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Rated: 13+ · Short Story · Fanfiction · #1948241
Aryse has finally killed the Red Queen. But at what cost?
         The girl stared at the ground. There was a profound sense of wonder and fear and pride coursing through her. She slowly lifted her head, glaring at the creature in front of her. It was similar to a picture of a dragon like creature she had drawn earlier in the year. Only, it wasn't her creature. She knew now what it was. Why she drew it. It was a memory of a time that had never existed in this world. In her own world, her dream world it was a monster. Jabberwocky. The name had haunted her, much like the names of the other creatures and people she had met in her journey. A woman, the Red Queen, stood behind the creature, and triumphant smile on her face. A huge bird, the Jubjub bird, flew overhead, shrieking it's death cry. A low growl from a furred monstrosity, the Bandersnatch, behind the girl shook her to the bone. She lifted her chin, clamping down on her fear, showing her pride and confidence. She would not allow this woman, or these three creatures, tear her apart. She smiled, a twisted contortion on a face that rarely smiled.

         “And now what?” she asked. The Queen's face turned red with anger.

         “What do you mean, Aryse? You're about to die.” The girl's eyes flicked to the side, recognizing the half-crazed man, wielding a sword, cut down the Knave of Hearts. The Hatter turned, his eyes dark with fury as he glowered at the Queen, and her three monsters.

         “Oh, I think not.” The smile on the girl's face grew, almost grotesque on her darkened features. The Queen's eyes darkened. “Your Knave is dead. These creatures, your monster's, they will not long survive as your pets.”

         “What are you blabbering about, girl?”

         “The Bandersnatch has helped me before. The Jubjub bird's head will be crushed. As for your beloved Jabberwocky, it will not take much for me to turn it to me. Unlike you, however, I will not use it to control the populace of Ünderland. It will remain asleep, except for in war, which I don't see happening very often.”

         “Stupid girl,” the Queen snarled. “Jabberwocky! Kill her!”

         “Hatter! The sword!” Aryse screamed. The madman threw the sword towards the girl and the Queen. It's long shimmering length hurled through the air, aimed straight at the Queen. A vapour, then a grinning cat like man appeared, locking the Queen in place. The horrid smile vanished from her face. “Chester!” she cried out.

         “My Lady,” the man said, his huge green eyes flashing in amusement. “No worries about me.” The blade sliced through the Jabberwocky's neck as it moved to defend the Queen, then lodged itself in the Queen's chest, going right through her heart. The man winced slightly as the blade slid right through the Queen, piercing his abdomen.

         “Chester!” Aryse screamed, running towards him. The Mad Hatter grabbed her, holding her back.

         “No! There's nothing you can do, my Lady!” the Hatter yelled, not letting her go. She struggled.

         “Let go of me, you blasted Hatter!” Aryse cried out, ducking out of his grip, not an easy feat for anyone. She ran to Chester, as he collapsed, still holding onto the now very dead Queen of Hearts. “Chess...” she murmured, her face tight, worry. “Let me get her off of you, and get that thing out of you.” She gripped the hilt of the sword, ignoring the burning sensation the blade gave her.

         “I'm already dead, my Lady,” Chester murmured.

         “No... No, you're not. And you're not dying any time soon.” Aryse pulled the blade free of the dead Queen and Chester. The cat-like man yelled. Aryse shoved the Queen to the side unceremoniously. “Chess. Look at me. I won't let you die... you can't die.”

         “You're just a girl, Lady Aryse. Still a child. You need to learn that we all die eventually.”

         “Not you. Never you. I still need you here, Chess.”

         The man coughed, blood trickling from his lips. “You're a sweet girl, Lady. But, what will be will be. No form of witchcraft can save me now.”

         “You're wrong.” She closed her eyes, summoning an image. The creature that Chester had always reminded her of. A large tabby cat padded towards her, seemingly from no where. Chester and the Hatter stared at the cat.

         “Do you mean to put me into a cat, Lady?” Chester asked, coughing up more blood.

         “Yes. Now stop talking.” Aryse set her hand on his chest, closing her eyes.

         “It won't work, Aryse,” the Hatter said, setting a hand on her shoulder.

         “If you believe something impossible is possible, then it will work. Chess, I need you to trust me, and trust that this will work.” The man nodded faintly. “Come here, Cat.” The tabby approached her and laid down next to her, his head in her lap. She pet it, a calmness spreading over her features. She imagined the essence of Chester Cheshire as a ball centring in his chest, and imagining the spirit of the cat in a ball in the forehead of the cat she pulled them out with her hands, holding them carefully, still not opening her eyes. She pushed the essence of Chester into the cat, then pushed the spirit of the cat into the now dead body of Chester. A few tears escaped her eyes. Killing the cat was difficult, but more tolerable to Aryse than losing Chester. She took a deep breath and looked down at the cat, who had moved a few steps away. The impossibly green eyes of Chester Cheshire remained lifeless. “Hatter...”

         “Yes, Aryse?”

         “It didn't work?”

         “On the contrary, Lady,” the cat said, the deep voice of Chester Cheshire. “I'm quite well, but I feel that I will have a difficult time getting used to being a rather large tabby cat.”

         “Chess... It worked?”

         “Of course it did, Lady Aryse. You, unlike some, don't destroy everything you touch.”

         “No, only the lives of millions that I have never met, and now never will.”

         “You saved me, Lady. You've given Terrance Hightop a reason to live. The Tweedle boys are alive because of you. The White Rabbit, the Doormouse, the Hound. All alive because of you. Those millions that are dead, are not dead because of you. They loved you, and chose to fight for you, it was the Red Queen that killed them, and the Hatter has exacted a revenge upon her. You just needed to survive. And you have three new pets to look after.”

         “Three?”

         “Aye, Lady,” the Hatter said, grinning, the space between his teeth catching her attention as usual. “The Bandersnatch, the Jubjub Bird, and the Cheshire Cat.”

         “The Cheshire Cat?”

         “Chester Cheshire is a cat now, after all. A disappearing cat.” Aryse turned to the Cat.

         “The Cheshire Cat... What a nickname, Chess.”

         “Something to live up to, and one more thing to live for,” the Cat said.

         “As long as you are alive.”

         “Careful, Lady. You could be accused of favouritism.”

         “Favouritism? Me? Never.”

         “Any more than you would accept a dance from a man slighted by other women?” the Hatter asked, smiling mischievously at the girl

         “There's a reason he is slighted, Hatter.”

         “As usual. Have you any idea why a raven is like a writing desk?”

         “There is a b in both and an n in neither.”
© Copyright 2013 J. Lynne Poisson (devyus at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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