White Rabbit [Rewrite]

𝟸. ᴍʀ ᴘᴜᴄᴋ ᴀɴᴅ ᴛʜᴇ ᴅᴇᴀᴛʜ ɴᴏᴛᴇ

This chapter is dedicated to SmallBobInc for listening to my many rants and helping deal with the writing problems that always seem bigger than they really are <3

♦ ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ ᴛᴡᴏ ♦
ᴍʀ ᴘᴜᴄᴋ ᴀɴᴅ ᴛʜᴇ ᴅᴇᴀᴛʜ ɴᴏᴛᴇ

| ᴀʟɪɴᴀ |

ᴅᴇᴀᴛʜ ʜᴜʀᴛ.

Death hurt so bad I still felt kinda alive.

Or maybe life hurt so bad I felt kinda dead?

My entire body ached, pain coursed through me like I'd been used as a mallet in an aggressive game of croquet.

Not only did death hurt, but it was also loud.

In the distance water bubbled and folded, with rolling waves that slapped the ground and a soft current that pushed and pulled my body. I could feel myself rise and fall with the tide, only inches, but it was enough to give me a feeling of nausea.

I felt disoriented, and my eyes were too heavy to open. Flashes of light shone behind my lids and suddenly I wasn't sure if I even wanted to see where I'd ended up.

I started off slowly, moving my fingers and feeling the damp concrete under my palms. I wiggled my toes; somewhere in the mess of my Monday I'd lost my left shoe. Then I took a breath. A deep, sharp inhale that almost made me cough up a lung as I rolled onto my side. My chest burned like I'd been stabbed by a hedgehog's quill as I spewed water until-

My memories came flooding back.

Grey eyes. Black hair. White suit.

It had all happened. The ferry ride, the lawyer's office, the coffee shop and ... well, a very unpleasant car ride and an unplanned swim.

Tan skin. White teeth. Pointed nose.

I repeated the words to myself as I began checking my body for swollen limbs and open wounds. My head spun in protest, gravity urging me to stay down, but I couldn't go back to sleep. One more hour and my imagination could warp the face of the bastard that killed me.

Grey eyes. Black hair. White suit.

It took a few minutes until I could stand, opening my eyes enough to take in the scene. A concrete dome surrounded me. Debris and rubble scattered about like a twisted halo as the only source of daylight was a single beam that filtered in. I could have been anywhere, from an abandoned treatment plant to a discarded part of the city sewer.

All I knew was that I felt weak.

As I turned, eyes trained on the roof, a single drop of water fell from above. Landing between my eyes and slipping down to the tip of my nose. My vision spun, my knees gave out, and my head cracked against the pavement.

Tan skin. Big teeth. Button nose?

♦

| ᴀ ʙʀɪᴇғ ᴅᴇᴛᴏᴜʀ ғʀᴏᴍ sʟᴇᴇᴘ |

"ɪ ᴅᴏɴ'ᴛ ʜᴀᴠᴇ ᴀɴʏ ғᴀᴍɪʟʏ, ᴍʀ ᴘᴜᴄᴋ. ʏᴏᴜ'ᴠᴇ ᴍᴀᴅᴇ ᴀ ᴍɪsᴛᴀᴋᴇ"

From across the table, Mr. Puck stared at me.

No, let me rephrase that.

He bore into my soul whilst grinding his teeth on cherry flavoured cough drops. As still as a statue. He didn't blink, didn't breathe, only moved his hands as he meticulously flattened an already-wrinkle-free piece of paper.