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Malice in Wonderland Bundle 3

Page 20

by Lotus Rose


  She hears the Knight mutter, “Oh dear, oh dear. That face. No offense, Queen. I’m sure it’s generally accepted to be quite lovely. It just triggers my phobia. Enough dallying. I can do this. I am brave. I am the Knight.” His voice is shaking. And now she feels something sticky and hairy pressed above her lip. The Knight is pressing the mustache on with trembling fingertips. “Please keep your eyes closed until I tell you,” the Knight whispers. His hands cease touching her face, and she feels the mustache sticking above her mouth.

  Malice resists the urge to wriggle her lips. She hears what sounds like the Knight stepping to the side.

  “Hey!” Humpty shouts, and suddenly Malice feels something soft and fleshy press against her lips.

  A kiss?!

  Her eyes open wide in alarm.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

  MALICE SEES NOT THE Knight, but Froud in front of her, backing away after having kissed her, and in reflexive outrage she slaps him hard across the face.

  “How dare you!” she shouts.

  The Knight shouts to Froud, “You cad! You didn’t tell me you were gonna do that!”

  Froud cackles creepily as he moves toward the stock of weapons—it’s as if the slap didn’t affect him at all, despite the glowing red skin of his cheek, as he says, “I stole her kiss!”

  “But it means nothing!” Malice shouts. “It wasn’t given willingly.” She watches as Froud turns to face the stash of weapons and runs toward them.

  The Knight shouts, “Foul villainous fiend! You’re nothing more than a pervert who sought a kiss that wasn’t freely given to you!” He pulls his sword free from his scabbard.

  “He wanted to feel like me,” Hatter says.

  Malice turns to look at him. “What?” she says.

  “He wanted the Black Rose Kiss!” Humpty exclaims.

  “That is a correct analysis!” Froud exclaims. He picks up one of the swords from the weapons rack—a short sword—it sways a little from side to side in an awkward fashion.

  “You scoundrel!” the Knight shouts. “I thought you were an honorable man...er, gnome.”

  Froud puts his other hand around the handle to steady his grip. “Ah, I can feel it coming on now. The delectable madness. But it’s not quite divine. Not yet.”

  Hatter looks at him questioningly. “Huh?”

  Froud points the sword at him. “Soon I shall be even madder than you!” He laughs a bit madly.

  The Knight shouts at Froud, “You scoundrel! Apologize to My Queen at once for assaulting her virtue!”

  “Yes!” Malice shouts. “And apologize for stealing the Black Rose Kiss. You’re a fool, for now I shall see you in my dungeon.”

  Froud giggles quite a bit insanely, says, “You think I’ve gone amiss, by stealing the Black Rose Kiss? But soon I shall be in bliss, from the divine mad...niss.”

  “Oh, splendid,” the Cat says. “Another poet. Now all we need is Morley to poke his pink head in.”

  Malice says to Froud, “Your bad poetry was not an apology. And your perversity shall bring your eulogy! Oh, dear, it seems I’m rhyming as well!” She points at Froud. “Lay down your weapon and surrender, and perhaps I shall be lenient in your punishment.”

  Froud shakes his sword at everyone and growls. “Stay back! All of you! Or I’ll cut you into more pieces than a split personality case.”

  Malice has no idea what he’s talking about, and looks to Humpty and Hatter. Hatter shrugs and Humpty shakes his head.

  The Knight, meanwhile, is focused on Froud. “Rapscallion!” he shouts and shakes his sword. “Lay down your weapon and give yourself up peacefully.”

  Froud shakes his head. “That would be an irrational action on my part. Though, on second thought, I actually want the opposite of rationality. In either case, I shan’t put my weapon down.”

  The Knight says, “I don’t want to have to harm you. You’ve aided my mental state such a great deal...”

  Malice says to Froud, “You want the opposite of rationality? What do you mean? It seems rather unbecoming for a therapist...”

  “He wants madness,” Hatter says. “Something I know quite well.”

  Froud cackles several moments too long, seeming quite unhinged. “Yes, my simple, mental patient, I want what you have, and more. I want the divine madness.”

  “Morley talks about that a lot,” Humpty says.

  “Morley talks too much, methinks,” says the Cat.

  The Knight looks at Malice and says, “Shall I capture him, Your Highness? I mean to say, do you prefer him alive or dead?”

  Froud throws his head back and laughs in a sinister manner. “You are mistaken to think you can take me at all.”

  “Alive, I should hope,” Malice says in response to the Knight’s question.

  Froud points at Malice and says to the Knight, “She is your true enemy, for she hides the little girl inside her.”

  The Knight whimpers, but puts on a brave face again. “I— must capture you...for My Queen.”

  Froud locks eyes with the Knight. “Don’t trust her. She’s a little girl pretending to be a queen. That’s according to my expert analysis. But don’t fret. She had me fooled as well, for quite some time.”

  The Knight looks at Malice with his mouth twerking side to side in his worry. “Is it true?”

  Malice stomps her foot and gives forth a shout of indignation. “This is preposterous! I—”

  Froud cuts her off. “It’s true. Remember our therapy sessions?”

  “Which one?” the Knight says.

  Froud answers, “The hypnosis treatment. When I count down to 0, you shall reenter the hypnotic state. 3, 2, 1.” He snaps his fingers. The Knight’s posture goes rigid and he stares blankly straight ahead.

  “What are you doing to him?” Hatter shouts.

  “I’ve hypnotized him several times,” Froud says, “as a part of his therapy. Unfortunately, I was never able to do the same with you—some people can’t be hypnotized!”

  “Snap out of it!” Malice shouts at the Knight. “Place Froud under arrest. Oiy! You, Knight, stop being hypnotized!”

  But the Knight doesn’t even flinch, just stares creepily ahead.

  Malice steps toward the Knight, determined to shake him out of it, or maybe even slap some sense into him if she can persuade him to lean his face down within reach.

  But when she is halfway there, Froud blurts, “When I snap my fingers, you’ll see Malice in her true form—as a little girl.” And he snaps his fingers.

  The Knight shrieks and is trembling violently now. “Back! Get back!”

  “What?!” Malice says. She takes a few steps backward, and looks to Hatter and Humpty, who are staring at the Knight with their mouths hanging open.

  “Stay with me!” Froud shouts to the Knight, because he looks like he’s about to flee. “Remember your calming exercises! Remember to breathe!”

  The Knight takes a deep breath.

  Malice says, “No need to be afraid. Because, I am not a little girl!” She stomps her foot and pouts severely.

  Froud points at her, says, “Don’t believe her. She’s a pathological liar, and I say this as a trained psychiatrist. But we can make good of this situation. Think of it as a test of your coping skills, part of your desensitization. Do not fear her...”

  “That’s right,” Malice says, putting on her best charming smile. “No need to be afraid of little ol’ me.”

  The Knight looks at her doubtfully, and cocks his head to the side, says, “Why shouldn’t I fear you, when...” He gestures with his sword up and down towards her. “You’re so girly and littlely.”

  Froud says, “As frightening as she is, you can fend her off, with your sword, and the coping tools we have practiced together.”

  “This nonsense,” Hatter shouts, “has gone on quite long enough. Time to knock some sense into you two.” He takes some steps toward Froud while raising his fisted arms up in a most threatening manner.

  Froud waves his sword back at him.
“Eh, eh eh, that would be a most unwise decision on your part, for I shall surely skewer you without compunction.”

  Hatter looks at the sword and stops in his tracks while raising his hands in a placating gesture.

  Froud sneers at him. “Those two,” he says, while pointing with his chin at Humpty and Hatter, “are also little girls in disguise. And when I snap my fingers, you shall see their true natures.” He snaps his fingers.

  The Knight lets forth a long, shrill scream. He sways his sword back and forth at the group. “Back, you vile little cutesy monsters with your frilly dresses of doom!”

  Humpty and Hatter take a few steps back. They look down on themselves at their trousers.

  Malice gasps in mock horror. “Oh, dearest me! That’s a laugh!” She holds her left hand palm up and says, “Little girls.” She holds up her right hand to form the other side of her mimed scale. “Jabberwocks.” She moves her hands up and down, comparing their weights. “Little girl.” (left hand) then on her right hand, “Bandersnatch.” And now, she throws her hands down and declares, “Codswallop.” She crosses her arms and scowls.

  “Funny that you should compare little girls to jabberwocks,” the Knight says, “considering what they did to the jabberwocks in the past.” He sniffs. “Of course, Froud said I was being irrational, letting my fear control me. He told me that was all in the past and little girls are much sweeter now. I knew he was feeding me gobbledygook.” He shoots Froud an accusing look.

  “I apologize,” Froud says. “I didn’t recognize how truly dangerous they are, before. But now I do.”

  “What are you on about?” Malice says.

  “Vindicated!” the Knight says. “Finally!” But now his smile shifts into a frown. “But that means they’re truly the vicious monsters I thought they were. Oh me, oh my! I like my arms! I can’t possibly fend them all off! There are three of them!”

  “He’s gone mental,” the Cat remarks. He’s floating partway between the two groups, now facing Malice and the others, but he swivels back to face the Knight.

  Such a good little spectator, Malice thinks to herself. “Useless prat,” she mutters under her breath.

  Hatter holds his hands palms facing the Knight in a nonthreatening gesture. “My good fellow! I like my arms as well. It seems we have much in common!”

  The Knight shouts back, “Do not attempt to woo me with your dimples, villainous scamp. You are a vicious tiny tyke.”

  “Am I?” Hatter looks down at himself. “I just don’t see myself that way.” He looks at Humpty. “Do you?”

  Humpty says, “See you that way, or see myself that way?”

  “Either,” Hatter says.

  “Well, then, no,” Humpty answers. “I must admit, that I’m still a bit confused by the Knight’s remark about liking his arms.” He turns to look at him. “Praytell, what do you mean?”

  The Knight shrugs. “Since I haven’t got wings, little girls would tear off my arms instead. Oh dear! Now I’ve gotten that image in my head! I really think I must go!”

  “No!” Froud shouts. “Stay with the emotion. You can cope, using your techniques!”

  The Knight whimpers, but gulps and nods.

  Malice stomps her foot. “This is ridiculous! First of all, I’m not even a little girl! I passed all your little tests!”

  “She cheated!” Froud says.

  Malice gestures at Humpty and Hatter, “And these two...are blokes.”

  “Another lie,” Froud says. “They are clearly little girls. You can see with your own two eyes!

  The Knight nods at this. “Two dreadful, ferocious little girls I see with my own two peepers!”

  Malice curses to herself under her breath. “Even if we were little girls, they aren’t such dangerous creatures at all. In fact, they can be quite sweet and nice. Haven’t you been going through therapy to convince yourself of that very thing?”

  “Yes,” the Knight says, mulling it over. “During therapy, Froud told me my fears were irrational.”

  Malice nods. “Now we’re getting somewhere. Pardon my presumptions, but other than Alice snapping your neck once, has any little girl ever harmed you?”

  “You drove a stake into my heart.”

  “I was 15.”

  The Knight says, “Well, there are all the legends about vicious little girls, and especially the ghastly things they did to the jabberwocks.”

  “You should heed the lessons of history!” Froud says.

  Malice says, “You keep bringing up some dastardly things little girls did to jabberwocks. But our Jabberwock never mentioned anything of the sort. Praytell, what are you yammering about?”

  As Froud rummages in his watch pocket for some reason, the Knight says, “I don’t know why the Jabberwock never mentioned the tales and songs. Perhaps he is embarrassed or ashamed. But Froud told me to pay them no heed—that the stories were just old fables used to scare misbehaving children.”

  Malice looks to Froud to gauge his reaction.

  Froud meets her eyes and begins to swing his pocket watch on its chain back and forth, left to right.

  How curious.

  Froud says, “All the legends are true. I downplayed the risks of little girls as part of my process of opposite-therapy.” To Malice, he says, “Just watch the swaying watch—I mean, the swaying clock. It shall likely make you sleepy.”

  Now Hatter speaks up, saying, “Hold on...opposite therapy? Did you ever use that on me?”

  Froud says, “We are not concerned with you right now, and no I didn’t.”

  Hatter seems perplexed. “If it’s opposite therapy, if you say you didn’t, does that mean you did?”

  “No, you daft clod!” Froud shouts. “You know there’s a difference between being wonderfully mad and woefully stupid. You should learn it.” The whole time he’s speaking, he manages to keep the watch swinging quite rhythmically, Malice thinks. She finds the swaying motion quite calming.

  The Knight says to Froud, “So are you telling me that my fears were justified all along?”

  “Quite,” Froud says. “Malice shall tear your arms off if you let her close enough.”

  “Preposterous!” Malice blurts.

  “That would be a sight to see,” the Cat remarks.

  “You’re being excitable,” Froud says to Malice. “Focus on the watch. Let it lull you. You too, Humpty. Now, my good Knight, the reason I’m revealing this to you now, is that I judge you to be finally ready. You can face your fears. And you can fight back and bravely smite down any of these little girls should they approach you or me, right? I believe in you.”

  The Knight nods weakly and turns back to squarely face Malice and the others. “Yes, I can smite them. I have a sword, surely that will be enough?” He looks to Froud for confirmation, who nods, says, “Yes, confront your fear.”

  Malice shouts in outrage and frustration. “For the love of Pete, Knight! I’m not going to tear your arms off! I’m your friend!”

  Hatter says, “In Malice’s defense, she has never torn my arms off, though she did poison me once. But that was when she was heartless.”

  Humpty adds, “And she only killed me once, that I remember.”

  Froud notices that he has stopped swaying his watch and resumes once again.

  Malice says to Humpty, “You’re not helping. Now cease this nonsense at once, Knight! Froud is lying for some reason.” She shoots him a scowl. He gestures at the watch.

  “He wouldn’t—” the Knight says, before being cut off by the Cat saying, “She killed me once as well, she did.”

  The Cat’s about to speak more, but Malice silences him with a look.

  Froud says, “Of course, she doesn’t want to kill those two.” He points his sword at Hatter and Humpty. “They’re little girls as well. They stick together. No, little girls are the enemies of grown men and especially the jabberwocks, as you well know.”

  “Jabberwocks?!” Malice shouts. “Our Jabberwock is my friend and I am quite cordial to him. He�
�s one of my royal guard!”

  “And his wings?” the Knight says doubtfully.

  “They’re attached, you numbskull! I haven’t torn them off.”

  The Knight raises his index finger in the air. “Ah, but can he fly?”

  Malice stammers, “Well, no, but—”

  “Exactly,” the Knight says smugly.

  “But no jabberwocks can!”

  “Because of little girls!” the Knight shouts.

  Malice says, “Now you’re just being ridiculous. What did you call it? Irrational. Now little girls are the cause of all the world’s woes, is that it?”

  “Maybe,” the Knight says. “Go ask the poor jabberwocks.”

  Malice shakes her head. “Sorry, you’ve obviously fallen for a load of rubbish. Praytell, what can a little girl do to a jabberwock?”

  The Knight looks shaken up. “There are legends of what the little girls did to the jabberwocks. Horrible legends. The jabberwocks tell and sing of their woe in poems and songs. But Froud told me they were just exaggerated stories.”

  “I was protecting you,” Froud says, “until you were strong enough to know the truth, that all the stories are absolutely true, every single one of them. All those wonderful songs, those ‘little-girls-goodbyes’, are based on fact. And that makes them all the more brilliant!” He tries to clap his hands together, forgetting what he’s holding. “Oh, the black rose is helping me to fully realize the beauty and poetry of those little-girls-goodbyes! I feel moved to sing one!” He looks down at the watch twirling upon the chain before remembering himself and starting it swaying again, but since it is now both swaying and winding and unwinding, it looks more chaotic than calming.

  Humpty says, “There are little-girls-goodbyes about little girls doing things to jabberwocks?”

  “Yes, little girl!” the Knight says. “But I don’t wish to hear them at the moment.” He looks to Froud. “Please don’t sing one. For, I know you said I’m ready and such, but I feel quite certain that if I hear one of those horrible songs, in my present state, that I shall quite unravel—no offense meant to your expert therapy, of course, my good man.”

 

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