Spades: The True Wonderland Awaits. (Of Wonderland Chronicles Book 1) (4 page)

She rolled over, murmuring his name in her sleep.
"Seth."

Chapter 6:
The Car and the Letter

The day after the day that I spent with Blayke and Damien, that morning I woke up to find a pair of keys on my redwood dresser sitting in the corner of my room. I sat up in bed abruptly, so fast that my head swam for a few seconds, and blinked. The keys were still there, resting on top of one of my many, many, many drawings of the Dark Prince; I felt as though the character of the Dark Prince was something - rather someone - important to me, but I couldn't remember who it was or why they were important to me. I rubbed my eyes with my fists, but they were still there.

I tossed the covers to the side and climbed out of bed, already dressed as I had gone to bed in my clothing from yesterday; it was late when I got home and I was too tired to change into jammies. I walked over to my dresser and picked up the keys. Carved into the thick key ring was a line of characters in Egyptian that my visions translated into:
"For you, Bryony."
My eyes widened and I gasped.

"H-how?" I stammered, staring at the keys resting in my palm.

Then I noticed beneath the keys where my drawing was, in the corner there was writing.
"Good job, Bryony. You pretty accurately represented him. All you're missing is the face. Well, spoilers I guess. You'll find out soon enough. Hope his phone call didn't disturb you too much,"
it read, and I examined the drawing as my heart leapt into my throat at the mention of the phone call that I had gotten a couple of days ago, during the week; it was Saturday morning now. It was of the Dark Prince, in all of his dark and almost disturbing glory, holding out a black rose to the person viewing the drawing. His face was shadowed and you couldn't see it, only because I couldn't see the prince's face myself. But you could see his lips, and they were curled upwards into a twisted smile, with fangs stained red with blood revealed from under healthy colored lips - if not a bit pale.

I turned to see, written on my wall in silver, curling letters a cryptic message:
"Fall down the rabbit hole and discover what is inside. Inside the world of your delusions, you will find the one who you seek. We are waiting. Hurry and jump into the rabbit hole; that's where it all began, and where it all will end. Good luck. -S"

Suddenly my silver flip phone, which was resting on my dresser beside my pile of drawings of the characters living in my imagination, began to ring, disrupting the eerie silence, that surely terrified me, with the first few bars of "Under" by Godspeed. I turned away from the message in silver glaring at me in the soft glow of the beautiful, rising sun and grabbed my phone, lifting it to my ear. "Hello?"

"Have you seen the car outside your house?"
Amber demanded on the other side of the phone, and I blinked.

"What, no 'good morning' or 'hello'?" I asked, leaning against the window sill.

"Good morning, Bryony,"
Amber said begrudgingly.

"Good morning to you, too, Amber," I said, smiling though she couldn't see it through the phone.

"I wish I could reach through this phone to smack the Hell out of you; I swear to God, you are so annoying,"
Amber grumbled, and I chuckled.

"Good luck on that," I said, smirking.

"Now, have you looked at the car sitting outside your house? It's parked in the driveway. Look out the window. I'm serious,"
Amber demanded, and I peered out the window through a crack in the red blinds.

Outside, sitting in the driveway was the same silver Mercedes Dream that I got a ride in from Blayke and Damien. I knew it was the same because there was the same scrape on the passenger side door that Damien caused when we were driving home by being reckless; he wasn't a very good driver, and when he caused that scrape, it scared me half to death. Needless to say, I whacked him on the shoulder for that one.

Anyway, so I managed to lift my phone to my ear and mumble, "I'll talk to you later" before I dropped my phone, racing out the door. I bounded down the stairs and out to the car, unlocking it with the keys the boys had, no doubt, left on my dresser. I climbed into the driver's seat of the car, running a hand over the red leather of the steering wheel. The more that I examined the car, the more that I found that the car had been changed from its original, simple design to a crazy one - with red and black checkered patterns everywhere - that I myself would have chosen. I smiled; those boys knew me so well, though we had only met once.

I explored the car's interior with my hands, curiously, until I found a sharp edge sticking out from under the wheel. I grabbed at the sharp edge and withdrew whatever it was so that I could see it. I blinked; it was a letter, addressed to me. I slid my finger under the cover of the envelope and gently tore it open. The paper within the simple and plain white envelope was red, a dark scarlet with scribbled letters in dark ink printed on to the paper so hard that you could feel it on the other side of the paper.

I lifted the red paper free of the envelope and leaned back against the padded seat that was now dyed red. A metal key fell into my lap, but I ignored it for the moment. I then began to read what was printed on to the paper.

"Dear lovely Bryony, I know that when you receive this letter that it will be on the Eve of the Day. I always have trusted those two idiots, Damien and Blayke, to do exactly I instructed. While they are stupid, they are extremely useful and have too much respect for me to let me down. I will give you an address and you must go there, understand? This is imperative. We will all die if you don't go to the address 7666 Baneful Lane. We need you, darling Bryony. Look in the backyard, find the rabbit hole. Come down; I am inside the rabbit hole. We need you, Bryony. Come. Oh, and I apologize for the scare I must have given you with that phone call. -S"

My eyes widened and I inserted the key into the ignition. I turned the key and the car's engine started with a soft purr. I pulled out of the driveway and drove down the street at the highest speed I could go without getting a ticket from the police who never visited our street in Jackson, Wyoming.

Chapter 7:
Down the Rabbit Hole

I examined the key that had been in the envelope, twisting it to see every angle. It was a Victorian era kind of key, made of copper mixed with small flowers made of gold on the ends, with a complicated design above the metal bar that had the teeth of the key on the end. The design twisted on itself in the design of ivy wrapping around a cold metal heart. The center of the heart was hollowed out and there was a thin, silver chain going through the hole. I fastened the chain around my neck, and the key fell against my bare collarbone, cold and hard, a reminder of what I was about to do.

I looked at the house. It was Victorian era, with a low-hanging porch and lots of balconies. The trimming was gold while the rest of the house was painted a light pink; somehow the colors merged together to create an image of royalty and honor. The balconies were lined with gold railing, and ivy was draped over the railing, woven in between the bars of the railing with the grace and beauty that only ivy can accomplish. Ivy, blooming with pink flowers, crept up the sides of the house, looping around so that it barely touched the front of the house. There was a tower with a cross on top of it, and next to that were two chimneys. The door, in the shade of the rest of the house, was made of weathered oak that somehow was still standing. The steps leading up to the door looked as though they were rotting, but I trusted my mysterious guide; he would not let me fall, for then I wouldn't come to his 'Wonderland'.

I walked up the steps, thankful for the cool shade that was such a contrast to the hot sun overhead. I walked up to the door and tried the knob, but it wouldn't open; it was as though it was stuck. Part of me wanted to abandon the quest, giving up, throwing my arms up into the air, and saying I had tried. But I couldn't do that; something pushed me to go on, to ram the side of my body into the door. I did this several times until there was a loud cracking noise. I jumped back and watched with surprise as the door collapsed inwards, shattering upon contact with the floor inside in a poof of dust and wood shavings.

I stepped inside the house, looking around. Every surface was layered with dust so thick I was shocked I wasn't sneezing. The colors of the furniture inside were dulled with age and diluted by the amount of dust covering it. I didn't pay attention to my surroundings, too enraptured by the message written in the dust high above what any normal human would be able to reach:
"You've reached this far, Bryony, so why not go a little farther? Follow the footprints, and they will lead you to the rabbit hole. Do not be afraid; you will be home soon enough. -S"

I wondered, for what felt like the millionth time, who this "S" character was, and what he wanted with me. Why did I have to fall down the rabbit hole? Why not someone else. But I did as I was told, for a strange yearning pulled at my heart, demanding that I be by the side of that "S" character once more. So I walked forward, guided by the quiet voices that I had always heard and the footsteps imprinted into the dust covering the floor.

I pushed through a curtain of silver and white cobwebs that covered the back of the house in a mystical illusion that made the sun shimmer as it shone through the cracked, dusty windows, shaking myself free of the sticky and dry webs, and I pushed on the door that led to the backyard. Surprisingly, unlike the front door, this door opened easily, and I stepped outside. I gaped at my surroundings, so beautiful and mystical.

It was as if I had stepped through a portal taking me back in time - in months as well as years, since it was the middle of winter last time I checked. The colors around me were so rich and colorful, and the garden in the backyard was in the same shape that it would be if someone were taking care of it. The grass - so vividly green - was trimmed and grew well all across the yard. Flowers in every color of the rainbow seemed to be everywhere I looked, and I saw one that was a dark purple and shimmered like a jewel. I blinked, but that was not the strangest thing there.

Beneath a gnarled, old oak tree, in between the twisting roots, was a hole. It was about the right size for a person to fall down, and no grass grew near it. It was as if the grass had simply . . . been prevented from growing around the hole. The hole looked as though it would belong to a rabbit, though it was far too big to be a rabbit hole. If I weren't careful, I could fall down the hole and . . .

My eyes widened as realization dawned on me. This was the hole they had wanted me to fall down; this was the hole they kept talking about. I took a step forward and looked back. Behind me, there was the house, and the door revealed the dusty inside. I almost wanted to run back inside, back to my new car; I almost wanted to go home where things made sense and weren't always mysteries, but I knew that I couldn't. I had already come so far, fallen into the depths of my hidden madness so deep, I couldn't go back now. I had to see this to the end. Maybe then I would be able to discover why madness had run in the family since my great-great-great-great-great-grandmother Alice.

Yes, I was related to Alice Liddell, the girl who had inspired Lewis Carroll's book, Alice's Adventures in Wonderland. After Alice returned from Wonderland, she became mad, absolutely bonkers. She wouldn't consume anything if it wasn't on a tea tray if it was food or in a tea cup if it was something that could be drunk. She was strange, and the doctors couldn't figure out what was going on inside her head. So they stuck her in an asylum and gave her electric shocks to tray and help her regain her senses. But it didn't work, and it killed her; the shock treatments meant to help killed her.

I would not have been born if it weren't for the fact that this madness occurred once she was an old woman and had kids and grandkids. It was as if she suddenly was affected by Wonderland and hadn't been in the human realm at all. Whatever it was, it baffled the doctors to no end. My family didn't speak of Alice, too afraid that all of the females in the family would go mad at the mention of her name. My grandmother, Alys, was just another in a long line of women in the family to go mad and start raving about rabbits in waistcoats and men who could transform into butterflies. Well, one man with dark blue eyes that she said she had fallen in love with, but the man didn't feel the same about her; he was already in love with someone.

I reached into the bag I had carried with me since it had been inside the car that Blayke and Damien had left for me. It was a messenger bag that was red with a zebra-print inside. My fingers found something that was hard yet gave way when I pushed at it, and I grasped it, withdrawing it from the bag. I was surprised to find, within my hand, was a copy of "Alice's Adventures in Wonderland". I flipped the copy open and was surprised to find that it appeared to be the first copy of "Alice's Adventures in Wonderland" there ever was, the one that Lewis Carroll gave to Alice Liddell when she was young. There were phrases written in the margins, phrases like "Not really" and "Really, Carroll?" I blinked and began to flip through the pages. There were sections underlined of the book, like the section with the bottle and the cake and the section with the ocean of tears. I closed the book and slipped it back into the bag.

I walked over to the hole and crouched down at its lip, not caring if my favorite jeans were stained by the dirt. The hole was dark, and there was no end in sight. But I trusted in the voice inside of me that had guided me so far.
"Fall down the rabbit hole and discover what is inside,"
is what the writing on my wall had said. I knew that I had no choice if I wanted to end this. I sighed deeply, taking a leap of faith, and I jumped.