Malice in Wonderland Bundle 3

by Lotus Rose

  “It’s your heart,” the witch says.

  “You leave Humpty alone!” Sleepy B says with a scowl.

  The witch sneers at her. “You’re feisty, aren’tcha, little one? Be careful. That can get you in a lot of trouble.”

  Sleepy B says nothing to that, but she does cross her arms.

  The witch steeples her hands in front of her face. “Now, I do not wish to fight you.” The sword floats to in front of the Jabberwock, shifts to an upright position, hilt down. “Go on, take it, lad.”

  The Jabberwock grunts, grabs the sword, returns it to his scabbard.

  The witch continues, “No, if I were to kill you all, you wouldn’t be able to give me what I want, you wouldn’t be able to devote yourself to me, to pledge your heart to me...like your little friend here.” She looks at Neva and winks.

  “Oh, how I adore your winks,” Neva says.

  “Oh?” says the witch. “Here’s a two eyed wink—twice as good.” She gives a two eyed blink, causing Neva to giggle and blush.

  Humpty says, “You want us to let you enchant us in your fake version of love?”

  The witch grins at him. “I should very much like you to do so—you and the other pretty boy.” She looks at Humpty, who shrinks from her gaze. “Not so much you, monster,” she says to the Jabberwock. “And you’re too young,” she says to Sleepy B.

  “And what about me?” says the Cat.

  The witch huffs. “Where do you even keep your heart, my lovely little pussy?”

  The Cat snarls, “Up your—”

  “Don’t mind him,” Malice says. “He’s a non-interferer.”

  “Hmpph. Very well,” says the witch. “Now, as I was saying, I should very much like to add you two pretty boys’ hearts to my collection, but I must admit, there is also a part of me that would love to see Malice attain a fully-functional heart so that she may become a sharp thorn in Dorothy’s side. Perhaps some day, you shall even kill her, so I don’t have to.”

  “I venture to say,” Hatter says, while raising his index finger, “that merely adding two more hearts to the pile can’t possibly compare to the delicious meal of revenge served cold. Oh, yes, think what you may put on it. Lime, perhaps. Salt. Paprika?” He looks confused, while tapping his chin.

  “To vengeance!” Sleepy B shouts, and lifts her fist in the air.

  “Indeed,” the witch says with a little smile. “However, despite your convincing arguments, I find both possibilities attractive. But let’s make things interesting. I propose a wager.”

  “Ooh!” Sleepy B says. “Jabby loves to gamble!” Upon viewing his offended face, she says, “Oopsy! Sorry!”

  The witch looks at the Jabberwock, says, “Gambling is, indeed, quite the thrill. Especially when the stakes are high. Here is my proposal. I shall set the Tin Knight’s heart inside one of my rooms beneath this one. I shall appoint a guard. If you can get past the guard and acquire the heart, you may keep it, and I shall personally transfer it into your chest,” she says to Malice.

  “And if we should fail?” the Jabberwock says.

  “Then, assuming you survive, the Mad Hatter, and Humpty shall voluntarily submit themselves to my wooing, and eventually give their heart to me.”

  The Jabberwock says, “You mean, submit to your evil magic?”

  The witch smirks at him. “We arrive at love through various paths.” To Neva she says, “Don’t we, love?”

  “Yes, my darling,” says Neva. She grins creepily.

  Malice says, “You said you wish me to oppose Dorothy, whom you despise so. Why not simply give me the heart so that I may defeat her?”

  The witch chuckles. “You propose I give you the heart out of the goodness of my heart? Where’s the fun in that? No, let my challenge decide the outcome—either result would have its benefit to me, you see.”

  Malice sighs, and thinks, trying to figure out a way out of this predicament.

  The witch says, “Or, you can turn around and leave. The choice is yours.”

  Malice contemplates that option. “The stakes are uneven,” she says. “You wish to wager the single heart of the Tin Knight against the two hearts of my teammates. It’s unbalanced.”

  “Very well,” says the witch. “If you beat the challenge, in addition to giving you the Tin Knight’s heart, I shall release Neva from her infatuation.”

  In a whine, Neva says, “Awwww... Why?”

  Instead of responding to her, the witch says to the team, “The love spell has barely begun to take root in her, so she shall recover quickly if I release her.”

  “I don’t wanna be released,” the munchkin mutters, and pouts severely.

  The witch sniffs. “Well, since you’re my love slave, the choice isn’t up to you.”

  “I’m miffed, but I still adore you,” murmurs Neva.

  “So,” the witch says to Malice, “what do you think of the stakes now? Two hearts for two hearts—an even wager.”

  Malice’s mouth twitches from side to side. “There is someone else...”

  “Ah,” the witch slaps her hands together and leans back in her chair. “Ah yes, my new lover’s brother, the giant munchkin. You made a deal to try to ‘save’ him in exchange for my naughty minx leading you here.” She smiles slyly.

  “Yes,” Malice says. “You haven’t taken his heart yet, right? I would ask that you release him as well, should we be successful.”

  “Oh bother, such constant demands from you. Your stakes would have to be upped to balance it all. Very well, add the girl to the wager. I suppose I can wait for her to grow.”

  “I’m not so little, you know!” Sleepy B says.

  “No!” the Jabberwock says. “Add me instead!”

  “You?” the witch says. “No offense, but you’re all mixed up. No, not in a million years.”

  “But—” the Jabberwock says, but says no more, sitting with a scowl on his face.

  Malice sighs woefully, looks at all her teammates—they nod and show their encouragement.

  “Very well,” Malice says. “We accept your terms.”

  “Jolly good!” the witch says. “The thrilling challenge shall commence shortly. Only allow me a few minutes to prepare.” She stands, leans into Neva’s ear for a while—Neva nods along as she does so. The witch excuses herself and exits the room.

  Neva tells them to wait for a few minutes, offers them tea and scones, which they decline, not wishing to have full stomaches for whatever is about to occur.

  Malice slips the magic amulet over Neva’s head, and she immediately slips out of her magically-induced infatuation. She claims that she voluntarily submitted to the witch’s love magic to avoid raising suspicion, but once she came under the spell, she confessed everything to the witch.

  Awkwardly they wait for fifteen minutes. When the time is up, Neva bids them to follow her.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  NEVA LEADS THEM TO the top of a staircase that spirals downward. The cobblestoned walls are lined with torches—a wooden guardrail prevents plummeting down the great cylinder of the stairwell, which goes down so deep that Malice can’t even see the bottom, in the gloom.

  Neva announces that she’s leading them to the 23rd Floor. The level that the house is on—the highest level—is the 30th Floor, she informs them.

  After some time spent descending, they stand in front of the arched wooden door that has the number 23 drippily written on it in white paint.

  “Here we are, then,” Neva announces. She tugs on the latch and pushes the door inward.

  Neva steps inside first—she gasps, shouts, “What are you doing there?” to someone.

  The Jabberwock steps inside next, followed by Malice.

  As the others file in after her, Malice takes it all in. The room is about eight feet wide and twenty feet long, and fifteen feet ahead stands a scowling male munchkin, about eight feet tall. He’s wearing trousers and tunic, and holding what looks to be a huge red lollipop, whose candy has been formed into the shape of an axe
.

  Malice leans down behind Neva and says, “Your brother, I presume?”

  “Indeed,” Neva says with a nod.

  Malice takes in more of the room. Torches line the gray cobblestoned walls. Behind the giant, the floor angles sharply upward, forming a ramp that leads up to a dead end formed by a stone wall.

  In front of the team, a closed wooden chest rests on the ground—it looks like a treasure chest. Next to it sit what look to be three bottles of golden-brown liquor, with one of the bottles half-empty.

  “A giant munchkin,” says the Cat. “Such irony.”

  “Don’t speak ill of my brother,” says Neva.

  “Where’s the heart?” Humpty says. “In the chest?”

  “No,” says Neva. “That’s where he keeps his candy. My brother adores candy.”

  “And booze?” Humpty says.

  She shakes her head. “My brother doesn’t drink.”

  “Have you told those bottles?” Hatter says.

  The giant munchkin’s voice booms out at them:

  “Fee fi fody fum...fee,

  Prepare for munchkin pain from...me.”

  And while he shouts, he whirls his lollipop axe in his hands.

  “Not the best rhyme,” remarks the Cat.

  “Could you speak to him?” Malice says to Neva.

  So Neva shouts out, “Dalten, we come to reclaim the heart of someone who the witch stole it from. Do you know—”

  “No!” Dalten shouts. “My lover doesn’t steal hearts. She merely accepts the hearts that her adobers...I mean adorers, willingly give to her.” He gestures with his hand and seems to lose his balance briefly. He also seems to be slurring his words.

  Malice is reminded of how she herself used to act under the influence of black rose, and she feels a twinge of jealousy, to accompany her suddenly reawakened craving.

  “Nonetheless!” Neva shouts. “We are here to reacquire the Tin Knight’s heart. Might you point out to us where it is?”

  “Certainly, my lovely!” bellows back Dalten, the giant munchkin. Malice is reminded of the witch using the ‘my lovely’ phrase. “It is behind me.” He gestures behind himself—whatever may be there is blocked from view. “But beware, for if you come seeking it, the endeavor shall only bring you...munchkin pain!” He steps aside dramatically (if a bit clumsily), to reveal in front of the ramp, a white ivory pedestal about five feet high with something red atop it. Though Malice can’t make it out from the angle and the distance, she assumes it’s a heart. Malice has heard that hearts are quite different in the Outside World. There, she’s been told, hearts are similar to the other organs of the body—they’re like a big muscle, they say, full of blood and connected to veins and arteries. Malice hasn’t decided whether to believe such fanciful notions, but the Outside World strikes her as a very strange place indeed.

  The giant munchkin stumbles quite clownishly, and very nearly falls.

  “Dalten, I daresay you’re drunk!” calls out Neva.

  “I don’t drink,” says Dalten.

  Neva huffs. “That’s the notion I was under. But obviously, I was mistaken.” She gestures her hand at him.

  “Oh, very well,” Dalten says. “I shall admit it. There’s no shame in it. I’ve been partaking of the big boy drinks, because I’m an adult now, not some little baby who’s constantly partaking of candy.” He gestures at the wooden chest.

  Malice takes a moment to reassess him, making special note of his age. The bloke appears to be in his early twenties, so Malice is intrigued as to why he seems to be speaking in such a childish manner.

  Neva says, “But candy is the munchkin way! Alcohol is not!”

  “I no longer subsist on the munchkin way, oh my sister. Now I subsist on my love for my glorious witch mistress. I am her love slave! No more munchkin sweets for me. I no longer have anything sweet inside me—only bitter liquour and the potential unleashment of bitter munchkin pain!”

  “Crikey,” Hatter mutters under his breath.

  “Yeah, he’s gone a bit mental,” agrees the Cat.

  Meanwhile, Neva says, “Why do you speak thusly, oh brother of mine? Are you saying that from now on, you shall only drink, and so shall rebuke your munchkin candy heritage? Is it all your candy inside that trunk?”

  “Aye,” says the giant. “’Tis all my candy I had stored away. Err. All the candy, that is, except for my lolly, that is.” He pushes his axe back and forth through the air. “Because of my witch, it is transformed from the sickly sweet lolly of a little boy, to the viciously menacing grown man’s lolly of doom...that shall bring only munchkin pain!” He whirls the lolly in his hands, causing the axe-head to make whirring, whooshing noises through the air, before bringing it to rest. He holds it menacingly in his hands whilst snarling.

  Neva says, “You say the witch had something to do with your lolly? I remember how you used to often carry really huge lollies. But not anymore...ever since you started dating the witch!”

  “That’s right!” Dalten proclaims. “She told me that if I wanted to prove I truly love her, I had to give up that which I cherished most! And so I proved to her my love by giving up the sweets, and transforming this lolly into a giver of munchkin pain! And that proves how much I love my adorable ickle witchy poo!”

  The Jabberwock says quietly to Neva, “Pardon me, he says he ‘transformed’ the lolly? How so?”

  “I know not. I shall ask him.” To her giant brother, she shouts, “How did you transform your lolly into that oh-so-aggressive shape?”

  “My glorious witch-woman lover. She bid me show my devotion to her. This lolly began its days as one of my ordinary round ones, but beneath my beloved’s tutelage, it was transformed, as under her watchful eye, she instructed and guided my licking of it. And under her guidance, this lolly was formed into this shape, at which point, she bid me stop, and to never lick candy again! And so my lolly was transformed, no longer an instrument to deliver yummy flavor, but an instrument to inflict munchkin pain!”

  “Yes, yes, ‘munchkin pain’,” shouts Neva. “We get it.”

  “I’m afraid I’m still unclear,” Hatter mutters, now he shouts at Dalten, “Are you saying it only brings pain to other munchkins?”

  “No, no, don’t be daft, my adversary,” Dalten shouts. “I am a munchkin who shall use my glorious weapon to vanquish you whilst delivering pain unto you—that’s why it’s called ‘munchkin pain’.”

  “Ah, I see!” says Hatter. “But your weapon was once a soothing tool, by which I mean to say, must we be opposed by it? We are a friend to your sister, can we not be friends to you as well?” He nods at all the teammates who plaster on winning, friendly smiles.

  Dalten shouts back, “My beloved told me to guard the heart with my life, and that’s what I’ll do. For I would die for my witchy poo. That is how much I love her. I hope someday to even give her my heart as well!”

  Neva says, “You are my brother! We don’t want to fight you! And I won’t let them harm you!”

  “Whoa!” the Cat says to her. “Not everyone here is his sister, you know.”

  “I’m sorry!” Dalten says. “If I have to fight you, I shall. But if you leave right now, I won’t have to.”

  “We shan’t be doing that!” Sleepy B shouts.

  The Cat shouts, “Yes, your blood shall flow upon the floor like a river of gore!”

  “Hush, naughty kitty,” Malice says to him. “We are trying to befriend him.”

  “Well that’s no fun,” the Cat mumbles.

  “But your love is not real!” Neva shouts. “You’re being controlled by the witch’s magic, and we made a deal that if we can seize the heart, she shall release you from the spell.”

  “But I don’t want to be released. I love her with all my heart, and she ordered me to defend that heart with my life.” He stumbles a little as he points behind himself.

  Quietly, the Jabberwock says, “We may be forced to kill him, in our effort to acquire the very object that we must gain in ord
er to save him. That’s why the witch sent him to guard it—I suppose she thinks it’s marvelously ironic.”

  “Is it ironic, or poetic?” Hatter says. “I have a hard time telling the difference?”

  Neva says to them, “No, we won’t have to fight him. We can make him fall out of his supposed-love.” She lowers her head and motions to them to gather around her, and the team forms a huddle.

  In a subdued voice, Neva says, “I believe I can get him to don the amulet. I planned for the possibility, and gave it a long chain so it can expand to fit his neck. Hopefully, it shall be enough to break the witch’s hold on him.”

  “But what about you?” Sleepy B says.

  Neva answers, “I’ll be okay. The witch only put me under the spell an hour ago. It takes time for it to grow strong. Besides, I’ve already put on the amulet and weakened the witch’s hold on me. I’m sure I’ll be fine. Just follow my lead.”

  Humpty makes a meepy sort of meek sound.

  “What’s that?” Neva says.

  The giant’s voice booms out, “Hey! What are you talking about?”

  Humpty quietly explains himself to the huddle: “I just wonder, that if the witch put the heart in this room, for our sake, then assigned Dalten to guard it in order to vex us, then why did she include the chest of candy and bottles of alcohol?”

  “Rules of story,” Sleepy B says. “She has prepared this room as a challenge for us to figure out, most likely, because it makes a better story.”

  Neva says, “I believe you’re right. So, it’d behoove us for me to pry a bit further into my brother’s mind.”

  “Please do,” Malice says. “We hope to figure out a nonviolent solution to this challenge.” She gives Neva an encouraging nod.

  Neva slaps her hands together. “Very well, let’s delve.” She turns around to face her brother, and the team looks at him, showing him their best friendly smiles.