DESCENDING INTO MADNESS

by Brown, Stacey Marie

  Scrooge lurched forward, but the guards clamped down on him, holding him in place.

  “I say it’s time for the festivities to begin,” she exclaimed to her guests. They cheered in response, but I had a feeling they were frightened inhabitants ruled by her dictatorship and too scared to speak up or fight her.

  “I hope your “Rebel Alliance” is watching. Mutiny will be cut off at the head.” She winked, walking past me. “I will make sure they see what happens to those who disobey me. Go against the laws of the land.”

  “Let the rabbit live,” I yelled after her. She stopped short, swinging around.

  “You are a persistent thing.”

  “Yes. I am. You should respect another woman standing up for what she believes in.”

  Mrs. Claus let out a bubbled laugh, her hand going to her chest, eyes sliding to Scrooge. “Oh, I like her much better than the last one.”

  His jaw locked.

  “Sure.” She flipped her hand at the ice rink. “Let the creature go. My beasts will have more fun hunting him and his family down. Tearing them a part. They love hasenpfeffer for dinner.” She nodded her head to the man holding the bunny. The man stared at her in fear, lowering the animal to the ice, terrified he was being tricked. He slowly loosened his grip on the rabbit’s fur.

  The scarlet-painted bunny scrambled to the exit of the rink. Stopping, his beady dark eyes met mine before tearing away and disappearing into the foliage.

  Damn. I hoped he got his family and kept running.

  “See? I’m not so heartless as you think.” Her malevolent tone shot my attention back to her.

  In the distance, the howls of dogs could be heard, their excited yips at being on the hunt nipped dread at my heart. Saving him might have only handed him an even worse fate.

  “It’s too bad.” She clicked her tongue at me. “You would have been a wonderful asset to my assembly. I can see it. You hide it well, my dear.”

  “What?”

  “Anger. Hate.” She touched her chin. “You have been burned by a man. Betrayed, greatly.”

  My mouth crunched down.

  “Oh, there it is.” Her eyes flared with excitement. “And what really infuriates us is we know we are stronger and smarter. Men are the inferior sex, but we are the ones treated as silly women, because they are not secure enough to even come close to our power. How many times has a man shushed you or belittled you to put you back in your place? Thousands of times. Every. Damn. Day. Am I right?”

  Damn. I could feel myself nod, agreeing with everything she said. That was how Martin and so many others before him had treated me—a silly, thoughtless girl. Impulsive and passionate meant I wasn’t smart somehow, or I could never manage anything serious or handle life without a man taking care of me. I recalled many times Martin would say to me, “Oh don’t worry about it, sweetheart. I got it. I know it must be confusing.”

  No, it fucking wasn’t confusing. I understood perfectly, but I let him put me down. Allowed myself to take it, because if I stood up for myself, then I was being a bitch. Never. Again.

  A grin curved over the mouth of the Queen as she watched the anger rise in me.

  “You see why I put the males in their rightful place here? To serve a woman. The only thing they are good at. It’s been too long that we have stayed quiet and subservient. We are by far superior, and they know it. It scares them so much they beat us, belittle us, make laws to take away our rights, ignore us, violate us…”

  Like magic, her words bobbed my head in agreement. Wrath leaked down my throat, rolling my hands into balls. Hate. Vengeance. Hostility. I wanted them to suffer. To know how it felt when they did it to us.

  “Ms. Liddell.” His deep voice slipped up the back of my neck, sending shivers down my spine.

  I hated it. Hated he had this power to make me physically and mentally react to him. Weakness, a voice hissed in my head. He should not have power over you, to make you need or want him.

  “Fight her.” I could hear him struggling against the sentinels, inching closer to me.

  A snarl vibrated in my throat, glancing over my shoulder at him. Like two tides colliding, desire and animosity swirled, breaking inside me.

  “Alice.” His blue eyes locked on mine. “She has power to make you feel, to believe, anything she wants… fight her.”

  His claim triggered a memory of when we first arrived, she had done something to him that made him fall to his knees in agony.

  Doesn’t matter, the voice inside me said. You know it’s the truth. The rage and resentment for all the men and my family for treating me like a foolish little girl grew. All the promotions you were passed over for a less experienced man. The amount of times a man condescendingly called you “baby,” “sweetie,” or “little lady,” telling you to smile. Touching you without consent and getting mad at you when you got upset.

  “Alice, please. I know what she is doing. Twisting the truth. She’s turning feelings already there ugly. Black.”

  “Don’t listen to him, Alice.” The Queen waved him off like a mosquito. “As usual, a man thinks he knows better.”

  Yeah. Fuck. Them. We’d be better off if they all were dead. But kill them slowly. Cruelly. Let them get a taste of what they have done to us for centuries. The depth of the ire, the malicious wrath coating me, spiked alarm and fear. Crackling chestnuts, did I really feel that angry?

  “You are stronger than her.” Scrooge spoke low, his words as rich as cognac in my ear as his body inched in next to mine. “You are stronger than I am. Don’t let her inside your head.”

  I squeezed my lids, feeling dizzy and tired. I no longer knew what my thoughts and feelings were and what she was planting in me. Yes, I was angry, but it was like she poured gasoline on the already burning fire, inciting the flames until they consumed me. Turned me black and corroded.

  Just like her.

  “Don’t let her win.” He twisted enough so his fingers touched mine; the graze of his skin shot a surge of adrenaline through my gut, sparking my body with life. Like a switch, clarity swept away the darkness consuming my head.

  “Shit.” I breathed in, shaking my head, trying to rid myself of the sludge creeping around in my mind. I stared up at Scrooge, his eyes locking on mine, giving me the last bit of grit I needed.

  “Nice try, bitch.” I glowered at the Queen. “I’m not that easy to control.”

  She smirked, shrugging. “You could have been great. So much potential in you to be truly powerful and remarkable. We would have been magnificent.”

  “I’d still be your slave,” I sneered. “Still controlled and manipulated. Woman or man, I’m no one’s puppet.”

  She grinned. “I will regret you the most. But I am ruler here, and there is only room for one.” She rotated, the soldiers pushing Scrooge and me forward.

  I glanced over at Scrooge, my appreciation for his warning on my tongue.

  He stared at me so intensely my heart thudded in my chest.

  “What?” I whispered, not able to get anything else out.

  “You, Ms. Liddell.” His eyes drifted over my face. “You have certainly made life in Winterland quite interesting. It’s a shame it will be over soon.” He faced forward, his jaw twitching. “It seems you fit here better than I imagined.”

  “Why? Because I gave into the madness here?”

  “No.” His gaze slide to me. “Because you accepted it in yourself.”

  Chapter 13

  “Let the un-party commence.” Mrs. Claus waved her arms as she stood on the stairs of the terrace, the castle looming behind her. A towering object, almost two stories high, was covered in a gray blanket and sat in the middle of the courtyard.

  A tall well-built man with no shirt, but who wore a large black hood over his head, moved to it. The partygoers traveled in closer, a buzzing energy swirled, swatting against me. The man ripped the covering from the object, the cloth falling in the snow with a thump.

  “Christmas. Fucking. Cookies.” I gasped, m
y throat burning with terror, my head cranking back to see the top.

  Glinting under the blood-red lights, the polished metal guillotine shone, the angled blade gleaming with what looked like teeth. Everything felt alive here, hungry for my blood. The man next to it was an executioner.

  Losing my head had been spoken about since I came to this place, but until this moment, the truth skated by, not quite sinking in. Fear so deep in my soul shook my body as if I were being electrocuted from the inside out, my bones rattling together. I was really going to die here, a painful, horrendous death, and in a place where I didn’t belong. My family would never know what happened to me.

  “Scrooge.” His name broke like a tiny cry over my mouth, my head spinning, my lungs not getting enough air.

  He peered over at me, his lips rolling together, but no response came.

  “Off with her head! Off with her head!” Someone screamed behind me, yanking my attention back to the crowd. The chant picked up, people clapping along, making it sound sinister, like this was some sick ritual.

  Licking their lips, stomping their feet, and cheering it on made me realize they were hungry for this. Wanted death. Maybe because it wasn’t their own, or maybe they had grown bloodthirsty. Their howls escalated, turning into a mob—one voice, one craving. Gray and black outfits blended together until it was a sea of faces chanting like talking heads.

  “Bring her,” the Queen yelled at the guards holding me. They shoved me forward, my feet tumbling through the snow, trying to stay upright. They twisted me around to face the crowd, but only bobbing heads yelled and sang back to me, looking like a creepy cartoon. I stared at Scrooge, the only link I had in this messed-up land, and I wasn’t even sure if I trusted him. But funny how imminent death can throw everything else out the window. He was all I had.

  No emotion showed on his face, but his eyes stayed on mine. My body almost collapsed under my quaking legs. Tears pricked my lids and one escaped, sliding down my cheek, but I kept my head high, forcing my gaze solely on him. He was so rugged and sexy. I let myself fall into his beauty… not wanting to think that soon I would no longer look at him. Never feel his touch again. Nor would I ever see my family again.

  “To all those who are disloyal to me… see your own fate before you. To all those who think about resisting…” The Queen spoke to the crowd, their chants turning into boos and hisses toward anyone who’d go against her. “This is how you repay me? I only bring you liberty from his tyranny, from being slaves in a workshop.” Her voice was commanding, and I could see the mass of heads nod together in unison. “Am I not a generous Queen? And one who chose to be more than a toy builder and being stuck in the kitchen day in and out. I brought you freedom. All I ask is for your loyalty.”

  “Like a true dictator,” I yelled out to the crowd. “Do you not see? There is no freedom if you are killed for not agreeing with her. For not fitting into her box. Did you not love bringing joy to millions? Did you live in terror every day your head would be chopped off for burning a batch of cookies?”

  “Shut. Her. Up!” Mrs. Claus screamed at the guards around me.

  “Did Santa Claus make you live in fear? Live in a gray world with no cheer or happiness.” No one moved or responded, but at least they had stopped chanting. “Fight her. Resist. Even though you’re alive doesn’t mean you are living. And no life is worth living if you are just existing.”

  Crap. I was starting to sound as crazy as everyone else here.

  “Enough,” the Queen screeched. “Off with her head!”

  The executioner grabbed my elbow, pushing me down to my knees. Was it sick I noticed he had an incredible body and nice large hands? I had to take the little enjoyments where I could.

  He moved in close, his palm pushing on my spine, my arms pinned to my back, bending me over the block, the voices of the crowd turning back into a frenzy. So much for my speech.

  I bit down on my lip until I tasted blood, trying not to sob uncontrollably. Was I sorry I followed that damn deer down the rabbit hole? Yes. But I would never be sorry for being a curious person, for wanting to know more. To question things. To be uncurious was to be no better than the sheep that followed each other. How dull this world would be without wonder. I hated the phrase “curiosity killed the cat.” It was meant to warn people to keep in line. Behave and follow the leader. To be told what to do and accept it, not figuring it out for yourselves. I had fallen and made a lot of bad decisions in my life, but I did not regret one. They were mine, and they made me who I was.

  “Alice!” I heard my name being yelled, his deep voice strangely settling me. Scrooge. I closed my eyes, my chin tucked against the cool metal, giving way to the memory of his fingers running over my skin, the pain and pleasure he drew from my body. It drowned everything out in the fantasy of his hand moving lower, of his mouth gliding over my collarbone to my breasts.

  The sound of the crowd disappeared as I slipped deep into my reverie.

  “Wish for it, Alice.” A hoarse whisper stroked at my ear, bolting my lids open, twisting my head to the side. The executioner loomed over me, his brown eyes the only thing I could see through the hood.

  What the hell? Was I hallucinating? Was I dead? I blinked, twisting forward; the cry of “off with her head” stabbed chills at my skin like darts.

  “You have the power, Alice. Don’t forget.” The low whisper dragged up the back of my mouth, fluttering my lungs; the brush of the hood licked my temple. “Fight. Wish.” He stood up, stepping back to the handle of the guillotine. A click sounded. The crowd went insane, chilling my blood.

  Wish?

  Shit…

  Wish. As I had in the gingerbread house. Or when I was dying from the holly.

  Why was the Queen’s assassin trying to help me? Crap, it didn’t matter right then. I squeezed my lids closed, pleading for help, hearing the blade move above my head.

  The smell of warm baked sugar sprang in my nose, popping my lashes up. A frosted reindeer cookie lay on the block, the tag “Eat Me” tied to his antler.

  “Now,” the Queen ordered.

  With my hands tied behind my back, my mouth dove for the cookie as I heard the swish of the blade being set free, plummeting down to my neck like a bullet. Frosting touched my tongue, a bit of the cookie sliding down my throat.

  Crack!

  Similar to a bomb going off, the blade slammed to a stop mere inches away from my neck, shoving me off the block with a force. Soldiers and the assassin were tossed back as my body went rolling, the tinsel falling away from my wrists. My body spun roughly into the snow, slamming into one of the toy soldiers.

  Holy fucking jingle bells. I’m alive.

  The glow over my body was exactly the same as the time in the gingerbread house… the force field protecting me from the crushing walls. It protected me again. Damn, I loved sugar cookies.

  My gaze snapped around, seeing everyone was still in disbelief, the crowd’s murmurs rising as it wore off. The Queen swung to me, shock, fear, and anger twisted her features.

  My attention darted to Scrooge. He blinked at me in wonder but responded faster than I thought. His head bumped back into a guard. He twisted, swept his leg out, and knocked the ones holding him down to the ground. Leaning over, he used the spade blade to cut the tinsel from his wrists.

  “Don’t just lie there. Get up! Get her!” the Queen screamed, pointing at me.

  “Shit,” I muttered, scrambling to my feet. Several guards tried to snatch me, but the magic still surrounded me and thrust them back like they had been punched.

  “You are all idiots,” the Queen yelled. “Someone. Anyone. Get them! I order you!”

  Madness broke over the crowd, people once again running and bouncing around but not really going anywhere.

  “Alice!” Scrooge’s voice pulled me to the owner like a magnet. Shoving, punching, and kicking, we worked our way through the mass, trying to reach each other.

  The glow around me dimmed, letting the soldiers grab m
e. I tried to ask for more cookies, but nothing happened. It seemed there was a limit on wishes.

  I spotted Scrooge through the throng, fighting as if he had years of training. He was hat-free, and his blue eyes gave off the impression he was having fun.

  “Scrooge!” My elbow smashed into a wooden gut, making me cry out in pain. “Damn, that hurt. Asshole!” I kicked at the toy soldier, and he thudded to the ground.

  “Hey.” Scrooge’s hands skated over my arms, turning me to face him. “You’re okay?” His gaze roamed over me, making sure I was in one piece.

  “Yeah.” I nodded.

  “We’re gonna talk about whatever happened a moment ago.”

  “Later.” I donkey-kicked one of the Queen’s minions. “Let’s get out of here first.”

  “I’m holding you to that, Ms. Liddell.” He smirked, fire dancing in his eyes, swinging around, punching a guard.

  “You can hold me against or on anything,” I heard myself mumble, watching him move. Dammnnn…

  “What?” He glanced back at me.

  “What?” I blinked. Did I say it out loud?

  “Ms. Liddell?” he called. “Some help here?”

  Taking just a beat to peer around, I realized how much trouble we were in. Our odds were extremely bad. Two against hundreds. We’d both end up back in the cell or on the block in minutes.

  “If we’re gonna go out…” Scrooge lifted an eyebrow at me as he tossed a soldier into a group, knocking them down like dominos. “At least we did it fighting.”

  I nodded, feeling a twinge in my heart at the thought of something happening to him. Moving in next to him, I tried to fight back the hopeless feeling as the horde of guests and soldiers came at us.

  Boom!

  The thunderous noise shook the ground; a large fireball exploded up in the sky in the garden behind the guests. Screams of terror shrilled into the still air; the crowd ran, trying to get away from the flames.

  “There’s a fire,” the soldiers yelled, scrambling away like ants.

  “I don’t care! Stop them!” The Queen pointed as us.

  “Come on!” A hand clutched my arm, dragging me forward. My head jerked to the side, seeing the hood of the executioner.