by Lotus Rose
The young man is about fifteen feet away, which gives him plenty of time to raise the slingshot in his hand, aim at the charging woman. He lets fly a steel ball that slams into the lady’s forehead with a sharp crack.
A dazed look comes across the lady’s face, as she drops the cleaver and wavers, struggling to keep standing.
From out the door come three people—an old man, a younger man and a middle aged woman.
“Aha!” shouts the older man to the dazed woman, “Now we’re free! And we’ve got you!”
They grab the woman by her arms, while she gives a weak attempt at a struggle.
Three more people come out of the building. One man points at Jack. “Drop your weapon, Jack! We’re all free now. There’s no chance you’ll escape!”
Jack slides the curved blades of the shears tight against the Hatter’s neck. “Come any closer and I’ll cut his head off!”
One of the men has picked up the dropped cleaver, which he shakes menacingly. “You do that and you’ll be dead ten seconds later.”
And meanwhile a few more people come out the door.
Malice is frozen in terror, afraid to move, because it might cause those blades to slice the dear Hatter’s neck.
The young man with the slingshot lifts it and aims it at Jack Sprat’s forehead. “I wouldn’t do that if I were you.”
But Jack ducks down out of the line of fire.
“Give it up!” says one of the men in the crowd. “It’s over. We already have your wife.”
A couple of men are binding Jack’s wife’s hands behind her back with rope.
“Oh, very well!” Jack sighs, and pulls the shears away and drops them on the ground. A bunch of people are rushing toward him. “But can we at least have our meal? I was trying out a new recipe.”
Furiously the man says, “They’re people, Jack! Our friends and family!”
Some guys grab Jack’s arms. He says, “That’s why I’m not sure of the recipe. It’s meant for spit roasted pigs, not humans, and as you know I cannot eat fat.”
“And I can eat no lean!” his wife says woefully.
Malice herself has quite lost her appetite and feels sick to her stomach. Next to her, the Hatter looks disturbed as well, and is muttering to himself.
Malice watches as a man ties the hands of Jack Sprat. “Pardon me,” she says to one of the men.
Meanwhile a man is shouting at Jack, “No! You shan’t eat human flesh! And you’ll be imprisoned for murder and attempted murder of the village!”
“Excuse me,” Malice says meekly.
The young man with the slingshot is walking over.
Sulkily, Jack says, “But why let good meat go to waste? It’s already cooked.”
“Oh, take them both to the stockade!” says one of the men.
“Could you unlock us?” Malice whimpers.
But the man ignores her, because Jack starts to struggle and the man rushes over to him. They push him along as Jack yells, “But I’m so hungry!”
Eventually Jack settles down and he and his wife are led away, leaving Malice and the Hatter ignored.
Malice jumps in surprise as she suddenly notices the grinning boy with the slingshot in front of her. “Is that the key?” he says while gesturing at the necklace.
“Yes,” Malice says. “Thank you for saving us, and won’t you please unchain us?”
“I agree with her sentiments,” the Hatter says.
The young man’s brow furrows. “Well why are you wearing it around your neck?”
Malice sighs. “A girl put it on that necklace, to slow us down.”
The Hatter says, “Yes, a girl named Cinderella. She’s a very good dancer.”
The young man’s eyes light up. “Ah! My dear Cinderella! That’s why I came here to begin with! Because of her! Here, let me unchain you!”
The young man works at the necklace’s clasp. He’s thin and muscular, and also quite handsome, Malice thinks.
“Thank you so much!” Malice gushes as he unlocks her chains.
“You’re welcome. I’m Cinderella’s Prince.” He begins unlocking the Hatter. “But you may just call me Prince.”
“Thank you, Mr. Prince,” the Hatter says.
Malice says, “Prince? Just Prince? What’s your real name?”
He thinks. “Well, it seems I don’t think I have one. Maybe I’ll have one later.”
Malice is about to ask him what exactly that means, when one of the guys around them says, “Whatever your name is, you’re a hero. You rescued us from being eaten by those two! Unfortunately, they already killed two of our villagers.”
Malice feels a little green. “We didn’t know that smell was people!”
“Yes,” the Hatter says woefully. “We thought it might be pork. Ow!” He yelled because Malice swatted him on the arm.
The Prince says, “Well, I’m glad to have helped. But if I may ask, how did they get the whole village tied up like that?”
The man says, “About an hour ago, they were acting strangely, smelling some kind of black flower, then they decided to bake us cookies. They’re the main cooks of our village. We ate them and it put us all to sleep. When we awoke, they’d tied us up and gagged our mouths. It was a complete surprise. They kept saying they were gonna eat us! I don’t know what got into them all of the sudden.”
Malice arches a brow. “They were nice before?”
“The sweetest two people you could ever meet! They used to cook us such wonderful meals. Never had a cruel word to say between the two of them.”
Malice sighs. “I think they may have been twisted.”
“I’ll say,” the man says. “Gone crazy.”
Malice merely nods—she doesn’t want to get dragged in to explaining about the Black Rose twisting the fairy tales.
The Prince says, “Well I hope those two get their due justice. Cinderella must be close, right? You came into contact with her?” he says to the Hatter.
“Yes. How did you know?”
“I am seeking Cinderella. You are too, correct? We can travel together.”
The man cuts in, “It’s getting dark. You’re welcome to stay the night in our village.”
Chapter 12
The Queen of Hearts, the Brothers Grimm, and the Storyteller are once again gathered in Sleeping Beauty’s bedroom at nighttime. (Sleeping Beauty is there, too, of course, but she’s always sleeping.)
The last time they were gathered here, Malice, the Mad Hatter, Cinderella, and her Prince all seemed to have been sucked into fairy tale land, inside the snowglobe.
Nobody knows any way to tell what’s going on inside it, though.
The Storyteller is about to recite the words to speak to Alice once again, when the Cheshire Cat’s floating head starts appearing in the air above Sleeping Beauty.
“Oh, you blasted feline!” the Queen of Hearts yells at his grinning face.
“Merry meet, Your Majesty,” the Cat slurs in that smooth-speaking manner of his.
The Storyteller says, “Cat, we are about to contact Alice. We’d appreciate it if you wouldn’t mention our meddling around the fairy tales with the Black Rose.”
“Oh, you know I don’t like to interfere in things that way. I am at heart, an observer.” His head whizzes through the air to hover next to the Storyteller.
“Ha!” the Queen of Hearts says. “Where is your heart, anyway? I never see you with a body. Have you lost it?”
The Cat sticks his tongue out at her. “Maybe it’s up your—”
“That’s enough of you two,” the Storyteller says. “We’re here to speak to Alice.” He speaks the words to form a dream connection (with Sleeping Beauty wearing the hat to strengthen the reception).
The image of Alice sitting Indian style floating in midair appears. She is wearing pajamas, and some sort of silver metallic hat, formed like a child would fold a piece of paper to make a triangular hat.
“Welcome, again, Wonderlanders…to my dreams… Ommmm.”
&nb
sp; They all greet her. The Queen of Hearts realizes now that Alice is sitting in what is known as a lotus position. It is some sort of Buddhist position, she recalls, for meditation, or something—the person sits with legs folded tightly, and the back of their hands upon their knees with thumb touched to a finger.
Alice looks younger than last time, and the Queen of Hearts is about to remark upon it, when the Cat says, “Crikey, my girl! What happened to your face?”
Alice touches her cheek. “What do you mean?”
The Queen of Hearts says, “I believe he means to say that you seem several years younger than before. How old are you, now, my girl?”
“I’m 17. I know, I was 19 last time. But I am in a dream, so who knows?”
“Either that,” snaps the Queen of Hearts, “or that fool girl Malice really threw the timelines of our worlds out of sync by fiddling with that watch of hers.”
“Speaking of Malice,” Alice says, “where is she?”
The Cat chuckles, but keeps his word not to reveal anything.
The Storyteller says, “She and Cinderella and the Hatter are currently having a grand old time gallivanting with all the other fairy tale beings inside the snowglobe.”
“What snowglobe?”
“Here let me show you.” He lifts the snowglobe from the nightstand and holds it up to her. “All the fairy tales are inside here, but we want to set them free. That’s why we need you to focus on believing in them. Have you been doing that?”
“Oh, yes, I have been thinking and thinking and trying to believe. That’s why I’m wearing this tinfoil hat to focus my mental powers shooting out from my brain. Look, watch.” She closes her eyes. “Ommmmmm…”
“Very good, young lady,” the Storyteller says. “I can tell that it won’t take much longer for the power of your belief to break the glass of the snowglobe and send the wonderful fairy tale beings into Wonderland. We still have to figure out how to send them through the Looking Glass, but if you call them to you, they will do their best to visit you.”
“Ooh!” the girl clasps her hands together. Her eyes are wide open now. “And then will they come with all their whimsy and magic? Will there be princes and princesses to come visit me?”
“Eventually, but one step at a time.”
“Mmmm, handsome princes. Beautiful elegant princesses. Maybe I could borrow one of their gowns!”
“Of course, young lady. But first we need to get you to believe more in the fairy tales, and maybe have you focus your thoughts on breaking the glass.”
She looks at the snowglobe. “Couldn’t you easily break it yourself?”
“There is magic involved. Only you can do it, through your belief.”
“I can break that snowglobe!” Alice yells out ferociously. “If you believe enough, you can do anything!” She points at it. “Oh snowglobe, I commandeth thee. Be torn asunder by my command!” It doesn’t break, but to her credit it does tremble a little.
Alice’s shoulders slump.
“Do not be discouraged, young lady. You’re definitely making progress. First you make it tremble, then you’ll make it break. It’s only a matter of days. I just know it.”
“You think so?” Alice says. “And the fairy tale creatures really are worth freeing? Are they all as nice and pretty as Cinderella?”
“Absolutely,” the Storyteller says.
“Have you met any of the fairy tale creatures, Cat?”
“Just Cinderella. But I can tell you that everyone is really looking forward to you meeting them. It shall be a thrilling experience.”
She pouts a little. “Quite. But will it be fun to meet them? Life in my realm is so boring compared to Wonderland, why I don’t believe I’ve met a magical being or person the whole time I’ve been here.”
The Cat says, “When you meet them, you’re sure to have the time of your life. You’ll be the whole reason they’re released and they’ll want to visit you just to pay you back personally.”
She squeals in delight. “But how will you send them through the Looking Glass?”
The Storyteller says, “We are working on a way to do it, but we’ll cross that bridge when we come to it. Please, continue believing in the fairy tales and focusing on breaking the snowglobe glass.”
“Oh, I definitely will. I want to do whatever it takes to bring the fairy tales over. All the anticipation is so built up I could explode!”
The Cat says, “Well, I have a suggestion on what you might do…to focus your thoughts…”
“Yes?” she says.
“Every hour on the hour…”
“Yes?”
“…tap your shiny hat while twirling and clucking like a chicken.” The Cat laughs.
She scowls. “Oh, you, you’re the same as always. Yet, oddly, I miss you.”
“I miss you too,” the Cat says.
“I don’t miss you,” the Queen of Hearts says.
“Okay,” the Storyteller says. “Quit teasing the poor girl. Let’s let her be. Just continue to focus, my girl. And we’ll talk again soon, I’m sure of it. Cheerio.”
“Cheerio,” she echoes.
The Storyteller pulls the hat off Sleeping Beauty, ending the session.
Chapter 13
Malice is to the right side of the Prince. The Hatter is on the Prince’s left, as they walk out of the village, traveling farther down the trail.
Malice is the first to speak. “So, Prince. Why are you looking for Cinderella?”
His posture straightens as he walks. “She is my beloved. And I wish to find her to make her my wife. I have her glass slipper that I wish to slip upon her beautiful, sexy foot. I think.”
“What do you mean, you think?”
His posture slumps some. “My story hasn’t been decided yet.”
“I can relate!” the Hatter says and begins giggling. “I often don’t know whether I’m coming or going.”
Malice struggles to make sense of it all. “You’re a fairy tale prince, and the fairy tales may be becoming twisted due to the magical Black Rose. I think the process may be gradual though, or at least not all at once.”
The Hatter says to the Prince, “So perhaps your story is currently shifting, becoming more twisted.”
Malice is impressed. The Hatter is often annoying, but at times says many quite profound things.
“I believe you may be right,” the Prince says. “I don’t know how my story will end up, but one thing is certain—I must find my beloved Cinderella and slip her magical slipper upon her foot.” He gestures toward one of the little bags dangling from his belt.
“You have one of her slippers?” Malice asks.
“Yes. Of course, I think she has replaced her lost slipper with another, but it’s the thought that counts.”
The Hatter says, “Such beautiful slippers upon such beautiful toes. She’s such a lovely dancer.”
The Prince says, “Ah, she is indeed beautiful, and my greatest weakness. I first fell in love with her after finding her foot fit perfectly into her lost shoe. But after we were married, she broke my heart, and left. But I must admit, I am a lovestruck fool. I still love her, and once I found she had returned to the Land of Fairy Tales, I sought to be reunited with her and her beautiful feet and toes.”
“They are indeed delectable,” the Hatter remarks.
Malice glares at him in her jealousy, but since the Prince is in the middle, the Hatter doesn’t see, causing Malice to feel foolish.
The Prince says, “We’ll have to wait to see how my story turns out. But in any case, I want to find her, which is how our paths came to cross. The shoe detected her presence in Jack Sprat’s village.” He again points to the bag upon his belt.
Malice says, “Jack Sprat said she hadn’t been there.”
“He lied. The slipper detected her presence.”
Malice stops in the path to face the Prince, because this seems an important matter of discussion. “What do you mean, detected her presence?”
The Hatter
says, “Is she here?” He peers behind Malice.
“No my dear,” Malice says. “It’s a wonder that he would be able to detect her.”
The Prince says, “Well, I know she was with you recently, at least. Here, let me show you.” He opens his bag and pulls out a glass shoe that looks like Cinderella’s as far as Malice can tell. The shoe is glowing softly.
“Now, watch.” The Prince holds the shoe toward the Hatter. As he moves it about, the shoe glows brighter the closer it gets to the Hatter’s cheek. Now, it shines radiantly as he presses the shoe to the Hatter’s face.
“I say,” says the Hatter, “that’s where she kissed me.”
“And that’s what my shoe detects. It is with this shoe that I shall track my beloved, and then perhaps I shall challenge you to a duel for stealing her affections.”
“Err, I’m sorry, Prince. I didn’t know you and her were an item.”
“I jest! She is a single and free woman…for now. So now you know my story, as incomplete as it still is. What about yours?”
They resume walking and Malice and the Hatter speak of their own tales until they come to another collection of signs in the trail, where it again leads off in five directions.
They read the signs:
3 little pigs
Lady and the shoe
Princess and the pea
Aladdin
Pinocchio
The Prince takes out the glass slipper to see if he can pick up Cinderella’s trail. The slipper glows slightly brighter near one trail. He points at the Lady and the Shoe sign. “It does seem the most logical choice, since we are so involved with shoes. Don’t you think? Cinderella must have thought so as well.”
They agree, and so they walk down that path, and what awaits, after reading the little poem on the sign:
There was an old woman
Who lived in a shoe.
She had so many children,
She didn't know what to do.
Chapter 14
As Malice, the Hatter and Cinderella’s prince walk along the trail, the surrounding area seems to magically shift just like it had at Jack Sprat’s village.