Free Malice in Wonderland #1: Alice the Assassin by Lotus Rose Page B

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    The Hatter looks kind of swirly…like a pineapple cactus or something. No, wait, there isn’t such a thing. Or maybe there is, in Wonderland. It had been such a long time since she’d lived in the ordinary world where reality followed proper rules. Who knows, maybe if a gardener—
    The Hatter clears his throat.
    Mary realizes she has been kind of staring vacantly at him.
    He says, “May I ask you a question?”
    “Okay.”
    “Why is a raven like a writing desk?”
    She rolls her eyes. “I’ll tell you later.”
    “It shouldn’t be too much later, as I will be inconveniently indisposed being deceased.”
    Alice can believe that. The Hatter is outright shuddering now.
    The Hatter says, “So whose heart was it, anyway?”
    Alice shrugs. “I’ll tell you, if you tell me what’s so special about your hat.” He’d always referred to it as his “very special hat”, but never said why.
    The Hatter sighs. “Very well. There’s no point in keeping the secret anymore. And besides, I’m just dying to tell you.” He chuckles. “Sorry, a little bit of gallows humor. Yes, this my dear, is my voyeur hat. Why, I’m proud to say, I designed it expertly myself! It is exquisite for what it does! All I have to do is tap the top to make it work. Its only limitation is it can only be used three times a day. I can see your expression. What does it do, you wonder.”
    Alice nods with an encouraging grin.
    “Why I use it to watch you, my dear. Though, since I can only use it for short amounts of time, I try to get the timing right so I can view you when you are suffering.”
    Her smile falters. “Suffering?”
    “Yes, all the creative and delicious torments the creatures of Wonderland subject you to. Oh, how I love to watch! To see the exquisite agony on your face, to watch the tears roll down your cheeks, to hear you sob. Oh, you are so exquisitely beautiful in your suffering my dear. And that’s why this is the only hat I wear.” He gazes into her eyes. “Why you are the most beautifully suffering creature I’ve ever seen. Why I wish someone would torture you right now so I could witness your beautiful pain one more time before I die.” He wipes a bead of sweat from his forehead.
    Alice says, “Well, what if I were to wear that hat?”
    “Well, it’s tuned to you, but it would be silly to see yourself, don’t you think? Perhaps you would see your twin. Perhaps you could use the hat to get revenge on her? I mean, for my sake. Venge my death, won’t you, my dear?”
    Alice’s grin grows huge. Why, the Hatter looks absolutely wretched at this moment. Why, it seems as if he’ll keel over at any instant. There are bits of sparkly pops of light in her vision, but she thinks that must be the lingering effects of the spice.
    She waits for him to ask…
    “So,” he says, “you said you’d tell me.” He coughs for several seconds. “So, who’s heart was it?” His voice sounds raspy.
    “It was mine.” As his face registers fear, she nods. “Yes, I’m heartless now.”
    He nudges the Dormouse. “I say, my man, wake up. There’s a little girl you must maul.” The Dormouse doesn’t respond.
    Alice doesn’t break her gaze with him. “You’re close now, aren’t you? You look terrible.”
    “Yes. But we all go sometime, right?”
    She nods. “Fancy a riddle?”
    Mournfully he says, “Sure.”
    “Why is a raven like my writing desk?” Alice asks.
    “Are you going to tell me? I haven’t much time.”
    “Because they both belong to the past and refer to what will be nevermore. A bit of a stretch I admit, but we both know you never intended the poem to have an answer.”
    He nods sagely. “Ahhh…” His eyes begin to roll to the back of his head. “I do believe I’ll be dying now.”
    “No wait! One more thing?”
    “Yes? Go on then.”
    She picks up a custard pie, lifts the hat off his head, and smushes the pie into his face. The timing is perfect and he slumps over face down on the table,