Dorothy: The Darker Side of OZ v5

by Scott Stanford

  Over a dozen had tried to escape, but brought back to the witch she showed them no bane, instead she let them spend the day by her side; resting in her dank grotto before feasting on gourmet foods they’d only served before. For a while, they thought their act had struck compassion in the witch and they ate until their bellies were full and drank until they were merry. Then after supper, they were escorted to the newly grown twisted trees that stood twelve feet high as they sprouted through the ruler’s land. Avatonika had come to love the suffering plants that dare grow in her domain, and watched in awe as some persisted to live, deformed by the lack of light and her own dark presence as the weaker simply chose to die. Struggling to stand and drunk on ale the munchkins who had been pampered by the witch stood in front of the trees, watching as their loved ones; brothers, friends and children stood on the branches. Waving at first, unsure of the scene and their vision slightly a blur they turned to the witch confused. So she smiled and looked out to the twisted trees, as with a point of her finger dozens and dozens of munchkins stepped from the branches. Their bodies hung like decorations as their necks snapped within tight nooses.

  Subdued, the munchkins caused the witch no more troubles, and she even sent them to war with the other corners, killing many. Then those who could simply not bear her ruling would be found hanging themselves from the trees.

  In her slaves submission Avatonika found no more challenges, and the faces of the munchkins still shone prettier than her own, despite what she had taken from them. That’s when she could suffer their skin no more, and decided to change their race.

  The women were caged and force bred with vicious creatures from the west that were known for their carnivorous nature. Their race were known to keep its prey alive for days, sometimes weeks as it would feed on it bit by bit, torturing the food constantly until it expired. The witch could not resist such a combination and sent the male munchkins out to hunt for flesh in the east. Then when the first wave of babies was born the witch felt a comfort in their deformities and doubled the breeding, making the women suffer the process as the males would either hunt or take care of the new babes.

  As years went by the witch’s new breed grew strong in numbers and they wanted nothing more than to cause pain. Their bloodthirsty nature made them perfect hunters, and although being slaves the witch would let them freely roam the land, knowing that they only lived to serve their mother. Her new race surpassed anything she’d hoped for the pureblood munchkins, and soon she had no need for them. With her new breed in the hundreds and her originals slaves, she wanted their pretty faces erased.

  The massacre went on for days, and whilst a number of munchkins escaped to find refuge beyond the east, hundreds were killed by the hybrids they’d nurtured, and the others were simply eaten.’

  5

  With her skin trembling and tears dried to her cheeks Dorothy’s still crouched on shattered stones in the grotto, trying to absorb the white ones story as she stares into the cage. Opening her mouth to taste the cold brimstone air she pushes out the words, ‘Who are you?’ as the caged woman replies, ‘I am Bopeia, witch of the north.’

  Dorothy sobs at first, and then laughs almost deliriously, ‘G…goblins, witches. What’s wrong with me…If…if you’re a witch why didn’t you stop her?’

  Regretfully Bopeia answers, ‘I’m not as powerful as she was, otherwise I would have ended it long ago. You must be careful now child, as Outika shall surely try to find you.’

  ‘W…who?’

  ‘She is the witch of the west. Once there were four of us child, we were to govern the land’s four points. Though Avatonika and Outika abused their power, they’ve changed the east and west, corrupted our world.’

  Bopeia stretches a hand out of the cage and gently places it on top of the young girl’s. Dorothy doesn’t flinch, just feels the warm skin press against her cold fingers, slick with blood as she looks into the witch’s purple eyes, ‘I used to be like you, pink, fleshy, but Outika made sure I never forget who I am, pure, a white witch. She scarred me many years ago, confined my limbs and scolded me with burning liquid. It tore the colour from my body.’

  ‘What…what will she do to me?’

  ‘…Oz has never been civilized, we are a separate world, and Outika is the wickedest of all. I do not envy you, I am sorry.’

  ‘What…what’s Oz…How can I leave?’ the young girl asks softly.

  ‘This land, our world is Oz; you don’t belong here at all do you?’ the witch answers. Scared, pulling her hand back quickly Dorothy presses her weight toward the cage, grabbing at the bars as she begs frantically:

  ‘I want to go home, please, please help me!’

  ‘Where is home?’

  ‘K…Kansas.’

  ‘…That’s not in our world child. You must go to the wizard; he is the only one who can help you.’

  ‘The wizard?’ Dorothy asks with a jolted whimper, as a faint cynical laugh creeps up her throat. ‘I can help you find him, but please free me,’ Bopeia says, almost bartering for her freedom with Dorothy as the girl’s bound hands shake as she removes the lock.

  The cage opens and the young girl steps backwards, still sceptical as the witch walks free, holding out a sincere hand. Breathing harder, wondering if it’s all a trick Dorothy looks around quickly, searching for a weapon as she feels at her fingernails, sharp enough to wound the old woman if she has to. Unbinding the young girl’s hands Bopeia comforts her scepticism with the words, ‘I’ll help you find your way home,’ as she guides her past the tar pit. Dorothy feels tired, too worn to keep on guard as she puts her weight against Bopeia, deciding to trust her as she has no-one else in this strange world.

  Walking her out of the grotto the witch stands still for a moment, pointing over to Avatonika’s throne as Dorothy sees the gleam of the silver boots. Bopeia looks down at the girl’s shoes, covered in insect blood and torn by thorns, her feet cut open and infected. ‘Take her boots,’ offers the witch, ‘Think of them as your trophy,’ and Dorothy walks to the throne, her feet too sore to argue. Stepping into the dark she places her hands on the boots, undoing the laces and removing them from the dead witch’s feet without hesitation. Grasping them in her hands she holds her breath, looking down into the darkness one last time as she stares at the witch’s hideous face to feel unnerved. Pulling away quickly Dorothy’s stomach turns, her vision starts to blur. Before she can reach out a hand to Bopeia she crashes to the floor, as the boots fall from her palms and her body scrapes against the jagged stones.

  Feeling cold metal under her body Dorothy twitches her hands, waking to the smell of seared meat. In shock, gasping for air she spots unusual dead animal carcases hanging from butcher hooks, and as her eyes focus on Bopeia she grabs tightly onto the metal table. ‘It’s okay child, you’re safe, you’ve been asleep for hours,’ the witch comforts, but Dorothy snaps, ‘Where am I?’ as one of the munchkins hands her a glass of water and tells her she’s in Avatonika’s kitchen, where her fresh meat used to be prepared. Taking the water gratefully Dorothy calms and quenches her thirst, looking down to her bare feet, clean of blood and her wounds sewn shut. She stares to the witch with confused gratitude, giving a, ‘How…thank you,’ before rushing her words, ‘Home, please, the wizard, I need to find him, can you help me?’ as Bopeia replies:

  ‘You’ll have to go to Emerald city my dear, it is in the midlands, there you’ll find him. His castle is the largest in Oz and you may have already seen it, but be careful, the geography of our world is deceptive and your journey will be long.’

  ‘Can you come with me?’ Dorothy pleads, and the witch holds her hand with a sympathetic smile:

  ‘I’m sorry my dear I can’t do that, but I can guide you. You will find a road of yellow bricks and you must follow them, they’ll lead you to Emerald city, but be careful, and do not stray from the path. To the north of the city is my country, and to the south Quadling country, home of the good witch Notou. Though you must remember, just because Notou and
I are good that doesn’t mean our countries are safe. Oz can be pleasant, but also dark and terrible, you must be careful.’

  ‘I…I’m scared…’ The young girl murmurs, as the witch looks to her with caring eyes:

  ‘I know, and you need to be, it will keep you on guard. Whatever you do, no-matter who you find along your way do not journey to the west, it is the country where Outika rules over the winkies. They are a calculated race cloned by the witch and their teeth and fingers are as sharp as razors, and even though their eyes are sewn shut you should never go near one.’

  ‘I…I’ve seen them, the Lairman’s they…’

  ‘If you have seen winkies in the east I can assure you they are nothing compared to those in the west. This is where the rejected clones are brought so that they can nourish Avatonika’s munchkins, they are nothing compared to the monsters Outika surrounds herself with.’

  ‘Anything else?’ Dorothy asks, as her eyes lie fixated on the witch. Quickly she accepts the strangeness of this world and simply wants to go home, no-matter what she has to go through. Trying to absorb Bopeia’s warnings, she listens carefully to her words:

  ‘Oz is like an island, surrounded by the moving desert. It is alive and will swallow you whole if you let it, digesting you slowly like a snake, as it has hundreds before. To leave Oz you must go to the Emerald city and nowhere else. ’

  ‘Will, will the wizard help me?’ Dorothy asks,

  ‘He is a powerful wizard, but whether he will choose to help you I cannot say. Some believe he is a monster, though others call him a saviour.’

  Dorothy’s chest quivers as silence falls, and she watches Bopeia remove a small black key from around her neck. The necklace tied with simple string she places it in Dorothy’s hand and closes it tightly as the young girl feels the cold metal in her palm.

  ‘You will need this to get back, it will send you home when you need it the most, but only the key knows when, no-one can take it from you…I am sorry but I cannot protect you from the witch when she tries to find you, and she will. This is not Kansas anymore Dorothy and you need to be strong, or Outika will make you her slave and you will never leave.’

  Opening her hand and looking at the key Dorothy hears one of the munchkins say, ‘Have a safe journey Dorothy,’ and another stands in front of her, wanting attention as she smiles with a tear dripping down her face, ‘Thank you, you’ve saved us.’ Still sitting on the metal table, looking back at the small key with an odd smile she hears Bopeia offer, ‘There is food in the cupboards, help yourself, the road of yellow bricks is nearby and cannot be missed.’ Dorothy raises her eyes to watch Bopeia and the munchkins walk through an open door. She stands, moving quickly as she follows them out of the kitchen to see no trace of the witch or the munchkins, only the cold streets and an azure glow.

  Walking back into the kitchen and trying to ignore the skinned animal carcases hanging from the racks Dorothy opens a cupboard, then another. Finding odd pieces of food she throws chunks of bread into her mouth eagerly and drinks more water before eating again. Picking as she goes along Dorothy feels her empty stomach fill, and grabs at a small wicker basket as she packs it with food and water for the journey. Feeling the cold floor against her bare feet, she places the basket down and looks over to the witch’s silver boots. Wondering if they will fit she knows she’ll need them for the long walk, and puts them on to feel the cold leather touch her skin. A little loose Dorothy pulls the laces tightly then ties the small black key around her neck before picking up the wicker basket. Finally, she feels at the small thin bag around her shoulder and checks Toto’s safe, sighing in relief as she quickly peers inside to see his comforting eyes stare back at her.

  Leaving the kitchen and stepping back onto the cold bleak streets she fears for a second that Avatonika’s munchkins may find her and moves quickly. Unsure where she is Dorothy ignores the skin hanging from the wires above her and walks briskly past the tall buildings as vines pulse like veins. Walking further, passing the dark alleyways, bright blue eyes lurk inside and she feels her nerves bite, moving quicker, turning a corner and then another to look in amazement between two tall buildings. In shock, she stops dead in her tracks and almost drops the wicker basket as she looks out to the open countryside, the sky a different shade and the surroundings out of place. Dishevelled buildings lie scattered along the tall grey grass, the sky is a murky pale blue and farmhouses stand next to modern day structures. Dorothy’s amazed and her eyes flow past the odd broken blue fences in the distance, to fields of dead crops and small blue huts amongst peculiar trees. Odd deformed crows fly, dead plants still continue to grow and Dorothy glances at the grass, then the sky to imagine how much colour they used to have before Avatonika drained it. Looking far ahead she can see the pale victimised countryside span as a deep dark forest waits in the distance, and the wizard’s ominous castle rules above it all, so far away from where she stands.

  Scared but trying her best not to be she looks at the path in front of her, to the dull road of yellow bricks as their cracks fill with a black liquid and sparse roots try to pry free. Preparing herself for the journey, she sets a foot onto the path to hear a cry from the vast countryside, followed by the soar of a murder of crows as she grips to Toto’s bag tightly, ready.

  DOROTHY

  6

  As her heavy boots crush at the unusual tiny bodies of insects Dorothy strides along the yellow brick road. She’d been walking for at least an hour and still hears the odd tortured screams, followed by the cackle of crows in the distance. Her eyes follow them into the dull blue sky but they always land in different places, swarming around fields of dead crops.

  She hadn’t met anyone since she started her trek and part of her felt relieved, even though she was bored and alone. Occasionally she would sing to herself, or talk aloud to Toto, but this would often be followed by the odd rustling of bushes, so she didn’t want to continue.

  Dorothy feels as if she’d been watched since she stepped onto the road, though dare not bring attention to it; instead she walks calmly, listening for the slightest sound. In her stride she touches at the long grey grass, taking blades between her fingers and feeling their oily skin before they pull away. Walking past the sparse dilapidated buildings she notices some resemble those in the city, though others are terrifically different, almost archaic and she stands amazed, wondering if the munchkins used to live in them.

  Dorothy takes a deep breath and huffs; she had been walking long enough to regain her appetite and hungers for fruit, though the trees are barren. She can’t help but pity the land, and walking calmly she feels hidden eyes leering at her again. Standing still, suddenly sensing the presence of a body behind her she clenches a fist. Slowly turning she expected to see someone but lets out a squeal as she stares at the figure, close enough to feel the chill from its body. Wrapped in a large brown cloak he towers six feet, but Dorothy stands still, wondering how he could get so close without making a sound. Glaring at the figure, with its face hidden and limbs tucked away he stands silently as Dorothy waits, unsure what to say and needing to show her assertiveness. ‘What do you want?’ she shouts, but receives no reply. Tightening her fist and trying to peer through the darkness under his hood to see a face Dorothy asks again, ‘What is it you want?’ Answered with a long croaked breath before he slithers the words:

  ‘White, a witch I see, new are you? And blue…You must be for the munchkin’s entertainment. They’ll never find you I promise, how much sorceress?’

  Genuinely confused Dorothy brushes, ‘I’m sorry?’ inquisitively, as the stranger coils his words, ‘For you, how much?’ and she snaps back ‘I…I’m not for sale!’ She can imagine a smile creeping over his face as he continues, ‘A powerful sorceress maybe, but everything is for sale,’ before pulling a scaled green hand from beneath his cloak, offering it as leeches suck at the wrist. ‘Walk with me,’ he says, and Dorothy distances herself from him, turning her back to hear a leer, ‘You will soon, the carnival’s in t
own.’ About to walk further away she grits her teeth and spins her body, ready to shout vigorously but he’s already gone. A cold sweat creeps along her skin, and she starts to walk quickly along the road, wondering if the creature’s still watching her.

  After walking for several more hours Dorothy feels her legs weaken and sits at the side of the road. With her weight pressing on the wood of a broken blue fence, she pulls a canteen of water from the wicker basket and drinks thirstily. Staring out to the vast colourless countryside she notices the murky blue skies start to darken and wonders where to sleep. Looking at the odd abandoned buildings, thinking them the best place for refuge she spies a hut, its window lit by a candle as she slowly stands. Looking harder Dorothy can see the warm face of a munchkin, one untainted by Avatonika, and she packs away her canteen. With what she knows of their kind, the young girl thinks there’s no better option than to ask for help as nightfall approaches.

  Walking toward the hut and crushing down the tall grey grass with her boots Dorothy can’t hear their screams, and instead her attention fixes on the munchkin, who spots her and hides nervously. With a gentle knock on the door there’s no answer from inside and Dorothy taps again, still without response. Unsure of how to get the munchkins attention she speaks gently, announcing, ‘Hello, my name’s Dorothy and I need your help.’ Not a sound comes from the house and she tries again, gently tapping the door with the words, ‘Please, I’m cold and tired, a friend of Bopeia’s.’