by Cameron Jace
HOOKAH
(Insanity Book 4)
by Cameron Jace
www.CameronJace.com
Copyright
First Original Edition, September 2015
Copyright © 2015 Cameron Jace
Formatted by Author's HQ
All rights are reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission from the author.
Other Books by Cameron Jace
The Grimm Diaries Prequels Series
The Grimm Diaries Prequels 1-6 (Free)
The Grimm Diaries Prequels 7-10
The Grimm Diaries Prequels 11-14
The Grimm Diaries Prequels 15-18
The Grimm Diaries Main Series
Snow White Sorrow (book 1)
Cinderella Dressed in Ashes (book 2)
Blood, Milk & Chocolate Part 1 (book3)
I Am Alive Series
I Am Alive (book 1)
Pentimento Series
Pentimento (book 1)
Books in the Insanity Series
Insanity
Figment
Circus
Hookah
How to read this book:
Begin at the beginning
and go until you come to the end;
then stop.
In the memory of Lewis Carroll.
We love you for the madman you were.
Contents
Prologue Part 1
Prologue Part 2
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Chapter 39
Chapter 40
Chapter 41
Chapter 42
Chapter 43
Chapter 44
Chapter 45
Chapter 46
Chapter 47
Chapter 48
Chapter 49
Chapter 50
Chapter 51
Chapter 52
Chapter 53
Chapter 54
Chapter 55
Chapter 56
Chapter 57
Chapter 58
Chapter 59
Chapter 60
Chapter 61
Chapter 62
Chapter 63
Chapter 64
Chapter 65
Chapter 66
Chapter 67
Chapter 68
Chapter 69
Chapter 70
Chapter 71
Chapter 72
Chapter 73
Chapter 74
Chapter 75
Chapter 76
Chapter 77
Chapter 78
Chapter 79
Chapter 80
Chapter 81
Chapter 82
Chapter 83
Chapter 84
Chapter 85
Chapter 86
Chapter 87
Chapter 88
Chapter 89
Chapter 90
Chapter 91
Chapter 92
Chapter 93
Chapter 94
Chapter 95
Chapter 96
Chapter 97
Chapter 98
Chapter 99
Chapter 100
Chapter 101
Chapter 102
Chapter 103
Chapter 104
Chapter 105
Chapter 106
Chapter 107
Chapter 108
Epilogue Part 1
Epilogue Part 2
Epilogue Part 3
Thank You
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About the Author
Prologue Part One
Tom Quad, Oxford University
The man in the priest’s outfit landed in the middle of Oxford University in an automobile strapped up in helium balloons.
Students craned their necks up, recognizing the aero-engined car, a British masterpiece powered by aircraft engines that some thought could fly back in the 1920’s.
But never had they seen it hinged on balloons like today.
Against normal laws of physics, the car descended to the ground, and people stared at it as if it was an alien spaceship.
After landing, the man in the priest’s outfit stepped out of the automobile, flashing a broad smile at the world. His hair was swept by a swirling breeze, and his lanky stature was considerably attractive. He looked familiar to the children attending this celebration. His image had been carved in the back of their heads since they first started reading.
There was no mistaking it. The man looked like an uncanny modern day incarnation of Lewis Carroll.
Not just that. The man had arrived with what every child in the world had been craving for a while—and it wasn’t candy.
“Where are the hookahs?” a child said. “You said you’d bring the Hookah of Hearts!”
Amidst the flashing cameras and the nosey reporters, the man flapped his hands sideways like a living scarecrow from the Wizard of Oz. He was about to show them his latest trick.
Behind him, the sky drizzled, not rain but gift-wrapped packages.
“It’s raining hookahs, hallelujah,” The man said in a soft voice.
The hookahs inside the packages, like his car, dangled from hundreds of brightly colored helium balloons.
The children hoorayed and ran toward them, tiptoeing, reaching, and competing for one of their own.
More flashes. TV Cameras. People with microphones broadcasting the frabjous event.
The Hookah of Hearts had been in the market for more than a year. Manufactured by Dodo, a mysterious toy company obsessed with everything Alice in Wonderland—the caterpillar and his hookah in particular.
The children began collecting their presents, ripping apart the wrappers and pulling out their hookahs.
They began smoking them.
Everyone applauded.
Of course they weren’t puffing real smoke like adults. Those were mini hookahs. The children sucked on some unique scent -- the flavor of Tiger Lilies -- which was harmless, and puffed out bubbles instead of smoke.
Pink bubbles. Blue bubbles. Green bubbles.
Occasionally there was this one bubble that wrote words like who are you? in the air.
The crowd applauded again. Enthusiastic. Feeling fantastic. Some of them even felt... frantastic.
More and more flashes.
The broadcasting cameras rotated back toward the Lewis Carroll look-a-like priest.
He looked incredibly uncomfortable with the cameras, shielding his eyes with his hand. But the cameramen didn’t care. This was even better than paparazzi’s photos.
The reporters wondered how much such an extensive marketing campaign cost the Dodo Corporation.
“Come
on. The car and flying hookahs must have cost a fortune. They can’t be real, or…?”
The man wore his smile thinner, and said nothing. He looked like he had a toothache, his jaw twitching a little.
Another reporter asked him if it was true that over six million hookahs had been sold worldwide.
Still irritated by the flashes, he continued saying nothing.
However, he responded to the children who had questions about certain functions in the hookahs.
“May I compliment your outfit and make up, sir.” A young female reporter stuck her microphone—and nose—out of the squeezing crowd. “I mean, you really look like the legendary Lewis Carroll. How is that even possible?”
This time, the priest looked amused. It was the question he’d been waiting for. “Y-y-young la-lady,” he stuttered like Lewis Carroll did in real life. “What makes you think I’m not him?”
Prologue Part Two
Some of TV crew rolled their eyes at the man’s reply. Others laughed at the unmatched confidence and acting.
But something about him was so original. The way he said the words.
An uncomfortable silence swept over the university. A silence that spread to every TV set in every home all over the world.
Who was this man, really?
“M-my name is Lewis Ca-car-roll.” The man bowed in front of the camera. “A-and I’ve come to bestow my b-b-beautiful madness u-u-upon this world.”
The silence stretched for a few more seconds.
It was like staring at a clown. No one was really sure what to expect. Should they have panicked and ran away, or just laughed and said, ‘Haha, of course you are!’
Too many so-called Wonderland Monsters had been to London lately: the creepy Cheshire, the Muffin Man, and the Mad Hatter with his rabbit bomb last week. It had become impossible to dismiss someone claiming he was one of them.
A few kids managed to break the silence, coughing bubbles and flowers from sucking on the hookahs.
Those bubbles weren’t pink. They weren’t blue. They weren’t green.
“Why are the children coughing... red bubbles?” the young reporter asked.
“Silly me. I forgot,” the priest said, stepping back into his flying car and pulling a lever that pumped air into more balloons. “Our Hookah of Hearts, which has already sold more than six million pieces all over the world, well, it’s not just a hookah.” The balloons began to take off again. “This hookah holds a deadly disease like nothing you’ve ever seen.”
Faces began to redden, confused by the man’s continued speech of madness.
Was he joking? Why would the Dodo Corporation send a loon like him to represent them?
“And I repeat”—his smile broadened, too wide to be benevolent—“a deadly virus like nothing you’ve seen before. It should start working in a few hours. Within three days”—the automobile hovered above the ground—“this world as you know it will end.”
What once was silence escalated to ascending grunts of panic. More children kept coughing. Parents worried, watching him escape into the sky. More people in the world couldn’t believe what they were watching on the news.
“Who are you?” a reporter screamed at the floating priest.
“I told you. My name is Lewis Carroll,” he said from high above, looking like someone sweet and colorful in the middle of a never-ending nightmare. “And I am a Wonderland Monster.”
Chapter 1
St Peter’s Basilica, the Vatican
I am waiting in line to enter the confession room so I can talk to Fabiola.
Tens of men and women entered the booth before me, most of them slouched by the weight of whatever truth, or sins, they were about to confess.
But knowing Fabiola—from the few times we’ve met—I’m aware of her positive influence on people.
Until it’s my turn, I fiddle with the key Lewis Carroll gave me three weeks ago when I first met him through the Tom Tower.
I pulled it out of my cell’s wall this morning, fearing it wasn’t safe in there anymore. Not after I stupidly lost another key to the Mad Hatter last week. I messed up. Who knows what this Hatter would do with it.
But this golden key in my hand—Lewis instructed me not to lose it under any circumstances. I plan not to disappoint him.
I’m looking forward to knowing why it’s so important, along with the date scribbled on the walls of my cell in the asylum: January the 14th.
I wonder what happened on that day. If I could only remember why I wrote it on the wall—and if it was me who did it.
An old lady pats me on my shoulder, informing me that it’s my turn.
I stand up, take a deep breath and enter the booth, waiting for Fabiola to slide open the window in between.
In the dark and silence of the booth, I’m reminded of Jack. Silly Jack who would never give up on me.
Silly Jack who may be only a figment of my imagination. A figment so nice I can’t risk finding out he’s not real.
“Are you here for a confession, Alice?” Fabiola asks behind the closed window. I wonder if the White Queen can see through walls.
“No,” I say. “How can I confess what I don’t remember?”
“Trust me.” I hear her fingernails on the wooden frame. “It’s a lot easier than trying to confess what you actually remember.”
I lower my gaze and fiddle with the key, assuming Fabiola’s heard humanity’s darkest secrets between these walls.
“The Pillar lent you his plane to come and see me?” she says.
“Yes. But he doesn’t know what I want to see you about.”
“And what do you want to see me about?”
“Did you hear about me entering a delirious version of Wonderland through the Garden of Cosmic Speculation last week?”
“I did,” Fabiola says. “I too had a vision that I met you inside and showed you the Impossible Six.”
“Lewis, you, the March Hare, Jack, me, and a little girl.”
“If you’re here to ask me about the little girl, I have no answer for you... at least not now.”
“I admit I am curious, but it’s not what I’m here for.”
“Why are you here then, Alice?” Fabiola sounds impatient. I get the feeling she is afraid that talking to me for longer periods will force her to confess too much to me.
The irony.
“I think what I saw was some kind of epiphany, a sign for me to do something,” I say. “I want to gather the Impossible Six and create an opposing force against Black Chess.”
Fabiola slides open the window.
Chapter 2
“You want to stand up to the Queen of Hearts and Black Chess?” Fabiola’s eyes show concern.
“I don’t want to wait for the monster of the week anymore,” I say. “I know about the Circus. How it all started. Black Chess has to be stopped.”
“You know nothing at all, believe me. But it’s admirable that, although you’re not sure if you’re the Real Alice, you want to play the hero’s part.”
“I don’t care if I’m her or not. All I know is that I can stop bad things from happening in this world.”
“Did you think about the price you will have to pay?”
“Other than living in a mad world where I can’t tell what’s real from what’s not? Yes, I know I want to do this.”
“It’s not that easy. Black Chess is darkness itself. Stare into it too long and it will stain you with a black veil of unforgettable pain.”
I shrug, tightening my grip on the key. “I believe the world can be a better place, only if the truth, in this case Black Chess, is exposed and defeated.”
“The truth,” Fabiola considers. “I’m not sure we all want to know about it. What do you have in mind?”
“Like I said, gather the good guys. Jack is with me in the asylum. I will find a way to get the March Hare out of the Hole. I’m not sure where Lewis stands in all of this. I mean, is he alive or dead? But I’m not worried about him, not as much as the l
ittle girl.”
“The time hasn’t come to talk about her yet,” Fabiola says. “So I’d postpone looking for her, same goes for Lewis. He has a war of his own, so he’ll show up when it’s his time.”
My eyes meet hers. “And you?”
“What about me?”
“Are you in? If so, my impression is that you’d be the leader.”
“Normally I would be. But I am not wearing my white outfit to entice wars. I wear it to wipe off the old days of Wonderland, when I had blood all over my hands.”
I am oblivious to whatever she is talking about.