Dripping, dripping, dripping…….

Sound of dripping water rang continually. Her body refused to budge. The vision was blurred. The head hurt badly, ringing. Yet, not all of senses were gone. The nose caught something from the air. It smelt like copper.

Dripping, dripping, dripping……

After a few seconds, the pupils were able to make out unclear shapes of her surroundings. Why was everything so red?

“The Queen of Hearts….

 “….. She made some tarts……

 “….. All on a hot summer’s day…….”

Who is singing? A child’s voice and sound of footsteps were getting closer. She turned her head a bit, to the source from where the sound came. A small red figure appeared in view.

Who is it? she asked, but no sound came out.

“The Knave of Hearts……

Dripping, dripping, dripping………..

“….. He stole those tarts…."

It was a familiar voice. The small red figure stopped a meter away from her. She glanced up, trying to see through the shadow covering the face under a red hood. Her eyes widened. It was a familiar face.

“What. . . what are you . . .doing?” Her question came as a whisper. She forced her head to jerk up for a better view, scanning around again. Her stomach twisted. Red painted the whole place. Water wasn't dripping. It was blood. Its nauseous smell overwhelmed the room. Blood splattered on every surface. Far away, bodies lied on the ground. Not moving.

“What is going on?” She mumbled, turning her gaze back the small figure.

But the figure smiled sweetly at her and giggled.

Chill ran down her spine and she shuddered. Something was wrong. Something was very very wrong.

“Answer me!” She yelled out eventually.

“….. And the mad queen said….” The red figure started to sing again, leaned down, and whispered to her ear, “… Off with the head.”