DESCENDING INTO MADNESS

by Brown, Stacey Marie

  His declaration stabbed me in the chest, slamming my teeth together. He basically said the same thing last night, but for some reason it still hurt like a knife wound.

  “Do not lie to me, old friend, or yourself.”

  “Rudy,” Scrooge growled.

  “I have tried before. It is pointless.”

  “It’s our last chance.”

  Rudy bowed his head, his horns creating shadows over the wall. “Fine.” He shuffled back on his feet, then he came to a stop, his head jerking toward the window, his ears swiveling, his nose twitching.

  “What?” Scrooge tracked his gaze with panic. I followed the view out the window, not seeing anything but trees and snow, shadowed deeply in the night.

  “No.” Rudy breathed out, his eyes going wide. “There’s no way.”

  “What?” Scrooge demanded, stirring Hare in the chair near me.

  “He found us.” Rudy shook his head in denial, staring at the window. “I don’t know how, but he did.”

  “Who?” Even in the dark I could see Scrooge’s outline stiffen, his head snapping back to the window.

  Rudy jerked back to Scrooge, his mouth opening to respond.

  Boom!

  A clatter arose from the roof, bolting me to my feet with a yelp. Everyone sprang awake around me.

  “What the fuck?” Hare snapped, glaring around at the room. “What’s going on?”

  “We have to go! Now!” Rudy motioned for everyone. Panic leaped my heart up my throat.

  “What the Christmas pudding is happening?” Dum leaped off the sofa, his sister crashing into him as she followed, rubbing her eyes.

  Bang! Bang! Bang!

  The house shook as thuds rang from above us; the roof cracked with weight, crumbling pieces down on us.

  “Come out, come out, Rudy… Come play with us.” A voice echoed from above, taunting and spiteful.

  “Who is that?” I gulped, feeling panic bounce my legs.

  Crash!

  The front window exploded and splintered into pieces as a huge chunk of coal spun by me. Shards of glass darted at me like bullets, slicing at my skin. A cry broke over my lips; my legs dropped to the ground, and I covered my head as the glass daggers tore through my flesh. The warm sting of blood dripped down my temple.

  “Alice!” I heard my name being yelled before a heavy mass knocked into mine. Arms came around me, covering my body as more glass and bullets shot through the room. He hissed in pain, tucking me firmer into his chest, his warm skin and intoxicating smell blanketing me in a bubble. I held on to him until the assault quieted, glass sprinkling down on us.

  Scrooge lifted his head, his gaze frantically moving over me. “Are you okay?”

  “Y-Yeah.” I nodded, not sure if that was the truth. “Are you?”

  He stared at me, something I couldn’t decipher dashing through his expression too quickly to grasp.

  “Scrooge!” Hare hollered. “Not the time to dip your wick. We’ve got to go.”

  “Follow me.” Scrooge sat back, purging the heat of his skin from mine, leaving me cold for the first time here. Grabbing my arm, he kept us both low, crawling over the glass, our blood smearing over the white rug.

  “Penguin! Get down,” he growled at his friend, but Penguin continued to stand there, pointing a fin out the windowless frame. I jerked to look at what he was staring at.

  “Holy shit,” I muttered.

  Hundreds of toy soldiers moved toward the cabin, armed and coming for us. But it was the humongous man who stood front and center, his antlers towering into the frozen trees like spikes, his body ripped with so much muscle, similar to some steroid douchebag. His naked chest was strapped with weapons and grenades, resembling a Rambo-deer, ready to hunt humans as his prey.

  His scarred face was wider and far less pretty than Rudy’s, his sneer reflecting in his dark eyes. “Ru-dy… Don’t you want to come out and play a game with me?”

  Scrooge grabbed Penguin, pulled me up, and shoved us into the kitchen along with the rest of the group. His Adam’s apple bobbed as he stepped in front of me.

  “Who the hell is that?” I hissed, feeling ice slither up my spine.

  “That is—”

  “Blitzen.” Rudy snarled.

  His name rang fear through the group as if Rudy had declared Blitzen the next Voldemort.

  “No. No…” Dee stepped back, tears watering her eyes, her expression pinched in panic. Dum swallowed, terror locking him in place as Penguin sang “Up on the Housetop” as he hit his fins against his sides, pacing in circles.

  “What?” Alarm beat at my chest louder than my heart. “What is going on?”

  “Do you have any weapons hidden away?” Scrooge spoke to Rudy, but his attention was locked on the figures outside the window. The soldiers lined up behind Blitzen like he was their leader.

  “Only a few under the floorboards in the kitchen behind the bottles,” Rudy responded, nodding to the floor in the kitchen. “But nothing that can take on all of them. There should have been no way they found us.”

  “Well, they did.” Scrooge moved to the spot in the floor. “Hare!” He called to his buddy as he squatted down, ripping up the floorboards.

  “It’s not going to be enough.” The deer turned to Scrooge.

  “Do you have another plan?” Crates of bottles jangled together as Scrooge tossed them up on the planks from the secret hiding place. Hare jumped down in the hidey-hole, searching for the items behind.

  “Yes.” Rudy rolled back his shoulders, his jaw cracking.

  Scrooge paused, staring up at his friend.

  “Oh. Fuck. No.”

  “We have no choice.”

  “No.” Scrooge shook his head, taking the candy cane guns Hare passed up to him. “We’ll figure out something else.”

  “What?” Again, the question bubbled from my throat, frustration raising my voice. “Someone talk to me now. Tell me what’s going on,” I yelled, feeling the panic rattle my muscles, but I had no reference as to why I should be so petrified.

  “H-He’s the one who tracked us down… captured us...” Dee whimpered, staring out the window, her explanation falling away.

  Penguin chirped with terror, the song frantically coming out of his mouth, his fins beating faster.

  “And?” I knew there must be a lot more to the story. Dread climbed up my spine at the noises coming from outside—men calling out, guns clicking. “Scrooge!” I pinned my irritation on him.

  He laid a candy can gun on the floor that Hare handed up to him, his eyes peering up at me intensely.

  “Blitzen…” He took a breath, his gaze darting to Penguin, Dee, and Dum, and a flicker of grief and guilt twitched his eyes. “Let’s say he enjoys his job. Tracking.”

  “He was always envious of me, always wanting what I had. His jealousy twisted him. When sides were divided, he went with her,” Rudy explained. “He’s the Queen’s tracker now. But he doesn’t stop at capture. He torments… makes them suffer. Cruelly.”

  “Let’s say he has a deep masochistic side,” Scrooge finished, grabbing another weapon Hare gave him.

  I viewed Dee, watching the pure horror dance on her face. “Oh god. He did that… not the Queen.” I nodded at her scars.

  Dee turned away, her hands at her chest like she was trying to hold her heart back from breaking through.

  “She watched, but yes, he was the one who actually tortured us. Privately and publicly.” Dum’s voice shook.

  Penguin twittered, the song sounding more like a spine-chilling chant.

  “Shit! This is all you have? Four guns and a handful of ammunition?” Scrooge yelled out right as another spray of bullets volleyed into the room. With a cry, I hit the floor, grabbing Penguin and Dee and pulling them under the table.

  “I told you.” Rudolph and Dum slipped behind a counter, ducking in back of it. Rudy’s eyes darted to the window over the kitchen sink; shadows moved across it.

  Shit. They were surrounding the cabin.
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  “Ru-dyyyyy…” Blitzen sang out, making goosebumps cover my skin. “Come on, beloved pet. Afraid to fight me? Everyone will see what I’ve always known. You are nothing special. I have no idea why he preferred you. You are nothing but ordinary, pathetic, and weak.” Every word Blitzen spoke oozed with cankerous resentment.

  “We have you surrounded. This will be the easiest capture I’ve ever done, so you might as well come out. The more you resist, the more I hurt your friends,” he gleefully crooned. He waited a few beats before speaking again. “Is that a no? I should have known you’d take the cowardly way. Even Clarice saw you for who you really were and ran to my bed. Damn, how I can make her bay. She’s a wild one. Have antler and hoof marks all down my back to prove it.”

  Rudy jerked, gripping the counter to pull himself up, anger flaring his nose.

  “No.” Scrooge waggled his head, clutching Rudolph’s arm. “Don’t let him get to you. You know he’s trying to provoke you.”

  Rage pumped through Rudolph, his feature shifting more to animal than man. “Let go.”

  “You’re giving him what he wants.”

  “Doesn’t. Matter. Do you have a better plan?” Rudy clipped out each syllable, waiting for Scrooge to respond. “He’s right. There’s no other way.”

  “No. Rudy,” Dee pleaded as he stood up. “Please. Don’t go.”

  He tilted his head, a softness licking at his expression before he shook it off. “I must.” His long lashes skimmed his cheeks. “This has been coming for a while. I can no longer run from it.”

  “Rudy,” Penguin cried.

  “I will distract him. You run.” He scanned over us before landing back on Scrooge. “Mount Crumpit. You will find what you are seeking there.”

  “Hell.” Scrooge swore under his breath. The name Mount Crumpit sounded familiar, but I couldn’t remember how I knew it.

  “Mount Crumpit? Are you fucking kidding me?” Hare leaped out of the hole, his mouth falling open.

  Dee’s hand came down on mine, fright curling her nails into my palm.

  “I’m done waiting!” Blitzen hollered, his voice slicing through the broken window. “Soldiers, on my mark.”

  “No!” Rudy yelled. “Stop! I’m coming out.” He turned to us. “Go!” Then in a blink he changed completely into a reindeer, his hooves cracking over the broken glass as he ran, leaping through the front window.

  “Mount Crumpit? He’s kidding, right?” Hare grabbed a candy gun, filling it with coal bullets.

  “I wish,” Scrooge replied, taking the purse of pellets from him.

  “We might as well die here. Would be a lot more pleasant.”

  More pleasant? What the hell? What was this place?

  “You might get your wish.” Scrooge scooped up the other two weapons, tossing one to me and Dee.

  “Hey, where’s mine?” Dum pointed at his twin. “You gave her one.”

  “She’s a hell of a better shot than you.” Scrooge nodded at Dee, making her cheeks turn a violent pink. “I need you and Penguin to do something else.”

  “What?” Dum stood up, his head still below the counter line.

  Scrooge peered down at the crates of alcohol, his brows pinching as if he were in pain.

  “Oh fuuuuucckkk no. Huge no.” Hare fervently shook his head, panic lighting up his eyes. “Absolutely not. Might as well cut off my other foot. Just shoot me here.”

  “I don’t want to any more than you do… believe me.” Scrooge loaded his gun with coal, tossing the bag to me. “But Rudy can only distract one. There is still a troop out there ready to put bullets in us.”

  “But… but…” Hare motioned to the crate, his lip puckering in a pout, plummeting dread to my stomach.

  Oh no. Not that. Not the beautiful, yummy alcohol.

  Scrooge motioned to Penguin and Dum. “Light this place up like a frickin’ Christmas tree.”

  Chapter 17

  Vanilla, mulled wine, honey, and cinnamon danced around me like a seductress. The rug under my knees was soaked with alcohol. The sweet smell of Christmas wafted up my noise, making my stomach growl and mouth water. I was pretty sure I whimpered as more and more was dumped through the room; I wanted one more taste. Hell, I was about to lick it off the floor.

  Loud bangs, sounding like horns locking, echoed from the night sky. The soldiers moved in, the asshole toy general leading the assault on the small cabin.

  Crouched behind the overturned sofa, Hare, Scrooge, Dee, and I shot at the mass descending on us like brain-eating zombies.

  “Hurry!” Scrooge snarled over his shoulder at Dum and Pen.

  “We are, Mr. Scrooge.” Penguin declared. “I’m helping spread it.”

  “No, you aren’t. You’re just sitting there,” Dum yelled back. My head turned over my shoulder.

  Penguin sat in a puddle of liquor, swirled the tips of his flippers around him in an arc, then licked it off. Giggling quietly and repeating the process, he hummed, “Run, Rudolph, run.”

  “See?” Dum motioned to the flightless bird as he took a double swig before pouring a little more on the floor. “He’s not helping at all.”

  A zip of a bullet sang through the room, burying itself in the wall right behind Dum’s head.

  “Holy Santa’s sleigh!” Dum’s eyes widened as he hopped around in place, taking another drink instead of actually moving.

  “Get down, Dum-Puck!” Scrooge yelled, growling under his breath. “This is why I have your sister handle the weapons.”

  Dee, the Elf-inator, sat next to me refilling her gun. Her face was savage as she shot every bullet straight into her target without a pause. Ruthless. When she was in this mode, she scared even me.

  “We do this now or I’m joining them, and you’ll have three drunk assholes to carry.” Hare fired his last shot, tossing the gun to the side.

  “Get those two to the kitchen window,” Scrooge ordered Hare. “There will be fewer guards out the back. Be ready.”

  Hare nodded, swiping a bottle as he pulled Penguin and Dum with him to the rear of the house.

  “Dee, go with them.” Scrooge flicked his head. She bowed her head and retreated to the kitchen without a word. “You too, Ms. Liddell.”

  “No,” I argued, watching the wooden men about to reach the window. A few stumbled as they tried to get their straight legs to step through the opening; others crashed against the front door. “I’m staying with you.”

  “Go now!” he demanded. “I don’t need you on my conscience too.”

  “No!” I shouted, slamming my hand onto the floor. “I told you before… I’m not going to leave you. So stop fighting me.”

  His head snapped to me. Our eyes collided like crashing trains. A sensation slammed into me, forcing a gasp in my throat. As if the entire world was hazed and put on mute, all I saw was his penetrating gaze. Raw grief and longing searched mine, like I was all he wanted, could dare hope for.

  Then it was gone.

  He snarled, turning away from me, blasting his gun at the men climbing through the window. Commotion swirled around us. Sounds of screams, bullets, and the crunching of glass drenched the room.

  “You still have any bullets?” he asked roughly, his lip still in a sneer.

  “Two left.” I peered into the chamber, panic wobbling my voice. The soldiers were inside, only feet away.

  “Give it to me.” He reached for the gun. “Grab my jacket,” he shouted, pointing at it, his regard sliding to the fireplace. I knew without another word what he wanted me to do.

  I moved swiftly, his last few bullets covering me as I swiped up his jacket. It smelled of him, which made me want to cuddle it to my body, to keep it. Ignoring the impulse, I snatched a bottle left on the floor, pouring it on the jacket before leaping to the fire, shoving the arm of the coat in the flames.

  Whoosh!

  Flames engulfed the coat; the blaze drank up the liquor as if it couldn’t get enough either.

  “Fire!” A few guards screamed as I flung
the coat on the alcohol-soaked rug.

  Flames roared up, devouring everything in their path; the heat burned my skin. Shrill shrieks from the sentinels crackled along with the fire, which hungrily exploded, gobbling up the whiskey and moving on to them as the main course.

  “Alice!” Scrooge grabbed my arm, pulling me back. The fuel soaked the living room floor, moving the fire toward us.

  “Hare! Now,” he yelled, pulling me with him as we ran.

  Glass shattered, spraying out into the night as Hare tossed an empty bottle through the large window. Then he and the twins leaped through. Scrooge picked up Penguin and tossed him through the opening before turning to me, his hand clutching my waist.

  It really wasn’t the moment to think about how his hands felt on my body, clutching my hips roughly, but damn, my mind always had the worst, most inappropriate timing. He helped get me on the sink, and I jumped, once again shoeless. My feet sank into the snow; glass and rocks sliced into my toes.

  The dozens of soldiers around the back moved for us, yelling at their comrades to join them.

  “Hare,” Scrooge called to the figure hopping and darting between the guards, confusing the hell out of them. As if they coordinated this, Hare took the bottle cap off the liquor, splashing it on the few close to him, as Scrooge shot coal at the wooden figures.

  My eyes squinted watching the whistle of fire igniting the forest with a burst of light as the coal rubbed itself against the wood and alcohol and flickered to life. Their panicked wails ricocheted off the forest, making the trees appear as though they were screaming in horror.

  “Move!” Scrooge shoved us forward, snatching up Penguin under his arm, ready to run down the field and score a touchdown. Poor Penguin. His little legs couldn’t even keep up with us on flat ground, but the calf-deep snow would have immobilized him.

  Bullets splintered the bark next to my head, forcing me to run hunched over, zigzagging through the maze of trees, dashing away from the few soldiers daring to chase us.

  A loud crack caused me to swivel my head, my legs pumping forward, my mouth parting in utter awe.