Malice in Wonderland Bundle 2

by Lotus Rose

  “Let’s get to it,” says Tweedledee.

  Tweedledum’s face contorts into rage. In an astoundingly loud voice, he shouts, “Oh, you are so beautiful! We shall kidnap you and make you our, er, my girlfriend, I mean frog, um, wife. We’re taking you away from here!”

  “Likewise!” Tweedledee shouts.

  The twins each hook onto one of the girl’s arms and pretend to try to pull her away as the girl pretends to struggle. “Husband!” she shouts. “These boys find me desirable and wish to take me away! Doesn’t that make you realize how much you cherish me?! Ack! Save me!”

  In the middle of the pond, upon his lily pad, the frog shouts, “Hey, let her go! Let my wife go!”

  The girl stops fake-struggling. “Oh no! They’ll take me away from you, then you’ll realize how much you miss me!” She starts coughing—she overdid it with the yelling. In between coughing, she manages to mutter, “Tell him…he’ll…miss me!”

  Tweedledum lets the girl go for a moment, to cup his hands over his mouth and yell, “You’ll realize how much you miss her!” He lowers his hands to think for a moment before cupping his mouth again. “You’ll realize she’s your sun and moon. I’m telling you, you’ll miss her so much!”

  Now Tweedledee lets her go, to cup his mouth and shout, “She is the stars in your sky, lighting up the darkness of your soul, you’ll realize!”

  “You nitwits,” Malice mutters out the side of her mouth. “You’re supposed to be holding the girl.”

  “Hrrmph. Frog,” the girl corrects.

  “Oops, sorry.” Tweedledee says. “Likewise,” the other says.

  The girl is graciously holding her bent arms for them to latch onto, and they do so.

  The Frog Princess shouts, “If you love me, you’ll come over here and rescue me!”

  “Yeah!” Tweedledum shouts. “And make sure to leave the ball behind.”

  Malice quietly hisses at him. “Idiot! Shouldn’t’ve mentioned the ball!”

  “Sorry,” Tweedledum says.

  “He’s a moron,” mutters Tweedledee.

  In the pond, the frog is gazing longingly at his ball, but a determined look comes across his face. He turns his attention back to them. “Unhand them, vile land-dwellers, or face my wrath!” And with that, he leaps into the water.

  After the frog has been swimming a few seconds, Malice watches Humpty burst from the trees, run and jump into the pond. She doesn’t acknowledge the fact, though—her and the twins’ job is to distract the frog and make sure he doesn’t turn around. The Hatter meanwhile, is making a mad dash for the archway door, his hand pressed atop his hat to keep it from being dislodged.

  While he’s swimming, the frog shouts occasional utterances such as, “Watch out!” “Let her go!”

  The princess valiantly struggles, and cries, “Yes, rescue me, my darling, for we were meant to be together, and you can’t bear to be without me!”

  The frog crawls ashore. He is fifteen feet away, and quite large—the distance from the ground to the top of his head must be about five feet.

  In the distance, Humpty heaves himself onto the lily pad.

  “Oh, save me!” the girl whimpers.

  The frog takes a couple awkward steps—it is clear he’s more at home in aquatic settings. “Unhand her, you foul apes!” he shouts.

  Upon the lily pad, Humpty throws the ball toward the Mad Hatter, who is standing at the door. The ball bounces on the ground and carries forward in the general direction of the Hatter, who is currently assessing where to run in order to catch it.

  The twins’ job now is to put on a convincing kidnapping show, draw it out long enough for the door to be opened, then release the Frog Princess.

  The frog awkwardly hops up to them, as in the distance, the Mad Hatter starts shooting baskets—he misses his first attempt.

  “Darling, help!” the princess yelps.

  “That is my wife!” the frog says. “You have no right to ever touch her!”

  Tweedledum says, “Well we think she’s very beautiful and admirable and we would be sure to cherish her and value how important she is to us, when we make her our, um, my girlfriend.”

  “Wife,” Tweedledum says.

  “Quite,” his brother replies.

  The frog says, “Who are these guys?”

  “I don’t know!” shouts the princess. “Some guys who would truly value how important I am to them. If they take me away, you would certainly miss me, wouldn’t you?”

  The frog seems to ponder that a moment. “Yes. I realize, I’ve become distant lately. I should’ve worked harder on creating intimacy in our relationship. From now on, I shall.”

  Malice gags a little.

  The frog glances at her. “And who are you? And you, cat head?”

  The Cat sticks his tongue out.

  Malice searches her mind panicedly for something to say. “I’m their daughter,” she blurts.

  The frog returns his attention back. “Let her go, or I shall kill you all.”

  “Umm…” Tweedledee says. “Not yet.”

  In the distance, the Hatter shoots the ball in the basket, causing the door to vanish, revealing pure black inside the archway. He tosses the ball back toward Humpty on the lily pad, but it falls short and plops into the water.

  The frog turns slightly at the sound, looking as if he might look back there.

  “Hey!” the princess shouts.

  The distraction works and the frog looks at her, as she says, “If I manage to escape, will you grant me more snuggle time?”

  “Yes, I don’t ever want to lose you. I…love you.”

  “Awww,” says the Cat and makes kissy noises.

  In the distance, Humpty sets the ball back on the lily pad and jumps back into the water.

  Malice says, “Come on lads, I mean brothers. I mean, dads. Let’s go. We don’t want to get in the way of their love.”

  “Righto,” says Tweedledum. “Terribly sorry for the inconvenience. We’ll be going now.”

  The frog says, “Not so fast. You must pay the price.”

  “Price?” Tweedledee says. “What do you mean by—”

  It happens so quickly, it’s a blur—something red flicks out of the frog’s mouth and slaps into Tweedledee’s face.

  Malice realizes now that it is the frog’s tongue—stretching nearly six feet and stuck to the front of Tweedledee’s face. His uncovered eyes are wide with fear. His arms flap in alarm as the group watches on.

  Tweedledum lets go of the girl, trying to decide what to do.

  Tweedledee struggles against the tongue, but the frog pulls him forward in the mud.

  Tweedledum lets out a yelp of pain. Malice is puzzled to see the princess pressing the top of her fist against his stomach.

  Meanwhile, Tweedledee grabs a clump of mud and tosses it into the frog’s eyes. The frog closes them, but his tongue keeps its hold upon Tweedledee’s face.

  Malice jumps into action, grabbing a clump of mud and when the frog once again opens his eyes, she forcefully throws the mud into them.

  Malice looks to see Tweedledum lying on the ground. The princess is stabbing him over and over with a dagger. His abdomen is sliced open and pouring blood.

  Malice must choose who to help. She picks up a large nearby rock and slams it into the frog’s head—once, twice.

  The frog wobbles, and releases Tweedledee, retracting his tongue back inside his mouth.

  Malice looks to the right to see the princess crouched over Tweedledum, her mouth latched onto his neck, sucking his blood? The dagger is lying upon the ground.

  The frog is twisting and lurching, his eyes still closed. “I’ll kill you!”

  Malice throws the rock at the frog’s head, but misses as the amphibian lurches about, but now, Tweedledee throws a heavy rock into the frog’s head, who lets out a shout of pain.

  Malice hears a loud thud. She sees Humpty, still wet from the pond—the girl’s head is bloody from a strike of a large branch in Humpty’s
hands. The girl’s mouth had been knocked loose from Tweedledum’s neck, but she latches on once more and once more Humpty shouts and hits her in the side of the head.

  “He’s stunned and blind!” the Cat exclaims, referring to the frog. “Keep pummeling him!”

  And that’s what Malice and Tweedledee do, picking up the rocks, and throwing them into the frog’s head over and over.

  The Hatter has arrived now, and watches on helplessly.

  And the Cat yells, “Finish him!”

  The frog is dazed and barely moving, merely grunting at this point. Malice looks over at the dagger with the thought of using it on the frog.

  She is puzzled to see that Tweedledum is nowhere in sight. Humpty now has the knife—he’s crouched behind the girl, slicing her throat, which gushes blood.

  Malice watches in horror, unable to turn away.

  The girl grins a creepy, bloody fanged grin. Her body glows white, before vanishing.

  Humpty meets Malice’s eyes briefly before turning his attention to the frog.

  Tweedledee is still throwing his stone into the frog’s bloodied head. The frog barely seems conscious. Humpty walks up to the frog, aiming the dagger at one of the frog’s eyes, and Malice turns away. She hears a sickening wet stab sound, and the Cat shout out “Woo hoo!” before she covers her ears.

  After several long moments, she feels a tap on her shoulder.

  “The frog is dead,” Humpty says.

  “And my brother too!” wails Tweedledee.

  Malice turns to see no dead bodies. “Where have they gone?”

  Humpty says, “They vanished the moment they were killed.”

  In a whisper, Malice says, “Tweedledum too?” She doesn’t want to accept it.

  “Yes,” Humpty says. “The girl…cut him and…drank of his blood, I saw him disappear.”

  Tweedledee wails, “Oh my poor brother! Why’d she attack him?!” He breaks down into sobs.

  She asks where the bodies disappeared to, but no one has any answers.

  The game must continue, and they do their best to console Tweedledee before they step through the archway labeled Shoes to the next square.

  At least now they have a dagger, which they give to the Mad Hatter. And they carry branches to use as weapons if necessary. They will not be so trusting on the next square.

  Chapter 27

  The Queen of Hearts and her team—the Brothers Grimm, a guard card, and the Knight—get to choose one of the four remaining squares on the first row. Ribbit has already been taken. She chooses the square labeled Oink.

  The voice of the Cat startles her, when he says right into her ear, “Did I miss anything?”

  She exclaims, “Blimey, you blasted cat! Don’t sneak up on me like that!”

  “Oh, you won’t believe what just happened to the other team! It was amazing!”

  “Oh? What happened?”

  With a smirk, the Cat says, “Perhaps I’ll tell you after the game. I’m not supposed to interfere.”

  “Oh, blast you, furball!” she says, which only draws a chuckle from the Cat.

  The Knight says, “So we just step on that there square, then?”

  The Queen of Hearts shrugs. “I suppose so. Well, time’s a’wastin’. Let’s hop to it!”

  “Time’s a’wasting!” the Cat mocks. “Let’s float to it!”

  The Queen of Hearts mocks back, “Yes, some of us have couth and aren’t little pussy cats who are scared to reveal our bodies. So, now, watch me step, while you float, always floating, aren’t you?” And with that snub, she steps into the boundaries of the square. Since the surroundings immediately change as her toe touches, it’s clear that the rest of her team aren’t required to step in as well.

  They are looking at an entirely different scene. In front of them are three quite small huts that each can’t be more than ten feet in diameter. The one on the far left looks to be made of straw. The one in the middle is made of sticks, and the one on the right is made of bricks. Each of them has a chimney and a little set of stairs leading up to the front porch in front of the door.

  Behind the three little huts, conveniently positioned in between the first and second hut so they can see it, is a wooden door in a stone archway rising up from the grass—what’s weird is that there are no walls out to the side, it’s just a door. On top, it is labeled with the word: Heads. Two archways are to their left and right, each filled with total blackness. The left archway is labeled: Muffet. The right archway: Quack.

  There is also a sign off to the side.

  Jacob looks at his brother, and says, “Look familiar?”

  “Aye. The Three Little Pigs?”

  His brother nods. “Aye.”

  The Knight says, “Wasn’t that the one with the wolf, who was huffing and puffing?” He sounds a little afraid, while looking around.

  In his thick German accent, Jacob says, “Aye, lad, my brother and I created them, created all the fairy tales.”

  The Queen of Hearts says, “Enough chit chat, you dolts, let’s go read the sign.” Since she is the Queen, she naturally takes the best position to read it, which she does so aloud: “Within each of these huts is a pig who wears a key around his neck. The door to the next square ahead requires all three keys to be opened. You have been provided a match stick and a grenade that shall explode ten seconds after being lit.”

  At the bottom of the sign rests a matchbox and a hand grenade. The grenade is an egg-shaped metal device with a wick coming out the top. The wick has a metal cap that when pulled off, lights the fuse.

  “Righto,” says the Queen of Hearts. “You brothers know the most about the pigs, so what’s your suggestion?”

  The Brothers Grimm exchange glances.

  Jacob says, “If it’s anything like the tale we created, we should go to the straw hut first, then sticks, then bricks.”

  The Cat says, “But your tale also had a wolf, and I don’t see one.”

  The Queen of Hearts says, “I was just about to say that!” She loathes the idea of being shown up by the idiotic Cat.

  The Cat sticks his tongue out at her.

  Jacob says, “Well, all the fairy tales have been twisted, so we should be wary of any differences.”

  “Very well,” says the Queen of Hearts. “So who’s going to knock on the straw hut door? For it shan’t be me.”

  “Perhaps you should draw straws,” says the Cat.

  “I shall heroically go!” proclaims the Knight. “After all, it is only a little pig in there right?” He nudges Wilhelm, then says under his breath, “You don’t think the wolf’s in there, do you?”

  Wilhelm shrugs, and the Knight looks somewhat doubtful before saying, “Unless Your Highness thinks someone else should go. After all, as one of your fine knights, I am vastly important to the crown.”

  The Queen of Hearts shakes her head. “No, you shall do. Carry on…”

  The rest of the group stand a distance away as the Knight walks up to the straw hut. He is quite loud and clanking—he doesn’t seem like a very agile knight. He even falls down once and nearly trips walking up the stairs to the porch.

  He draws his sword and raps on the wooden door with his gauntleted fist.

  From behind the closed door comes a high-pitched voice, “Yes. Who is it?”

  “T’is I, the valiant Knight! I am here to command…” he thinks for a moment.

  From her vantage point, the Queen of Hearts can see his mouth working from side to side—she can see his head because he has misplaced his helmet somewhere. He is no doubt trying to remember his line. Finally, he says, “Little piggy, um—” He turns around and implores the brothers, “Sorry. Seem to have forgotten…”

  Jacob groans. “Little pig little pig let me in.”

  “Righto.” The Knight faces the door. “Little piggy. Little piggy ye shall let me enter, forsooth!”

  The high-pitched voice replies, “Not by my chin hair, you twit so uncouth!”

  The Knight calls, “The
n I’ll huff and I’ll puff and blow to pieces of the hut…in.”

  Jacob and Wilhelm both groan. One of them mutters, “Nitwit.”

  The pig laughs. “What? Do you think you are the wolf? I can see through my peephole that you are not, and you don’t have the wolf’s head to blow a strong wind—that’s worn by my brother.”

  “Eh? What do you mean?”

  The pig replies, “That big bad wolf, who you alluded to in your rhyme. He blew our former huts down, but my two brothers and I got our revenge. We killed him and built our huts again, and now we each wear a part of the wolf’s body.”

  “Your other two brothers?”

  “Yes, one in the stick hut, and one in the brick.”

  “Are they pigs too?”

  “I say, is the reason you’re so dumb that you got knocked about the head a few too many times without wearing your helmet?”

  The Knight thinks. “I say, lad, you just might be onto something. In any case, you each have a piece of the wolf that you murdered?”

  “It was more like self defense. And yes, I have his tail. My brother has the claws, with which to slash, and my other brother has the head, with which to blow.”

  “Oh, well, those sound like most splendid and magical relics. Say, my lad, do you happen to have a key around your neck?”

  “Yes, it is for the door back there, but I won’t let you have it, not by the hair of my chinny chin chin.”

  “Well, then, I won’t blow your house in, but I may have to valiantly hack and kick your door in.”

  “Eh? What’d be so valiant about your hacking and kicking?”

  “It would be on account of it being my heroic knightly foot and sword employing those actions.”

  “Not sure I quite agree with that. In any case, it wouldn’t work, since our huts are magically protected. The only things that can work upon them is the red-headed stick or the wolf’s mouth, and even those won’t work upon the brick hut.”

  “What stick?”

  “Sorry, I’m not going to say another word.”

  “Just tell me what stick. Pig? Answer me, please.” The Knight turns to address his group. “Behold my mighty prowess and heroism, for I am going in!” He slams his sword against the wooden door twice, without so much as nicking the wood. “Ow, ow!” He tries hacking away at the straw walls, with the same result. He shouts, trying ineffectually to rub his arm through his armor. He lifts his foot and stomps his steel booted foot into the door and promptly propels backward and topples over, sliding down the stairs on his back.