To Love A Nutcracker

Chapter 12

Charlotte and Alastor moved cautiously, treading lightly to avoid making a sound, ensuring they remained concealed behind the trees and in the shadows. They halted when a scene unfolded before them. It was a group of those mice again, but this time they were not just playing with something—they were tossing around someone.

"Oh, come on, guys! Isn't it bad enough that your king turned me into a doll? Just look at me! My flawless skin is nothing but fabric! I've got marbles for eyes! And there's absolutely nothing between my legs anymore! I'm just a walking, talking sack of stuffing!"

Alastor and Charlotte squinted, taking in the sight of the unfortunate soul the mice were tormenting. He was an oversized ragdoll, adorned with snow-white yarn for hair and two shiny pink marbles for eyes. His body was made of pristine white fabric, meticulously stitched together with pink thread. He wore a pink shirt paired with white leggings, a pink striped scarf, white gloves, and long, pointed shoes that were also pink. On his back, a pair of delicate paper wings shaped like snowflakes fluttered helplessly.

"Stop it! Put me down! Ahh!"

The mice tossed him into the air, and he came crashing down with a thud.

"I don't get it. Why isn't he flying?" One mouse asked, scratching his head. "He has wings, doesn't he?"

"Yeah, but they don't work anymore." Another mouse replied. "Look, they're made of paper."

"Then I guess he doesn't need them anymore." A third mouse sneered before sadistically tearing the paper wings from the poor doll's back.

"No! My wings! You took my wings! You can't do that! Give them back!" He cried, desperation lacing his voice.

"Why should I? It's not like you'll ever fly with them again." The mouse retorted, a cruel grin spreading across his face.

In a particularly vile act, the mouse stuffed the torn wings into his mouth and chewed them to bits, much like a beaver gnaws on wood.

"Mmmm... Tasty." He sneered, prompting laughter from the other mice.

Meanwhile, the doll seethed with fury.

"Listen, pal! This harassment has gone on long enough, and I know my rights! I'll report you to the Frost Patrol!"He threatened, though his voice trembled slightly.

The mice, however, were unfazed.

"Let's chew up the rest of him!" One suggested eagerly.

The others nodded in agreement and lunged at him.

"Ahh! Help! Someone call an exterminator!" The doll cried out in panic.

"Oh, I can't bear this." Charlotte whispered, her eyes wide with horror. "We have to do something!"

"I agree, but let's not act recklessly." Alastor cautioned, gently grabbing her arm to prevent her from rushing in. "There are six of them and only two of us. Brute strength won't solve this."

"You're right." She replied, her determination unwavering. "But what can we do?"

"Let's check the Inventor's little bag of tricks." Alastor suggested, his mind racing with possibilities.

Alastor opened the satchel given to him by the Inventor and reached inside, his wooden fingers brushing against an object. He pulled out a small box, a note affixed to its lid catching his eye.

"Don't be fooled by the look or smell." Alastor read aloud. "These cubes should serve you well. Just turn the knob, toss away your trap, and watch the suckers get a nasty snap-snap."

"What does that mean?" Charlotte inquired, her brow furrowed in confusion.

"I have no idea." Alastor replied, a hint of excitement in his voice. "But there's only one way to find out."