T W O

 

Kyungsoo dove for the ferns, stumbling slightly over his feet before bolting through the fronds. He didn’t bother to push the leaves aside, opting to let him pelt his body as he ran. Another roar resounded, followed by tremors cutting through the ground. Kyungsoo wobbled, fighting to keep himself upright as roots stretched out to trip him and rocks rolled in his path.

He zigzagged through the brush, pounding the soil with his feet, fleeing as fast as he possibly could. A reverberating boom sounded behind him, but Kyungsoo refused to look back, knowing that he’d have no chance to outrun the creature if he did.

He ducked, turned right, then left, weaving a path he hoped wasn’t detectable from above. The sounds of pursuit didn’t fade, nor did they relent, but they weren’t growing louder. His heart was pounding in his ears, ready to blow out of his chest, and he in great heaves of breath into his screaming lungs. He wondered for a brief moment if turning around and fighting the monster would be easier.

When he shot out of the brush, shielding his face with his arms, he slid to a stop at the sight in front of him. Panting violently, he stared in disbelief.

Two more of the card creatures, a red club and diamond, were on the road, red booted feet pounding into the cobblestones, coming directly towards him. Kyungsoo faltered.

Fear clutched at his throat.

His heart burned.

His stomach churned.

And then there was a small sound. A slow shuffle halting next to him.

“Is it time for tea?” came a smooth voice. Kyungsoo turned his head to see a man, taller than himself, but not abnormally so, standing calmly with his arms akimbo, as if there weren’t three monsters charging at them. Kyungsoo, bracing himself on his knees, directed his incredulity to the stranger gazing at their pursuers in a bored fashion.

“Is that…what’s…important…right now?” Kyungsoo panted, taking note of the stranger’s suspiciously radioactive-looking pink hair from where it shot out in mushroom cloud of messy locks from under the brim of a grey top hat. The top hat, upon closer inspection, was ornamented with a large pocket watch, the hands pointing to four o’clock, and the rest of the face shattered so that the clockwork showed. Pinned under the clock were three orange feathers. Kyungsoo quirked a brow.

“That depends on your definition of important.” The man tugged his seaweed green vest down harshly and ran his hands along tanned forearms to push the white sleeves of his dress shirt to where they had slipped from above his elbows. Kyungsoo considered abandoning the pink head, eyes nervously darting between the oncoming card monsters, who had grown dangerously close, and the stranger beside him.

“My name is Kai,” the man explained, and in one motion, took off his hat, twirled it in his hands, and then swept it across his torso in a dramatic bow. Kyungsoo straightened to give a timid, more traditional greeting in return, and shifted nervously when Kai gave him a smirk that he wasn’t sure was meant to be charming or predatory. A hand encircled Kyungsoo’s wrist. “And we should be running.”

Kyungsoo couldn’t have agreed more.

Kai sprinted in the same direction the cards where running, pulling Kyungsoo in a full circle and all but dragging him along. He led them back into the forest of ferns, mismatched striped and polka dotted socks flashing in and out of Kyungsoo’s vision as they wove through the leaves and stray rocks.

“What are those things?” Kyungsoo yelled, furrowing his brows when he realized Kai’s grey pants were tucked into his garish socks, which were further tucked into tattered leather loafers. Even his shirt was haphazardly tucked into his waistline. It seemed like a terrible outfit for running.

“Card Guards!” came the reply, and as if on cue, one of the monsters unleashed an angry roar. “It’s what you become if the Red King decides you’re not worth Renewing.”

“Everybody’s talking about renewal! What is it?” Kyungsoo probed, trying not to be shaken by the sounds of pursuit.

“Everybody knows what Renewal is! What world do you come from?” Kai jested, throwing a skewed smirk over his shoulder.

“London!”

“London?” Kai’s face displayed brief surprise.

“Yes, in England,” Kyungsoo clarified. He must truly be from another world if Kai didn’t know where London was.

“Where’s that?”

“Somewhere very far from here. Where’s this?”

“Wonderland! Or more specifically, the Duke’s garden.”

“Is that the person the flowers where talking about? How big is he?” Kyungsoo asked, imagining the man to be as large as a giant.

“Rather tall.” Kai wasn’t looking at Kyungsoo anymore, returning his focus to maneuvering them through the ferns. “And no, that was probably me.”

“That explains the size of this garden, but the flowers said you’d be much taller,” Kyungsoo soliloquized. Kai let out a barking laugh.

“No, Kyungsoo, the garden is normal sized. We’re just small! Or, at least, I’m just small.” Kai gave Kyungsoo a look that read but I don’t know about you.

“That’s preposterous! How is it possible to become small?”

“A Drink Me potion of course.”

And then it clicked.

“Kai, when I landed here—there was this weird cat man, and he forced me to drink this awful purple-y syrup. That wouldn’t have anything to do with my size, would it?”

Kai skidded to a stop, making Kyungsoo smack right into his back. The two of them had halted in a small clearing; no noise except for their labored breathing permeated the air. Kai turned to face him slowly.

“Sounds like you had a run in with the Cheshire Cat,” Kai drawled, his standard British accent thickening to that of a Scott. Kyungsoo eyed him curiously, watching as a flash of magenta glinted in his hazel irises.

“The Cheshire Cat?” he inquired.

“Aye.” Kai’s face was grim.

“What does this mean for me?”

Kai placed a biker gloved hand on Kyungsoo’s shoulder, gaze softening and Scottish accent fading.

“It means you're the Red King’s property now, and justice must be served.”

“What?”

“No time to explain—not with the Card Guards on our heels. This way!” Kai gripped the smaller male’s hand again, dragging him further into the brush. The shrubs grew denser in this area of the garden, and Kai was forced to bring out a chef’s knife—from where, Kyungsoo had no idea—and start hacking at the thin branches to clear a path.

“By the way, Kai, have you seen a black cat?”

“No,” he took a breath, delivering a particularly hard blow to one of the branches, “why?”

“I was following one when I fell through a hole and ended up here,” Kyungsoo explained, shoving the fallen branches out of their path with his foot. Kai hummed in response and continued swinging his blade.

Suddenly, Kai froze, turning to Kyungsoo and hovering an index finger over his lips. Kyungsoo sent him a questioning look, but made no noise. Kai’s eyes scanned the area behind Kyungsoo, sweeping a toned arm around to push the smaller behind him. The sounds of rushing water filled his ears.

A loud rustling, followed by several crunching sounds, alerted the pair to the reappearance of the Card Guards. All three of them—club, heart, and diamond. They towered menacingly above the pair, bloody teeth grinning maliciously at their prey. Kyungsoo whimpered lowly and stepped closer to Kai.

Kai spread his feet apart slowly, bringing his arms up in a fighting stance. His Scottish accent filtered into his voice.

“I’ll take care of them,” he growled, backing the two of them farther into his knife-cut tunnel until they emerged on the other side. Kyungsoo found his heels wedging into the wet soil of a riverbed. Kai shot his hand in Kyungsoo’s direction.

“Take the knife,” he said.

“Wha—I can’t—what about you?” Kyungsoo protested, but gripped the knife anyway.

“I only have enough Eat Me cake for one of us, and besides—,” he reached his hands behind his back and pulled out a gear bedazzled revolver and a small cake with the words Eat Me iced onto the fondant, “I’ve got a gun.”

Kyungsoo shook his head. He’d just met the man, yes, but there was no way he was just about to abandon him to the wrath of the Card Guards. That wasn’t who he was.

“Kyungsoo,” Kai warned, “do as I say. Please.”

“You’re mad!”

Kai gave him another skewed smirk. “You gotta good grip on that knife?”

Kyungsoo nodded.

“Good.”

Kyungsoo opened his mouth to respond, his voice dying in his throat as he was given a powerful shove, sending him flying into the water. He bobbed quickly to the surface, sputtering in the surprisingly salty water and wiping the stinging liquid out of his eyes. He gripped the knife tightly, not wanting to lose it as he whirled in the current.

Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Kai growing in height, towering over the card guards who were now three quarters of the pink head’s height. Kai leveled the revolver, sending a soundless bullet through the skull of the first Card Guard. The heart Card Guard let out a pained howl as he fell, writhing on the ground before stilling. As he turned, Kyungsoo watched Kai bring the heel of his boot down on the heart’s head, grinding its cranium into fertilizer. The diamond Guard advanced on Kai as he handled the club, and Kyungsoo wanted to shout out a warning, but he doubted Kai would be able to hear him. The Guard knocked the gun out of Kai’s hand, and the pink head turned at last minute, blocking the Guard’s strike and entering hand-to-hand combat.

Just then Kyungsoo went swirling around a bend in the river, losing sight of Kai. The current accelerated tremendously, and he was clutching the handle of the knife for dear life as waves of saltwater crashed over his head. He coughed as he resurfaced, gasping to fill his lungs with as much air as they could take before the next wave smothered him. He tumbled under the surface of the river, eyes screwed shut and knife clutched flat against his chest to keep himself from losing an eye.

The water swirled and raged and pushed Kyungsoo in circles, forcing him into a fetal position. The current grew faster and faster, the rushing of the water a deafening roar. Then he was hurled over a ledge—a waterfall—and plunging into the depths of what lay far below. It was dark and cold and he was struggling to breathe—struggling to propel himself upwards; he felt so weak.

When he surfaced this time, the current had slowed to a mere drift and he was no longer fighting for air. Droplets of river water hung heavily on his previously gelled hair, sending streams of the liquid running down his face like tears. He wiped at the salty streams and slicked his bangs off his forehead, leaving his face blotchy, but semi-dry. He blinked hard, catching his breath as he coasted.

Despite the briny water and the rough beginning, Kyungsoo found the situation peaceful. On one side of the river, white lilies grew in the river bank. On the other side, brilliantly red roses blossomed in the mud. He wondered briefly why they were so devoid of life compared to the flowers in the Duke’s garden. Perhaps the soil was too soft here.

It was warm—pleasantly so, and Kyungsoo was exhausted. He’d ran for what felt like hours trying to escape from the card guards, and directly after, thrown into the wildest river ride of his life. He wanted to go home.

He wanted to go home to a warm, comfortable bed so he could have the best sleep of his life, and to his aunt, who would ask him where he’d been and if he wanted cookies (the answer was always “yes”), and to Baekhyun.

Baekhyun.

What would he be doing?

Was he looking for Kyungsoo?

Had he even noticed Kyungsoo never came home?

Would he miss his cousin?

Kyungsoo shook his head and gave his reflection on the river’s surface a stern look. Of course Baekhyun would have noticed—would be missing him; Baekhyun was his best friend!

Kyungsoo spread eagled on his back. The current was rocking him from side to side, much like a mother does to her child to lull them to sleep. It was working—for Kyungsoo that is. His eyelids were heavy, and despite his subconscious telling him it was a horrendous idea to fall asleep in water, his body defied his mind’s wishes.

--

It was dark, and cold. Kyungsoo felt like he was floating—or drowning. He felt a sort of weightlessness, yet he couldn’t move at all, nor could he make a sound. He was tired, so, so tired, and yet he had the feeling he’d been sleeping for a long time. Was he alone in this darkness?

He couldn’t see, he couldn’t move, he could barely even think. But, he could hear.

“It was you! It was all you!” a smooth baritone belted.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” a lighter, melodious voice replied calmly.

“Don’t lie to me, you !”

“Language, don’t be rude.” A shoe tapped impatiently against tiled floor.

“Rude? Rude? I have every right. You are a scheming, hateful, manipulative, ! You plant lies in his head to drive every one away, everyone—to keep him to yourself. Tell me, does he even like you? Or does he only hang around you because you’re family?”

A shuffle and then a scoff.

“He likes me plenty. Much more than you, if I recall. He was the one who left you crying on the front porch.”

A breath shuddered out.

“That was low.”

“Still sore? It’s been three months; I think it’s time for you to let go,” the speaker had a cocky lilt to his voice.

“Funny, I could say the same for you.”

“What do you mean?” The question sounded genuine, not snide like the rest had.

“You know what I mean.”

“Perhaps.”

“Then tell me, and be honest about it—no deceitful : did you or did you not push him in front of that bus?” the baritone speaker’s voice was firm.

“I wasn’t even there.”

“Did you or did you not?”

“No.”

“I don’t believe you.”

“Then that’s your problem. If I wasn’t there, how could I push him in front of a bus? Besides, witnesses say he ran in front of it,” came the reply laden with nonchalance.

Silence fell like snow, smothering his only functional sense and leaving him with an incessant ringing to make up for the lack of sound.

“Visiting hours are almost up. You should go,” the second speaker stated softly.

“I know you did this. I’ll be back, and I’ll prove it,” the first speaker no longer sounded angry, just determined as he bid his farewell.

A sigh of irritation.

“Just go.”

A door slid shut.

Heels clicked against tile, growing louder, nearer. Kyungsoo could hear faint breathing next to his ear.

“Oh, Kyungsoo. How easy would it be to kill you like this?” Fingers rubbed against plastic. Nails scraped along metal.

“What would happen if I just—,” a whoosh sent a gust of air rushing across his face, “—pulled the plug?”

Malicious laughter faded into a sigh. The bitterness that followed was almost tangible.

“You should have died in that house fire—not your brother. Your sweet, charming elder brother. He was mine. Mine. And now he’d dead because of you. I should just finish you off right now, huh? Quick and easy—just like that. But, luckily for you, it would be much more pleasurable to make your life a living hell. And I’m close to it.”

There was a warmth next to his ear, and shaky, hot breaths.

“When you wake up, Kyungsoo, you better be prepared, because your life will be hell. I’ll make sure of it.”

“Sir? Visiting hours are over. I’m going to have to ask you to leave,” a request sounded. It was a woman—most likely a nurse.

The warmth disappeared and the seething simmered down to a cheery chirp.

“Of course! Sorry to bother you so late, I’m just so worried for Kyungsoo. If anything were to happen to him, I don’t know what I’d do!”

-

Something was poking his face. He didn’t know what it was, or where it came from, but it was poking him in the cheek.

And it was annoying.

Of course, the sobbing was annoying too.

“S-sir, no dying please. Wake up,” someone blubbered.

Kyungsoo’s eyes fluttered open and he groaned, immediately rolling on his side. The sun was way too bright, and there was water in his ears. Great.

“Oh, y-you’re alive.” The sobbing hadn’t ceased. Kyungsoo looked towards the source and found a boy, probably not much younger than himself, huddled over him. He had an oblong face, features too spread out and eyebrows too close together to be symmetrical, but attractive none the less. Kyungsoo quickly scanned the boy’s figure, looking for the appearance quirks the natives seemed to sport—like flaming pink hair and cat tails—but he found nothing.

“Who are you?” Kyungsoo asked, pushing himself into an upright position.

“M-me? I’m the Mock Turtle,” he gave a tentative smile. Kyungsoo frowned, looking over him once more. The Mock Turtle wasn’t stumpy at all, like a turtle should be. Rather, his legs were much too long and gangly, and he wasn’t any part turtle—except for the rough scaly patches that blossomed on his neck and cheeks.

“Kyungsoo.”

The Mock Turtle nodded, jugular bobbing as he gulped lungfuls of air, then continued to weep. Kyungsoo observed this awkwardly.

“Uh, why are you crying?” he offered and winced when the Turtle wailed louder. This boy had to be the origin of the phrase “cry me a river”.

“It’s the Duke!”

“What about him?”
“He tried to make me into soup!”

Kyungsoo’s eyebrows fused together.

“I’m sure that was very scary, but you survived, yeah?”

Another nod.

“Then why are you crying?”

“My precious shell! He has it!”

“How terrible. Listen, I was following a black cat before I was attacked by Card Guards. You didn’t happen to see one run by, did you?”

The Mock Turtle shook his head before choking out:

“N-no, but the C-caterpillar would know.”

Kyungsoo clapped his hands together. “Great! And how do I get to him?”

“I could t-take you there—.”

Kyungsoo beamed.

“—if you retrieve my shell.”

His smile faltered.

“What would I have to do?”

“S-seeing that this is the Duke’s garden—.”

“This is still his garden!”

“—you’d have to go to his m-manor to get it.”

“Fantastic. How big is this guy?”

“Larger than the b-both of us combined.”

“Well then I’m much too small for this mission!”

“I w-wish I was smaller… here, take this. I’m afraid it w-won’t be of much use to me.” The Mock Turtle handed him a coin-sized object before backing away from Kyungsoo and sitting on a tree stump.

“What is it?”

“It’s the growing side of a m-mushroom. It’s not m-much so you won’t get that much t-taller, but it should h-help.”

Kyungsoo had a special distaste for the rubbery texture of mushrooms, but that didn’t stop him from swallowing the lump if it meant he’d grow some. And grow some he did, in fact, he doubled his height. He stood about the same height as the Mock Turtle from where he sat on the stump. It wasn’t nearly as tall as he would have liked—he was probably around three and a half feet, but it would have to do.

The Mock Turtle pointed at a path nestled in between the sparse trees behind him.

“It’s that way to the D-duke’s manor.”

Kyungsoo nodded.

 

The interior of the Duke’s manor was the same as the exterior—all marbled pillars and luxurious décor. Kyungsoo stood in awe of the massive crystal chandelier in the foyer upon entry. There was a grand staircase to his left and right, as well several hallways. The walls were adorned with banners and large paintings of the same man—a regal looking man with a structured jaw, thick eyebrows, and deep purple hair. There was only one person it could be: The Duke.

“Hello,” The Duke greeted from where he stood on the balcony formed from where the staircases met. Kyungsoo startled, hastily bowing and exchanging a greeting in return. The Duke descended the stairs gracefully with one hand trailing down the railing. He was wearing clothes befitting of a duke, slacks and a high-collared shirt complete with epilates. Slung over his arm, however, was a forest green leather jacket whose material seemed not to be of leather, but of scales. Kyungsoo eyed it; it resembled a shell.

“I am the duke of this area. Duke Kris, although most people know that. Who might you be?”

Despite Kai saying that the Duke was a normal sized person, he was quite tall.

“Kyungsoo.”

The Duke nodded in reply, stepping off the staircase and pulling a yo-yo from his pocket. He hooked his finger around the string before letting the toy fly out of his hand, only to have it whirl back and land perfectly in his palm.

“I would offer you tea, but I have a feeling you come here with motives other than gazing upon my pretty face in mind.”

Kyungsoo internally scoffed, The Duke did have a pretty face, he’d give him that, but if only he had a solid personality to match…

Kyungsoo decided not to beat around the bush with formalities and smiles.

“I’ll be needing that jacket, Duke Kris,” he ordered.

“Hmm… I don’t think I’ll be giving it up any time soon. I’ve grown quite fond of it,” Duke Kris replied smoothly, playing with his yo-yo once more. Kyungsoo pursed his lips; who did this guy think he was?

A duke, of course, but having a high place in society should not give a person the liberty to belittle others. Aristocrats were just rich bullies, Kyungsoo concluded.

“Nonsense! It’s not yours to keep! Hand it over!” he demanded.

The Duke narrows his eyes at Kyungsoo, his cool expression morphing into that of boiling ferocity. It was obvious to anyone that he wasn’t used to defiance. The yo-yo flew back into his large palm and he turned it over, examining the toy with a hard gaze which he turned to Kyungsoo before letting the yo-yo drift towards the ground. When the yo-yo reached the end of its string, it did not keep spinning as it usually would, but instead released a short burst of spasms before sprouting four curved and serrated blades.

Kyungsoo’s eyes bulged: this could not be good.

“You want it that badly?” the Duke almost sang, smirking slightly as the blades began to whirr. He yanked on the string a couple of times, tauntingly bouncing the yo-yo-murder-device.

“Take it.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

(A/N)

 

Thanks for reading all the way through. This is extremely unedited and unbeta-ed. I will read through it later. So…tired…

p.s. do you guys want me to put a word count at the end of each chapter??