Phil In Wonderland

Down The Rabbit Hole

Everyone who knew Philip Lester would describe him with a single word: dreamer.
He would be off on wild adventures inside the crooks and crevices of his imagination all day if he could help it; which he often did regardless.
People thought him mad with him, a full grown man, spewing supposed nonsense about rabbits and living cards that guarded a bull-headed queen.

Phil was eighteen, and in this society, men of age don't stay alone for very long.

"Come sit with us, Phil dear!" His mother, Sarah, said, as she gestured to the table her and another woman were sitting at.

Phil plastered on what he hoped was a convincing smile and joined the two ladies at a tea table by the window.

"Hello mother," he said upon sitting down.

"Hello sweetheart! This is Victoria's mother," Sarah exclaimed excitedly.

Victoria Jameston was Phil's (forced) betrothed of two weeks.
Phil had absolutely no affection towards her; romantic nor platonic.

The woman scanned over Phil's casual black waistcoat and trousers and simply raised an eyebrow.
Despite the nagging urge to say a sarcastic comment, he nodded at her politely.

"So, Phil, your mother tells me that you're very imaginative!"

He nodded again, not really feeling the answer was important enough for spoken word.

"That's a great quality," Mrs. Jameston continues. "Great heretic trait."

Phil choked on his tea and looked at her with wide, horrified eyes.
"W-what??" He managed, still in slight distress.
Phil's mother spoke up before Mrs. Jameston could make Phil panic more.
"We don't need to discuss this now," clear warning in her voice.

The other woman's mouth pursed into a firm line, but she obliged.
The conversation picked up again between the two, Phil gratefully being left behind.

He scanned lazily over the room, looking for something interesting to ponder on.
Phil's eyes almost flick past the window before they widen and quickly whip back in that direction.
There, standing in front of the garden maze was a boy with curly brown hair, completely dressed in white.
He was staring intensely back at Phil.
After a few moments, the boy reaches into the pocket of his waistcoat and pulls out a pocket watch, tapping it furiously.

"Mother...." Phil said, not moving his gaze from the strange person. "I'm going to go out and get some air."

"Alright," she says, not even sparing him a glance.

He got up as quickly as he dared and sped from the room, the door all but slamming behind him.

He ran through the hallways until he pushed through the door leading outside.
The black haired boy slowed his pace and looked around somewhat frantically. The all-white boy was nowhere to be found.

Phil peeks his head around the corner of the maze entrance. Upon not seeing anything, he sighs and begins to turn around.

"Psst!"

"Gah!" Phil yelped, spinning back around.
Standing in front of the left turn was the boy dressed in white.
"Hey! You!"

"Follow me, Phil," The all-white boy said, tapping on his watch again. "We're already late!"
He dashed around the corner, Phil sprinting after him.
"Hey! Come back!"
"No time!" They yelled behind their shoulder in response.

Phil started to fall behind, his breath running out.
"W-wait!" He gasped out after the boy.
Eventually, the black-haired boy ran into the dead center of the maze; the other person nowhere to be seen.

There were no other entrances other than the one Phil was standing in, and nothing to hide behind in the area other than a tree.

After a few moments, the curly-haired boy popped up from a hole at the foot of the tree that Phil hadn't previously noticed.
Now that he was closer, Phil couldn't help but note how the other man's eyes glimmered like emeralds.

"Well? Are you coming?" He said impatiently.

Before Phil could answer, their head popped back down into the hole.

He rushed forward, alarmed, and looked down.

The hole was completely pitch black; nothing at all visible.

Leaning dangerously into the space, Phil held on to the ground around it, looking for any sign of the boy.

Phil sighed in disappointment once again as he tried to sit upright, but the ground underneath his left hand crumbled.

"What the-" he yelped, trying regain his balance to no avail.

With a scream, he tumbled through the hole.

Instead of landing immediately like he expected, Phil fell onwards as if he had fallen off a cliff.

The screams that filled the constant space slowly died down when the walls began to morph into wallpaper.

It was the same wallpaper as the kind in the living room, Phil thought, as he continued to fall. How curious...

Upside down and shattered picture frames of his family hung on the wallpaper, held up by broken kitchen knives.
Phil's old teddy bear from when he was eight's severed head was also pinned up with a malicious smile that definitely was not there ten years ago.

The black-haired boy squeezed his eyes shut as he tumbled, willing everything frightening to go away.

It felt like a lifetime he had been falling before he landed with a distinct plop on a cold, dirty marble floor.

Phil groaned in pain, rubbing his aching head as if it was going to help.
The room he was in was odd, to say the least. It appeared as if the room were upside down; the chandelier protruding from the floor like a barren fountain.
The ceiling appeared to be made of shiny white marble; something that would surely kill Phil if he were to hit his head on it.

Phil sat on his knees, looking around the room curiously.

He was pulled out of his thoughts as the room began to upright itself.

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This was my least edited story in progress so I decided it needed some love