Alice and What Came After: Between the Glass
Disclaimer: If it seems familiar, it's not mine.
WARNING: If you're squeamish or upset by violence, you might want to skip two sections. One is part of Connor's and the other is Damon's second section. They are of a gory, twisted nature. There's a recap at the bottom.
Chapter Twenty-two: Violent Impulses
His left hand tingled.
Connor continued to scream as both prods touched him mere seconds apart. His body thrashed from the electric shock and his own struggles. His dark hair stood at odd angles, frazzled and spiky thanks to the voltage surging inside his body.
"Perhaps a few more volts will loosen his tongue, brother dear," Dr. Dee suggested to Dr. Dum in an even, bored tone.
"If he even has a tongue to be loosened, then a few volts will surely loosen it."
His good hand twitched on the chair arm. He could feel the magic surging underneath his skin. The Hatter Hammer.
The twins played with the dials on their cattle prods. Electricity hummed in the air.
Connor closed his eyes, trying to focus his energy and rage into breaking free. Legend said his father had done it before, as well as shattered Mad March's head in one blow. Rage fueled by Madness and channeled into magic had a power unmatched by modern inventions.
They wanted my dad dead. They want to kill me. They're sick killers. They will kill me without a flicker of remorse.
The strap securing his wrist creaked.
One of the prods struck him in the back, near his spine. Connor couldn't help but cry out.
"The King says you have something to tell us, young Hatter. Why are you here?"
"No one walks into a trap willingly without a reason," the other doctor agreed. "Unless their plan was a trap within a trap."
Another prod struck him. He gritted his teeth.
"But the outcome would still be a trap."
"I think we need a new tactic."
The brothers conferred for a moment. Then the room grew dark.
Then the lights flickered back on, albeit at a dim setting, the twins were no longer alone. There was a fourth person in the Truth Room. Connor's heart skipped a good three beats.
Sitting across from him, tied down much like he was, was Sarah. She was covered in cuts and bruises. She was still alive—just barely.
"Sarah! Sarah!" he shouted, trying to grab his sister's attention.
One of the prods touched her stomach. She let out a scream.
Connor realized then that he'd never heard her scream before. Sarah wasn't a screamer. She suffered in silence. Not him. He had a low tolerance for pain.
"Don't you fuckin' touch her!" Connor shouted, his voice rough.
The doctors laughed, dancing in circles around their new captive. They took turns drawing out her screams over Connor's protests. Her screams drowned him out.
He fought to grab hold of the bond between them. The tenuous thread that connected them was gone. He couldn't feel her despite being mere feet apart. Not even a whimper came through the bond.
The Madness inside him rose. His sister had been turned into a broken shell. His vibrant, kick-ass sister was mentally and physically shattered.
He jerked his wrist against the strap.
Snap!
One hand was free. He scrambled to undo his right hand. The doctors didn't notice. Not that he cared.
A tool bench rested against a wall. It was littered with weapons meant for torture, including other stun guns and cattle prods. He fingered a few of the weapons before selecting a stun gun.
"Oi! Leave her alone!" Connor demanded, stepping toward the two men. They looked up, surprised to see him free, let alone walking and aiming a gun at one of them.
A cattle prod moved to hit his broken ribs. Connor acted faster, launching the prongs out of the stun gun. They attached to the closet man's chest, zapping him.
In a swift move, Connor dropped the used gun and dropped his fist, protecting his injured ribs. The prod from the conscious doctor struck his left wrist. His fist absorbed the energy; pulsing and crackling like electricity.
He punched the stunned man in the face, breaking through his nose and into his skull. Bone caved in, the current traveling back down Connor's fist and into the dying man's body.
As one man gurgled on his own blood, Connor punched the other twin in the heart, crashing through ribs to pummel the organ.
Dripping with blood, the youngest Hatter hurried to his sister's side. He was still in the full grip of Madness; completely unaware of the destruction he'd caused. He went to untie her, only to have his hand travel through where she should be.
An image flickered, faltered, and died.
Sarah Hatter wasn't a captive. She wasn't even real.
Jessica followed Caterpillar's advice and headed toward the Looking Glass. There were some forests near the Hall. There was a chance that her father was hiding out there.
As she walked through the woods alone, her stolen horse long gone, she imagined meeting her birth father.
Will he really know who I am? Where has he been all these years? How could he leave us with those horrid people? Didn't he love us at all?
What about mum? He could've saved her!
What kind of selfish jerk leaves his lover to die?
What if he hates me?
Damon threw open the doors to the game room. He had modeled the room after his grandmother's casino. There were several in the palace. Some were meant to be used with Oysters to drain them. Others were meant to showcase tarts.
The room he'd chosen—the one he sentenced Ana of Diamonds too—was an upscale night club setting with several backrooms for privacy and other activities. There were few lights in the main part of the game room. Some spotlights focused on a variety of dancers in various states of undress and health.
Most of the tarts in the royal game room were hand-picked and treated well by his staff. Moderately well. They received food and some medical care.
Damon picked a couch. He sat down, watching a blonde girl on a pole. The way she moved reminded him of someone he'd rather forget.
He made a motion to one of the Suits standing guard to deliver the girl to a backroom.
She wasn't perfect, but she'd do for the moment.
"Excuse me, I was wondering if you could tell me who rules Wonderland," Alice asked a bartender at a pub. She had been traveling for a good three days with Chase since the Manor, hoping to reach an occupied village.
The bartender snorted. "King Damon, o' course. What are ye, daft?"
Chase, who had rubbed dirt and ash into his very blonde hair, shared a look of horror with Alice, who was in the disguise of an older woman. They'd procured a wig for her and thick glasses. After three days of hard living, they both looked like travelers, not royalty.
"Really? I thought there was a Queen…"
"The Queen Alice? God rest her soul, she passed on many years ago. So did her children. King Damon was the next heir after his father's passing."
"What happened to Queen Alice?"
The bartender leaned closer, his voice lowered. "Didn't ya know? She was murdered."
Her blank eyes were wide in horror.
Damon spat in them.
He stood up, leaving the bed. The bitch didn't move. She'd never move again. She would never defy him again.
Blood coated his bare skin, the sheets, the paint on the walls and ceiling, as well as the carpet. He didn't seem to notice or care. He even left his blood-slicked knife lying on the bed.
Her body was a mess full of stab wounds, cigarette burns, and half-finished mutilation.
Copious amounts of copper blood soaked through the sheets and the mattress. Every piece of fabric in the room would have to be burned later. But Damon didn't care.
He still wasn't satisfied. Killing one blonde hooker wasn't enough. She was a sloppy substitute for the real thing. This one didn't even fight him. She didn't have the spirit necessary to be a worthy kill. She was nothing more than garbage.
The woman who deserved a painful, slow death was still loose. Damn Ana of Diamonds. She'd gotten under his skin.
Damon couldn't wait to fuck her senseless and feel the warmth wetness of her blood on her skin. To hear her beg and scream as he slowly drained her of both blood and life. To hold her life in his hands as he slowly choked her to death.
Then he'd let her breathe again. He'd bring her back.
Just to kill her again.
Over and over again until he was sick of the game.
Until he was sick of Ana. Until he purged her from his system.
Then he would probably fuck her corpse just for kicks. To further humiliate and defile the bitch who murdered his grandmother.
Yes, he liked that idea very much.
Author's Notes:
Okay so now Damon's even scaring me… He's a sick, twisted little fucker. Hey, at least he's not a cannibal. But still, I apologize if I offended anyone.
RECAP: (CONNOR) Connor snaps a bit after he sees Drs. Dee and Dum torturing his sister. He breaks free and kills the twins with his bare hands. He then goes to free his sister, only to find out that Sarah wasn't ever there.
(DAMON) Damon kills the blonde dancer as a substitute for Ana. She suffered greatly and he's planning on doing worse to Ana. He even plans to strangle her, revive her, and kill her again. It's clear he's become very unhinged now and is focused on killing Ana.
In other news, how do you think Alice will handle the news of her own murder?
As always, please, please comment and review. I also accept anonymous reviews. Thanks for reading and suffering through this unusually violent chapter!
