Malice In Wonderland

by H. P. Mallory

  “Everything was really great, Knight,” I added in a small voice.

  He beamed like a proud kid who’d just gotten an A on his book report. I shook my head.

  Knight stopped walking once we reached the decrepit gates of Daiseyville and studied me. I felt the heat of embarrassment staining my cheeks because I knew where this would lead. A kiss. Knight wanted to kiss me and it was as obvious as the fact that I was trying to convince myself I didn’t want him to kiss me. The breeze started up again and seemed to be pushing me into him, encouraging me to sample his lush and full mouth. Granted, I’d kissed Knight before but it had been solely because we had to maintain the façade of a couple hot for one another—otherwise our alibi would have been shot and our case jeopardized.

  But, now there was no alibi and no case to jeopardize. It was just Knight and me—alone. I didn’t actually feel myself do it, but I took a step nearer to him and he closed the remaining distance between us, never taking his eyes from mine. He bent down and held my neck between his large hands, heat searing the tender skin on the back of my neck. Yes, I was going to let him kiss me, and furthermore, I was going to enjoy it.

  Just at the moment when he closed his eyes and opened his mouth to come in for the home run, I happened to glance behind him and caught the image of a skeleton lazily leaning against the fence of Daiseyville, watching us with hollow, sightless eyes.

  “Son of a freaking bitch!” I seethed.

  Knight jerked away from me like I’d just bitten him and apparently realizing my Tourette’s Syndrome moment hadn’t been aimed at him, exhaled. “What?” he asked.

  “Turn around,” I called to him behind my shoulder, already closing in on the ten feet separating me from the graveyard.

  “You’ve got to be kidding,” Knight said, apparently catching sight of the lounging skeleton. He jogged a few paces and caught up with me. “What do you think happened?”

  I glanced at the graves, uneven with age—half had crumbled into the earth while the far side of the cemetery sported newer cement tombstones and neatly trimmed grass. But whether old or new, both were cause for alarm. I watched as the dirt of each gravesite began to bubble up as if someone were digging in reverse, from below. Skeletal fingers shot up from the ground like macabre flowers growing on fast forward—some still had flesh hanging from their appendages. I shifted my gaze from the dead who were in the process of unearthing themselves to the oily puddles of darkness that decorated each grave; slime spreading in a slow infestation of the graveyard. The puddles reflected in the moonlight, throwing prisms of color around the cemetery… something that might have been considered pretty if the spectrum of light hadn’t also illuminated the rotting flesh of the recently deceased or the smooth bones belonging to the long dead.

  “Some asswipe spilled Gorm all over the cemetery,” I bit out. Gorm was an illegal potion. If you were alive and took it, you’d feel more alive than ever before—you’d basically be on Cloud 9 for about three hours before you suffered the worst of all come downs, starting with a migraine and ending with the feeling that the world was ending. Some creatures couldn’t handle the come down and took their own lives—it had taken twelve deaths before the ANC had declared Gorm an illegal narcotic. If you were dead and some jerk Gormed you, you’d come back to life—also for about three hours. But, you’d no longer be considered human, nope—you would have passed into the realm of the ghoul.

  In the three hours of Gorm-induced re-life, ghouls became an absolute menace to society. They sought only to escape the confines of the cemetery to basically attack the living, searching for life sustenance. Good thing for Splendor that it had Knight and me.

  “Looks like our work is never done,” Knight said with a sardonic smile. It was a smile that announced he was more than thrilled with the turn of events. Knight thrived on action and enjoyed nothing more than his position of detective for the Netherworld.

  I was a little less enthusiastic. “I need to protect myself against their funk,” I said and nodded over my shoulder towards the dead, many of whom were out of their graves and hobbling around like newly born giraffes.

  As a fairy, I’m endowed with certain powers—I can create dust and then use that dust to make basically anything I want (physical or otherwise). But, I also have limitations. And one of those limitations is the fact that dead and/or rotting ghoul flesh is like acid to my skin. One drop of the nasty stuff burns a hole that never heals. Kind of like the bite of a brown recluse spider on crack. So, protecting myself against the funk of a newborn ghoul was at the top of my list.

  I glanced down at my outfit and said a silent prayer of thanks that I’d worn the longest jeans I owned, protected underneath by knee high black leather boots—the kind with a square heel since I can’t walk in stilettos. Thank Hades for a functioning wardrobe! I was less excited about my top. I couldn’t combat ghouls with my current black leather jacket—it was just too bulky. Underneath it, though, I had on only my red halter top, exposing a landscape of unprotected skin. I reached underneath my top and fingered the Op 6 pistol which I wore strapped to my waist. Pulling it out, I eyed the dragon blood bullets loaded in the chamber.

  “How many you packing?” Knight asked.

  “Six. A full house.”

  “Not enough.” He reached into the waist of his jeans and pulled out a gun I’d never seen before. It almost looked futuristic with its super short barrel and palm sized grip. Maybe it wasn’t so much the shape that made it seem so foreign, but the color—neon green. It almost looked like a kid’s water pistol.

  “Um, what is that?” I asked, trying to shield a laugh.

  Knight scoffed. “Don’t laugh—this is a KG and the thing has major kick. It’s a new toy a buddy of mine from the Netherworld sent over.”

  “Where’s the magazine?” I asked, noting the gun didn’t appear to have ammunition. The walls were see-through and it looked like it was filled with water—or something that kept sloshing against the interior sides of the gun every time Knight moved his hand.

  Knight brought the KG into his line of sight and seemed to target a ghoul that was in the process of shaking the gates of Daiseyville, apparently hell-bent on escaping. “There isn’t one. It’s loaded with intestinal fluid taken from the Kraken.”

  “KG for Kraken Gun?” I asked with a smile, pleased with my stellar ability of logical deduction.

  He returned my smile. “Hey, it didn’t have a name and that’s all I could think of.”

  “Real original there, Knight.”

  Not offended by the slight, he faintly depressed the trigger and then released it again. “You depress only halfway so the gun can take stock of how far away your target is. Then you’ll see a red light. Once you see the red, pull.” Just then, he must’ve seen the red because before he’d even finished his statement, he squeezed the trigger and what looked like a dart of bright yellow liquid shot out of the gun and hit the ghoul square between the eyes. Once the Kraken fluid met the ghoul, it seemed to turn from a liquid into a gel and suddenly exploded into streams of fluorescent beads, disappearing into the ghoul’s eyes, nose and mouth.

  “The Kraken fluid is engineered to enter the ghoul’s body—to get back into the intestine,” Knight announced. “Once it does, if there is any intestine left at all, it’ll start recreating the Kraken which the ghoul’s body won’t be able to tolerate or host.”

  “So it’ll kill the ghoul?” I finished.

  “Yep.”

  “And if there is no intestine?” I asked, glancing at the skeletons that littered the graveyard, some so old their jaws, femurs or other large bones refused to stay intact.

  “The process will just happen much more quickly.”

  I glanced at the recently KG’d ghoul and noticed it looked…confused—that’s the best description I could think of for the non compos mentis thing. It had stopped attempting to escape and now just aimlessly meandered around the graveyard, taking no notice of its surroundings. It tripped over a gravestone
and didn’t get back up.

  “Needless to say, don’t get any of that Kraken shit on you. I have no interest in bedding a Kraken,” Knight announced and handed me the KG.

  “As if you’d get the chance to bed me at all, Kraken or not,” I said with a frown. “All you think about is sex.” I accepted the gun and aimed at the next ghoul in line, pressing the trigger as Knight had shown me. At the red light, I depressed it entirely and watched the line of slime make contact with the ghoul. “Ew.” It was all I could manage.

  Knight raised a brow. “Once you run out of dragon bullets, use the KG. There should be enough Kraken in it to last the evening.”

  I eyed the KG and suddenly had the very concerning image of the nasty intestinal fluid coming into contact with my skin and turning me into a Kraken. “Um, where should I put it so I don’t come into contact with the fluid?”

  Knight shrugged. “There are no traces of fluid on the gun. There’s a one-way chamber that shoots out only so you’re safe. Just put it in your holster.”

  I eyed him squarely. “You’re sure?”

  “I already told you I have no interest in bedding a Kraken. You’re safe.”

  I decided to ignore that last comment and instead turned to the fact that Knight had just given me his weapon so what in the hell was he planning on defending himself with? “What are you going to use?”

  He smiled. “I was going to ask you if you’d mind magicking me a sword?” He paused for a moment and narrowed his eyes. “I’m thinking something long, 100% silver with a thick blade.”

  I threw my hands on my hips. “Would you like fries with that?”

  “Get on it, Dulce,” he said and motioned toward the graveyard, as if reminding me I had better things to do than construct smart ass retorts. I shrugged and shook my palm until a mound of dust emerged. Then I opened my palm and blew the ethereal particles at Knight, closing my eyes as I imagined a sword to the specifications he’d just mentioned. When I opened my eyes, Knight was holding the impressive sword, slicing the air with it as he tried it on for size.

  “Not bad.”

  Now, back to the problem of protecting myself against the ghoul funk to which I now added the Kraken funk as well. Before I had the chance to ponder creating another fistful of fairy dust, Knight was suddenly disrobing. I watched him in amazement, wondering what the hell had just gotten into him that he would start stripping. He unbuttoned his shirt, then pulled off his undershirt and handed them both to me. I tried not to focus on the ripples of muscle that echoed his movements and instead glanced at him with questioning eyes.

  “Um, what the hell are you doing?”

  “Put my shirts on—they’ll protect you against the ghoul slime.”

  I started to shake my head. “I was just going to magick myself a long sleeve shirt. Thanks for the offer though.” I cocked a brow. “Besides, I wouldn’t want you to catch cold.”

  He smiled and it was a smile that overflowed with self assuredness. “I can’t catch anything. Put the shirts on—they’ll protect you better than anything you create for yourself.”

  I glanced at the shirts in my hand and tried to make sense of his statement. A light blue button down and a white tee-shirt—they looked like regular XL shirts to me, but, for all I knew, maybe they were reinforced with ghoul repellant. “What, does Loki sweat protect against ghoul slime?”

  He nodded. “Something like that.”

  One more thing I forgot to mention about Knight and his being a Loki is that I have no idea what powers Lokis possess since Knight is the only one I know of. Furthermore, Knight finds it amusing to keep all the powers he does possess to himself so it’s like a treasure hunt trying to discover them all. And now I had one more talent I could add to the ever growing list.

  I shrugged and tore off my jacket, dropping it into a heap at the base of the Daiseyville gates. I pulled Knight’s tee-shirt over my head and glanced down at myself with a frown. It looked like I was wearing a dress. Well, I wasn’t going to win any fashion awards tonight but no matter, if I could manage to keep the ghoul funk off me, I’d consider it a good night.

  “And the button down,” Knight reminded me. “Never can be too safe.”

  I nodded and pushed my arms through the sleeves while Knight started rolling up the cuffs so the thing fit me better. Once I’d buttoned up the shirt and he’d rolled up both sleeves, he studied me for a moment or two, his eyes dancing.

  “I like the sight of you in my clothes.”

  I frowned. “Yeah, well, don’t get any ideas.” Before he could respond, I glanced at Daiseyville which was now overrun with ghouls—all bumping into one another like a bunch of drunks. I looked back at Knight and watched him lean over and dig a fistful of dirt from the ground. He stood up and I was about to question him when he shook his head and appeared to be moving his cheeks like he was swishing mouthwash.

  “What in the hell are you doing?” I demanded.

  He didn’t say anything but continued swishing and then finally leaned over and spit a wad into the dirt, mixing it into a nasty dirt-spit paste. That was when I realized what he intended to do with it.

  “No way,” I started, backing up.

  “Dulce, your face is unprotected and so are your hands.”

  He had a point but still, a mask of mud and spit? No thanks. “I’ll think of something else.”

  “We don’t have time.”

  Realizing he had a point, and that I had to let him mud me, I opened my eyes again and frowned. “Hurry the hell up.”

  Knight laughed and began pasting me with the spit mud, until I’m sure I looked like a dirt demon. He stepped back as if admiring his handiwork and then set to dirtying up the tops of my hands. After a few more seconds, he wiped the excess on his jeans and faced me with a big smile.

  “You ready to get this ghoul show on the road?”

  I returned my attention to the graveyard and watched a skeleton and a ghoul attempting to climb on top of one another to make it over the fence. “Roger that. Looks like our tenants are getting restless.”

  Knight smiled. “After you, my incredibly sexy lady.”

  I swallowed down a retort and fingered the Op 6 in my palm. I wasn’t nervous although adrenalin was coursing through me. I hadn’t done any ANC business for a while; hopefully my skills weren’t rusty. We both approached the graveyard and stopped just outside the gates.

  “Might as well take these guys out first,” Knight said and without further ado, he began walking along the fence, hoisting his blade above his head and repeatedly decapitating both the ghouls and skeletons alike. The bodies tumbled to the ground and the next line of undead replaced them, receiving the same treatment at the end of Knight’s blade. I figured I’d just wait for him to finish up before I wasted my dragon bullets.

  After the third line of ghouls and skeletons were decapitated, the remaining thirty or so had apparently gotten wise to Knight’s scheme and headed for the center of the graveyard, away from us. That was our cue to go after them. Knight grabbed hold of the fence and hoisted himself over, looking like some legendary warrior going to slay the enemy, wearing only a pair of worn blue jeans and a smile. When he safely landed on the other side, he perused his surroundings and, apparently convinced there were no ghouls immediately threatening, leaned his sword against the fence and motioned for me to come.

  There was no way I, with my 5’1 frame and short legs, was going to be able to leap the fence like freaking Sea Biscuit. So, much as I didn’t want to, I accepted Knight’s help. He grasped my waist and lifted me over the fence as if I weighed nothing at all, depositing me on the ground in front of him. He didn’t remove his hands but, instead, pulled me close and smiled down at me.

  “I’ll have you know that I will still get that kiss from you.”

  “Oh my God, would you get over yourself?” I demanded. “You have a graveyard full of ghouls to kill or have you forgotten?”

  He released me and reached for his sword. “Oh, I haven’t forg
otten, Dulce, but I also keep a tally on things owed me.” He paused a minute and seemed to be scanning the graveyard before him. Seemingly pleased with the number of ghouls retreating to the western end of the graveyard, he started in that direction and I followed him.

  “You wanted to kiss me, I could see it in your eyes,” he continued.

  “Don’t you think it would be a good idea to focus right now?” I demanded. “I really don’t want to end up a ghoul’s dinner.”

  He glanced back at me and shook his head. “You won’t be—not on my watch.”

  A ghoul appeared to be hiding behind a craggy oak tree just before us and Knight walked around the tree, hurling his sword in the air before bringing it down. I grimaced at the sound it made—like a hammer hitting a watermelon. The ghoul’s head rolled out from behind the tree and I nearly walked into it.

  “And, anyway, I’m a multitasker,” Knight said with a smile, resting the enormous sword against his shoulder as he continued on like nothing out of the ordinary had just happened. “I can decapitate and engage in sexy talk at the same time.”

  “Well, I’m not and won’t,” I snapped and sensing movement near an imposing tomb just beside me, I threw my back against the tomb wall and tried to detect where the sound was coming from. Knight followed suit. The tomb was high—maybe ten feet tall by ten feet wide and the sounds of rustling in the undergrowth and the uneven hobbling of the undead interrupted the peaceful quiet of the graveyard. The cold of the cement sunk through both of Knight’s shirts and chilled me to the core. I tried not to shiver but couldn’t keep it at bay.

  “They’re at the other end,” I whispered even though I didn’t have to—ghouls have terrible hearing.

  “You go one way and I’ll go the other and we’ll circle them,” Knight answered and I nodded, starting forward. I crept around to the back of the tomb, trailing my hand against the cold wall. I paused momentarily as I held my Op 6 out before me, then pivoted on my toes and faced the four ghouls and one skeleton at the same time Knight did. The ghouls just stood there dumbly while the skeleton limped back and forth, holding its foot in its hand. It must have been the one that had been making the hobbling sound. Knight didn’t allow the ghouls any time for reaction and hefted the sword from his shoulder, arcing it before bringing it down in a clean, fluid motion. He cleaved off two of the ghoul’s heads while I fired at the other two, taking them both down. That just left the skeleton and before I had the chance to say “boo”, Knight had decapitated him too.