His brows gathered. “Are you leaving?”
“I do not enjoy sleeping above land. I will dig a hole just there,” she pointed to a small knoll surrounded by moss and snoring lily of the valleys. “I always wake at sunrise, would you like me to wake you?”
He nodded and feeling more awkward than ever, she walked off, very aware of his gaze burning a hot hole through the back of her skull.
Stalking off, skin feeling itchy, she set about digging a quick hole. Transforming her hands into predatory paws with wickedly curved claws. In moments she had a basic, and not too deep hole. But it was good enough.
Sighing with relief as she once again became the form she felt most comfortable in, she slid into the land and closed her eyes.
Wonderland trembled as it took her in.
No. No. No. Chrysalis shook her head, watching from behind the safety of a popcorn bush at the man lying on the ground.
“You must go to him. You must kill him, little one. You know you must. He’s come to destroy you… Destroy us.”
The voice inside was so loud tonight. So insistent. She hugged her shoulder, cringing with each inhalation of breath. The fight from earlier had bruised, already the wound was sealed, she healed quickly. But that didn’t stop the ache inside, outside, around and around and around…
“Go to him,” the voice whispered louder, like a gnat buzzing in her ear. Chrysalis swallowed hard, bit down on the corner of her lip, and fought the urge, the drive, to walk out of her copse to him.
He was a big man, brawny, and strong. She’d felt the strength of his fingers as they’d curled around her neck, but she’d also felt his restraint, the hesitance he’d felt in ending her life.
Why? Why? Why? She grabbed her skull, squeezing her eyes shut as the voice continued to drive out sanity and reason.
“It’s a lie. He’s deceiving you, do not fall for it. He’s lulled you into believing he’s not here to harm you, you know he is. They’ve turned against us. The only way to stay safe is to—”
“NO!” she screamed with a voice grown hoarse from disuse.
The man jerked, shot up from his bed of skins and peered into the darkness. She licked her lips. She saw him. She knew he could not see her. No one could, not if she didn’t want them too.
Her fingers curled around the branches so hard their roughened edges punctured her palms. But it didn’t matter. Nothing mattered. Not anymore. Not since the moon stole her soul.
But tonight it wasn’t full, tonight it could only whisper, could only cajole, could only seduce.
The lure was strong, he was so close. She could end it, end him. Kill the cannibalistic sanity that frayed her nerves raw. It would be so easy to give in, to become the creature they all assumed her to be.
So. So. Easy.
An owl hooted. The forest was alive. She wasn’t mad. Not just yet.
“Not tonight, not tonight, not tonight,” she muttered in sing-song under her breath. Tonight she was Chrysalis, tonight she was in charge. Releasing the branches she twirled on her heel and ran toward the pool.
Her pool. The place where her face came, where reflection could vocalize, not just speak in her head. Told her what to do. Who to be.
It wasn’t far, just over the ridge. Hidden behind a forget me bush. But only the sane could forget, the insane remembered everything.
Which was very likely why the insane always appeared to be so wrong. Too many thoughts flooding a weak mind, too many memories and stories, and people and places and thoughts and thoughts and thoughts and so many. Too many. Too many.
She shook her head, feeling herself slipping down the rabbit hole. Clawing her muddied reason to the top of all the noise was difficult, but she finally managed.
The forget me bush’s leaves sparkled with threads of silvery-blue. The moon had kissed this place. Fashioned it just for her. This was where the moon spoke to her, showed her truths and lies and made her determine which was which. She wasn’t very good at getting it right she feared.
The bush was as much a predator as anything else in Wonderland. One touch of flesh to leaves and it absorbed memories. That was what nourished it, fed it for days or years, depending on the strength of the memory.
She smiled as she brushed her hand atop its satiny leaves and a current of power bolted through her. Chrysalis never cared to lose memories, she had too many, most of them false anyway. Anytime she brushed it, she felt calmer. More at peace, not quite so overwhelmed. It would be too easy to stand here and let it take, let the parasite suck her dry, but the moon called…
Walking behind the overgrown hedge, she fell to her knees upon the thick carpet of moss and peered into the inkwell of silvery dappled water.
The darkness inside spread to infinity. Or so it seemed to her.