Claws raked through her delicate skin, piercing veins and snapping tendons; Alice wept in agony, now lacking the physical capacity to scream. Wet with warm blood, the poor, poor child (we do pity her so) could do naught but let herself be clawed to oblivion.
Her survival is quite a remarkable fact, I daresay.
It took every single ounce of will, every single ounce of strength within our dear heroine to, somehow, manage to crawl away through a tiny opening, out which the terrible monster could not fit.
Suddenly struck with an eerie light, Alice peered down at herself, lips quivering and hands stained crimson, remembering that the dress she now wore had once been blue, and not shredded. As her tears splashed onto her hands, which were pressed against her bloody torso, they mixed in with the scarlet blood there, forming a liquid rich in salt and iron. Standing with weak knees, she fumbled onward, dizzy with pain and loss of precious blood. How she could even walk remains a mystery to me- perhaps a few key nerves of hers had been severed?
The girl's once-vibrant blue eyes began to notice something... well, off, for lack of a better word, about her surroundings. Subtle things. The taste of the cool air. The color of the flowers. The way the sunlight struck the twisted trees. After a while, she realized that things were getting more and more distorted- the sky was yellow, the shapes of the tiny birds around her were warped and out of scale, and there were absolutely no other animals to be heard- not even a buzzing fly. Overall, the whole place reminded Alice of a dream turning into a nightmare- like a sort of madhouse and fun-house all twisted up into one sick world of wonder.
What was next, an evil dysfunctional tea party, or something of the likes?!
YOU ARE READING
Malice in Wonderland
HorrorMy 7th grade English teacher gave my class an assignment to write a short story entitled 'Malice in Wonderland'. Warning: violent, vivid, and unpleasant.
