Alice of Human Sacrifice

“Subjects,” a single voice rang out above the crowd, causing the world to become dead silent. She liked to have this control over the people. It made her feel needed, and so she was. The castle and the land were now hers. She ruled the Kingdom of Hearts, and there was nothing that could be done about it. Not that anyone wanted to do anything about it. They all loved and treasured her deeply.

After all, they had nothing left after the tragic—how very tragic, it was—demise of the past king and queen. It didn't matter that she had deceived her way to the top. What mattered was that she had gotten there without a scratch on her flawless skin.

“Tomorrow night, we shall celebrate the rising of your new queen!”

The crowd cheered delightfully, the screams reaching her eyes with such ecstasy she could have never imagined.

Maybe Wonderland isn't such a horrible and brutish place as I had once thought, she pondered thoughtfully, looking over all the strange creatures that inhabited the land. A girl with whiskers and tail popping out of her lower back cheered with mewls of happiness, and a man, no older than twenty-one, had long silky white rabbit ears protruding from his head of shaggy blonde hair.

She made a decision, a random one at that. I will not marry. There will be no king to overpower me, and I shall rule alone. This kingdom is mine, and mine alone.

Forcing a grin onto her face, she turned and retreated to her chambers. She had achieved something that she could never do in her world. She had become the ruler of the land—who could ask for more?

Oh, but she could. She wanted—no, needed this kingdom. She knew she was being consumed by the fact that she had a whole kingdom in the palm of her hand, but that was how things rule.

After she had changed from her day attire and into silk pajamas, she stood in her large bathroom and stared at herself in the golden trimmed mirror. She pulled at her flawless skin, searching for signs of aging or any upcoming acne. She had been born beautiful and was planning to stay that way.

It occurred to her then, and only then, that she would not live forever. She could not lose her kingdom to a cause as feeble as death. She needed to rule her kingdom forever.

Images of her demise washed over her, encasing her in an utterly cold blanket. She imagined her lifeless, ice-cold body wrapped in wood and placed underground, left there for people to march over her grave and laugh at her. Why? She did not know. They would laugh at the fact that such a noble queen was now underground where people could step on and say, “She did not last. They never do…”

The horrid images stabbed at the rim of her mind and she rubbed her temples as a migraine started to form. She reluctantly fell asleep on her large bed, her body still wrapped in the icy grip of death.

All throughout the night, her body and mind was wracked with the images of her passing—she was twisted and turning and it felt as if her body was going through a thousand deaths at a time. When she woke up, her body encased in a cold sheet of sweat, her head still whirled with the images of her hundreds of nightmares. She was becoming paranoid of her own impending death.

That night, she sat in her thrown and watched the people slide across the ballroom, happiness clearly shown on their face.

How could they all still be so happy? Did they not realize that they were going to die soon enough? The queen questioned herself.

She eyed a couple that was getting a little too close for comfort. She passed them an uncomfortable glare.

And they turned toward her, they’re bodies mere carcasses of what the once were—they were raw bones.

And then she blinked, and they were dancing again on the floor.

She took a deep breath. She was hallucinating. She shook her head, careful not to wreck her perfect pale green hair which had been delicately pulled into two high pigtails. She nearly slumped in her throne—she didn’t mean to. She wanted to close her eyes and sleep. She had spent the night tossing and turning and succumbing to deathly nightmares.

The queen stood from her thrown and before she could descend the few steps that rested in front of it, her servant, one of whom she could not remember his name, bent down on one knee.

“Miss Ravenweed wishes to speak with you, my queen.”

But she could no longer hear his proposal. She watched as he was no longer covered in warm flesh—he was naught but raw bone, dirty and grimy with decay. Her eyes widened, her stomach experienced a sharp pang of fear. Her chest heaved with each coming breath and her mind began to fill with voices—strange voices that could not be detected as her own.

She forced herself to look him in his empty eye sockets. “I must leave for the time being. I shall return shortly.”

But she froze in place just as she began to walk. Everyone was raw—some weren’t even just bones. They had bits of decaying flash hanging loosely from the rest of them. Their skin had become pallid and the room was suddenly ice cold and reeked of blood and flesh.

Fear finally wrapped its cold embrace around her. She tried to keep her legs stable as she walked across the ball room floor and out the door.

She took off. Out the castle doors she was, across the courtyard, out the palace gates, and into the woods that surrounded the Kingdom of Hearts. She felt her heart beat faster and faster, her breath becoming short. She felt tree branches nipping at her dress, her hair—her skin. She felt like she was being bitten by little rats.

She ran for what felt like forever. She knew her dress was probably torn to shreds. Death—it was chasing after her, right at her heels. That is why she couldn’t stop, even though her lungs were screeching for air.

She felt it getting closer and closer, trying to devour her. She couldn’t let it reach. She could not give her kingdom for someone else to rule. She had worked too hard for it.

And then, she fell. She was hardly able to stop her face from colliding with the dirt. She lay there, wheezing, trying to catch her lost breath, but it could not be found in time. She looked around the darkened forest, searching for some sort of escape.

And that was exactly what she found.

A bottle with a strange form lay amongst the dead grass. She crawled to it, reaching for it, though not knowing what it was. As soon as her hand grasped it, she struggled to sit up and read the label, her breathing still ragged and her mind still reeling with the images in the ballroom.

Immortalis, it read. She knew what it meant. She knew what would happen if she devoured the last few drops. She no longer cared of what may happen after this. She would not die. She would not let herself.

She yanked out the top and threw her head back as to let every drop pass her lips. It burned. It felt like she was drinking fire.

She howled in agony as it poured down her throat. She could not cough it up. It felt like it was crawling down. She grabbed her throat, clawing at it with her manicured nails as if to tear herself open pull it all out.
And then it was done. She collapsed on her back, her chest unmoving and her body becoming still. She lay there like a corpse, exactly what she had dreaded to be.

Her eyes opened, and they were no longer their bright color. They were bright red.

She may not be the ALICE of Wonderland, but at least she was alive. At least she would be able to rule her kingdom forever…