Wonder Never (The Fairytale Diaries #2)

by Amanda Gatton

  Alice's Aunt Melanie made Julienne even more tired with a long stream of nonsensical chatter, and then abruptly told her to climb a ladder propped against the tall bed and get in.

  "W… What?" Julienne asked aghast.

  Alice looked even more uncomfortable and a quick look of dark aggravation crossed Melanie's face. "I'll be right her in the other bed, OK, Julienne?" Alice's slightly pleading tone suggested Julienne should not ask questions.

  She shifted from foot to foot looking around the room and back and forth between Alice and Melanie. A million questions were on her mind. She peered up at the bed and decided that despite the odd setup, it did look inviting. Exhaustion overwhelmed her. Her brain began to slow against her control. So, she relented. She sleepily dragged herself up the ladder and onto the mountain of mattresses.

  As soon as she made it, Melanie removed the ladder.

  "Hey! What are you doing?" Julienne demanded, glaring down over the edge.

  "Oh nothing, dear," Melanie said in a sing song voice that implied she was being ridiculously dishonest. Julienne sighed, too tired to argue. After all, ten feet wasn't so high she couldn't just down if necessary.

  After Melanie delivered a round of boisterous goodnights, she flurried out of the room leaving them with nothing but the remnants of her obnoxious floral scent.

  Alice stood gazing up at Julienne, who scurried under the silk quilt and settled back against the pillows.

  "Are you comfortable?" Alice asked politely.

  Julienne squirmed on the bed. "Actually, no!" she cried. "Ouch! I feel like there's something poking me!"

  The sound of Alice's forlorn sigh brought Julienne back to the edge of the bed to peek down. The look on her friend's face revealed that there was a lot she was keeping from Julienne.

  "Listen," Alice said. "Please just try and go to sleep, and everything will be fine tomorrow. I promise."

  Staring into Alice's eyes, she frowned sadly. But she agreed because she did not know what else to do.

  ***

  Alice's busy body aunt blustering into the room, flicking on the lights, and thunking the ladder back against the mattress roused Julienne from a restless, nightmarish sleep. She felt as though she'd only just closed her eyes.

  "Rise and shine!" Melanie said in her detestably cheery way. "Come down princess girl."

  "My name is Julienne," she grouched as she hauled herself out from beneath the covers. She grudgingly made her way down the ladder, noting Alice climbing out of her nearby bed as well.

  "Did you sleep well?" Melanie asked.

  Once her feet were firmly planted on the floor, Julienne replied. "Actually no. That was the most uncomfortable bed I've ever slept in!"

  Melanie gave a gleeful hop and clapped her hands. "I knew it!" she exclaimed. She grabbed Julienne's arms and examined them. Small cuts were visible up and down that hadn't been there before. Melanie appeared ecstatic over the discovery as she jumped for joy. She swept Alice into her arms and danced a jig, even though the girl's body was like a rag doll.

  "What's going on here?" Julienne shouted, becoming angry.

  "I'll tell you what!" Melanie said, unhanding Alice so abruptly that she nearly fell. The cadaverous woman reached beneath the bottom mattress only to produce a butcher knife with a grand flourish. Both girls leapt backwards to avoid losing their heads to Melanie's callousness. "Even with aaaaallll those mattresses, you still felt the effects of the knife. You've passed the test! You're the REAL princess!"

  Julienne groaned. "I am not!"

  "Nifty! Oh NIFTY DARLING!" Melanie called, ignoring Julienne's protest.

  The bedroom door banged open once more and a boy looking around the same age as Alice and Julienne strolled in. His entrance took her aback. He might have been good looking with his height, decent build, and shining black hair. Except that the lad seemed strangely childish. He wore old fashioned knickers, starched shirt, and a red bow tie and his hair was slicked to his head, save an awkward cowlick rising from his crown. He moved with a hyper jerkiness. His smile showed rows of beautiful teeth but missed the mark of charming, appearing disturbed instead. And his eyes; those eyes. The twinkle in them seemed decidedly unhinged.

  "Nifty, meet this darling girl," Melanie said, shoving Julienne toward the troublesome creature. Julienne glimpsed a look of deep concern marring Alice's pretty pale face. Her heart began to pound.

  "Good to meet you, Miss," the boy chipperly stated, thrusting his right hand out for a shake. Julienne eyed it suspiciously, highly alarmed by his childish way of speaking. When she did not take his hand, his smiled cracked just slightly and darkness took his eyes. He wagged the hand menacingly.

  "Well then, we'll just leave you two to get acquainted," Melanie said obliviously.

  She snatched Alice's arm and gruffly dragged her toward the exit.

  "No wait!" Julienne yelled, seeing the panic on Alice's face.

  Melanie and Alice made it out. Julienne threw herself into the heavy door, just as the lock was thrown… From the outside.

  ***

  Three hours passed of Melanie keeping Alice carefully supervised. But when her aunt excused herself to the lady's room, Alice hastily slipped away.

  She hurried through corridors and stairways finally making it back to the room where they'd left Julienne. She wasted no time unlocking and throwing the door wide open.

  An impossible amount of blood streaked the walls like some abstract mural. She stopped her in her tracks.

  "No," Alice whispered.

  Melanie rushed in right on Alice's heels. She as well, stopped short.

  "Oh, Nifty," she said mournfully. "Why dear? Why must you always come off with their heads?"

  Part IV

  Beastly

  Chapter 15

  The beastly creature had only one bonus associated with the curse that had been cast upon him. He could make himself invisible to others if he so chose as part of his awful enchantment. In such, his quest was somewhat simplified.

  But, oh, what a dastardly quest it was.

  Once, he'd been regular. He'd had a mother and a father who were respected members of Wondernever society. He'd been a young lad of eight years known as Pierre Damien. They'd shared a fantastical home deep in the Wondernever woods. He'd been just a boy then, a very basic boy.

  And still, he lived in that same home, practically a palace, hidden in the mist and the trees. But outside of his own awful presence, it was devoid of any signs of life. There was not a soul to keep him company, save the devilish bats flapping in the trees outside. For his parents had long since been murdered and the servants all turned into furnishings by the wicked curse.

  Despite the ghastliness of him, thinking of the curse still brought him to tears as though he was still that same child. Gnarled and bent over, he would recall it and weep bitterly.

  One lone road led from his home into town. His parents had always warned him, never go outside alone, and always stick to the path. Never EVER step off the path. They spoke of certain particularly dark Wonderneverians who policed one neck of the woods, poised to apprehend anyone who tried to leave without permission. They were rumored to lurk to the south.

  But, so he was told, there was an even greater a danger. A danger that spanned all the rest of the expansive forest. As his parents explained it to him, that danger was one very angry, very wicked witch.

  As he was taught, so were all Wonderneverians taught; never go into the woods. The wicked witched required human blood. If she caught a Wonderneverian, she'd cast upon him an awful curse that could only be lifted if he acquired her a human sacrifice.

  Which wasn't the easiest of tasks since Wonderneverians rarely trifled with the world beyond the enchanted willow. Wonderneverians were rarely murderous.

  He'd been a particularly curious child, always asking questions that nobody wanted to answer. Additionally, he was fearless and contrary. These qualities made for a bad combination, and eventually he snuck out of the manor and stole away
into the woods.

  He wasn't far into the woods when he discovered he wasn't nearly as brave as he'd originally thought. It was frightfully dark, as the sun never shown in Wondernever, and the mischievous moon wouldn't cast its light in the woods. Every last whoosh and holler gave him a start. So it wasn't long before he aborted his endeavor and spun on his heel to return home. Except for one thing.

  First, she wasn't there. And then, out of nowhere, she was.

  He slammed right into her then jarred backwards, falling flat, the coarse feel of her robe burned into his face. He gaped up at her. She must've been ten feet tall. She wore a hood out of which flowed wiry white hair full of crawling things. A sickening sulfurous smell accompanied her. Where a face should've been was only a black, bottomless hole.

  He peed down his leg as she lifted a bony hand and pointed at him. Then, from the awful witch came a shrieking bellow so loud that the whole forest quaked and thunder smashed inside his head.

  Beneath the wicked witch, he landed on the forest floor. But not yet dead, he could only watch as the nightmare continued. She raised both her arms at her sides and magically as she'd appeared, his parents suddenly materialized, flanking her.

  They each wore terrified expressions. When they spotted their son, a fleeting second of understanding and disappointment crossed their faces.

  And then the witch tore off their heads.

  ***

  For one full year, he lay in that spot, somehow aware he was dead, yet unable to leave, or do anything else. Time passed agonizingly and by the time he finally found himself able to move, he had gone quite insane.

  When he could finally rise off the ground, he looked down and could see his own dead, rotted corpse, still remaining there. He also felt no pain, despite having been immobile for so long. Terrified, he sprinted back to his home.

  He found the place dark, empty, and falling into disrepair. Uneasily, he went inside. It was then he found the transformed servants. A butler's uniform in a pile on the floor next to a clock he did not recognize. A discarded maid's uniform next to a feather duster on the stairs. He wept for the first time as he explored the place, full of dust and broken windows. Nearly taken over by vines and woodland creatures.

  It was when he stepped before a mirror that he accidentally revealed the truth to himself. He was presented with a reflection of a terrifying apparition. One with a large misshapen head, pocked, pealing, translucent ghost flesh, and a wide chasm of a mouth filled with a hundred gnashing, decaying teeth.

  He was a beast.

  ***

  That first horrendous day he'd flown into a violent rage and destroyed every mirror in the house with his bare hands, then eaten the glass. But the last mirror he came upon was one he'd never seen before, and he found it would not break. The reflection he saw in the mirror was not his own. Instead, he saw a silver tree in a clearing. A clearing unlike the eternally dark Wondernever woods. It was washed in a kind of light he'd heard of, but never before seen. Sunlight. He knew he was gazing upon the enchanted willow tree of Enchantica. He found that with his mind, he could make the mirror show him all the people of Enchantica. He could hear them and see the scenes of their lives.

  All his life before the curse of the witch befell him, he'd heard tales of others before him who'd been cursed. He'd even met Wonderneverians who claimed to have survived, and he hadn't believed them. He'd been told that if the cursed brought the witch just one human, then the curse would be lifted and everything lost returned. One just had to demonstrate care with the matter of snatching a human and all wrong could be set right.

  Before, he'd never believed. But gazing into that mirror, he knew what he had to do. He settled down before it and watched.

  ***

  Ten lonely years passed whilst the beastly aspiration secretly watched the lives of Enchanticans. He never ventured into Wondernever afraid of alarming the residents. He received occasional visits from Ansel, a former associate of his father. Ansel pressured him to find a candidate quickly so he could resume his life and bring his parents back. However, he couldn't seem to find just the right person to snatch from his or her life. So his visits with Ansel consisted of quarreling and ended with Pierre sending him away fuming.

  Riddled with guilt at the notion of having to kill anybody so that he could live, he tried to kill himself instead. Numerous times over the years as he aged, he attempted every imaginable method of ending his miserable existence. But, he who is already dead cannot die again. So he waited, and he watched.

  And one day, at long last, he found her.

  Chapter 16

  Gisèle Pettigrew lay on her stomach, sprawled across her bed under a sunny window, reading a book. She'd managed to escape into the pages of a horror novel and completely phase out her busy body sisters.

  Two girls from their high school had disappeared within forty eight hours of each other. The Pettigrew girls were familiar with them both. One was a possible runaway, but suspicious circumstances surrounded the other. Gisèle wasn't close with either of the girls, but she worried about them and dearly hoped for their safe return.

  Because of the mounting alarm, their father, Ernest, was in high gear freak out mode. As a single father of three teenaged girls, Chloé (fifteen), Gisèle (seventeen), and Reginé (eighteen), he was extraordinarily overprotective in the best of circumstance. So, since an actual threat had become apparent, Mr. Pettigrew had the girls on lockdown. Unable to get out socializing with friends, or enjoying the summer sun, Gisèle could see her sisters going stir crazy.

  She wasn't particularly enjoying the imprisonment herself, but she could always survive if there was a bookshelf over flowing nearby. Her sisters, on the other hand, tended to never be satisfied.

  Gisèle had been up early to kiss her dad's cheek before he left for work. He was an artist, and a rather eccentric one at that. She was his only daughter he truly shared a kindred spirit with. He was spending the day at a street fair attempting to sell his wares. Her sisters had slept late into the afternoon but once they rose, the peace turned to chaos.

  Chloé wandered into Gisèle's room. She said nothing but began nosily poking about Gisèle's belongings. Gisèle continued to read hoping her sister would just go away.

  But instead of leaving, she flopped unceremoniously onto the bed near Gisèle with a theatric sigh. After Gisèle's last ditch effort to ignore her, Chloé smacked her book, sending into her face.

  Gisèle gave an irked look. "Ouch," she said sardonically.

  "Gone Girl?" Chloé mocked. "You're reading Gone Girl? You're so weird."

  "Why? Why is that weird?"

  "You've always got your nose buried in some freaky book that's way too old for you. Why don't you act your age?"

  Gisèle smirked. "Oh you mean shiftless and lazy doing nothing but whining and complaining, day in and day out? No thanks."

  Chloé frowned darkly. After a moment of evil pondering, she snatched Gisèle's book and tossed it right out the open window.

  "HEY!" Gisèle roared. Chloé fled the room with a wicked peal of laughter.

  ***

  Gisèle went out to retrieve her book then opted to find a spot outside to read. Her sisters rarely abided the summer heat, or the possibility of encountering bugs and lizards. The outdoors afforded her a better chance of avoiding them.

  She couldn't imagine how she'd ended up with such utterly horrid siblings. All three Pettigrew girls shared similar looks with their shining brown ponytails, rosy cheeked smiles, and wide sparkling brown eyes. But that was where the similarities ended. Gisèle was just like their father; intelligent, artistic, and interested in the world around them. Her sisters were about as deep as a tear drop and possessed mean streaks a mile wide, but they could feign sweetness when their father was present. She had no memory of her mother since the woman had left them when she was small and Mr. Pettigrew never spoke of her. She could only assume Chloé and Reginé inherited their nasty personalities from their absent mother.

&n
bsp; When dinner time approached, Gisèle went inside where she fixed them all something to eat. Laziness was another one of her sisters' many flaws. If she didn't feed them, they'd complain far more than they would surely fuss over whatever she prepared.

  Two hours after dinner passed and her father did not arrive home. It wasn't terribly uncommon for the events Mr. Pettigrew worked to run later than expected. All the same, Gisèle found her eyes drawn back to the clock on the wall of her room again and again.

  When another hour went by, the sound of the clock's ticking seemed to grow louder. It seemed like every other sound on earth diminished and that tick tick tick roared thunderously in her head. How strange for her father not to call. She mentally chided herself for being a worry wart. But she picked up the phone to dial him.

  He did not answer.

  By the time another hour passed, Gisèle was close to tears. Dusk gave way to nightfall and they still hadn't heard from their dad. Between her sisters' incessant wailing, terrible speculations, and repeated calls to him that went to voicemail, Gisèle was on the verge of a breakdown. It was time to call the police.

  A knock soon came at the door just as the last light of sunset bled from the horizon. Some sense of relief calmed her racing heart when she opened the door to Chief Darling.

  Her sisters shoved around her to over enthusiastically welcome inside the Pettigrew home. Amid their shrill fast chatter, he had trouble discerning just what the problem was.

  Gisèle gave a frustrated sigh. "ENOUGH!" she yelled, bring abrupt silence to the room. She gave each of her sisters and evil glare, wondering if they truly cared their father was missing, or if they were secretly enjoying the drama.

  "Chief Darling," she began, giving the kind man an earnest look. "Our dad didn't come home from work. He's not answering my calls."

  Chief Darling frowned. "Oh? And how late is he?"

  "I'm not sure exactly, he was showing art at the festival over in Caperstown. But, I expected him home hours ago."