Malice in Wonderland Bundle 3

by Lotus Rose

  “I think so,” Humpty says to Malice. “He merely knocked the wind out of me.”

  “What’s a kiss-cuckold?” Hatter says. “A type of chicken?”

  Malice turns to glare at him. “No, it’s not a kind of chicken, you brutish troglodyte. It means you couldn’t stand seeing me kiss Humpty, and so you lashed out with violence like the vindictive clod you are.” She turns back to Humpty. “There, there, sweety, you just lie there until you’re ready. Don’t let the bad man scare you.”

  Hatter murmurs, “I was trying to stop you from transferring the black rose to him, don’t you see? Hopefully, I ended the kiss soon enough. Oh dear, oh dear. And I’m not referring to the four-legged creatures with antlers.”

  “We kissed,” Humpty says with an alarmed expression as he looks into Malice’s eyes.

  “Bugger and blast. I’m sorry you found my kiss so deplorable.”

  “It’s not that,” Humpty says. “It’s just...” His jaw hangs open, with him not being able to say more.

  Typical Humpty, Malice thinks to herself.

  “Wait!” Hatter says. He kneels next to her. “You’ve been speaking English.” He nudges his chin down to Humpty. “Sorry mate, seems I gave you a bit of a rough shove.”

  Malice shouts to Hatter, “Of course I’ve been speaking English, you fiend!”

  “Quite understandable under the circumstances,” Humpty says to Hatter.

  Hatter says to Malice, “So you don’t fancy yourself to be a chicken?”

  Malice turns her head to scowl at him. “What? Of course not, you cad!”

  Hatter says, “So perhaps the shock of my tackle snapped you out of the hypnosis, or it simply wore off.”

  Malice returns her attention to Humpty, who is touching his lips with his fingertips, so she asks him, “What are you doing?”

  “My lips, they’re tingling.”

  “The black rose,” Hatter mutters.

  Humpty’s eyes go wide in alarm and he jolts upright to a sitting position. “What’s going to happen to me?”

  Malice says, “You’ll become a bit intoxicated, but don’t worry, I’m sure you got a low dose, since Froud already drained a lot of the strength already.”

  “Oh, dear,” Humpty says. “Listen, Malice, that— What happened was a mistake. I wasn’t myself.”

  Malice scowls. “So you regret it.”

  “No, of course not, I mean to say, it just wasn’t proper, what with us being hypnotized and all.”

  In her side vision, Malice sees Hatter standing up.

  Malice says, “Froud said hypnosis can’t make you do what you don’t actually want to do in the first place.”

  “I don’t think those were his exact words,” Humpty mutters, with a blush forming on his cheek.

  “Well, don’t kiss again,” Hatter says, as Humpty starts to get up.

  “Why?” Malice says, “Because it would drive you mad with jealousy?”

  Humpty rises to a full upright position, and Malice rises as well.

  “Just don’t want the lad to get too much of the black rose,” Hatter mutters.

  Humpty swoons, “Whoa,” he says, and Malice places her hands on the sides of his arms to steady him— “There there,” she soothes.

  The Cat says, “I personally, would like to see him get more of that stuff. Might loosen him up, make him less of a boring prude.”

  “I feel a bit... peculiar,” Humpty says.

  “Quick, kiss him again!” the Cat goads.

  Malice shoots him a look, before looking down. “I’m feeling a bit odd myself,” she mutters. She presses her hand to her chest to feel the combination of coldness and a weak heartbeat.

  “Oh bother,” Hatter says. “We’ll watch over you both, make sure you’re okay. Unfortunately, Froud’s distraction worked. While you two were snogging, he slipped away.”

  Malice watches as a dopey grin forms on Humpty’s face, causing her to arch her brow at him. She says, “The Knight’s gone as well. I suppose we can cross him off our list of potential team members.”

  A thoughtful expression forms on Humpty’s face.

  “Oh, what now?” Malice prods.

  Humpty says:

  “The Knight shall not go on our quest.

  His bravery is not the best,

  He’d scream and turn white as a sheet,

  If ever a little girl, he’d meet.”

  The Cat groans. “Great. Another poet. They grow like weeds!”

  Humpty giggles.

  “He’s lambasted,” Hatter says.

  “Makes me yearn for some catnip,” the Cat says.

  “I’m envious,” says Malice. “For I fear that each time I was kissed, it robbed me of the levels of black rose within me. Also, it’s been several hours since my last dose, so a lot of its effects are wearing off. I fear my heart may be malfunctioning again, for I can feel my old feelings of viciousness returning.”

  “Oh, dear,” Hatter says. “We must return to the castle at once, so you can take more.”

  Malice snarls at him and points. “You! Don’t act like you’re oh-so-kind and caring! You tackled Humpty, and—”

  “Please,” Humpty says in that infuriatingly meek manner of his, “Calm yourself.”

  “Oh, shut up, Humpty!” She creeps toward Hatter. “You tackled him, and don’t try to pretend you weren’t doing it out of jealousy.” She stands in front of Hatter now. “So, I’m going to give you what you deserve!” She raises her hand to slap his face, and Hatter cringes.

  “What are you doing?” Humpty shouts.

  Malice stays her hand, holding it in the air while looking at it in confusion, disturbed by what she was about to do.

  “Go ahead,” Hatter says quietly. “I deserve it.”

  Well you asked for it. Her hand rears back slightly in preparation. But there is a part inside of her that stops her, even though she’s furious with him and wants to make him hurt for hurting Humpty.

  “Don’t do it,” Humpty says. “Please.”

  Hatter is standing still, not defending himself. She meets his eyes and can see the fear there, which he’s trying to hide. Fear of what? Not her slap, no. He fears that she might be losing control again, that must be it.

  “Please don’t,” the Cat says. “I don’t like to see my friends hurt each other.” Malice has learned that, though the Cat likes gore and violence, he doesn’t like to see his friends fighting or hurt in a serious way. And, though he likes drama between his friends, he doesn’t like it to go too far.

  Malice lowers her hand and lets out a breath of air. “Sorry. I lost my temper. Hatter, I know you were trying to help us when we were acting weirdly whilst under hypnosis.”

  Hatter says, “It was a tense situation, quite understandable if it upset you.”

  Malice smiles at him and laughs, but she feels both gestures must seem nervous and forced. “I just need to get home and take some more black rose. I think its calming effects have been good for me. I’d almost forgotten how I used to be without it.” She gives another laugh that comes out sounding uncomfortable in her ears.

  “You were beastly without it,” the Cat mutters under his breath.

  “Yes, well...” Malice says, trying to keep her composure. “All the more reason for me to partake of the black rose. Now...” she addresses Hatter, “did you see an exit back there?”

  “Yes, and both the Knight and Froud must’ve gone through it. I imagine they must be long gone by now.”

  “Very well,” Malice says. “We can exit and circle back around to retrieve my dress, then head back to the castle, where I shall partake of a little black rose to revitalize myself. Oh, and before I forget, I must take this blasted thing off!”

  She rips the mustache off. There is a bit of a delayed reaction, three seconds or so, before she squeals in pain.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE

  BACK AT THE CASTLE, Malice attempts to spend some time with Humpty, but he begs off, saying he wants to be alone. She had bee
n hoping that the Black Rose Kiss would loosen him up, but instead he seems sullen and embarrassed, and after grabbing some paper and water, he leaves the castle to she knows not where. Soon after, Malice is informed that another note awaits her, sent by another mysterious carrier pigeon. She retreats to the writing desk in her chambers to read it in private, but not without first partaking of some of the black rose’s solace. It gives her the courage to read:

  For Queen (M)alice’s eyes only.

  I see that you have not smashed the statue yet. This pleases me greatly. Surely you realize that the longer you allow the statue to remain, the more of a fixture it shall become. With each day that passes, it grows more and more beloved. I’m sure you are becoming more used to it as well, and more resigned to its existence.

  Why, it shall become a permanent fixture, an unending, silent mockery that only you comprehend! You dare not ever reveal its true nature, because of course you must save face. So instead, you shall have to gaze upon the face of the statue, so serene and noble that it puts the real thing to shame. Wouldn’t you love to smash it to bits with a mallet? And yet, you are too afraid to do so. Because people would gossip, wouldn’t they?

  Oh, and I know of your fondness for the black rose. Soon you won’t be able to quit it. What if I told you, that by smashing the statue, I shall reveal where you can find more? Hmm?

  Ah, the delectable torture of my plan grows! With that, I shall leave you in suspense. I continue to hope, in my solitude, awaiting you from afar, praying you shall one day come to me and release me from my prison.

  Until then, I can only speak to you through these messages, my dearest little queen (M)alice.

  SINCERELY,

  He whose heart you hold captive

  P.S. I SUGGEST YOU burn this message after reading.

  MALICE SCREAMS AND rips the note into pieces.

  She finds it all quite insulting, and wonders who this “secret admirer”—more like “secret stalker”—could be? The Queen of Hearts? Well, she’s imprisoned in the dungeon with supposedly no contact with the outside. So, perhaps it’s a sympathizer of the Queen of Hearts. Or it’s the Snark or someone working for him, like the former Cook. Who knows? Maybe it’s Morley, or someone else she wouldn’t immediately suspect, toying around with her and seeking petty revenge without ever revealing themself.

  Well, she refuses to fall for whoever-it-is’s obvious ploy to make her lose her composure and destroy the statue, with the obvious goal of making her look like some sort of unraveled weakling. After all, she is in control of her emotions, thanks to the black rose.

  Yes, the black rose—the note had mentioned it, obviously appealing to her desire for it.

  Ha ha, it might have worked if I hadn’t just planted a whole bunch of seeds, so I shall have plenty if I ever need them, which I probably won’t. I don’t think I’ll need the black rose anymore—it helped me through the hard times, but I’m past that now, and I can cope just fine now without it.

  She sets the note aflame and goes about her business.

  Her guards inform her that Sleepy B has spoken to her father. He gave her permission to go on the quest, but refuses to reinstate Sleepy B’s storytelling powers. Malice only hopes the girl doesn’t turn out to be more trouble than she’s worth. It’s just another matter to add to the pile weighing on Malice’s mind. She is also concerned with the Jabberwock and getting to the bottom of what he knows—no more evasions.

  Another one of her chores, before leaving on the quest, is to talk to the Tweedle twins to see if they want to come along—Malice decides she shall talk to the Jabberwock tomorrow, during the trip to the twins’ tree.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX

  THEY’RE WALKING ALONG a trail in the forest, heading to the oak tree where the Tweedles spend most of their time, bickering.

  Malice had asked the Jabberwock to come with her—just him alone, because, frankly, she’d like to to talk to him. Also, it would’ve been awkward to invite Humpty, because he’s been avoiding her, it seems, ever since he received the Black Rose Kiss. He’s still going on the quest though, so they’ll have lots of time to get comfortable around each other, again.

  Malice stops walking. “Jabby, we need to talk.”

  The Jabberwock sighs, but it doesn’t sound quite right—which Malice figures is due to the fact that his severed head is not connected to lungs. He stops walking and says, “About?”

  “I recently spent quite a distressing bit of time with Froud. He had a lot to say on the subject of little-girls-goodbyes. He seemed quite knowledgeable on the subject, even sang us a few.”

  The Jabberwock groans. “Those songs are for children. You shouldn’t put too much stock in them.”

  “And yet Froud seemed to think there was a great deal of truth in them. Even the Knight was familiar with many of the songs—songs that you’ve never mentioned.”

  “Well we haven’t known each other very long.”

  Malice holds up her hand to silence him. “I asked the others—Humpty, Hatter, the Cat. You’ve rarely if ever talked to them about them.”

  “It’s...not something I like to talk about.”

  “Why do you not fly, Jabby? Is it true that none of the jabberwocks can fly?”

  “Aye.” He tilts his head to look down at the ground.

  “Why can’t they?”

  He shrugs the Horseman Body’s shoulders. “Our wings just aren’t capable.”

  Malice sighs. “Jabby...” she prods in a gentle voice. “Honey...I hate to make you uncomfortable, but if we’re going to go on this quest and visit Jabberwock Valley, I need to be informed. I’ll respect your privacy and won’t tell the others unless you give me permission, but I’m the Queen, and the leader of this group—I don’t want my ignorance to compromise our quest. Do you agree?”

  The Jabberwock sighs, but nods his head. “Aye.” He raises his head to look Malice in the eyes. “The reason the jabberwocks can no longer fly is a great shame of my monsters.”

  “Your monsters?”

  “We say ‘my monsters’ like humans say, ‘my people’.”

  “Oh.”

  “So, a long time ago, a bunch of human-sized little girls were banished from...” He thinks for a moment, with his brow furrowed.

  “From where?”

  “I can’t seem to recall right now, for some reason. But the basic fact was that they were banished and they moved to Jabberwock Valley. When they got to the valley, they so much wanted to be big girls, that they used magic to transform themselves into giants. And then the giant little girls captured the jabberwocks and kept them as pets.”

  “Oh, dear,” Malice says. “How big were the jabberwocks, in comparison with the giant little girls?”

  “The jabberwocks were the same size we are today. But in comparison to the giant little girls, we were like little lap dogs.”

  “Awww how cute!”

  The Jabberwock scowls.

  “Sorry, didn’t mean to offend your monsterliness.”

  “Okay. Unfortunately, that was part of the problem.”

  “What was?”

  “The cutesiness factor.”

  “Pray tell, what is that?”

  “I’ll get to that. The little girls treated the jabberwocks like we were little cats or doggies.” He sneers. “And, though the jabberwocks could fly back then, precautions were taken to prevent our escape, like closing the windows of their houses.”

  “Oh my!”

  “Indeed! The jabberwocks resented no longer being wild monsters who could fly free, but, well, they became domesticated, I suppose.”

  “Did the jabberwocks hate the giant little girls?”

  “Well, not at first—they gave my monsters food after all. But I think the jabberwocks resented them for limiting their freedom.”

  “Well that’s understandable. I quite fancy freedom myself.”

  “But over time, the resentment grew. Even from the beginning, the jabberwocks were forced to sleep beneath the beds of
the giant little girls, and never allowed to sleep on them.”

  “Oh, how dreadful! Why, the top is the softest part!”

  “Quite.”

  “Why did the girls do that?”

  “Maybe they did it to prove to themselves that they were no longer afraid of monsters under the bed. Or maybe they did it to mock my monsters, to show that they were no longer concerned with having jabberwocks under their bed, because they were no longer proper monsters, no longer scary.”

  “Oh. That would be a terrible thing for a monster to have to endure.”

  “And there were more atrocities. The giant little girls would dress the jabberwocks in all these colorful, cutesy, frilly clothes!”

  Malice gasps. “Deplorable.”

  “Yes, and as time went on, it grew worse and worse. And my monsters’ resentment grew and turned into hatred, and there was talk of revolt, but compared to the giant little girls’ size, the jabberwocks were like...” He’s thinking of what to say.

  “Lapdogs,” Malice offers.

  “Well lapdogs aren’t fierce warriors, but there was also the fact that the giant little girls had taken away the jabberwocks’ vorpal blades, so they weren’t as fierce warriors as before...”

  “Maybe they were like bobcats.”

  The Jabberwock thinks. “Perhaps so. In any case, long story short, the jabberwocks decided they no longer wanted to be pets, but the giant little girls didn’t want to set them free. So the jabberwocks got together and revolted. And there was a great war between the jabberwocks and the giant little girls.”

  “Crikey!”

  “Yes, it was a dark time. The two sides fought, and many lives were lost. In fact, each side was in danger of being wiped out completely!”

  “That’s horrible!” Malice exclaims.

  “Indeed, imagine if my monsters had been wiped out. Why, I wouldn’t be the one standing here telling you this legend today!”

  Malice thinks upon that, but feels confused.