Present: Jabberwocky War, London
J ack is still occupying the Jabberwocky with ridiculous talk about how he likes him so much and is pissed off he left him as a child. Somehow it’s still working. I guess fathers always want to bond with their sons. Problem is, I’m too late for the plan we discussed, the one I’m not supposed to hate him for after finishing.
Trust me, he told me the plan but never told me why I would hate him after.
Right now, my guts are churning to death in the palm of my own nemesis’ hands. Malice.
“Why don’t you just get done with it?” I spit my pain back at her.
“I’ve gotta give it to you, Alice,” she says. “You’re strong because I’ve been squeezing hard. Let me see,” she acts as if trying to look into my guts. “Is that the liver? Kidney? I guess I should hit the kidney. You have two anyways, which makes your death slower.”
Her next squeeze hits harder. I don’t care whether it’s a kidney or a liver. I’m being gutted from the inside out.
“Ever wonder why I haven’t squeezed the heart?” She snickers.
The idea itself scares me. That would be the end of me. Surely enough if I let her squeeze my organs long enough.
I’m down on both knees with the Vorpal sword on the ground beside me. It’s glittering, wanting me to use it, but how?
Malice is a bit too far away for me to stab her. If I throw the sword at her and miss, I’m without it. It’s like betting on my last card. My brain is frozen from the pain inside. I can’t think clearly.
All I know is that she can squeeze inside me because she is a part of me. Does that mean I can squeeze her guts as well?
It takes effort to lift one arm up while the other holds my stomach. My veins are protruding in blue on my arm as if I’ve been to the gym, lifting the heaviest of weights. My palm is clenched and I'm begging it to loosen up so I can squeeze.
Not that I’m sure how this kind of magic works. I guess I’m going to focus my intentions on Malice’s guts.
A deep breath helps me loosen up my hand. Now it’s all about the effort to squeeze these numb fingers. I search my mind and soul for Malice’s insides but can only picture maggots and eels.
“You’re not trying to squeeze my guts, Alice, are you?” She mocks me. “It doesn’t work like that. You’re too stupid to figure it out.”
In the distance, I hear the conversation between Jabberwocky and Jack escalating. It doesn’t sound as planned. This is getting out of hand.
Back to Malice.
There must be a connection. If she is a part of me, then I must have access to her physically like she has to me. What is it?
Pain surges and numbs my peripherals.
My mind races back to the idea of Good Alice and Bad Alice. The reason why Fabiola at some point wanted to kill me—I don’t blame her now, having seen Malice. The thing I’m looking for is whether good came first or bad. Light or darkness. I know everyone supports the idea of dark coming first and then turning to light.
But I don’t believe that, or Malice would have been the original and I would have been a copycat. And I damn well know I’m the original me.
Which means she can reach inside me because I’ve encompassed her, like a rotten apple on a tree. The apple is rotten, but not necessarily the tree. To stop the apple from infecting the rest of the tree, the tree has to shake it off.
I need to shake Malice’s grip off. I mean out of my guts.
The Vorpal sword glitters harder now, and the craziest idea comes to mind. An idea inspired by the Pillar when we were in Russia. When he was fighting a giant in the snow and let him hit more and more until he lured the big giant to his demise.
I get it.
It’s madness.
What’s new?
Instead of squeezing my fingers, I reach for the Vorpal sword.
“Not going to help,” Malice snickers.
She has no idea what I’m about to do. I don’t even know if it’s the right thing, but I have no choice but to follow the Pillar’s theory.
Side thought; did he show me these things to let me use them in the future?
I grip the Vorpal sword as hard as my feebleness allows me and raise my eyes and flare my nostrils at Malice.
“You like my kidney so much, eh?” I ask.
This time I see she might have an idea what I’m going to do. It not only baffles me, but it baffles her.
I twist my hand and stab myself in the back right next to the kidney. I might miss, and it might kill me, but I have to. Never thought I’d be stabbing myself like this...
But foolish me thought I could penetrate my skin so easily from this weird angle and with my feeble grip. I only wound myself but not deep enough.
Ironically, I can’t feel the pain, compared to my shredded guts.
But it works.
Malice loosens up her grip and steps back.
The pain leaves me and delight of freedom fills me all over, except the pain of flesh in my back. Either the sword gives me power or I’m so into killing the Jabberwocky the pain means nothing me to me.
“Crazy bitch ,” she mutters to herself, but of course I hear her. “You were going to kill yourself to kill me?”
I stand up and raise my sword. I feel darkness inside me. Darkness I can use to find light. “I’m not afraid to die, Malice. You know why?”
She takes another step back, not saying a word.
“Because I have a purpose I can die for. You have nothing to die for.”
I didn’t expect her to run away. Was it that easy? I mean it wasn’t that easy but I thought she’d fight back. While running away, I hear say, “I will not let you do this to me again.”
“Again?” I ask, perplexed.
“I won’t let you use me, Malice the darkest of all darkness, to do good like you did to me back in Wonderland.”
I’m not sure what she is talking about, but Jack screams distract me. When I turn, fire spews all over the place.