Heart Land
Chapter One
In Which The Dungeon Door Dares and The Window Wishes
The winding staircase was made of dusty thickset stones and air, and it hugged the matching grey and moss stone of the Dungeons tower wall. One had to hop from one foot to the other or risk falling to ones peril, because every so often one of the steps decided to step out at the very moment a foot touched its cold surface. Hopping was, of course, the only respectable way to reach the Dungeons Door.
Only one thing was certain to the Red Queen of Hearts; she would surely die when this particular day had fallen, and the darkest dark of night had spread its wings. Off with her head. The irony felt like the weight of a world on her petite, pearlescent shoulders, bared boldly in a Ruby Red Gown of The most becoming fit and style. You would think, then, as sensible human beings oft do, that the only thing on the Red Queens mind would be what held it in place; her head. Alas, that was not the case, for the Red Queen was a most peculiar human being, and in a just Land, guilty of her punishment, to say the least. And to say the most, why, she was nasty to the point of being evil, power hungry and narcissistic, contemptuous, selfish, greedy, fearfully afraid of her own heart, paranoid past the point of sanity, highly sensitive, especially to the colour white, emotionally distant, a right trickster, and a fabulous cook to boot; strawberry jam tarts being her specialty. So naturally the most prominent concern knocking in her head would be the heart-awful truth that all this hopping was to ruin her dresses magnificent colour and grandeur, and she then would have to die… looking like something other than what she was; A Queen!
By the time the Red Queen of Hearts had almost reached the top of the Tower, where a smooth floor was illuminated with fire lit torches, casting red shadows on the Large Dungeon Door, knotted Ravens Wood and proud in height and stature, she had countless grazes. Poor soul, her beautiful ruby red gown had been spoilt and she had to hobble the last leg of the way. Her guard, an Ace of Spades, as sharp as a whip in his Suit and as black as night, with a heart to match she thought, cared not whether she made it there in one piece or three, as long as she made it there at all. He was proud he’d been the one chosen to do the honour, of escorting the Queen to her very own Dungeon of Doom. A place she had believed into existence, so as to capture the innocent and make them pay. The Ace of Spades stood with a smirk on his ash black face, And she called us a pack of cards. As thick as she cut us, she’s say. He remembered… With a wicked laugh, she had tormented her guards and all close to her with both tongue and blade and then she had gone one to sew her chaos in her subjects and into Wonder Land itself, and it grew… War raged thick smoke and screams. Oh yes, terrible times ensued, for as she possessed heart after heart and head after head, it was never enough and her thirst for power grew, her need for control suffocated all. But they had stood by her, her loyal pack of guards, blinded by her beauty, and knowing her secret pain, for they remembered all, and they had existed long before the Red Queen made her way to wonderland. And so, they .protected her from the blight of brave and good souls, such as Alice, who wanted only to bring peace and wonder back to live in wonderland. Alice had helped them in times of great need. When their heads were on the line, Alice had stuck out her scrawny neck. And in doing so brought about a true truth, and the spell was broken; the red queen was an evil queen and the only one who needed her head cut off! Off with her head and Wonder Land would finally return to its nonsensical-innocent ways. All would soon be well… for Wonderland.
The air was thick with death; she missed the last step and went flying into the Dungeon Door with a barely audible yell. The red queen of hearts was now terrified at what was to become of her, and wholly exhausted. She could no longer keep herself contained, as a queen always should. The reality of the situation hit her harder than the Dungeon Door had hit her side; she was about to die, she had done horrifying things, and now, her own pack of guards wanted her dead, as it were. What would be the point in pretending this wasn’t an awful and unexpected way to meet her end? How ghastly and almost deliriously hilarious it was, to be sentenced to death by her own creation. She had used one of her precious three wishes for this? Why, I specifically wished to be protected always from, well, death! But here she was, in her very own Tower of Torture and treachery, with her very own pack of cards rooting for her demise, say, they may even use my severed head for a good game of croquet. A bitter sweet punishment, if the true truth be told, for even in death, the queen loved a good game of croquet, and with my head, they’ll be sure to win for once, poor dears she comforted herself with this odd little musing as the ace of spades stepped over her sprawled figure and swiftly unlocked the door.
Fiction This 