So I have been reading Alice in Wonderland recently and just thought when I was bored at work, fuck it. why not do a bit of my own take on it? So here you go. as always, unedited.
Slowly and cautiously you open up the small wooden door and, down on all fours, you crawl through it. As you reach through the doorway you can feel grass under our fingers and the light breeze that wafts through brings with it a myriad of sweet smells that drive you on to crawl through the small opening. Even at a crawl it is a squeeze to fit through the doorway and the further through it you go the smaller it seems to be until finally you pull your heel painfully through it and turn to see that what was once a doorway is now nothing more than a knot on a tree no bigger than a pool ball. Ignoring the curiosity that was how you have just crawled through a door that turned out to be a tree you decide that it would be best to decide where upon you were rather than how you thought you got there.
Looking around you discover yourself to have emerged in a bizarre and expansive forest. The sun shines down from above, floating through the trees and illuminating their foliage and making it almost glimmer in shades of green and red, orange blue purple and every other colour you can think of. In fact some for the trees didn’t seem satisfied to be just one colour at all and each branch seemed to be a different colour like an art exhibition that had been created by a committee.
Still more curious was the fact that the trees were so built up and crowded together that they formed a seemingly solid wall of wood that was completely unpassable with the exception of what seemed like a purposely made path of clear grass that lead to the tree from which you had just emerged and nowhere else. Still with no obvious way back that left you with only one way to go so you start to follow the path through the trees.
The path beneath your feet was oddly springy, as if walking across a trampoline and each step bounces you along and you realise this must be what people mean when they say they have a spring in their step. As an experiment you jump but the floor when you land seems no less resilient and you merely bounce back as if you had just taken a normal step, a feeling that was rather disconcerting given how you had expected it to react. Rather than following on with that you concentrate instead on the sweet and somehow warm smell that was still drifting along in the breeze and getting stronger as you followed the pathway.
It was the smell of sugar for sure, almost like a fairground stall or perhaps the bakery when they have just taken a fresh load of pastries out the ovens. It was intoxicating and the more intense the smell the faster you walk until you turn a corner of the makeshift path and emerge in a clearing with a table set up in the middle. The table is covered with a bright purple tablecloth and a spread of the most amazing looking food you have ever seen. There are pastries and buns dripping with icing yes but also pies still steaming warm and jelly that was wobbling on its plate seemingly of its own accord. Pails of ice cream add to the compliment while a gigantic teapot takes makes the centrepiece with steam flowing from the spout.
It is a sight to behold and the whole clearing is surrounded by huge mushroom talks with bright blue cap with yellow polka dots so bright they almost glow and wrapped around there mushrooms and descending low over the table are lines of silky white bunting with bright and multi-coloured flags hanging down from the strings. Entering the clearing you duck low under several lines of bunting and settle yourself into an armchair that sits at the head of the table. You there is a plate sat before you with everything you would have grabbed to eat and like a starving animal you tuck into it. The sponge cakes are the softest you have ever experienced with jam that runs down your throat and the cherries onto of Belgian buns are the richest perhaps in the whole world. Unable to stop yourself you dive hands first into the nearest pail of ice cream and the chocolate is sweet, rich and milky as it melts in your hands, never too cold.
You gorge yourself until you feel you can eat no more, slumping back in the chair satisfied and feeling the greatest sense of satisfaction. On the verge of napping you look up and see the bunting, fascinating from the way the sun is shining through the plastic flags the light is coloured, raining down on you like through a stained glass window and you trail your eyes along the string until it meets another one, changing to follow that line instead you marvel at the intricate pattern that has been made by all the lines of bunting as they crisscross each other until curiously they all come together to lower to the ground and underneath the cap of a huge mushroom that curiously seems to have no stalk.
Getting up reluctantly from your seat you follow the bunting strings to the mushroom, kneeling to try and get a peek underneath the cap but it is too low down. Curiosity takes you and you grab the bunting strings and give them a small tug. They have very little give in them and you are surprised to find they are actually incredibly taught. You decide that it isn’t a mystery worth following and try to go back to the table for some moor food but the bunting is stuck to your hand. Very stuck. In fact you can’t even open your hand, it’s as if all your fingers have been glued together. You try and pull away from the bunting, leaning back in the grass as you pull against the sticky string and to your horror after a few hard tugs on the string, the string tugs back.
With incredible strength you are pulled forward, losing your footing and crashing down on your belly in the grass there is a pause where you are trying to make sense of what is happening before you are pulled forward through the grass towards the mushroom cap. In a moment of madness you can only think about how you are going to get the grass stains out of your clothes before you are brought back to your predicament by the mushroom cap flipping back and opening up like a huge lid and exposing a deep black hole beneath.
You try to get to your feet and dig your heels into the ground but the force that is pulling you forward just drags you along regardless and you leave three deep gouges in the ground behind you where you heels and your one free hand have sunk deep into the ground, pulling up the emerald grass and revealing deep red soil beneath.
Desperately you look around for anything that could help you and you see he table sinking away from you as your legs descend into the hole. For a moment you see a glint of something metal on the table, a knife for cake cutting but it is far too late for that as your backside drops away into the hole. Looking down you see that the drop is deep with tree roots sticking from the side and the glistening line of bunting disappearing into the dark. But at the bottom of the hole there is movement and something shiny glints up at you. Eight somethings.
As you slide deeper into the hole, dragged by the bunting from which you can’t let go, you manage to reach out and grab a sturdy tree root, temporarily stopping your descent though the pain that tears up your arm is intense and for a moment you could believe that it is about to be torn from the socket. And then there is a voice that filters up the hole towards you. Cold and menacing it is like nails on a chalk board and your blood curdles at the sound off it.
‘Oh don’t fight, you know it’s hopeless. You’re not my first choice of meal but you know we all have to eat.’
You want to scream but you can’t the sounds just don’t come out right and all you can do is gurgle in fear as your arm is once again tugged on. And then whatever it is that spoke moves again, slowly but surely dragging itself up the tunnel towards you. Two long appendages thicker than your arm stretch up out of the darkness towards you with small forked ends to their legs that latch into the red soil and then pull the rest of the creature they belong to forward. These limbs are covered in thick spine like hairs and as the creature below you looms towards toy you see the glistening was eight black round eyes that all stare up at you as the body of the spider comes into view. Its dark brown body filling the entire width of the tunnel and the bunting disappearing beneath it, fed along buy two more, smaller arms.
‘You know what the spider said to the fly? Come into my web. And in you came. You filled yourself up on my little treat and no I get to gorge myself as well. Is that not fair?’
What you thought at one point was a branch sticking from the tunnel wall comes loose in your hands and as you once again start to slide inexorably towards the petrifying creature you look at what you had grabbed to see the light reflecting off a human jawbone, ivory in colour with the teeth still in place. Below you there is the rasp of swords being drawn from their scabbards and you look down to see two fangs, jet black and glistening, unfurl themselves from the spiders mouth and it chittered as the creature reared up above you, your legs sliding underneath it as the mandibles waved back and forth madly.
Finally you find your voice and managed a scream but by the time you had sat down in the chair it was already far too late.
‘I would like to tell you this would be painless…’ said the spider mercilessly ‘but it would be a lie.’ There was cruel mirth in its voice.
Your screams continue to float up the hole and out into the world above right up until the cap of the mushroom slams shut again and you are plunged into darkness, left alone with your own cries and that maddening chittering.