Toxic Wonderland

Chapter 1: Hall of Doors

Once more, Mal checked her pockets. Inside, in black ink, were lines and words and symbols written, drawn, and sewn. She looked down to her light cotton pants to see the same stretched down their lengths, around the hems, and circling to the back. Her plain shoes looked similar, as did the jacket she wore and the simple messenger bag hanging at her side.

“All in a Golden Afternoon
Full gloomily we glide;
For both our wits and mighty strength,
By mighty arms are plied,”

Pulling up her sleeve, she checked the marks there as well; first one arm, then the other. Not a little bit could be smudged, not even a dot of an intersecting line out of place. These little details mattered.

With her gaze flickering once more to the door in front of her, Mal continued to recite the cantrip she’d been saying for eleven years.

“With bloody hearts and cruel intents,
Our wanderings to guide.”

The door was purple and worn with the wood grain rubbed through. It was crooked in that the top right corner was nearly three inches higher than the left corner. And the top was four feet in width, but the bottom only two and a half.

There was a knocker that appeared to be rusted into place. If she tried to use it, would it move? Would it squeak and wail? Better yet, if she knocked, would she get an answer?

“Ah, Cruel Three! In such an hour
Caught in such dreary weather,
To beg a tale of will too weak
To rip the finest feather!
Yet what can one poor blade avail
Against three blades together?”

The doorknob was old, Victorian ornate, worn bronze that still shone in the dim lighting of the hall. There was a large keyhole made for an old skeleton key. The knob was oblong.

Taking a deep breath, Mal pulled out her little memorandum book. Taped to the back of the cover were the rules. Even though she had them memorized, and had for several years now, she couldn’t stop herself from reading them again.

1.     This is a one-way door. Once one enters, the door seals shut. It will only open again when one fails. Otherwise, should one succeed, the door will vanish forever.

2.     Your sole mission is to set the world right again. There is a wrong afoot, not necessarily the “evil” you might anticipate, but something has knocked the world off balance. Your one and only job, your sole purpose in your life once you walk through that door, is to set the world right.

3.     As stated in Rule 1, this is a one-way door. You will not be returning, nor will you ever have contact with anyone Outside ever again. Again, your primary goal is to fix the world. But remember along the way that you will need to build a life there. You won’t be coming back. Period.

4.     Yes, you can die. You are subject to whatever the laws of their universe are. Those who have gone before you have likely died while on their mission.

Mal took a breath and looked at the door again. To her right were two more doors before the hall ended in a dead end. To her left were more than a dozen. These four on the end had been there the longest. These were the doors all those before her had failed.

“Imperious Prima says with force
‘We must now begin it’ -
In harsher tone Secunda says
‘There be all Nonsense in it’ -
While Tertia chides and breaks the tale
Every single minute.”

Eleven years ago, she had entered into the facility with her twin brother as an escape from the abuse of her uncle. The Operators had given them two weeks to decide if they’d like to stay or if they’d like to find another home. But Mal and Reth had purposefully chosen Fair Ree Tayle Fix, commonly referred to as DeadEnd by the Fixers, as their future. They didn’t need the two weeks.

On her left, Reth was doing much the same things she was. Checking, double checking, examining his door – that of a medieval castle, or dungeon – rereading the rules, and checking again.

Reth glanced at her and offered her a smile.

“Nobody, sudden Silence claim,
In large droves they pursue
The Dream Child moved through the land
Of wonders wild and cruel,
A mighty cat, a bird, a beast-
And with it something new.”

Reth smiled further. “You ready, Mally?”

Mal nodded. They’d been waiting their whole lives for this. Training. Studying. Reading. Training some more. Even so, it didn’t change that she’d be leaving everything and everyone she knew.

Absently, Mal patted her bag. She was taking very little with her, but one set of items was a picture of her and her brother, one of the two of them and their parents, and a third and final one of her, Reth, Ira, and Len.

Ira and Len were on Mal’s right. Ira had been here when Reth and Mal arrived at thirteen. She sat directly next to Mal, looking at a door… well, it looked more like a tree trunk with a hole just big enough for her to slide down. And Len on the far end had been here for the last eight years, now sitting in front of a door that looked remarkably like a hot air balloon.

The two girls looked at her and grinned identical, yet distinct grins. The four of them had been inseparable. Partially because of the doors they were chosen for, the four longest-running, unfixable doors. But partially because they just clicked.

“As the story moved along
The maids of fair did die,
And bravely strode the weary One
To set the story right,
‘The rest next time-’ ‘It is next time!’
The weeping voices cry.”

Len shook her head. “Always reciting that creepy ballad. I’m glad my door didn’t come with a doomsday prediction.”

“I suppose the fact that it’s been unfixed for generations doesn’t count as a doomsday prediction…” Ira said.

“Not at all,” Len said as she flicked her hair over her shoulder.

“They all have dead ends,” Reth said. “Whether we fix them or not.”

That seemed to dampen their moods considerably. Yes, they were a dead end. There was no moving beyond that plane.

“Okay,” Ira said and stood. “One last goodbye. But this is it!”

Len rolled her eyes and stood, a smile dancing on her face. Reth and Mal stood as well and the four came together for a tight group hug.

For a long time, the four stood in a warm, comfortable, familiar embrace. It would be the last time, the final farewell.

“We chose this,” Ira said. “We chose this.”

They had. Every one of them. Mal shivered. That didn’t make this any easier.

“I love you guys,” Len said with a sniffle.

The three returned the sentiment in unison. Again, several long minutes passed. Finally, Mal pulled back. There wasn’t exactly a deadline on when they needed to walk through their doors but today was the day. They had graduated. There was no putting it off.

It was time.

Ira put her fist in the middle of the group before they disbanded. On it was a tiny fairy silhouette tattoo, smaller than the size of a penny, embedded on the skin between her thumb and first finger.

Reth smiled and added his fist to the group, an owl silhouette. With a teary laugh, Len put hers in as well, a little cyclone. And lastly, Mal joined in, a little teacup and saucer. Their four fists expanded like a strange flower or the braces of a cog.

“Okay, okay,” Len said as she pulled away at last. “It’s time. Five more minutes and that’s it.”

The three nodded their agreement and all returned to the chairs across from their specific doors.

A moment later, Reth was kneeling in front of Mal, his forehead against hers. “I need to know you forgive me,” he said, bright eyes imploring.

“There’s nothing to forgive,” Mal said, resting against him.

He shook his head slightly. “I wish I could believe that.”

His words were almost imperceptible; they were so low.

“I love you, Reth. You have taken care of me since our parents died. Always. Always. I know you don’t think so, but I promise you there’s nothing to forgive. You were protecting me, even then.”

He bowed his head. When he met her eyes again, his looked glassy with unshed tears. “Know that if it were an option, I’d kill him. He had no right-”

“I know,” Mal said. “I think perhaps you should have continued counseling.”

Reth grinned and kissed her cheek. “Take care of yourself, baby sister.”

“You too, big brother. And when you think of me, don’t think of that, okay? Think of this, of when we were with our parents. Here with Len and Ira. Think of the happy when you think of me.”

Reth smiled. “Yeah, I will.”

“Promise?” Mal asked with a brow raised.

He laughed. “I promise.”

A moment later, he was back at his seat. But their five minutes were up.

Len stood first. Ira followed. Mal and Reth as well.

“Make a happy life,” Ira said.

Len shivered.

As one, the four placed their hands on the knobs (Reth’s was actually a wrought iron ring that he had to pull on and Ira braced her hand on either side of the hole in the tree, one foot dangling inside) and together, they opened their doors.

Mal looked into dark woods beyond the door. With a deep breath, she walked in. The door shut behind her. Except that when she looked back, there was no door to begin with.

“To fix the tale of Wonderland:
Killed cruelly all Wrong Ones,
Its harsh events were beaten out -
And when the tale is done
A home One builds, with seven beasts
Beneath the rising sun.

“Malice! Not a fairy tale
With not a gentle hand,
Be it in Childhood’s yards of bone
In Memory’s all dead band,
Like babes’ fair laugh be dead and gone
Staked in the Far-Off land.”