AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Trees loom high, each of their trunks winding upwards in a different pattern. Some wavy, some zigzag. One loops around and has grown through itself, like a giant knot. The canopy shifts in the slight wind, completely blocking us from the sky. A thud of a hammer draws my attention behind me, to where a soldier begins nailing a tent to one of the overhanging thick branches. Each time she strikes, a teeny voice leaks from the tree’s bark.
Ooh. Eee, ahh, crap balls, ouch.
Once that side is cemented in place, she moves to fix the other to an adjacent branch, and in doing so pitches the tent completely upside down and several feet from the ground. More soldiers begin to pitch their tents in the same way, until an orchestra of pained cries bleed through the forest. Humpty doesn’t seem to notice, too invested in a backpack which has been produced for her.
“Tea?” she asks, pulling out a long flask. Almost two litres in full length, and my heart just about combusts.
“Oh, you smooth-faced angel, yes please,” I nod like a bobble head. Any pretense of being nonchalant vanished when she twisted open the cap. Perfectly sweet, just the right shade of sepia in the fire’s wavering light. Accepting a China cup, little finger poised, I sip slowly and melt down onto the dirt-covered ground. That’s the fucking stuff right there. The things I would and have done for a cup of tea. My own moans fill my ears, drowning out the fleeting screams of the trees.
Ooch, fah, gee, ugh, hoochie mama.
“Can I ask you something?” Humpty Dainty shuffles closer and I shrug.
“You just did.” Lost in a world with my tea, I only notice her stumpy little leg bump against my shoulder because the liquid splashes over the cup.
“Do you know which Tweedle you intend to accompany back to their queen?” she continues anyway. I sip my tea, carefully thinking through where to begin with that. So, the Tweedles have their own separate queens, that I supposedly should be accompanying them back to, and I can only choose one…Interesting, yet I’ve learnt my lesson about asking too many questions. The answers only lead to more trouble.
“I intend,” I begin, noting how all the soldiers halt and twist their helmet-clad heads in my direction, “to find a little patch of Wonderlust for myself and live out my days in peace. A house made of feathers in the eye of a storm perhaps, or I could bundle myself into a time capsule and give the unlucky fucker who uncovers me one hell of a fright. Would need an endless supply of cheeseburgers though. They might start to smell after a while…or mold, and then maybe I’d turn to mold.”
My thoughts carry me on a tangent, adrift in the flames dancing before me. The fire is tainted in a purple hue, silvery tendrils swaying back and forth while I wonder how long it’d take for mold to set into the pores of my skin. Would I become a living fungus? Transform into a mushroom? Then I can feast on myself...
“I could show you the right choice, if you like?” Humpty Dainty nudges me again. Placing the empty teacup down on the woodland floor, I ease myself back up onto the log to peer into her large brown eyes. “The only seers we had were the caterpillars, and the Queen of Hearts has the last one in existence, but I have some psychic powers myself. I can give you a glimpse at your future, and it’ll help to show you which path to take.”
I remain quiet, noting how she trembles slightly on the trunk. Beneath her words and level tone, there’s something in the way Humpty Dainty spears her soldiers with a quick glance that tells me there’s more to her offer than a friend helping a friend on her time capsule journey. Either way, I’ve never had a clue as to where I’m going. It could be fun to find out, and if I don’t like what I see - what to avoid like fucking covid.
“Sure,” I half shrug, holding out my hands. Humpty looks at them curiously, then releases a sharp whistle that cracks the darkness in two. A solider rushes forward, the metal of her armor clinking loudly. Saluting, she stands straight, easily several inches taller than me as a horse also charges forward. The creature stops just short of crashing into her, bowing its head low in submission.
A heavy weight settles over my shoulders, invisible other than the glint of a faint smile that catches my eye. I roll my neck, trying to dislodge it without much luck. The soldier reaches into a sheath on the horse’s flank and pulls out a large instrument. Shiny enough to be a gun, until the rounded end breaks free. It’s a giant fucking teaspoon.
Humpty pulls the blonde wig free of her egg head, the shine to the tip gleaming in the fire’s purple glow. The solider kicks off her clunky boot and plants her foot between us on the log. Raising the spoon high, she slams it down on her ankle, a sickening crack ricocheting around the tree trunks. I gag, trying to turn away but the horse’s head is there to keep me in place. A snarl rumbles from his carrot-loving teeth, the silver of yellow in his gaze telling me I should probably not piss him off.
Another crack sounds, then a third and despite myself, I brave a look. Just have to see what the sweet loving hell is happening before I find a way out of this damn wood. The soldier rights herself with a wobble, leaning down to retrieve her severed foot. There’s a distinct lack of blood but that doesn’t concern me as Humpty Dainty starts to pick at the shell on her temple.
Finding the spot she was looking for, the circumference of her head splinters in a smooth line. The soldier shuffles forward, helping to yank the tip back, revealing the yolk. It bubbles like a pit of lava and fuck me, do I salivate. Lick my lips and lean in. I love a perfectly dippy egg. Until the solider dips her manky foot into the yolk and puts me off eggs for life. Humpty groans, taking me to a whole new level of weird when the heavy weight curled around my neck whispers in my ear.
Run.
Yeah, no shit, but I’m currently cornered by a crazed horse and a vitellus-based orgy. All three pairs of eyes swivel on me, an expectation thickening in the air as the breath locks in my lungs. Well, Malice, you’ve been in some strange situations, but one really takes the biscuit. I don’t know who moves first, but somehow I jerk back into the horse’s face and find the foot shoved into my face.
“Suck the big toe and your future will be revealed,” Humpty Dainty says, her tone natural and soft as ever. I cringe at the jagged toenails, smothered in yellow. The smell of egg and athlete’s foot burns the hairs out of my nose, so I suppose that saved a trip to the salon, but still. I’m not sucking that damn toe.
“You know what, I’ve decided the future is overrated. I’ll just see what comes my way,” The horse’s nose at my back nudges me forward and the tippiest of toe tip grazes my lip. I choke on the vomit that spurts up the inside of my throat. Not even the gormless hulk-wannabe I went down on awaiting my trial was this bad.
“Suck it!” Humpty says again, becoming more angered.
“I could just lickety lick your brain juice directly from the source.” I swallow hard and the foot is jerked towards me once more.
“The visions won’t work that way. You can’t have a dippy egg without soldiers,” she rolls her huge eyes. In my peripheral, I notice the top of her shell head is back in place as she adjusts the wig into place to cover the crack. “Now start sucking.”
I’ve heard that before, multiple times. Yet as I open my mouth with another protest, the girthy toe is shoved into my gob. I jerk back, utterly trapped and as the offensive digit knocks against my tongue, I relent. Fuck it, it’s in there now. Clenching my eyes shut hard enough to blind myself, I suck that big toe like my life depends on it. The yolky lubrication is a blessing as the sounds around me drown out and images appear behind my eyes.
Two women stand on a hill, high above a sea of carnage below. Dismembered beings, human and animals alike. Thick rivets of blood carving a stream back towards the town I fled from. More specifically, right up to the front door of the abandoned hattery.
Movement on the hill draws my attention, a shadow stepping out from either side of the women. I notice their crowns now, tall against the sunset. Regal dresses burst from their tiny waists, dwarfing their similar heights. The shadow’s outlines betray who they are, but not once do their features come into the light. The Queens lean into the side of their designated Tweedle, staking their claim as a voice booms from the sky.
One is your destiny,
the other your demise.
