PARKING LOT, UN HEADQUARTERS, GENEVA, SWITZERLAND
C arolus was close to hitting his head against the walls. It hurt so much. He needed another Lullaby pill. Why hadn’t this terrible Queen given him more than one pill?
“Cool down,” he spoke to himself. “It’ll only be moments before Alice comes looking for you outside. Be patient.”
But he couldn’t. He fell on his knees, his head buried in his hands. “I hate you, Lewis Carroll!”
While on the asphalt floor outside the meeting hall, he heard a voice in his head. A voice so evil he could not dismiss it.
Stand up. You’re close to achieving what no one has in years. You’re so close.
“Yes, my master.” Carolus propped himself on one knee, the pain surging into his spine now.
The voice continued.
The plan with the plague has been brilliant. Two years we have waited for this to happen. We had to bring wrath onto the world to get the attention of one girl.
“Of course, master,” Carolus said. “I must not give up. It’ll only be minutes until she comes out, and the plan is complete.” Slowly, he began to rise to his feet, a dark grin forming on his face. “I’m sure this plan will be taught in history books. It’s the plan of the century.”