by Cameron Jace
What we know so far about Black Chess is that it is an ancient organization the Queen herself took part in. The leader of the organizations is a man who goes by the name Mr. Jay. At this moment in time, there is no further information about his true identity available.
The only information available is that it is claimed Mr Jay is the Jabberwocky, which is the evil creature mentioned in a poem written by Lewis Carroll.
There have been sightings of Lewis Carroll himself.
We would like to ask anyone who has further information about the mushrooms appearing everyone, to please contact us.'
7
Present: The Wonderland War, London
I snatch the sword from the kid and stare him in the eyes. He folds his arms with a smug look on his face.
"Is everyone in the bus dead?" I ask.
"That'll be five pounds if you want an answer," he says.
The March Hare pulls me away from the kids but I resist.
"Alice," he insists. "We don't have time. I need to tell you what I know."
The kid spit out a few obscene words at me and hurries away. I let go and give in, almost numb to my core. The Vorpal sword is heavy in my hands but it somehow gives me the strength to cope.
I follow the March to a huge mushroom broken in half.
"Let's climb on top of it," he shows me how. "Broken mushrooms don't come back to life. We can talk on top of this one. It's a good spot to see any danger coming our way."
I follow him and stand looking down at what's left from this world.
"The secret Lewis kept with me is about the Looking Glass," the March starts. "A mirror that once belonged to the Evil Queen from the Snow White fame."
"What?" I blink, unable to connect the dots.
"It's the first mirror ever made. At least the first-ever sold by a German scientist called Justus von Lieblig."
"Okay?"
"It's said that Justus wasn't aiming for a reflective surface for us to look at ourselves," the March explains. "He wanted to visit other worlds through the mirror."
"Excuse me?"
"Justus was an evil magician. Some say he was the devil."
"Where is this going? We don't have time."
The March doesn't even address my complaint. "Something inside the mirror killed him. Then the mirror landed in the hands of the Evil Queen."
"That's assuming she isn't a character from a book," I say.
"You and I are characters from books so don't fret, Alice."
I can't argue with that, so I shut up and listen.
"The mirror showed the Evil Queen how to kill Snow White, then the mirror was abandoned until someone brought it over to sell it in an auction."
"How and why did this mirror come from Germany to London?" I'm just playing along, seeing where this is going.
"Sotheby Auction House was the most famous in the world. It attracted the richest of the rich," the March catches his breath. There is so much info-dump he has to vomit in my face. "The Pillar knew about the mirror and wanted to buy it, among others like Lewis who were fascinated by it."
"The Pillar wanting to buy an evil mirror makes sense to me. Lewis has always been curious about the occult and the unknown. Go on."
"Long story short, the mirror was sold to a mysterious woman in a red fur."
"You mean the woman we met at the mushroom house?"
"Yes, the Red Queen. She bought it to go back to where she once lived. It's a long, complicated story. All you have to know is that the mirror is a window to other worlds, other times, sometimes the same world we live in but with different scenarios."
"I'm confused again."
"Don't worry. What you need to know is that Lewis, and his trusted Illustrator, crossed over to the other side through the mirror."
I shrug. Lewis never told me that. So Lewis visited other worlds than Wonderland and the Real World? "This mirror is the Looking Glass mentioned in Lewis' book then?"
The March nodded in agreement. "He even hints at the fact it once played a part in the Snow White story by having Alice -- you -- own a cat named Snowdrop."
"Snowdrop?"
"Snowdrop is the realistic translation to Snow White in old German."
"Okay. Okay," I raise my hands in the air. "What's this all about then? Why is it important? Why was this a secret Lewis had to keep with you for all those years?"
The March swallows hard. He wipes sweat from his forehead. "Lewis and his friend came back from the other side different people."
"How different?"
"Lewis came back with Carolus inside him."
I suppress a shriek. So Carolus hadn't always been inside him and wasn't a product of his addiction to mushrooms, or the migraines. It's actually a dark entity from a world beyond.
"And his friend came back without a soul."
"His illustrator friend?"
"Yes?"
"Does he have a name? Do I know him?"
The March's eyes moisten with fear, devastation, and hopelessness. "His friend is Mr. Jay."
"Mr. Jay? The head of Black Chess?" I sound like I'm asking but I'm not. I'm reciting facts that go back to the beginning of all this mess between good and evil. "Lewis and Mr. Jay were friends?"
"Close ones. Then they entered the mirror and came back Dark and Light. Love and Hate. Black Chess and Inklings. That was Lewis' biggest secret. Going in and out through the mirror, he became a conflicted defender of light, and Mr. Jay the opposite. He became darkness itself."
"Why hadn't Lewis ever mentioned Mr. Jay in any of his books?"
"He did."
"He didn't."
"The poem."
"Which poem?"
"Mr. Jay is the Jabberwocky who you will have to fight in the end."
It's hard to tell why I'm not surprised. In fact, I feel stupid and naive having never figured out Mr. Jay was the Jabberwocky. Too much was going on in my life, I guess.
Still, I need a minute to digest the whole story. A man and his illustrator enter through a dark mirror -- something like a wardrobe in C. S. Lewis' books -- and come back with evil in them. They end up fighting each other in an ancient war between good and evil -- and probably the power to teleport between worlds.
Still, a question remains, "What were they fighting about, March?"
"Children, Alice. It should be crystal clear by now. Lewis spent his life entertaining children to keep their minds away from the Jabberwocky trying to get to them, either in their nightmares or by ensuing poverty in London. Remember the times when most children were poor and homeless. That was the Jabberwocky's doing. He wanted their hearts and souls so he could spread his kingdom of evil. Lewis fought back by writing books and entertaining them…"
"No," I interrupt him. I do that because I get it. I get what Lewis was doing all along now. I understand. "Lewis protected the children with madness."
"What?"
"Insanity, imagination, and stories were Lewis' way of occupying the young mind and keeping them entertained, far from the darkness of the real world. That's why Lewis comes across as a child. He himself used this strategy in his own life. Burying himself in insane, implausible books to keep his mind off the real insanity in the real world. I think it's genius. I think it's why we all read."
The March Hare looks starstruck. He never thought about it, I guess.
"So I have to fight the Jabberwocky?"
"Him or the Pillar."
"Why the Pillar?"
"That's Lewis' secret, that at the right time after you go through a journey of suffering and growing up, you will be apt enough to use the Vorpal sword and kill the evil men from Black Chess. Lewis hadn't been sure. He said you must kill the Jabberwocky, but then said the Pillar might do as well."
"Do it for what?"
"To save the children."
"How?"
"Once you kill the evil source, it will be shown to you how to save them--and save the world."
I look up at the ashen sky but refrain from tak
ing a deeply polluted breath. I close my eyes. Part of me feels old and hectic and confused. That part wants to find a place to sleep and forget about the world. The other part is grateful. At least now I know how to end this mess. How I'm going to kill the Pillar and the Jabberwocky is beyond my understanding--especially the Pillar.
But then I lower my head and face the March again. There is one last question left, "What happened to Lewis and Jabberwocky on the other side of the mirror?"
The March shrugged his shoulders. "No one knows."
I nod.
"If anyone knows, it should be you." He adds.
I tilt my head, incomprehensible. "Me?"
"You were the third person to enter the mirror after them," the March dared not stare me in the eyes.
"What did you just say?" I don't remember any of this, of course.
"How do you think Dark Alice happened?" He says. "This is how you…"
"How I what?"
"How you lost your mind."
8
Present: The Queen of Hearts Memorial, London
While the world fell apart, the Cheshire, now dressed in the Joker's outfit, dug up a grave.
That would be putting it mildly, as he wasn't using a shovel. Neither was he using a hammer, or even a steel mallet.
He was running over the Queen's tomb with a bulldozer.
"Out of the way!" he waved at the people staring at him.
"You can't bring down the Queen's tombstone with your bulldozer!" a few men objected, trying to stand in his way.
"Why do you care? It's the end of the world," he pushed the pedal.
Like rats, they skidded all around him.
"That's better now," he grinned from under his Joker mask.
"He is crazy!" someone shouted. "This Joker is a madman."
"We're all mad here, aren't we?" he ran over the tomb, bringing down the marble construction over the Queen's grave.
Then he reversed. He needed three runs over the Queen's grave.
"Not the Queen, please," an older woman pleaded.
"Trust me, hag, you've got no idea what this woman did," he jumped out of the bulldozer and grabbed a shovel and began digging in hopes to reach the Queen's coffin.
"Why in God's name would you want to dig out her grave?" the woman insisted.
"Have to talk to her," the Cheshire said nonchalantly and kept digging.
"She is dead," the woman said.
"I know how to possess her body and get her to talk," he said.
"Oh my God, you're the devil himself," she whimpered. "I should’ve known, it's the end of times."
"Don't insult me, woman," he reached the coffin and hurled the shovel away, ready to pull the coffin out. "The devil is a pussy."
Her eyes popped wide with surprise.
The Cheshire stopped, rethinking his sentence. He grinned again from under his mask. The devil is a pussy must have been his favorite play on words. Pussy is a cat, and he was one. Some would think the devil is pussy, as in a coward. But he actually meant he was the devil himself. The Cheshire had never been treated to a proper education, but in nonsensical Wonderland mumbo jumbo, he was proud of his literary achievement.
"How dare you swear in my presence," the woman said. "I'm as old as your mother."
"You'd help me pull that coffin up if you were a good mother," he panted.
But he didn't need help. The job was done. The coffin lay at his feet. He whistled a melody of excitement then pulled the coffin open. And there lay the Queen of Hearts, headless.
"I don't like the Pillar, you know," he talked to the dead corpse. "But him going off with your head, that was a touch of ironic genius karma, I have to admit."
"She is dead. Stop talking to her," the old woman protested.
The Cheshire was fed up.
He ambled, sure of himself, back to the bulldozer, the woman not taking her pestering eyes off of him.
A minute later he came out with a mallet and approached her.
She shivered in place.
"You think you're the Joker, eh?" she mocked him. "He isn't real, you know?"
The Cheshire pulled the mask off and grinned in Father Cardone's face. "But this grin, darling," he lifted up the mallet and chopped off her head. "Is real."
Devoid of guilt, the Cheshire ambled back with the dead woman's head and jammed it onto the top of the Queen's body. "Here you go," he talked to the dead Queen. "A brand new head for the Queen."
Then he recited a few purrs and meows, part of an ancient Cat magic used back in ancient Egypt to temporarily resurrect dead cats.
The Queen was no cat but she began to purr a few blood clots out of her mouth.
"We don't have much time," he told her.
"What the heck do you want from me," she said. "I'm dead."
"But of course you are, my Queen," he knelt down. "The Pillar killed you."
"The bastard," she spat blood in his face.
"I can avenge you," the Cheshire said. "I want to kill him."
"Why now?"
"I just had this discussion with Jabberwocky, so spare me," the Cheshire said. "We're characters from a book, Queen. Why do you expect my actions to all make sense? Now tell me how I can kill him. I know you're the only one who knows how."
"I only know what my sister, Fabiola, told me."
"Fair enough," the Cheshire said. "And don't tell me about his fourteen lives and all that crap. I need a specific, swift, and irreversible way to kill him."
"He is sick and might die soon, you know that?"
"I do, but I'd like to look in his eyes while I kill him. It's not about his death. It's about my satisfaction."
"And the curse?" the Queen spat out, her tongue twisting and eyes icy like round ice cubes from a freezer.
"What curse?" the Cheshire tilted his head.
"The Pillar made a deal with the Looking Glass. Whoever kills him is cursed with having to wear his face and body for life."
The Cheshire felt a thick lump in his throat. Why was the Pillar always ten miles ahead of him? But then he realized his thirst for killing his nemesis only escalated.
"I never knew about that," he said. "But I don't mind wearing his face for life after I die," he then smirked at his own self. "I've never had a certain face anyways. I don’t even know if I’m Father Angelo or the Joker. I guess he knew I'd kill him eventually and wear his face for life."
The Queen coughed more blood and went limp.
The Cheshire slapped her hard to wake her up, "Not yet, my Majesty," he watched her icy eyes shine up and curled tongue twist. "How do I kill him? What's his weakness?"
"His hookah."
"Pardon me?"
"Choke him with his own hookah, right after he puffs it. Use the hose. It will glitter when ready. In fact, he doesn't smoke the hookah only to get high, but it's a Persian magic smoke, holy smoke you can say, that makes his sick lungs operate. Fabiola said if you choke him with his own hookah, he dies."
The Cheshire stood up, not bothering to clean the mess he left behind. He was eager to find the Pillar, now that he knew his weakness.
But where would he find him?
Ah, of course, he remembered. The Pillar always goes where Alice goes.
9
Present: The Wonderland War, London
I still have a question to ask the March, like what he meant when he said he remembered tomorrow, but a crack in the earth underneath interrupts us in the craziest way. Both of us topple backward toward the earth.
I hang onto a couple of vines on my way down and catch my breath before I find a safe spot to land on. When my feet hit the floor, I realize I lost the March.
“March!” I scream from the top of my lungs.
No reply.
I doubt he can hear me with the earth spitting infinite amounts of mushrooms out. The world is a cacophony of noises all around me. The feeling of wishing this was all a dream returns. How I wish I could wake up and realize that none of this ever happened.
&nbs
p; Strange enough I’m still gripping my Vorpal sword. The March is right. It’s time for my final battle. And since I don’t know what Mr. Jay looks like, I thirst for my battle with the Pillar first.
“March!” I shout again, running frantically all around.
But the streets are too dangerous to walk now. I don’t want to leave the March behind, but what difference does it make. Everyone I know dies around me. I’m more of a plague than just a mad girl.
How can I find the Pillar?
A question that will have to wait.
Why?
Reddish shadows emerge from behind the mushrooms. Too many to count. It’s an ambush. They have been waiting for me. It’s hard to mistake the Reds whenever they show up. I never understood whom they really work for. The Pillar said they were simply mercenaries working for whomever pays more.
“Alice!” One of them addressed me.
They’re circling me from every direction. I can’t see their faces as usual. Blank darkness beneath their hoods. Swords in their hands.
“What do you want?” My knuckles whiten, gripping my sword.
“You, Alice,” their leader says. “Dead.”
The circles close in on me, one inch at a time. I can hear their breathing, lusting for my blood. “Who sent you this time?”
“Does it matter?” the leader says snakily. “Black Chess.”
“Who in Black Chess?”
“It’s over, Alice. That sword isn’t going to help you.”
“Tell Jabberwocky he still needs me. He can’t kill me,” I see them getting closer and closer. They’re still slow though. Which means the Red is bluffing. They’re afraid of me, or they would have just come and killed me.
“He does,” the Red admits. “But now that the mushrooms erupt from the earth, he prefers to get his hands on the secret of the next round.”
“The next round?” I grimace, cautiously eyeing my assailants all around me.
Surprisingly the Red’s leader signs for them to stop. They do. I’m perplexed and confused.