And now I have destroyed you," he told her, every particle of his body radiating the grimness in the air. He kept the sword in her, and the last thing Alice saw before she blacked out was the narrow point of the sword coming out of Victoria's back.
"Ha!" Victoria tried to make her voice strong, but the red pool around her ankles was growing bigger, and her vision was blurring, "it will take more than my death to stop my power reaching Wonderland. You may have won this battle, but the war is far from over!"
Angered, he withdrew his sword from her flesh (causing Victoria to struggle with pain) and stabbed her again in the gut. Now she crumpled to her knees, a few last wheezes and an unearthly chuckle escaping her lips before the life fully drained out of her. She lay, quite dead, as her robes and hair were painted red with her own blood.
"And we're painting the roses red," Abaddon whispered to himself. He looked up finally, expecting the cats just as he saw them. They were there; but lying asleep on the ground, steady breath passing in and out between their jaws. A yellow mist had entered the room, just as he had planned it. The last of the cats breathed it in and fell asleep instantly.
"Well done, Abaddon," the Queen of Hearts strolled over to him and put a firm hand on his broad shoulder. She could see the hatred in his eyes as he stared down at his blood-stained sword. Carefully, he slid it back into it's holster on his hip. "I see the sleeping potion in that flask worked. Look at them; sleeping like little children."
"Thank you," he murmured, "I had been worried she would move your 'ashes' from her room to another part of the castle. You know the sleeping mist would not have covered the entire castle had the flask not stayed there. We were lucky, ma'am."
"I'm glad I used the right recipe to create it; otherwise we would all be dozing off," she added with a small chuckle.
She smiled at him, wrinkles deepening as they covered her face like twisting paths. She took her hand off his shoulder and took his hand in hers. Her face beamed at him, pride oozing. "I am proud of you, my son."
He didn't respond immediately, only looked over to where Alice lay slumped against the wall, her complexion quite green. "Thank you, mother," was his final reply before the sound of clumsy running scampered its way into the room. There was panting breath till it caught the sight of Alice. A deadly gasp escaped the additional pair of lips.
"Oh no! Alice!" The Hatter cried, stumbling his way over to her pale body. He turned to the two onlookers, his face clouded with fury and tears. "Why couldn't you stop this? She is going to die, thanks to you!" He bent over Alice, hiding his face in her neck and crying bitterly. He cursed those average onlookers – couldn't they see she needed help? What had they been doing this whole time – drinking tea as Alice lay waiting for death to come?
"Calm yourself, Hatter," the Queen ordered superiorly, "she will come around soon enough."
The Hatter's head popped up, tears still falling. He failed to notice the way she knew who he was. "She will come around soon enough? She will come around soon enough? She has been struck with the disease! SHE IS GOING TO DIE!"
The Queen rolled her eyes, "I said calm yourself. She is not going to die; she has an immunity to the disease. Why do you think I kept feeding her little bits at a time? For fun? She will be unwell and weak for a few days; as Victoria let it out on her on full-force, but she will pull through."
At this Hatter seemed to finally realize who he was talking to. He stood up rather guiltily, as if he did not want to leave Alice's side for more than a second. He stared at this old woman and young, handsome warrior. "It's...It's you? It's you? You – the poor old woman? You were there all along, your Majesty?"
She smiled tiredly at him, thankful he finally understood after all this time. "I have been taking great care of you and your friend, Mr. Hatter. As has my son – Abaddon."
Hatter's gaze drifted from her to her tall, black-haired son. He was well built, though a little imposing in physique, also in the way he seemed to frown at the Hatter – his handsome face crumpling as if the top-hatted man was somehow distasteful to him. Hatter smiled timidly at him, not quite wanting to get any closer to him or his blood-stained sword. "Thank you," was all he could say, not sure though of what exactly he was thanking him for. Heck, with a glare like that why should he be thanking him?
But Abaddon did not notice the Hatter's small greeting, or the bewildered look on his face, as his eyes were steadily fixed on the girl now groaning slightly on the floor. She frowned as if something seemed had pained her, though her eyes remained closed. There was a thin layer a sweat on her brow as she frowned. A small, pained gasp escaped her lips and her head rolled around as if she were caught out at sea.
"Come," he addressed them, "we better get Alice out of here so she can heal better. She does not look good." Sick like that, he amended in his head.
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They had walked in and out of the castle corridors freely; as the cats were sleeping, and as the Queen explained to them, would remain so for as long as they wanted. Additional guards, upon hearing the news of Victoria's death either fled or begged forgiveness. Alice was carried on a stretcher; her body swaying as she was carried through the rooms.
"We can bring her to Hare's house; she already has a bed set up for her there," Hatter told them anxiously, unwilling to let go of Alice's dead hand as they walked.
Abaddon rolled his eyes, but whether it was at the suggestion or the sight of the Hatter holding Alice's hand, one could not tell. Perhaps it was both. "No," he told him, his voice holding the same superior tone as his mother's, "that will not do. There are plenty of rooms here in the castle that are stocked with the appropriate medical equipment. We will look after her better here in the castle."
Hatter shook his head, stubborn as ever. "Absolutely not – I'm not letting Alice out of my sight. Besides, how can I even trust you?"
Once again Abaddon rolled his eyes skyward, making a heavy sighing sound. "If that's the way you feel about it, then consider the castle your home until Alice is well again. That way you stay with her and she can receive every proper medical attention she needs."
The Hatter refused, even though he knew it was the best option. Perhaps he just liked arguing with this fellow, even though he did not like him all too much. There was something about the way this tall, black-haired man said Alice's name that he did not like...
"Look," the Queen cut in, impatient with all Abaddon's bickering and the Hatter's blind stubbornness, "she is staying here, and that's an order."
Hatter whimpered slightly, though eventually nodded.
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Alice woke up feeling, well, like she had been trampled on by a herd of elephants. Her eyelids opened sleepily, yet painfully, and her breathing was something more like croaks. The pain had been awful, she felt like throwing up but felt she lacked the strength to even for that. Black spots still blackened her vision as she looked up, and her arms and legs felt as though every bone had been pulled out of it's sockets and disconnected. But all in all, she couldn't complain – after all, she was alive, wasn't she?
She listened to the sound of her wheezy breathing, then with a jolt realized hers wasn't the only breathing in the room. For a moment, she panicked. Surely Victoria had been killed, hadn't she? Why, she saw the blade go in herself! She tried to see past the blackness, hoping it wasn't Victoria standing over her.
"Alice?" A distinctively female voice sounded. Alice squeezed her eyes shut; no, no, no; it couldn't be Victoria. Then she realized; she knew that old voice. A sigh of relief escaped her lips, making the older woman chuckle.
"It's okay, Alice," the voice was strong yet kind, "it's only me."
Alice opened her eyes again, and could see the Queen of Hearts leaning over her, holding her hand in her own. To Alice's satisfaction, the black spots were clearing.
"You can see me now?" The Queen asked hesitantly.
"Perfectly," Alice's voice sounded hoarse, even to herself. She tried to clear it, all to no avail. The Queen chuckled again.
"Alice?" She began softly.
"Yes?" Alice gazed up at her.
"I need to ask you something that is very important. In fact, I don't think I can stress it's importance enough."
Alice was startled. She tried to sit up, but the Queen pushed her down.
"No need for that, dear. You just have to listen then give me a yes or a no. But let me warn you; once you have decided there is no turning back."
Alice frowned, worried. "What-what do you mean?" Once again she tried to get up, only to be pushed back down again.
The Queen sighed. It was the kind of sigh you could hear a history behind; the tiredness, the anger, the failure, and the story of the Queen all tumbled out into the air with that one sigh. Alice waited patiently, and you could have even heard a pin drop as she waited. Finally, after what seemed years, the Queen spoke.
"I am old, Alice. I am sure I did not have to tell you that; you would have realized it already. Why, I believe even dust collects in my wrinkles, and my body is almost useless. I have served as Queen over my people for longer than I can remember – and yet I can still remember the sights and smells of my first years on the throne. My time is running, out Alice, and though I hate to say it, I will very soon die. It is sooner than you think Alice; if you were my age you would understand the feeling. I can almost feel death in me, and it won't be long before that feeling turns to reality. My son, Abaddon, refuses the family crown."
At this Alice's mouth hung open. "Can...can he even do that?"
The Queen looked forlorn, as if talking of her son's future grieved her beyond words. "He most certainly can. He has refused rulership ever since he was a little boy, and no matter how hard I try, he will not accept it. So, you see that I am left with a problem."
Alice blanched as she realized the intent behind the Queen's words. "Problem?" She tried to look nonchalant.
"Yes," the Queen sighed, not fooled by Alice's games, "I have a very big problem. When I die, Wonderland will be without ruler. I need you to take the throne. Well, Alice?"
Alice stared at her. "No."
"No?"
"No."
The Queen seemed puzzled by this slightly. She opened her mouth a few times without any sound coming out. She finally found the words, though. "This...is not what I expected."
Alice had to choke back a hysterical laugh. Surely this wasn't really happening, was it? "Me neither!" She put out with a grin.
"Hmph," the Queen muttered, still thinking Alice's answer through. "Well, may I suggest you give a little more thought to it. You call me when you have made your final decision." With a swift movement, a little too swift for someone of her age, she had made her way out of the room, leaving Alice alone with her thoughts.
And what thoughts they were, too! They bounded along the inside of her head like a pinball machine! Her emotions were running through her veins, pulsing and pushing, ready at any point to spill over into hysteria. She took a few deep breaths to steady herself.
So Alice thought, and she thought hard. She considered very detail and every possibility, but every time she came around to the point of making a decision, her mind still said 'no.' And what did she have to base her decision on, anyway? It hardly felt like she had a choice, and yet the idea was so absurd, so child-like, it seemed impossible in every particular. Chastising herself had grieved her, and made her feel guilty, yet her answer was still denial – how she wished someone could make the decision for her. She went round and round in circles, till eventually she gave up on it. Time passed as she stared at the ceiling above her, slow feelings of strength returning as time passed. She had no idea how long she had been there; merely staring at the elegant carving above her. It felt like days. Gently, a mild knock was tapped against the door, obstructing her attention. The door was pushed open slowly, revealing the man that made her want to scream.
A desperate choke sounded in her chest, her immediate thoughts being that of approaching death. It was silly, but the sight of him simply spelled warrior – a fact she found hard to simply dismiss, especially considering she owed a good deal of her own life to him.
"You're – you're-" Alice trailed off, her mind not quite able to place the name, or connection. All she could see was the warrior, and the death that followed the assumption.
"Abaddon," flatly he supplied his name. He stared at her straight faced, not moving from his position in the doorway.
"And you're the Queen's son? You're the Prince?" Though the words may have been a statement, she was unsure of herself. A few seconds ticked by, while she waited for him to give any sign of response.
"I am not," he told her firmly, almost angrily, "I am not the Prince, nor will I ever be. You will never tell me I am the Prince again, do you understand me?"
"But-"
"No," he was definite, "No. I have never wished for the crown – but I have come here to urge you to accept it," he watched her intently, searching her blanched face for something – anything.
"No, I will not," she told him, unable to meet the disappointment in his eyes.
"Then I will persuade you," he promised her. In a startling quick movement he abandoned his post by the door and sat down on the chair next to her bed. He gazed down at her, as if reproving his own wronged child. "You don't understand; it is vital you accept the crown. This isn't just a matter of walking in and taking a Kingdom over; there is a war – a war we intend to win."
"A war? And who in their right mind would appoint me to lead when there is something as drastic as a war going on?" Alice cried defiantly at him, panic settling in.
He frowned down at her. "Alice, you know that none of us are in our right minds here. But that also includes you," to this Alice shook her head stubbornly, "You are needed Alice. It may not make sense to you – not yet – but we know what we're doing; we know what we are asking of you."
"No," Alice shook her head, desperate to find some way to ward off the reason he was bestowing upon her, "you don't."
"Alice," Abbadon's eyes blazed with black fire, taking her shoulder with a firm grip as he stared down at her, emphasizing each word, "I made the mistake of rejecting and abandoning Wonderland when it needed me, Alice. I suffered the consequences of that foolish action. Now, I cannot take up that rule – my chance has gone, even now when I would be willing to help. I rejected the rule when I was very young, Alice; I was cruel and selfish. Don't make the same mistake I did. My life now is nothing but guilt, and it burns me. I don't want you to live like that. Think about it, Alice; I know you will make the right choice."
In one swift movement he was out of the chair, releasing Alice with such force she fell back onto the pillow, bewildered by his actions. He waltzed out the door, either not bothering or unwilling to glance back at her. The door slammed shut, as if he were in a hurry to escape her.
Alice lay back, unsure of what to make of the brief conversation, let alone the man she had shared it with. Once again, staring at the ceiling above her, Alice was now sure of two things;
The first was that she would recover; already she felt the disease drain from her, and she would be fit and well again. She yearned for that time.
The second; she had made her decision.
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I hope you guys liked this chapter! I have spent a while touching it up and adding to it, so I hope it managed to deliver! Yet, there is still more to come...(dun dun dun)
Send in those reviews! I need to know what you thought! Don't leave me hanging! Were your theories close? (Or a little way off....... ) tee hee