Malice in Wonderland #1: Alice the Assassin
Malice in Wonderland #1: Alice the Assassin
Lotus Rose
Copyright © 2012 by Lotus Rose
Cover art copyright © Annnmei/Dreamstime.com
Discover other titles by Lotus Rose at loteyrose.com
Books by Lotus Rose~
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The Doll Queen
The Poniworld Chronicles
MachoPoni: A Prance with Death
Mein Poni-Kampf: A Biography of the Leader of the Nazi Ponies
My Brootal Poni: A Very Butch Poni Tale
Dust in Your Eyes: An Erotic Poni Tale
CHAPTER ONE
The Thirteen of Hearts
Alice peers woefully out the window into the black-and-white squares of Wonderland. When she first arrived here, Wonderland followed the rules of chess, but things changed over the years to a confusing mish mash of broken rules with nonsensical rules piled on top.
It’s one of the quiet parts of her days, when the guard card leaves her chained to her writing desk in her hut.
She turns over a card, sets it down onto one of the other cards.
Mumbling to herself, “I will lose again. Like always.” Solitaire is a game one rarely wins, she thinks, just like life.
From the edge of her vision, she sees something in the window, causing her to raise her head. One of the male playing cards waves at her next to a scraggly tree in the distance. There are two kinds of cards in Wonderland—the small kind she plays games with and the person-sized ones with arms and legs and mouths. At first she assumes the card is the Queen of Heart’s guard coming to unchain her before her unhappy unbirthday party, but no, it’s a different card, one that seems to have holes in it. “Curious,” she mumbles to herself, that being one of her favorite one word sentences.
Alice waves back from her desk while smiling huge, though she doesn’t recognize the card. He seems to have two vertical lines of holes where symbols should be. She’s never before seen a holey card. ( “Holey” as in “with holes” not as in “holy cow”.)
Though she doesn’t recognize him, she assumes it’s best to pretend, because she doesn’t want to risk offending him, because the citizens of Wonderland can get very cruel when offended.
Alice sighs and returns to her game as the strange card approaches. She hopes he’s nice, or at least the amusements he seeks are not too vicious.
Soon, there is a knock at the door.
She shouts, “Come in! I’m a bit chained to my desk at the moment!”
The door opens, and there stands the large card, ogling her from the doorway.
She ogles back, for he is a most curious card, unlike any she’s ever seen before. Because the light behind him shoots beams of light through the heart-shaped holes in his body that are lined up in two columns like an ordinary playing card. But there, centered above the columns is another cut-out heart, which is quite abnormal.
Quickly she counts the cut-out hearts. Six on the left, six on the right, plus the one on top…
The answer comes as a shout from the card, as if it’s a playful race. “Thirteen!” he proclaims, raising his short arms up in the air and flourishing with a little hop. “I am the Thirteen of Hearts. Or, the twelvety-one of them, if you prefer.”
Alice makes a wrinkly face. “How can you fit so many wrong things in such a short utterance?”
“Is that a riddle?” He clasps his hands together in front of him in a mocking sort of delight. “Here’s one!” His eyes ping to the wooden seat she’s chained to. “Why is a raven like a writing desk?”
She rolls her eyes, despite the fact she doesn’t yet know how easily offended, and just how cruel he can be. Note, she doesn’t wonder if he is cruel, but how much of that quality he possesses, for it has been her experience that most of the creatures of Wonderland are cruel now. They started out as pleasant or tolerable, but they’ve grown downright malicious over the past six years. They’ve quite forgotten the rules of civility, and even the rules of Wonderland, what little there were to begin with, it seems to her. One of the few exceptions iss the Jabberwock, who seems nice, but shy.
After she rolls her eyes, she says, “Yes I’ve heard that riddle before so many times, and I have so many answers, depending on the situation, because I’ve had so much time to think on it, chained here, you see. But let’s not go to that right now. Let’s go back to what you said. So many things are wrong with it, it makes me quite see red.” She looks at him hopefully, hoping he will appreciate her flight of poetry. She’s acquired a habit of rhyming whenever she can, being after all a (unwilling) citizen of Wonderland.
The card takes two steps into the hut, with its bed, and books laid page down on the ground, its stove in the far corner, its small dining table where they set her cakes during her unhappy unbirthday parties, its painting on the wall of Alice’s parents.
The card takes two more steps, looks around, now at her, and says, “What’s the second thing you dislike about what I said?”
Alice doesn’t even bother to groan out loud and huff. All the creatures of Wonderland are just like this—so clever, whimsical, full of mischief. “The second thing,” she says, “is that there is no such number as ‘twelvety-one’. But the first thing is that you are quite lacking in hearts, so it is wrong to say you’re the Thirteen of Hearts, because you have holes where hearts would be. You’re actually heartless.”
He says, “And who do you say you are?”
“I’m Alice. I don’t believe we have met.” She holds out her unchained hand—her left one. She happens to be left-handed.
The card shakes hands, then bows. “Nice to meet you. Yes, this is my first day of existence. I’m an entirely new card. Depending on which card game you’re playing, if you were to draw me, why, I’d completely change the game! I am a surprise card you see. A wild card! More wild than the joker! I see that you are playing solitaire. Why, if you were to draw me, do you know what the rule would be?”
“Why no. As you say, you’re new. I’ve never encountered a card such as you in a deck.”
The card stands up straight and regally, and proclaims,
“If solitaire’s the game that you draw me in,
Up into the air, toss five darts!
If one of them sticks in the ceiling, you win!
For I am the Thirteen of Hearts!”
In annoyance, she shouts, “Less!”
The card, looking somewhat deflated at Alice’s lack of being impressed, says, “No, I assure you, I’m thirteen exactly. No more. No less.”
“Well I’m thirteen too, more or less.”
Now he peers at her body, as if she is the curious creature!
Alice, ignoring his rude eyes, says, “What I meant is you’re not the Thirteen of Hearts, for you only have empty spaces where hearts would go! So as I said before, it’s more accurate to say you’re heartless!”
“Yes!” he shouts, with a big grin. Now another bow, this time with a twirly whirl of his arm as he bends downward.
“If me you are dealt when poker’s the game,
Your opponents must fold then confess,
The one thing they feel is their own greatest shame,
Because I’m the Thirteen of Hearts…LESS!”
He twirls in a little circle, coming back around to face her.
A
lice says, “No. No. Heartless. That’s the proper way of pronouncing it.”
The card rolls his eyes, crosses his arms. “That’s not how you said it before. And why are you such an expert anyway? What exactly are you the thirteen of?” He leans forward slightly, staring at her body and black dress. “I see no marks on you. No spades, no diamonds, clubs…or hearts! No heartlesses either, I might add.”
“Well,” says Alice, “I’m not a card, I’m a girl, twelve years old you see, almost thirteen.”
The card says, “Today’s your birthday.”
Alice gasps. “Why so it is! I had totally forgotten. Imagine that! How did you know it was my birthday?”
“Well, I was at the party. Weren’t you invited?”
Alice pouts. “No, I wasn’t. Who hosted it?”
“Why the Queen of Hearts, of course. She’s the one who took all my hearts!”
“Ah, I see. I’m so sorry.”
The card frowns. “Me too. Did she take your hearts too? I see none on you.”
“Well, I don’t have one on me.”
“So you’re a one of heartlesses?”
“No, I have a heart, but it’s inside, so you can’t see it right now. And I’m not sure your saying ‘heartlesses’ is correct, for heartlessness is not a thing but an absence of a thing, so I can’t see how it can be plural.”
The card makes big eyes and points to himself while waving his arm up and down. “You’re obviously wrong, for look, I have thirteen heartlesses.”
Alice rubs her chin. “Why, I see you do. Perhaps I’m incorrect. I wonder, if I got rid of my own heart, which has caused me so much pain, would I be a ‘one of heartless’?”
“Heartless!” the card proclaims. “Why…”
Now he starts to dance a little, bending up and down, pumping an imaginary bicycle pump with his arms.
“Let’s say you’re dealt me, when it’s blackjack you play,
And your age is before drinking starts, yes?
Well, you’ll be 21 for exactly one day.
The power of Thirteen of Heartless!”
Alice scowls. “But what’s that got to do with the game? Would I win or lose?”
“Why, what does it matter? You wouldn’t care either way if it was the first time you imbibed. Have you ever gotten drunk?”
Alice narrows her eyes disapprovingly. She does her best to cross her arms, though they don’t quite cross all the way due to her right arm still being chained to her desk. “I’m thirteen.” She rolls her eyes.
The card mimics her posture, right down to the awkwardly angled right arm. “Of?…”
She sighs in frustration. “Nothing! I’m just a girl. I’m not a card like you.”
He lowers his arms, looking genuinely perplexed. “But I recall you saying you were a one of hearts. Red or black?”
She thinks for a moment of correcting him once again, but instead ponders a bit, says woefully, “Black. I have a black heart. From living in this horrible place, all these years.”
Now the card, taking his cue from her, seems woeful as well. “I’m sorry. But I doubt you have a black heart. You seem too nice. It must be terrible to be the ‘one’ of anything. I didn’t even know the numbers went so low.”
She lowers her arms. “Well, it is the average number of hearts to have for my sort, which is human girls. But let me tell you, this one heart of mine has been the source of such great misery, for it forces me to feel all that happens to me, and provides me only yearning and loneliness and sadness.”
“Those are three things.”
“Pardon?”
“You said ‘only’ then you listed three things.”
Alice sighs. “You wouldn’t understand. You’re only a card. I say ‘only’ because they are empty things, you see. Oh, I wish I could be heartless like you.”
The card hops, then twirls in midair. “Well, why don’t you be? How hard can it be to get rid of your heart?” He does a little dance. “Why, you only have one, after all!”
Alice pouts. “But us girls need our hearts! We couldn’t live without them.”
“Ah, but this is Wonderland! Why, look at me! I am the Thirteen of Heartless! You should be like me! I break all the rules. I’m a renegade. I was created to make Wonderland more interesting, to shake things up, for I’m a wild card! Why, I can even show up anywhere in the deck I want to!”
“Isn’t that cheating?”
“Absolutely!”
Alice bites her lip in frustration. She’s heard of players of cards cheating, but not the actual cards themselves. “So who created you?”
“Why no one did! I’m your birthday present! I popped out of a big cake at your birthday party!”
“But that makes no sense. Who put you in the cake?”
“Why, no one did!”
“But you can’t pop out of a cake unless you first go in!”
“Well that sounds like a rule, and I don’t follow rules!”
Alice sighs. “Did the Queen have fun at my party?” Usually whenever anyone says, “the Queen”, they are referring to the Queen of Hearts, because the Red Queen doesn’t get mentioned as much, due to the fact that she’s currently locked up in the Queen of Heart’s dungeon.
The card says, “Yes, unfortunately. I’d just like to say it was rather rude for you not to show up for your own birthday party. Oh, but Queen had fun beheading people and creatures. ‘Off with their heads!’ she kept saying.” He’s scowling now.
Alice hates the Queen of Hearts, because she’s responsible for so much of the misery in Alice’s life. It is the Queen’s guard who keeps Alice chained up, who forces her to go on her daily rounds—rounds in which the Tweedle twins like to make her cry so they can lick her tears, the Caterpillar makes her smoke from his hookah, and the Queen herself uses Alice’s tears to make herself more beautiful. Alice says, “And what happened to your hearts?”
“I had to give them to the Queen, because she collects them. She’s a thief who stole my hearts! I wish I could get back at her. But I must admit, it’s so much more fun being heartless. Why, I can be ruthless and vicious, a cad, a renegade! And not care a whit, for I have not even one heart!”
“I envy you. My only one heart is quite a burden. I would like to try being heartless, but just for a little while. Can you help me?”
“Why certainly my dear! I’d love to make another heartless being like me, to help me get revenge on the Queen! And I think you may grow to like it, though you say only ‘a little while’.” He winks. “I shall simply make a rule!”
“But I thought you liked to break rules!”
He waves his hand dismissively. “Pish posh. Why my dear, whenever I make a new rule, I break the old rules. It’s all the same.”
Alice thinks about this. “Yes, I suppose that’s true.”
“So I shall simply make a rule that lets you take out your heart, and put it back in if you want!” He beams as if supremely proud of himself.
“You can simply make up rules? Pull them out of thin air?”
“Yes, like pulling a rabbit from a hat! Magic!” He makes razzle dazzle jazz hands.
The joy at possibly achieving her goal causes Alice to beam, herself. “So what’s the rule?”
Now the card is waggling a finger. “Oh, no. There can be no rule unless the game is known. What card game do you propose?”
“Solitaire.”
“There’s already a rule for that, silly. I just recited it to you a few moments ago.”
“Can’t there be another one?”
“No! Only one rule per game. I thought that was obvious.”
“Well it wasn’t obvious to me, so no it wasn’t. But how about Old Maid?”
“Already a rule. Would you like to hear it?”
“No thank you. How about Go Fish? Hearts? Um…”
“No there are already rules for those. I’ve been thinking of rules all day, and none of them have to do with you getting rid of
your heart.”
Alice is annoyed. “So why don’t you tell me a game you don’t have a rule for yet.”
“Well, that would be difficult, for you see, I’ve made a rule for every card game I can think of, so in order to suggest one, I’d have to think of one I can’t think of, which would be most difficult.”
Alice thinks the creatures of Wonderland can be so very irritating, but she rarely does anything, because she is so nice. And she would definitely never do anything to hurt them, though she’s often felt that if she could bring herself to harm some of her tormentors she might make a better life for herself, but then again, they might strike back, making things worse than before, so maybe not. Even so, she wants to try being heartless just a little while, but this card is not making things easy. Frustrated, she says, “Well, I say, this hat that you’ve been pulling rules out of seems to be quite empty!”
Now what she just said stirs something in her mind. She says, “What about the game of ‘Tossing Cards in a Hat’?” She doesn’t know if it counts as a card game, since it is more of a throwing game, and also, she doesn’t have a hat, but even so, it would be a minor victory to think of something that the Thirteen of Heartless had not.
“Aha!” he says, lifting a finger in the air. “I had not thought of that.”
“So there’s no rule?”
“Of course not! But come now I shall make one.
“If you play someone who also may win,
And you toss me in a hat far away,
You can take out your heart, or put it back in.
For I’m the Thirteen of Heartless, I say!”
Alice is excited, tries to clap, but she is still chained. So now she kind of taps her right hand with her left. Now she remembers though—“But I haven’t got a hat!”
“Well you need one to play.”
“How about a different card game? One I can play now?”
“Oh, no, I won’t waste all those rules just for you. You’ll just have to find a hat.”
And now they hear, coming through the walls on the right side of Alice, a bunch of yowling and hooting. They are coming, as they do every day at noon. They must have forgotten it’s her birthday too. To the card she explains, “It’s my surprise unhappy unbirthday party.”
“You don’t look very surprised.”
“Well the surprise part comes in the various ways they torment me during each party. They try something new every day.”
“Well why do you let them do that? Why, if it were me, I’d show them a thing or two.”
“Because I’m not really a mean person. They say I wouldn’t hurt a fly. They said that a month ago, when to prove it, they taped my wrists, covered me in glue and put a piece of raw meat on top of my head. You can imagine the result.” She shudders.
The card laughs. “Yes, very funny! So shall we play toss me in a hat?”
“No, I haven’t got a hat…but the Mad Hatter does. He’ll be one of my guests. But I must say, you’re a bit big for me to toss anyhow. You wouldn’t fit in his hat.”
“So I’ll shrink!”
And with that, the card leaps and shrinks in midair to the size of one of Alice’s hand-sized playing cards. It balances precariously on the edge of the desk for a second before she grabs it, gathers all the cards together, then slips the deck into a pocket of her black dress. Many dresses don’t have pockets, but hers does, and the pockets have the amazing ability to hold huge amounts without causing a bulge.
She slips the deck in as her first guest appears in her doorway, without having to open it, for the door has remained open this whole time.