The world is terrible. It’s filled with rot, a stagnation that permeates the very core of its being. There’s nothing but sex, drinking, drugs, and every other hedonistic vice one can think of. No matter where one looks, someone is trying to use the very problem to get away from its symptoms, and visit a softer, sweeter place. The source of it all, is the Royals.
The Queen, who lives in majesty over a Capital flush with debauchery and sin. She enjoys a lavish life with all the food, righteous violence, and fearful respect she could ask for. Her castle sits on a hill above it all from where she offers no law but that of against murder. The death of another Wonderlander, or human. Even that is such a quaint superfluous law. The one thing that one could use to gain traction and shock the others out of their stupor is outlawed. And for that, I would almost admire her sly intelligence, if it weren’t for the way she had ruled her country into the muddy ground. It’s through her negligence that the world is a cesspool, that slavery is rampant, that rape goes unchallenged and that no one bothers to ask as to why. But she is not the only cause.
The King, who lives in the north against a sheer wall of mountain, looking down over his terrified people and grinning. He’s a mysterious, savage figure that installs his own laws and enjoys especially the suffering of others. Of course, he would never kill, no, that would go against the Queens’ wishes. And he loves his sister, of course, if the rumors are true. The Royals agree to work with each other as long as they may have their own dominion. So the King skirts around the Queens’ trivial law against murder. Torture, inevitable death, that isn’t murder. It is retribution for what the criminal has obviously done to taint the Kings’ good standing. That can never go unpunished. The torture chamber is hidden away in his palace, but if one has the right eye, one may end up descending those limestone stairs and edging towards the scent of blood and death. But even he at least acknowledges his people.
The Lord, who lives in the splendor of eternal harvest still manages to be the poorest kingdom of them all. Why is that? His cowardice. The Lord himself is elusive to the point of nonexistence. He spends his days in his room being waited on hand and foot by nobility and humans alike. An immortal being so careful and feigning such sickness is enough to make my stomach roil. He spends his days enjoying the internal world of his palace and never once has seen the light of day in recent memory. Whatever poaching his human subjects may suffer, whatever fear of death and sickness the Lord nobles themselves may have, he turns a blind eye. He can not be affected by the plague, but he would certainly hide away until it was over regardless. The only thing he could possibly care about is whether food will still appear on his plate, and whether there are any young boys left for him to fuck.
Which brings us to the Duchess. Living far, far away from the other three countries, across the Wonderland Forest and in the eternal winter that all other nobles dread, she sits at her throne and watches. She sees the stagnation, the world’s literal decay as the trees turn a sick green and the undergrowth fades to black. And she merely watches. She watches, and she waits, for the day that something will happen. That someone will come. That Alice will return, perhaps. Anyone who would invest their time in a storybook is mad. But then, aren’t we all? Mad?
I’m certainly mad, for what I am about to do.
Because here I am, about to kill them all. The Queen, the King, the Lord, perhaps even the Duchess. Kill them all, if it will destroy the stagnation that infects our precious Wonderland. All for a girl. A girl that tried to kill me.
This is my twisted story.