by Lotus Rose
She pauses, as if awaiting a reply.
She pouts and thinks for a moment, her brow furrowed. “Fairy tales, unleash yourselves! I believe in you. You hear me? I believe in you!”
The Queen of Hearts hears the soft sound of the snowglobe cracking throughout, forming light crooked cracks. Now the cracks deepen. The snowglobe bursts with the sound of shattering glass.
The windows in the room shatter, and a cold howling wind rushes throughout the room, though the weather is supposed to be warm. The rough wind knocks items from the nightstands and table, whips at hair and clothing and the bed’s blankets.
The Queen of Hearts and Brothers Grimm are looking about wildly in alarm as the Cat’s head struggles in the wind.
But the Storyteller is staring intently at the ruined snowglobe—its glass is broken and scattered, its water has poured out, but its fake snow stays in place. “Watch!”
Little miniature animals, creatures and people rise up, floating on the whirling, frosty wind as Sleeping Beauty jerks bolt upright and screams at the top of her lungs with eyes wide open, causing the Queen of Hearts to flinch in surprise.
The top hat falls forward, jerked from its perch by the girl’s movement. And the miniature fairy tale beings—there must be about fifty of them—are floating around the room.
The Cheshire Cat is floating up close to a miniature girl wearing a red cloak and the Queen of Hearts is hoping he doesn’t eat her.
Luckily, all the miniature beings whiz out of the room through the window like a line of birds in a flock, gone in an instant, and the blowing swirling wind ends, bringing an eery quiet, in comparison.
The attention in the room is now focused on Sleeping Beauty, flipping her hair about her shoulders as she looks about with big eyes. “I’m awake,” she says, her voice conveying disbelief.
“Yes, my darling,” the Storyteller says. He sits on the bed next to her. “Finally, you have returned to me. You are back in the waking world.” He awkwardly embraces her, twisting to put his arms around her.
Meanwhile, the formerly-sleeping Sleeping Beauty crinkles her eyes at the Brothers Grimm. “You’re too poor,” she snarls at them.
“Pardon me?” Jacob says.
“I was told I’d have a prince,” she replies. “But you’re too poor looking.”
The Storyteller lets go of Sleeping Beauty. “Yes, about that, honey… Things have changed a bit. Become somewhat twisted.”
Sleeping Beauty’s face is contorted with rage. “Where is my prince? You told me he would kiss me awake. I don’t see him, Daddy.”
“Well, yes, sweety. Situations came up. Alice released the fairy tales from where you’d been holding them with your dream energy, and things got mucked about.”
“You’re telling me I have no prince? Is that what you’re telling me?”
“Yes, but—”
A loud thud fills the air as Sleeping Beauty punches the Storyteller in the side of the head, sending him reeling from the bed onto the thin carpet below.
His hand is pressed to the side of his face as he looks up to her. “Darling…”
“Awww,” the Cat can be heard saying, in sympathy to the poor Storyteller, and the Queen of Hearts doesn’t think he’s being sarcastic this time—the Cat’s behavior can be surprising sometimes.
“Oh, shut up Daddy!” Sleeping Beauty shouts. “I can’t even stand the stupid sound of your stupid voice any more!” She flings the blankets off herself, sending them billowing to the floor on the opposite side upon which the Storyteller is sprawled.
“Please sweety,” the Storyteller pleads, “you just need—”
“You need to get out of my life!” She flings her legs over the edge of the bed to stand upon the ground in her nightgown, on the opposite side as from her father.
To the Queen of Hearts, the girl seems remarkably steady on her feet for someone who’s been bedbound all these years, but regardless, there she is, now shouting, “You filled my head with a bunch of silly fairy tales! I need real stories, from a real storyteller and I need the prince I was promised.” She stands glaring at him with her hand on her hip, tapping her foot.
“Sweety, we can work it out,” the Storyteller says. He begins walking over to her to console her.
“No!” she shouts. “Stop, you traitor! You prince-reneger! You promised me a prince and I shall have one!” She throws something to the ground—a poof of smoke wafts up and fills the room. The smoke obscures the Queen of Hearts’ vision and she has a brief coughing fit, but because of the open windows, the smoke immediately starts to clear.
They look about the room.
Sleeping Beauty is gone and the Storyteller has a forced smile upon his face. “She’s just a little upset at the moment,” he says. “I’m sure she’ll get over it.”
“Should we have the guards search for her?” the Queen of Hearts says.
“No need. She shall no doubt return of her own accord. She’ll be fine. But now that the fairy tale beings have finally been released, I’d like to get to work on sending them through the Looking Glass into the outside world. Oh, and Cat?”
“Yes?”
The Storyteller rummages in his pockets, and pulls out one of his story cards. “Please give this card to Malice. I saw a miniature version of her and the Hatter flying from out the snowglobe. I’m sure they’ve plumped out by now, and will likely be outside her castle.”
“My castle!” the Queen of Hearts interjects. Yes, Queen Malice may have usurped her, but it’s only a temporary arrangement, and the Queen of Hearts is sure she’ll regain the throne soon.
“Yes, in any case,” the Storyteller says, “won’t you give her this, my kitty?” He hands it to the Cat, who takes it in his mouth and teleports away.
Chapter 21
Malice and the Mad Hatter had landed in the grass, near the Queen of Heart’s former castle. The Cheshire Cat had just given them a card printed with the words: Deus ex machina.
The Hatter has readjusted his top hat. Malice doesn’t have to readjust her crown since she doesn’t wear one. They are back to normal size, but what is not normal is the little girl standing on the trail named Bo Peep, who’d just informed them she is looking for her sheep so she can slay him. The girl is holding a stick with a big hook on top in one hand, and a dagger in the other.
The Cheshire Cat is chuckling. Of course he is. Malice thinks his heart is in the right place, but he does seem to possess a sick and twisted sense of humor.
“Praytell, why?” Malice asks the girl.
The girl named Bo Peep looks up into her eyes and glares—she’s shorter than Malice, since she looks to be only about ten years old. “Why? Are you on their side or sumpin? Cuz lemme tell ya, my sheep are idiots. They’re always leaving their tails behind them! What kind of dumbass sheep do that, I ask ya, do ya know?”
Malice meekly shrugs, she’s quite befuddled by this small, yet very angry and knife-wielding sheep-herding girl and is more than a bit concerned about ticking her off. Malice looks to see the Hatter seems perplexed and hesitant.
Bo Peep huffs in disdain. “Of course you wouldn’t know. Because you don’t know sod all. All they do is irritate me, so I’ve decided to just slit their throats and be done with them. I’ll make nice wool coats out of them.” Bo Peep shifts her eyes to focus on the Cheshire Cat and as she does so, Malice looks up and behind her shoulder to the parapet of the castle wall, where she meets the eyes of a guard card and discreetly messages to him with her hand, the message of, Come down here, quick. Come down, come down.
“You…” Bo Peep says, pointing her dagger at the Cat while she squints. “Cat…you’ve got nice fur. Maybe I should slit your throat. Make a coat out of your soft fur.”
The Cat gives a condescending laugh. “Good luck trying, my little angry sheepherder. For, you see, I rarely connect my body to my head nowadays, since the Queen of Hearts wants to separate the two, you see.”
Malice feels some relief as she hears three or so of the g
uard cards running up behind her.
Bo Peep gives a mocking laugh to them. “What, you need your armed guards to fight off a little girl?!” she screeches.
“Just put the dagger down,” Malice says.
The guards go to stand protectively in front of Malice and the Hatter.
Bo Peep glares past them, at Malice. “You’ve got real nice skin, miss. Perhaps I should cut it from your flesh and make a skin suit out of it!”
The Cat hisses at her, and Malice is glad that he’s on her side. The Hatter, meanwhile, is whimpering. He’s a lover, not a fighter, but Malice still adores him.
Malice says, “How dare you talk to me like that! You need to put that dagger down.” She gives a look to one of the cards who gets the message.
The guard card says, “Yes, little miss. Please put the dagger away. We don’t want to have to hurt you.”
Bo Peep shrugs and slips the dagger back into its sheath. “Four big mean ol’ guards for one little girl? Pathetic. I’d love to cut you all up and make coats out of you, but you’re not worth the trouble. I’ve got to go find my sheep.” She goes back to walking down the trail.
They watch her for some moments, before the Hatter gives a loud exhale of relief. “Well that was a most unpleasant encounter.”
“Yes,” Malice says. “I wonder where all that anger came from.”
The Hatter says, “Must’ve come from her twisted nature.”
“She was an obnoxious runt!” the Cat shouts. “I would’ve loved to have seen you kick the little squirt’s rump for speaking to you that way.”
“Well thanks for sticking up for me,” Malice says.
“Of course,” the Cat says. “You’re my queen.”
“Hmm,” Malice says. “See, sometimes you’re not completely obnoxious. My concern though, is that all the fairy tale beings might turn out to be as vicious as her. If so, they might provide difficulties for our guards, when dealing with them.”
The Hatter says, “Well the Storyteller wants to send them through the Looking Glass.”
“Into the outside world?” She bites her lip in worry. “I don’t think that would be good, either. They’d wreak havoc on those nonmagical folks, and try to kill Alice.” She sighs. “I think we may be in for some difficult times. But in any case, it’s good to be back. Come, let’s get settled back in our home.”
Chapter 22
It takes a bit of time for the Queen of Hearts and the Storyteller to walk from the Fairy Tale Castle, to the Looking Glass House, but locations within Wonderland never seem to be all that far from each other. Why, the Queen of Hearts once heard that locations in the outside world can be days walking distance from each other, but then, obviously, time and space operates differently in Wonderland than in the nonmagical, “outside world”.
The Queen of Hearts is grateful the journey is short, so she doesn’t have to keep listening to the Storyteller talk about how much he misses his daughter, who still hasn’t returned.
The house used to be guarded by the Jabberwock, but after Alice had left Wonderland, there was no longer a need to guard it, since none of the citizens of Wonderland are able to go through the Looking Glass. (Oh, and besides, the Jabberwock had been beheaded.)
They walk into the room, to see that an impostor Queen (wearing a crown) is cooing at the mirror and caressing it.
The Queen of Hearts thinks that’s a bit odd and she’s not too keen on yet another queen showing up in Wonderland to challenge her nobility but there she is.
“What are you doing here?” the Storyteller says, the hint of accusation in his voice.
The woman jolts in surprise. “What? I was just—who are you?”
“I am the Storyteller, and this is the Queen of Hearts.”
The woman’s eyes widen. “Yes, the Storyteller. I can sense the power on you. It connects with the fairy tale energy within me.”
“You are one of the fairy tale beings?” he asks.
“Of course. I am Snow White’s Evil Queen. I can sense the great fairy tale power coming off of you from when you filled yourself with it during the release.”
The Queen of Hearts considers the Storyteller. He doesn’t look any different than his usual bald-spotted glasses-wearing self, and she certainly doesn’t see any wafting energy beams or whatnot.
“What do you mean?” the Storyteller says. He seems perplexed as well.
Snow White’s Queen says, “When you released the fairy tales, it filled you with power over them. I can sense it. You have the ability to shape the fairy tales and their stories.”
“Yes, I have been able from the beginning.”
“Your power is much much greater now. Which is why, now, perhaps you can do what I cannot.” She motions toward the Looking Glass.
The Storyteller looks at it. “And what is that?”
“I wish to go through the Looking Glass into the outside world, to slay the Fairy Tale Slayer.”
The Queen of Hearts interrupts, “Alice? She hasn’t slayed any fairy tales yet, right?”
“Oh, but according to the prophesies she will,” Snow White’s Queen says. “And I want to be the one who ends her. But the mirror won’t let me through. But you’re the Storyteller, you can change my story, change the way things work.”
The Storyteller arches a brow. “Yes, well, I only change things for the sake of a good story. I wish my stories to have excitement, drama, suspense!” He raises a hand pointing a finger upward, and it quivers with his determination.
“Well don’t you think it’d be pretty exciting for the mirror to let all the fairy tale beings through? I mean, it’s even part of the prophesies and everything. But nooooo, she won’t let me.”
“She?” the Storyteller says.
Snow White’s Queen shrugs. “Well, it feels like a she to me. When I touch it. Come now, maybe you should give it a try—try to communicate with it a little.”
He arches a brow again. “The Looking Glass speaks to you when you touch it?”
“Yes, because I’m a fairy tale being, I think. She makes it very clear she shall not let me through.”
“Hmm,” the Storyteller says as he begins to walk over. “I think I will give it a try.”
He presses his fingertips daintily to the Looking Glass surface. “Looking Glass can you hear me? Can you tell me how to help send the fairy tale beings through you? Is there a dramatic way that would make a grand story?” He cocks his head. “I think I hear something…” He presses his ear to the Looking Glass. “Yes? Oh, yes I agree…wonderful… Yes, I can do that. Thank you.”
So with a big grin upon his face, he turns away from the mirror and addresses them. “It turns out that Snow White’s Queen here was correct. The unleashing of the fairy tales has surged their power into me, and I now have great control over their stories. I shall not abuse that power. I will, however, make a very interesting story. I will make a game.”
“A game?” the Queen of Hearts says. “What’s the prize?”
He beams at her. “For you, you may win back control over Wonderland. For the fairy tales, they will be granted the opportunity to go to the outside world and take their swing against Alice the Fairy Tale Slayer. But I haven’t worked out all the details and rules, however. I shall do that tonight. Tomorrow, the game shall begin.”
And the next thing the Queen of Hearts knows, she’s being enveloped in a cloud of smoke before everything goes black.
Chapter 23
Malice lines up her shot on the makeshift miniature golf course. “It’s just that I don’t know what to do about them. They far outnumber my guard cards.” She hits the ball up a ramp towards a hole on top of it, but the ball strikes the barrier and rolls back down. “Shoot!”
The young glasses-wearing boy of 17, named Humpty, says, “Hopefully things will simmer down once they get settled in.” Humpty Dumpty used to be a vicious egg-shaped guy in the past, but now he is an attractive, cute boy who Malice quite fancies. Since it is his turn, he begins lining up f
or his shot up the ramp.
Now the Mad Hatter, the third player, speaks up. “How many did you say your guards counted?”
Malice thinks the Hatter is quite attractive as well, but the problem is he’s in his mid-twenties while Malice is 15, but since the Wonderland beings don’t age, but she does, she knows she’ll eventually catch up.
He’s referring to the fact that in the past few days, a swarm of twisted fairy tale beings have taken up residence in Wonderland, each staking out their own area. And they are being vicious, ruthless troublemakers, who aren’t leaving through the Looking Glass for some reason. In one way, that’s good, since she doesn’t want them making trouble in the outside world, but on the other hand, this means that she and the Wonderland citizens will have to deal with them. She had sent her guard cards out to assess the situation and they had made the count of fairy tale creatures of, “43,” she says.
Humpty goes for his shot up the ramp and makes it. “Ah ha! So I win this round. That’s two for me.”
One of the guard cards approaches Malice. “Your Highness, the Storyteller is here to speak to you, and also to help you against the giant.”
“What giant?”
“The Jack and the Beanstalk Giant. He’s approaching and doesn’t seem all that friendly.”
Malice lets her golf club drop. “Why didn’t you tell me earlier?”
“Well, before, Your Highness, he was merely milling about. We had no idea he desired to eat you, as he was muttering.”
“Oh? Is that what he said?”
“Yes. The good news is the Storyteller says he can help.”
“Well where is he?”
Within moments, Malice and her playmates arrive at the front door of the castle.
Outside, next to the door is the Storyteller holding a leather bag. Next to him is the floating Cheshire Cat’s head.
In the distance, Malice sees the lumbering figure of Jack’s Giant walking their way. This is the first time she’s seen him and she doesn’t relish the prospect of meeting him. Why, he must be thirty feet tall! Three of the guard cards are shouting up at him, trying to keep up with his long strides.