Once More Down the Rabbit Hole? — May 2023 Challenge Winner

[Brigand]

Part 1 of: Once More Down the Rabbit Hole?

The day was like any other day, and Desiree was trimming the plants in her father's greenhouse.

The plants had never felt any pain from Desiree's cuttings. They were tiny, delicate; prudent, even. She would take their stems in her small, childlike hands, and guide them carefully towards her chest, pressing them softly to the fine linens of her petticoat; and then, hoisting her silver scissors high, she would lightly trim the forebears. She was a talented girl. A child of sprites. She had dark blue eyes, rather luscious lashes, and a gorgeous bob of bleach blonde hair. Her outfit was simple and practical however; and she often wore great yellow galoshes on her feet. All the better to wade through the greenhouse's nocturnal garden.

For you see, Desiree was a night child. She had been born at night. Right here, in this very garden. Her mother's blood had salted the soil where the plants now stood, and their stems glowed an alien-green beneath the moonlight. And like the moon above, the girl was pale as well. She had left the greenhouse only a handful of times to visit the town-beyond-the-glass, and all her meals were delivered by her father's manservants. They — (''They'' being the plants) — were her only friends, save for Lorcan and Vaive. (Two local boys she'd grown rather fond of, but hadn't seen much of late...) And yet, she had never once complained. The plants were her friends. And so was she to them; their only saving grace amidst a Garden of Evil....

... For you see, not all plants are grown equally.

Standing in the backs of the garden were the corpse-plants. They were new, and not at all welcome. Disgusting things to the sunflowers. Hated by the hibiscus. Reviled by the roses. They all knew the truth, of course. The corpse-plants would have never been grown whilst Desiree's mother was still alive... and yet, these ugly purple brutes savaged the windows, crawling up the sides of the greenhouse, clashing out against the rafters, and taking with them the stalks and stems of the petunias, who had been unfortunate enough to have been sown beneath them.

... Yes, the corpse-plants were a very real problem. And often Desiree would be sent running by them, her petticoat clutched to her mouth to stifle their bad smell as the other botanicals looked on in fury. And what was worse? The bullies had only grown taller ever since Desiree's father had returned, absent her dearest mother. And the garden had experienced only bad years since then....

On one peculiar night in the middle of Autumn, Desiree's father had come down to see her, disturbing the girl's reading amidst the plants. He had been working on a project for a very long time, and had become a bit of a recluse. It was actually because of his magic that the plants could think and feel. Yet, as he stepped into the greenhouse, the plants recoiled.

Meanwhile, Desiree had been telling the plants the tale of Wonderland; and of the girl named Alice. All the canopies had bent their ears, their orange fronds extended, sweat dripping down their stems in anticipation. The open buds of the flowerbeds had also blossomed to listen. The weeds themselves, crawling out from the very cracks. And Desiree had sat there, kicking with her great yellow galoshes on a large wooden rocking chair, regaling them with the story of the White Rabbit. Oh, how the girl wished to leave her Father's greenhouse, the plants knew. They could see it in her face. In her childlike eyes, always pining for the moon as she sat trimming the verge. Yes, she wanted to escape this prison of glass; and the plants wanted it too. But only the corpse-plants were big enough to break the glass, and they heeded no voices but their own. And so, the flowers wilted to hear the longing in Desiree's voice, whilst also lamenting even the thought of losing her.

For then, all the garden would truly go to seed...

''For you, daughter.'' The girl's father rasped, coughing into a thin black cloth. His name was Cormier, and he was the Mayor of the town-beyond-the-glass. He had trailed through the greenhouse moments ago from the bowels of the estate, looking rather unwell. And a silver dagger hung at his side; none too lightly, either...

''Thank you, father...'' Desiree said, her voice throaty from so many years spent in the greenhouse; yet tinged with curiosity as she took the book from him. ''Oh!'' She gasped. ''The final chapter! '''Once More... Down the Rabbit Hole?''' She peered up at him.

He nodded gravely, placing a hand upon her shoulder. His eyes were full of regret. The plants watched as Desiree peered at her father, their fronds curling in the air, practically twisting on end. A rogue root felt its way through the ground and towards the man's ankles, poised as if to strike.... It was as though the garden didn't like the man.

''Father...?'' Desiree spoke, not noticing how the plants had moved to defend her. ''When can my friends come visit me again...? I would very much like to see them. To see Lorcan. And... and Vaive!''

A moment passed. Two. The plants listened. The plants whispered. Desiree's father shook his head sadly, then moved his hand from the girl's shoulder to wander her face, and she smiled up at him with affection, but seemed rather confused by his expression. ''No, Desiree.'' He said, and the dagger glinted at his side. It had slipped a little out of its sheath, all on its own. And for a moment, Desiree's eyes fell to her father's fingers rather worriedly. They were hurting....

''They can't visit you here, though I wish they could. Perhaps when you're better, love.'' And then, turning his cloak, Cormier walked away, coughing still into the black rag, the purple fumes of the corpse-plants heavy all around them.

The roots rescinded ever so slowly as Cormier walked away, slithering back into the soil. And sat upon her too-large chair, Desiree gave a sad little cough, making no effort to cover her mouth as she did it.

For a while afterwards, Desiree sat there in quiet contemplation. She clutched the final chapter of her favorite adventure rather curiously in her hands, her fingers wandering the spine — as if anxious. And then, lifting her head to the pale moonlight spilling in through the glass, she pursed her lips thoughtfully and sighed!

''Mother, when will I be free of this prison?'' She wondered aloud. And seething in their hearts, the corpse-plants stretched harder against the windows, slapping their vines against them.

''When will I be free of this prison!?'' She shouted then, tears suddenly filling her eyes. She thought of her mother. She begged her to listen. Her tears were streaming down her face now, and the corpse-plants were going mad; and so were the hibiscus, and the petunias, and the roses. All of them screaming through the soil, sending their signaled whispers. The glass of the greenhouse ached!

''When will I be like Alice!?'' She finally cried, throwing her head forward and thrusting it into the book.

And with a slew of sobs, Desiree cried and cried and cried into the pages, until the sun came up and her father's manservants came to rescue her. But by then she had already passed out on the rocking chair with the book in her hands, her little fingers spread across the page of the White Rabbit introducing himself to Alice. And as the butler came and reached beneath the girl's arms, hoisting her up to take her to bed, the deep black shadow of the hanging fronds stood above them; as if glaring, glaring down.

 

[Brigand]

Part 2 of: Once More Down the Rabbit Hole?

Desiree was having breakfast with her father. It was early morning, and her eyes were sullen and withdrawn. She had the book of Alice beside her. Her father was eating quietly, very quietly, but she had not touched a bite. The greenhouse was also quiet today. The roses had not bloomed. The petunias looked dire, their leaves a slick, dripping wet. And in fact, the whole garden smelled of lilies. It was dying. It was dying hard. And now, all the plants could do was watch; and with a deep sigh, Cormier questioned.

''... What is it, child?''

''You're waiting for me to die in here, aren't you...?'' Desiree answered softly.

It was the first time she'd said it. Cormier put down the knife and fork and raised his head to look at his daughter. She slowly met his eyes, then let out a strangled sob, forcing herself to stand up with her little fists set upon the table.

''It's true... I can see it in your face! No, Father? Tell me it's not? What, mother died, so now you must be rid of me too? Is that it? Why—? So you can focus on your horrific spells...!?''

And with a rattle, the girl slung her plate at him. It hit her father hard in the jaw and broke, but he merely sat there, looking ashamed.

''... It's true.'' He growled, head down. ''I've hated you since she passed. The sight of you. The—'' Cormier lowered his head even further, shaking it from side to side. ''It's your hair. And your voice. And your moods—'' His voice broke mid-sentence, he sounded like he was in agony just talking about it. And with a lurch, he quickly stood up.

''You remind me too much of her!'' He snarled, and the table fell apart as he slung himself away from it.

Desiree sat with her arms around her knees, sobbing on the floor. She had collapsed. Cormier stood apart from her, on the other side of the wreck. They would not face each other; and all around them, the dying garden and the poison of the corpse-plants slowly crept into their lungs. The plants were trying so very desperately to reach out for Cormier, but they could not. They were too weak. And Desiree gave a little cough, and then held her hands to her face desperately.

''If you knew... if you knew it would get so bad, why did you not send me away? I could have gone to the capital. To visit Uncle. Why must you keep me here...?''

''... Because if you go away, then they'll come; the townspeople, with their curiosity, and their gossip, and I'll no longer have an excuse for being here all the time. If that happens, I will never get satisfaction for what they did to your mother. I need more time, girl.'' Cormier muttered, his shoulders sagging as he stood there beneath the fronds, his eyes very dark as he stared at the dying roses, wilting all around him.

''But if I die...'' She whispered, sounding very afraid. ''Won't it be the same?''

Cormier slowly closed his eyes, then whispered.

''Your death... would sicken me, at least... for a while. But knowing what I now know? Your death would not be the end.''

And raising his hand, the plants suddenly stiffened. The petunias grew darker, more lively as Cormier's magic passed through them. The roses bent and blossomed. The corpse plants suddenly gasped, exhaling fumes. And even the sunflowers became a glory to behold, their petals shining brightly. For a moment, they had the power to bring him down; and their roots hastened to do it. But suddenly, with an aching, arching gasp, the entire greenhouse seemed to cry out in agony as Cormier's death magic grew unstable. The man's eyes were glowing with fel taint. His fingers, wrapped in a skeletal coil. It was like the plants had begun to spasm. They couldn't hold it, they realized. They could no longer fight the power he possessed....

''What are you doing, Father!?'' Desiree screamed. "Those are the plants mother sowed!"

And weeping loudly, Desiree shuffled on her knees across the wet ground, reaching out for one of the roses protectively. The stem immediately snapped off in her fingers, making her gasp. And she saw that the stem was now filled with black tar, which dripped across her pale fingers.... And with a little glance, she blinked at her father and swallowed out of fear.

Cormier stared down at her, something horrid in his eyes; and then clamped his fingers shut and turned to leave.

''Go nowhere, child.'' He told her as he left. ''... I am so very close to doing what I promised you and your mother, you have no idea...''

"But she's dead! She's dead, father! And you can't bring her back!" Desiree called after him, sighing miserably.

And sat alone, Desiree held the wilted rose to her chest, her eyes at a loss; her hope abandoned. Her glass home had become her glass cage, and now: a glass tomb. She would never leave. Her mother would never return. And her father... was a necromancer, who was willing... no, who would stop at nothing in the pursuit of revenge.

The greenhouse shuddered. The plants, most of them now laying flat and wilted on their sides, felt as if they had just been crushed. And reaching into the shallow wreck of the table, Desiree took out Alice, and then quickly ran off into the depths of the greenhouse, disappearing from sight.

''White Rabbit!'' She called from within, the plants sighing, looking exhausted; though, they yet yearned to help her. And so, they quickly gathered themselves in a last effort to do so. They would hide her. They would keep her. At least until help came.

''White Rabbit...!'' The girl called. ''Where are you!?''

 

[Brigand]

Part 3 of: Once More Down the Rabbit Hole?

Hours passed, and Cormier's manservants could not find the girl anywhere. A house-wide alert had started. They were all told to check the greenhouse, the basements, the upper floors, and even Desiree's mother's study, which had been locked off for the past year. But no matter where they searched... Desiree could not be found.

But the plants knew.

The plants were keeping her safe, alongside the White Rabbit.

* * *

Desiree rushed through the garden, running for her life.

The tails of her petticoat had torn. One of her galoshes, lost. She was running at full speed, splashing through weeping fronds, tearing aside gigantic stalks. She was desperately searching! Searching for the White Rabbit!

''Where are you? I know you're out there. You must come to see me, you must!'' She begged, her voice clogged with misery. She skidded to a halt in the middle of a large clearing. The greenhouse seemed truly enormous now; an absolute jungle. Or perhaps it was simply the girl's size. Meanwhile the plants watched with sadness, pining for the young girl. She was close now. So close, they felt more miserable than ever that she had been unable to find what she was searching for.

''Please, Mister. Rabbit. Please.'' Desiree was begging, turning on the spot, her eyes as wide as saucers as she glanced between the fronds. Then, spotting something moving inside the brush, she quickly darted towards it.

The chase began again. She rushed through the jungle, pelted by thorns. Red scrapes were appearing on her cheeks, but she was too panicked to notice. And around another bend, she saw another glimpse of it; and went rushing, rushing towards it.

A hollow pang rang out as Desiree banged into the glass. And with a short, hopeless scream, she realized she'd been seeing her own reflection in the greenhouse glass.

''No...!'' She cried out. ''No, no, no. I saw him! I saw the White Rabbit. Oh please, oh please... please.'' She begged, sliding down the glass, hammering it with her fists. Never had she felt so hopeless. Her father's confession had struck her. She wanted nothing but to escape this nightmare. And crumpling to the floor, the girl went to cover her head, truly at a loss for what to do; and all the plants wept when they saw her agony.

But then a little tap on the window made Desiree look up. And the girl sniffled as she reached for her nose to wipe it clean.

''L... Lorcan?'' Desiree whispered.

Stood beyond the glass was a young, redheaded boy. He was peering at her in concern. He had a sword at his side, a great big one; like from the stories! And a red cape, fastened around his neck. He was one of her friends. One of her friends who used to visit before mother died. But how did he get here? He was standing in her father's garden, and he hadn't come alone! Stood behind him was Vaive, the gypsy boy from down the lane; they were both here! For real...! To rescue her? She wondered, standing up at once.

''What are you doing here?'' She called through the glass, sounding concerned. Her eyes however pined to see them. She was so glad she placed her fingers to the glass as if to touch them both.

''Desiree!'' They called, pointing down the way from them. And she looked around and realized they were pointing at the greenhouse door. ''Open the door! John Barbour sent us! He think's there's something wrong with your Dad!''

She nodded her head frantically, practically hopping to reach the door in question. She stumbled over vines, fell across patches of petunias; the girl would be sodden by the time she reached it, but she didn't care. There was something wrong with her father... something very wrong, and she knew she had to tell them everything. Yet all around her, the plants were shaking their heads. They were trying to whisper, to snag her short little legs. Don't open it... They wanted to say. Don't open it, your Father will know. But the girl was still stricken. And as her hand fell around the latch, she foolishly pulled at the handle.

But it did not open. It was locked.

''No...!'' Desiree breathed, looking appalled. She quickly hugged herself against the handle, jamming on it with all her might. But the door would not budge. Lorcan and Vaive stood behind it through the glass, looking anxious. They both started to scout the windows instead. Why didn't they just break the glass? Desiree wondered, slapping at her shoulders. The plants were all over her for some reason. It was like the fronds had grown closer. She looked back at them distractedly, wondering if — but just then, she heard a voice from the back of the greenhouse.

''Desiree!'' A strict voice called. ''Desiree, girl!? Where are you!? Come out this instant!''

Desiree shrank. It was her father, she knew. And that meant he had tired of sending his manservants to find her. Any moment now, he would come crashing through the jungle himself. And swallowing, Desiree quickly turned back to the glass and started to bang on it.

''Lorcan...! Vaive! Break the glass!'' She screamed, pointing furiously at the windows.

But the boys tilted their heads. They looked very worried, as if they thought they might get into trouble. And quickly, Lorcan stepped forwards and said something loudly to the window. Desiree had to cock her head to listen. She could only just about hear him over the ruckus of her father trampling through the garden behind her.

''Won't your Dad get mad at us?" Lorcan was saying. "We were only sent to check on—''

''BREAK THE GLASS!'' She screamed, her voice ripping through her lungs.

Both Lorcan and Vaive jumped. And glancing at each other, the boys hesitantly reached for their weapons. But by then it was too late. With a staggering crash, her father came lunging out through the jungle, and stood there staring at her; his dark eyes swiftly assessing the situation as all the greenhouse seemed to writhe uncomfortably around him.

''... Get away from the door, girl.'' Her father whispered.

''No...'' Desiree sobbed, turning her back on the glass. She could no longer see Lorcan and Vaive. All she dreaded was there; represented in her father. And she was tempted to run. She saw an opening behind him... an opening in the plants. It was as big as a rabbit hole, as if the the garden itself was offering it to her. And it certainly hadn't been there before. And she was even small enough to fit through it. All she had to do was reach it unscathed...

''Oi! Leave her alone!'' Lorcan yelled through the glass, banging with his fist. Quickly, Vaive started jamming on the door handle as well, trying to break the lock. The boys could hear the terror in Desiree's voice; and had abandoned their uncertainty altogether. Now they knew that something was wrong.

''... Do as I say.'' Cormier uttered, stepping forwards. His cloak rippled; and a silver dagger slipped into his palm from out of nowhere.

With a tremor, Desiree ducked beneath her father's hand as he lunged towards her, and running for the opening, she threw herself face-first into the rabbit hole.

The world faded away, and Desiree gasped at the tightness of it all. She had fallen into the hole, fallen right through it, and was now sliding. Sliding down a deep and dark and very infinite tunnel, away from her father... away from everything, her skirt rippling around her knees as she quickly moved to hold it down. Her face lit up into a frightful scream; her eyes went wide wide as her hair lifted upwards on her head. And suddenly, she shot out from the tunnel; and felt herself becoming weightless.

''We're late!'' A voice called in the dark as Desiree floated there, spinning.

''Where am I!?'' She screamed, unable to see Vaive. Unable to see Lorcan. Unable to see anyone! She could only see her arms and legs, turning around in midair!

''We're late! We're late! For a very important date!'' The voice called again.

And blinking her eyes, young Desiree stared in surprise as a tall, very important-looking figure came hopping towards her from out of the dark. He was holding a stopwatch in one hand and wore a red petticoat, very much like her own. He also had big white whiskers... and the most gigantic ears.

''The White Rabbit.'' Desiree muttered, before rolling her eyes and passing out entirely.

 

[Brigand]

Part 4 of: Once More Down the Rabbit Hole?

Lorcan and Vaive breathed fire as they ran all the way back to Blackberry Hill. Lorcan's face was a blanket of sweat, and Vaive wasn't fairing much better. The boys were a pair of opposites; one was a dusky, honey-coloured brown; the other, a bright-haired, pale-faced ginger. Yet despite their differences, they shared one thing in common: they both looked terrified.

''John! John! John!'' They yelled as they barged their way in through the Guild Hall doors. An entire roomful of Slayers looked around to peer at them. A few men even snorted, looking annoyed. And at the head table, John Barbour, the Guild Quartermaster, lazily stood up; a dragon's head mounted on the wall behind him.

''Arr! Now lads...? There'll be none of that. Good graces only in this 'ere Guild tavern.'' He chortled, not yet realizing the depth of their concerns. The man then looked at them longly, and after a moment, he questioned: ''... What's gone on?''

''It's Cormier... Mister Cormier. The Mayor... John... he's a fucking mad one. Pulled a knife on his own daughter. Got her locked up in a conservatory, he has. Whole place is full of black fungus and fog. We tried to break in, but he cast spells, John! He cast spells and ran us off! We reckon he's the madhead who's been starting all the trouble in town!''

And with that, several Slayers stood up and started yelling. ''We told you, John!'' They bellowed, sounding maddened. ''It's that fucking Mayor, didn't we say? Lazy bastard! Siphoning the town's funds! Nicking it all for whatever magical shite he's up to in that old house!''

John stood there and lifted his hands, telling them all to calm down. And Lorcan and Vaive waited anxiously, the boy-Slayers fidgeting with their spears. And after a moment, John came around the head table, peering at them both.

''Now then, lads... are you sure o' this?'' John questioned.

''We're sure, John.'' Lorcan mumbled, nodding softly. And Vaive did the same, looking determined. The boys were trickling with sweat from the fear in their bellies, and it was clear to see.

''Well,'' John said, as if there was nothing else for it. And walking over to the racks on the walls, he slid a bludgeon over his shoulder and took out an old, battered buckler painted with a bear's head.

''Tiernan.... Mister Farrow. Best you boys get geared-up, aye?'' John said, looking at the two foremost Slayers. At once, the two men stood up from the dining table to fetch their weapons. They came back moments later, carting crossbows and black iron rifles; and filed in with John as he led the way, with a whole pack of angry Slayers at his back. Lorcan and Vaive had to move aside for the angry formation, but the boys quickly hurried after them all, with Lorcan yelling—

''John! Where're we off?'' The red-headed boy questioned, thinking of Desiree, all alone in that house...

''To kill the Mayor, boy...! What else?'' John grunted, to a wicked chortle from Mister Farrow. The crossbowman was drawing his crossbow on the guild steps, and with a wolfish stride, he loped to catch up with them.

And swallowing his fear, Lorcan followed after them with Vaive at his side. The dark-skinned boy looked as worried as he did. But nonetheless, they were both adamant about saving Desiree.

''We're coming, Desiree.'' Lorcan muttered, hoisting his spear. And The Slayers were now howling a song.

''Together we'll beat them back!
Our bonny men in arms!
Are up and on the attack!
No cowards, no heroes, just good friends of mine!

No time for heroes, pretenders, or fools!
Only the brave prevail!

The rest can die in unmarked graves;
Like a man we once knew!

A coward through and through!
A coward through and through...!''

 

[Brigand]

Part 5 of: Once More Down the Rabbit Hole?

The plants were whispering. They knew something was wrong. That something was going... wrong. They felt it. They felt it in their roots, spread out across the lawn, deep into the fecund earth... they felt it. Someone was coming. Someone was coming.

And deep beneath the ground, they hid her; along with the White Rabbit....

Their stomps came first, marking them as enemies. The gate to Cormier's estate stood six feet high, but the shield-breakers came up with their tools, clashing, banging, soldering the irons from their sockets; and with a mighty sway, the men from the town-beyond-the-glass gripped the steel gate and brought it crashing down. And then they came, trampling across the lawn, making their way up the drive. And even though they didn't want to... they attacked.

Yells broke out across the yard. ''What is it?'' The red-cloaked Slayers were saying. ''What the fuck is it...!?'' To the sounds of screams. The corpse plants were breathing hard against the windows of the greenhouse, which suddenly shattered; and out from the windows they climbed, slamming into the fetund earth as they wormed their way towards the invaders.

''It's the plants, John! They're fighting back...!''

''Formations, lads! Light the torches! Give 'em fire!''

And so it went. With a cindering spark, fires broke out across the Mayor's yard, and men wrapped in deep red cloaks smoked the air with lashes of their torches. The vines and shrubbery set alight; and the plants screamed. The plants did not know what was happening. They did not know why they were fighting. But deep inside the house, hidden behind walls of ivy, Michael Cormier played a wailing piano. The windows on the house were expanding along with the music; and suddenly, they too shattered; and the sky crashed with lightning. And deep in the garden, skirting along the sides, two brave young boys were making their way towards the greenhouse, undeterred.

''Lorcan...'' Vaive was whispering, his head bobbing above the hedgerow. ''What the fuck is happening...?''

''It's Cormier, Vaive.'' Lorcan breathed, gripping his father's sword desperately at his side. ''He's making all the plants come alive 'cause he don't want us getting inside.''

And watching a stroke of fire burst across the yard, just above where the Slayers were fighting, Vaive gave a small nod. Then rushing after Lorcan, the gypsy kept up; and kept his head down from then on.

The two boys managed to sidewind the garden, avoiding any and all foes — even though there were scores of corpse-plants lashing out against the Slayers — and soon came up on the conservatory. They found it, unlike last time, wide open; and looking at one another, they nodded and hurried their way inside, scurrying like mice in the dark....

The plants felt two mice making their way inside the conservatory. Curious, they thought. And though they were thoroughly exhausted, the petunias stopped to examine the mice as they scurried by, like two guerrillas in the brush. The roses peered at them next, budding to take a glance; and they also thought the mice very curious. Perhaps friends of the White Rabbit? And then, lastly, the sunflowers lifted their heads to take a peek. And the sunflowers knew immediately, as the mice struggled with the door to the estate, hidden deep-yet-found, that the little mice were not little mice at all; but were good friends of Desiree. And at once, the plants opened the way for them.

''... Lorcan.'' Vaive uttered to his friend, who now stood wrestling with the locked door of Cormier's estate. They had made their way through the greenhouse undeterred, but had seen neither heads nor tails of Desiree; and now seemed unlikely to get much farther. But as Vaive spoke, Lorcan looked around.

''What, Vaive?'' Lorcan whispered, seeming stressed. He likely thought they could be caught by Cormier at any moment.

''... Look.'' Vaive said, pointing at something in the brush.

Pausing, Lorcan pursed his lips and looked around. Because it was true. There was something there. And curiously, Lorcan walked up and pulled the plants aside to look at it.

A deep, dark hole led into the earth. A deep, dark hole leading to what, the boys wondered? And glancing at each other, Lorcan and Vaive sighed, before lifting their spears and getting down to crawl into the hole.

''Watch our backs...'' Lorcan muttered, thinking (in all likelihood) that this was a shit idea.

''Right...'' Vaive answered, going in after him.

And quietly, the plants watched... while outside the estate, they were forced to kill themselves in droves.

* * *

The dark, unending hole did actually have an end, the boys soon discovered. Lorcan and Vaive came out into a narrow shaft some minutes later. And though it was very deep, and they found themselves wondering how it had even come to be, they did at least have room to stand up. The plants watched all the while, their roots skimming the walls of these tunnels for miles; and keeping the girl close at hand, they waited to see if the boys were truly friends of Desiree before doing anything.

''Fucking pitch black, isn't it? Do you still have that torch John gave us? Can you even light it?'' The dark-skinned one was asking, sounding a little scared.

''Yeah, yeah, give me a minute...'' The redhead said; and suddenly, the boy struck a match.

The roots in the walls rippled with anger as the boys breathed fire. The boys immediately jumped and looked around, lashing out with the torch they'd lit; and a girl's voice cut through the madness—

''No fire! You'll scare The White Rabbit!''

Blinking, the boys quickly stepped forward to see who'd spoken. And then they found her, tucked into a corner, looking absolutely worse for wear....

It was Desiree. The plants had kept her, but they could not preserve her. She was paler than ever, her once-perfect garb now crusty with mud. It looked like she'd been down here for hours. Her face looked very ill, feverish, even; and in her arms, she hugged a dirty-white doll. It had one ear flopped across its face, one eye, and a mishmash mouth that had clearly been torn as she'd crawled through the hole. The doll had perhaps once been white, but now it was so dirty it looked more brown than anything; and with a frown of confusion, Lorcan looked at Vaive.

''Help me get her out of here....'' He whispered. And Vaive nodded.

Together, the boys came up on Desiree; but she quickly shrunk back into the wall, her eyes filling with fear. And then something curious happened. The White Rabbit seemed to sit up in her arms, and turning its head towards them; it's single eye started to glow. And with a breathy little scream, Desiree suddenly shut her eyes and let out a word of power.

Lorcan and Vaive tilted backwards in slow motion, and then with a sound like an echo-blast, the entire tunnel rippled with sound as the boys went flying.

The rabbit hole spat mud as the spell made its way into the greenhouse, and the remaining windows abruptly shattered. As glass rained, deep inside the mansion, Michael Cormier raised his head from the piano, and then whispered as his hands fell from the keys.

''Desiree...?''

Abruptly, the man stood up and reached for a knife, unsheathing it as he ran towards the stairs.

* * *

 

[Brigand]

Part 6 of: Once More Down the Rabbit Hole?

It was over.... They had failed.

The plants lay like fallen soldiers across the yard. A hundred corpse-plants, ripped open to the last shell. In the greenhouse they lay wilted too. The sunflowers, downed. The petunias, crushed. The roses ripped apart by glass. Not one flower remained standing. It was a wasteland where everything dripped dew; the tears of the fallen.

We're sorry, Desiree. They whispered. ''I'm'' sorry....

A dark figure appeared at the backdoor of the estate, and then the door crept open.

Michael Cormier stepped into the conservatory, wielding a knife. He saw two bodies in the brush. A ginger-haired boy and his dark-skinned friend, and he stopped to check they weren't moving from afar; before pulling at the flowerbed, searching for something.

''Desiree!'' He called, sounding angered, but also concerned. ''Desiree!?''

There was a movement in the brush, and Cormier stopped to look at it.

Stay away from her...! The plants whispered. And suddenly, Cormier came charging forwards, tearing at the long grass.

Desiree let out a squeak as she stared up at her father, unveiled. She held the White Rabbit in her arms. She was also sitting in a patch of dead flowers, the fallen soldiers having sacrificed themselves all around her; and she was sniffling, with mud smeared across her face and a bloodied lip.

''Desiree—''

''.... Go away!'' She screeched, and the air rippled around her.

With a grunt, Cormier staggered as a wave of energy passed over him. It was not so powerful that it could knock him off his feet, but powerful enough to take him by surprise. And the man stumbled over a root on the ground, falling to his knees.

''Damn it, girl... I'm your father!? And you'll come if I say!?''

And with a lurch, Cormier thrust out a hand and cast a spell.

Desiree sat sobbing, clinging to The White Rabbit as the long grass turned black and sickly around her. Yet the girl could not be touched by the death magic. Something was protecting her. And the doll was glowing from one eye in her arms; and all of a sudden, the backdoor of the estate came crashing open, and a number of men came barging through. Red-cloaked Slayers, with John Barbour at their head. They saw what was happening — and the bodies of Lorcan and Vaive on the floor — and charged.

''No...!'' Cormier yelled, spotting them over his shoulder. ''You will not interrupt, I've worked too long for this!?'' Cormier growled, standing on one knee to throw his magic to the side as well.

At once, the whole greenhouse came to a standstill. The Slayers were paralyzed to a man, trapped in a web of dark energy as Cormier struggled to stand. He was frothing at the mouth, his eyes maddened, his face riddled with veins. And spitting up the words from his core, he turned his head back towards his daughter.

''Desiree...! Come here, now. Come to your father... or else.''

''No!'' She shook her head, clinging to the White Rabbit. And all of a sudden, the rabbit did something incredible. It turned and reached for her hands... and then pulled them gently apart.

''John... the rabbit.'' One of the Slayers uttered, and John Barbour — tangled in a necromantic web — stopped and blinked as he looked at the girl.

Cormier was watching too in awe. The White Rabbit had clambered down from Desiree's arms, and was stumbling across the greenhouse towards him. The doll had an awkward, clumsy way of walking, as if possessed; and then, standing before Cormier, the doll looked up at him with a single eye, as if glaring up at the man.

''Michael!'' The plants said, their voice filling the greenhouse. This voice was a soft one. A gentle one. And it belonged, beyond a shadow of a doubt, to a woman.

''... Stop!?''

''Stop and look around you! Look at what you've done... don't you remember what this used to be? We used to have parties here... you and I. Me and your daughter! You would play piano for us and we'd sip ginger ale together. Don't you remember that? Don't you remember your daughter!?''

Michael, holding onto the spell that bound the Slayers, looked stricken. He shook his head slowly, whispering back.

''What is this...?''

''It's me, Michael. It's Loraine. This was MY garden, where I give birth to OUR child. My blood salted the earth. Or have you forgotten that as well!? ... Now listen to me. I am not coming back. So you have to stop. ... You MUST stop.''

''I can't.'' Cormier whispered, closing his eyes; his whole body shaking from the spell. ''I can't. It's too late.'' He said, tears running from his eyes. And with a final sort of look, he tried harder to ensnare Desiree. The girl was sobbing loudly, the long grass around her melted away. All that was left of the plants was a black patch of runny tar, which the girl was slowly sinking in up to her waist.

''Then so be it.'' The voice said. '' ... I love you, Michael. But you're lost. And I can't let you harm our DAUGHTER!''

And with a scream, The White Rabbit leapt up into Cormier's arms; and threw its arms around his neck.

It was as if the world had been sundered. A ripple went through the conservatory, and all the Slayers buckled. Desiree closed her eyes in the shrub and threw herself face-first on the ground. Immediately, roots shot up from the earth like snakes, causing the entire conservatory to let out an aching groan as the foundations ruptured; and Cormier cried out as the roots pulled at his limbs. He had one hand on Desiree's spell, the other on the Slayers; and trapped between them like a man tied to a sinking ship, the roots began to pull him down. They dragged him down until his limbs snapped and his head disappeared beneath the ground with the White Rabbit still clinging to his neck, until there was nothing left of the man but the silver dagger on the floor and the black handkerchief from his coat pocket, which now lay there, dotted with blood.

With a groan, a boy lifted his head from a pile of rubble. It was Lorcan. The conservatory was in ruins all around him. The beams had fallen, the glass shattered, and there wasn't a single plant left standing. After a moment, a second boy appeared from yet another pile; and Vaive shook his head from side to side, looking exhausted.

''Is he dead...?'' Lorcan asked.

''Yeah... he's dead.'' Vaive answered, pushing himself out of the rubble to look for Desiree.

The boys found Desiree hidden in the brush, as the Slayers unearthed themselves from the ruins of the conservatory. Desiree allowed herself to be picked up by Vaive, sobbing into his shoulder as Lorcan stood protectively around her. And John Barbour, who was matted with dust after the conservatory's collapse, waved a hand towards the house.

''Search the fuckin' place.'' He coughed. ''An' someone pass me a drink.'' He smattered, snatching a flask from Farrow as he came in with the offer. The Quartermaster drank deeply, then sat on a broken table in the middle of the greenhouse as they all gathered to listen to Desiree's story. The young girl looked distraught from losing her father, but she also looked eager to be rid of the words she had to say.

''My Dad's been... keeping me here. I got tired of it. I heard voices. So I went underground... the plants... they talked to me, told me to keep hidden, that it would keep me safe. That's w-when I found my mother's r-rabbit.'' She said, sniffling; tears running down her face. She looked very upset, and no doubt why, the girl had lost her mother and her father, leaving her orphaned.

John nodded, the big fellow bringing the girl in for a close hug. She held herself to the man, disappearing into his beard. And Vaive and Lorcan stood around, looking quite upset.

''John.'' Tiernan came stumbling into the conservatory after a while, the legendary Slayer looking very worried. ''You should come see this. It's Cormier's study. It's filled with notes. necromancy, John. He was practicing necromancy. And there's bodies, shackled up in the basement; and arms and armour, just waiting in the halls. The whole place has been built up like a barracks. I think he was planning an attack.''

''Blasted—'' John cursed, gesturing them all up. ''Evacuate the house! Torch it to the ground!'' He ordered, leading the way. At once, Lorcan and Vaive picked up their spears to follow; and all the Slayers fell into formation as they led Desiree out of the estate. The young girl sat in the bulk of John's bicep, straddling his forearm. And she now looked unusually determined as she let out another sniffle.

They all left the house that night, having built fires beneath the foundations. Cormier's estate burned for three days after that. Three days of smoke and terror. Word spread quickly that the Mayor had been practicing necromancy in the house, and the rumour was, he was using his daughter as a conduit in an effort to bring back the soul of his dead wife. The man had not, however, succeeded; due to the combined efforts of the Slayers and that of two initiates, a Casteless boy named Lorcan, and a gypsy named Vaive; who received their first Slayer's Marks for their bravery and—

''Relentless compassion in the face of fuckin' danger!'' John Barbour cheered, lifting his flagon.

The Slayer's Guild roared their approval. Lorcan and Vaive were standing on the dining table in the middle of the guild hall, the trophy head of the dragon mounted on the wall at their backs. They were grinning as all the guild had turned out to cheer them on, as gangs of Slayers patted their skirts. Desiree sat across from them, looking very shy, but also quite happy. Her fever had cleared up and she was now wearing a guild robe. John Barbour sat down at the head table, his flagon still lofted as he winked the boy's way. And looking at Desiree, he winked at her too; for it was likely she'd soon become a Slayer herself, what with all that talent of hers. And the girl smiled back at him shyly, then lifted the book of Alice, happy that she could finally finish her story.

... Aye, it was a grand turnout in the end; just another adventure of The Slayer's Guild, and of a girl named Desiree.

THE END.