Alice is dead

[tinytim12]

I'm standing over a woman, and she had blonde hair and a pretty blue dress. She's dead.

Her eyes are nothing but two empty holes, and her face stripped clean of skin, a skeleton, dead as a doornail. I turn my gaze upwards, and find the blue sky burning down at me. That gigantic hole in the sky - I guess that's where I must have fallen through. She must have fallen through too. How else did she end up here, in this crater in the middle of the earth, with no other exit except the one a hundred meters up?

She's lying on her side, her face buried in the wall, as if she's averting her gaze to the prison around her. In the end, what killed her? Starvation? Disease? How long was it before I woke up? How long was it since she let out her last breath?

And her name is Alice. I know this.

Sprawled out like that, she looks uncomfortable, so I wrap my arms around her torso to try and move her. Her arms feel thin and hard under my gloves, and after just a few seconds in flight they break off and clatter to her ground. Her body collapses across the stone floor, and her skull bounces off into the darkness. So much for trying to make amends.

But a note has fallen out of her pocket. It's folded into quarters with sharp, almost desperate strokes, and it's colored unnaturally dark. As I open it, her skull comes to a rest at my feet. Feeling a shiver shoot up my heel, I step to the side and read the frantic writing:

KILL THE RABBIT

The hem of her blue dress is stained with something dark and black. It could be dirt. I crumple the note in my hands, and try to fling it out of the hole above me. It doesn't even get halfway before it stops its arc and falls back into the ground.

Kill the rabbit, huh?

But the first thing I need to do, before anything else, is to get out of this cave. There's something squarish and something long at the far end of the wall. I don't like leaving her body alone, but nevertheless I start to walk forward. As her body folds back into the darkness, the two items show themselves in front of me. It is an old antique black trunk, and a spade lying beside it.

I walk over to the spade and touch it. Then I rap it with my knuckles. It's made of solid steel, sturdy as a ten pound rock. You could bash someone's head in with this. But why do I need a spade?

I grab it in my hands, and turn to examine the trunk. Carefully I lift the lid with the tip of my finger. It feels warm, unnaturally so, and something within it seems to be pulsing. I hold this position for a while, with the lid half-opened and my finger tensed, before I lift my spade and throw the trunk open.

I see stairs, leading down into indecipherable light. The light almost blinds me, and from the texture of it on my face I know that it is real, true-blue sunlight. What's sunlight doing in a place like this? Holding the spade tight, and pointing it in front of me like a sword, I begin to descend the steps.

The light gets brighter and brighter, and suddenly I find myself outside. In the woods, with the birds chirping and the grass whispering. The sunlight wraps around my face. Just like that, I'm back in the normal world. My grip redoubles. The spade's cold and reliable as ever.

There's something ringing behind me.

I whip around, weapon to the ready. Nestled on top of a sawed-off tree trunk, donning a monocle and smoking something from a glass flask, is a bright blue caterpillar. It's hard to tell if he's even aware of me. His eyes are glazed over and he's nodding back and forth.

I raise my spade.

'Being quick to anger won't do you any good at all,' the caterpillar says, without looking up. 'I'm big, strong, and very, very tall. If you try to pick a fight you will only lose. Whether you want to die or live, it is up to what you choose.'

'I'm don't want a fight,' I say.

The ringing sound stings my ears once again, and I notice for the first time a shiny brass bell dangling from one of the creature's hands. 'What you think you wanted, and what you acted, are both things that cannot be redacted.'

'As I said, I don't want a fight,' I say. 'I want to get out of here.'

'Where is your destination? Such a concept desires much precognition.'

'Stop speaking in riddles. I hate riddles.'

The smoke from the flask rises lazily along the neck, and then falls back down after the caterpillar takes a breath. He still isn't bothering to look at me.

'I only asked you a question, and I expect an answer, you know,' he says.

'What question?'

'As to where you wanted to go.'

'I don't know. Anywhere.'

'You are lost?'

'I lost my memory. Beats me.'

'So you are simply wandering around this forest, like a tireless adventurer, a journey without end.'

'My journey does have a damned end.'

'No, it doesn't,' the caterpillar says. 'Your journey ends here.'

He starts ringing the bell again.

'Stop it,' I say.

He doesn't stop, and suddenly says, 'Did you kill her?'

'Who?'

'Alice.'

'Her? Who killed her?'

'That is what I'm asking you.'

The ringing gets louder.

'Stop it,' I snap.

He finally looks at me, one sharp red eye pulsing from under his monocle, and he rings the bell harder. 'Did you kill her?'

'If you don't stop ringing the bell, I'm going to kill you.'

'Like you did with her?' the caterpillars face stretches out into a white grin. 'How did you kill her? How did you kill Alice? Did you beat her to death? Strangle her? Shoot her? Break her neck? How? How?'

I bring the spade up and smash it down with all my strength onto his head. He lets out a shriek, rolls away in a torrent of blood, screeching something incoherent. I see him smash his bottle against the ground, rush at me, and I raise the spade again, and all the while his damned bell is ringing, pounding into my head, thundering through the entire wood, as I bring the spade down, pull it up, and bring it down again, until finally I hear a squish and when I look down I'm standing over the caterpillar. He's dead.

I step carefully around his brains, try my best to avoid the sticky blue blood, until I reach down and pick up the brass bell. Miraculously, it's still untouched and pure and clean. As I pick it up it gives a little ring.

I put it into my pocket.

The caterpillar had a briefcase sitting at the side of the tree stump where he had used to sit. I pick it up, lie it across the stump and open it.

There are two items inside. One is a playing card, the queen of hearts. It feels as light as a feather. But when I touch it and move it to the side, a deep cut springs out across my hand, breaking the leather gloves and oozing blood from my skin. I wipe away the blood and study the card more carefully. On closer examination, the card is lined up and around by a thin and sharp razor blade.

The Queen uses these, doesn't he? To sort out particularly troublesome problems should any arise. That means the caterpillar was working for the Queen. Funny. I think I'm getting my memory back. But what was the caterpillar doing here?

The second item is a mirror.

I look into it and see a familiar face. Two droopy ears, a black nose. A rabbit stares back at me.

Kill the -

I grasp at my cheek, and find grizzled fur.

Kill the -

Memories come flooding back, all of them, all of them -

Kill the Rabbit?

No.

I am the Rabbit.

And someone in Wonderland wants me dead.

[Spedmallet]

Let me start out by saying this has a lot of potential. I absolutely love the hook at the beginning, and absolutely loved the part at the end.

But I noticed a lot of work needs to be done. Wording, construction, typos and a few various nitpicks from me. I'll try to tackle as much of it as I can.

I'm standing over a woman, and she had blonde hair and a pretty blue dress. She's dead.

I'm standing over a woman who has blonde hair and a pretty dress. She is dead.
(You shouldn't use conjunctions when narrating)

I noticed how the man and woman are described as being outside. Then afterwards, he is suddenly in a cave. You need to fix that.

Her eyes are nothing but two empty holes, and her face stripped clean of skin, a skeleton, dead as a doornail.

I place a hand on her shoulder and face her towards me. I feel sick for a moment. Her eyes are nothing but two empty holes. Her face is stripped clean of skin, but the rest of her body is seemingly untouched. The hem of her blue dress is filthy; stained with something dark and black.

What could have done this? I tossed around some scenarios in my head; starvation, disease. No I thought; not with a face like that. Something did did this to the woman and I feared to know what. I feared I could be next. I thought for a moment.

I knew her name was Alice. Why?

(Just an example, but what I'm getting at is try to keep all your description of the woman in a single paragraph. In the original you jump from a few lines about her, then to the sky, and then back to her. Describe her, then describe the surroundings in a separate paragraph. Further, keep your paragraphs focused on a single idea. In my example, he describes the woman. Then the next paragraph is him wondering what killed her.)

Sprawled out like that, she looks uncomfortable, so I wrap my arms around her torso to try and move her. Her arms feel thin and hard under my gloves, and after just a few seconds in flight they break off and clatter to her ground. Her body collapses across the stone floor, and her skull bounces off into the darkness. So much for trying to make amends.

Pointless and kind of unrealistic. Why would he do this? Would you pick up a corpse lying on the ground? Have him search the body rather. He tries to move the arm and it breaks off. He finds the note.

Feeling a shiver shoot up my heel, I step to the side and read the frantic writing:

"Step to the side" bothers me a lot. "Frantic" does too. Why would he just pick it up and step to the side?
Have him pick up the note; it's still folded up. I can see him maybe turning around and facing away from the corpse as he opens the letter. Maybe describe the words are messy, scrawled sloppily in black ink. Maybe he stares at it for a moment and reads it over and over.

Leave out frantic; she had enough time to neatly fold up the note. Describe it as sloppy.

I don't like leaving her body alone, but nevertheless I start to walk forward.

This bothers me. Why would he care about the corpse? Have him pity the girl instead.

I walk over to the spade and touch it. Then I rap it with my knuckles. It's made of solid steel, sturdy as a ten pound rock. You could bash someone's head in with this.

Just a thought. I assumed at first he was referring to a shovel. Then I got the gist it was a handheld item.

Why not make it a shovel? And the spade of it looks like that of a playing card.

But why do I need a spade?

Leave out the question. He picks it up without hesitation.
"Just incase." I thought.

The light gets brighter and brighter, and suddenly I find myself outside. In the woods, with the birds chirping and the grass whispering. The sunlight wraps around my face. Just like that, I'm back in the normal world. My grip redoubles. The spade's cold and reliable as ever.

There's nothing wrong with using commas, but if you can turn it into two sentences do that instead.
The light gets brighter and brighter. I step through it and find myself outside.

I whip around, weapon to the ready. Nestled on top of a sawed-off tree trunk, donning a monocle and smoking something from a glass flask, is a bright blue caterpillar.

Don't like 'whip'. Try to avoid using terms like that. I imagine whip to be lashing something father than facing something. I'd also like to know more about the caterpillar. There's a lot to describe; what colors is he, what is his face like, what are his remarkable features? Is he spiny? Hairy?

'Being quick to anger won't do you any good at all,' the caterpillar says, without looking up. 'I'm big, strong, and very, very tall. If you try to pick a fight you will only lose. Whether you want to die or live, it is up to what you choose.'

'I'm don't want a fight,' I say.

The ringing sound stings my ears once again, and I notice for the first time a shiny brass bell dangling from one of the creature's hands. 'What you think you wanted, and what you acted, are both things that cannot be redacted.'

'As I said, I don't want a fight,' I say. 'I want to get out of here.'

'Where is your destination? Such a concept desires much precognition.'

'Stop speaking in riddles. I hate riddles.'

I'd go for some minor rewriting. I like the way the caterpillar speaks. Leave out how the main character tells the caterpillar to stop speaking in riddles, unless you write in some actual riddles. Maybe the caterpillar riddles hints that he is the rabbit.

The smoke from the flask rises lazily along the neck, and then falls back down after the caterpillar takes a breath. He still isn't bothering to look at me.

I don't like 'flask', it just makes me imagine him to be smoking out of a whiskey bottle which doesn't seem possible. Use pipe, bong, hookah, etc. If you're determined to use flask at least describe how the character believes the caterpillar fashioned his makeshift pipe out of the bottle.

[Spedmallet]

'So you are simply wandering around this forest, like a tireless adventurer, a journey without end.'

'My journey does have a damned end.'

'No, it doesn't,' the caterpillar says. 'Your journey ends here.'

Rewrite this.
"So you are simply wondering around this forest, like a tireless adventurer on a journey without end?"
"...what are you getting at?"
He grinned. "That your journey will end here."
Or something like that.

I bring the spade up and smash it down with all my strength onto his head. He lets out a shriek, rolls away in a torrent of blood, screeching something incoherent. I see him smash his bottle against the ground, rush at me, and I raise the spade again, and all the while his damned bell is ringing, pounding into my head, thundering through the entire wood, as I bring the spade down, pull it up, and bring it down again, until finally I hear a squish and when I look down I'm standing over the caterpillar. He's dead.

Needs to be rewritten.
-Don't like 'torrent'. Not a good word for it.
-Not enough description
-I feel it happens too quick
-Consider the caterpillar giving him more of a fight. Maybe he wraps him up, gets a jab in. Show your main character is not invincible.

I step carefully around his brains, try my best to avoid the sticky blue blood, until I reach down and pick up the brass bell. Miraculously, it's still untouched and pure and clean. As I pick it up it gives a little ring.

Describe his blue blood in the fight scene. Don't like 'brains' either; I'd go with guts or ooze.
Too much description after miraculously.

The Queen uses these, doesn't he? To sort out particularly troublesome problems should any arise. That means the caterpillar was working for the Queen. Funny. I think I'm getting my memory back. But what was the caterpillar doing here?

When I read this I instantly thought "How does he even know this queen person?" He has amnesia doesn't he?
Consider it being a picture of the man instead. The character describes what the person looks like; I'd make it a burly man with hearts painted on his face and lipstick on. I'm stupid like that. Maybe there's a caption on the picture; "God save the queen."
He then recognizes the man.

I look into it and see a familiar face. Two droopy ears, a black nose. A rabbit stares back at me.
Kill the -
I grasp at my cheek, and find grizzled fur.
Kill the -
Memories come flooding back, all of them, all of them -
Kill the Rabbit?
No.
I am the Rabbit.
And someone in Wonderland wants me dead.

Don't change a thing about that.

[tinytim12]

Thanks a bunch for commenting, though I'm going to have to disagree with you on several points:

At 2/12/13 11:57 AM, Idioteque123 wrote: Let me start out by saying this has a lot of potential. I absolutely love the hook at the beginning, and absolutely loved the part at the end.

I don't know if you are aware of this, but the plot of this short story isn't mine (although the writing style is). I was trying to do a novelization of the flash game Alice is Dead.

I'm standing over a woman, and she had blonde hair and a pretty blue dress. She's dead.

I'm standing over a woman who has blonde hair and a pretty dress. She is dead.
(You shouldn't use conjunctions when narrating)

Why not? This is the Rabbit's stream of consciousness, which doesn't exactly have to follow proper grammar. I wanted his thoughts to seem flowing and continuous.

I noticed how the man and woman are described as being outside. Then afterwards, he is suddenly in a cave. You need to fix that.

You're right about that - I'll fix that.

What could have done this? I tossed around some scenarios in my head; starvation, disease. No I thought; not with a face like that. Something did did this to the woman and I feared to know what. I feared I could be next. I thought for a moment.

I knew her name was Alice. Why?

(Just an example, but what I'm getting at is try to keep all your description of the woman in a single paragraph. In the original you jump from a few lines about her, then to the sky, and then back to her. Describe her, then describe the surroundings in a separate paragraph.

Agreed. I'll change it.

Sprawled out like that, she looks uncomfortable, so I wrap my arms around her torso to try and move her. Her arms feel thin and hard under my gloves, and after just a few seconds in flight they break off and clatter to her ground. Her body collapses across the stone floor, and her skull bounces off into the darkness. So much for trying to make amends.

Actions performed by characters doesn't have to be rational. What I wanted to do here is show a sign of the Rabbit's guilt - how he subconsciously wants to make amends to her death, and the only way he can do so is to move her body into a more dignified position to pay his last respects.

Feeling a shiver shoot up my heel, I step to the side and read the frantic writing:

"Step to the side" bothers me a lot. "Frantic" does too. Why would he just pick it up and step to the side?

Because the skull was touching him.

Maybe he stares at it for a moment and reads it over and over.

The Rabbit doesn't roll that way.

Leave out frantic; she had enough time to neatly fold up the note. Describe it as sloppy.

Agreed.

I don't like leaving her body alone, but nevertheless I start to walk forward.

I was trying to give the impression that he didn't want to leave the body alone in the dark, helpless and such, according to his irrational reasons stated above. I could make it more clearer, though.

I walk over to the spade and touch it. Then I rap it with my knuckles. It's made of solid steel, sturdy as a ten pound rock. You could bash someone's head in with this.

Just a thought. I assumed at first he was referring to a shovel. Then I got the gist it was a handheld item.

Why not make it a shovel? And the spade of it looks like that of a playing card.

You're right. What on earth made me put down spade?

But why do I need a spade?

Leave out the question. He picks it up without hesitation.

I put the question there to show that the Rabbit is unsure of himself, a sign of his amnesia.

The light gets brighter and brighter, and suddenly I find myself outside. In the woods, with the birds chirping and the grass whispering. The sunlight wraps around my face. Just like that, I'm back in the normal world. My grip redoubles. The spade's cold and reliable as ever.

There's nothing wrong with using commas, but if you can turn it into two sentences do that instead.
The light gets brighter and brighter. I step through it and find myself outside.

I whip around, weapon to the ready. Nestled on top of a sawed-off tree trunk, donning a monocle and smoking something from a glass flask, is a bright blue caterpillar.

Don't like 'whip'. Try to avoid using terms like that. I imagine whip to be lashing something father than facing something. I'd also like to know more about the caterpillar. There's a lot to describe; what colors is he, what is his face like, what are his remarkable features? Is he spiny? Hairy?

I agree with all of the above. Description is one of my weak points.

I'd go for some minor rewriting. I like the way the caterpillar speaks. Leave out how the main character tells the caterpillar to stop speaking in riddles, unless you write in some actual riddles. Maybe the caterpillar riddles hints that he is the rabbit.

Agreed.

The smoke from the flask rises lazily along the neck, and then falls back down after the caterpillar takes a breath. He still isn't bothering to look at me.

I don't like 'flask', it just makes me imagine him to be smoking out of a whiskey bottle which doesn't seem possible. Use pipe, bong, hookah, etc. If you're determined to use flask at least describe how the character believes the caterpillar fashioned his makeshift pipe out of the bottle.

Agreed.

[tinytim12]

Rewrite this.
"So you are simply wondering around this forest, like a tireless adventurer on a journey without end?"
"...what are you getting at?"
He grinned. "That your journey will end here."
Or something like that.

I'm going to have to disagree with this. The caterpillar speaks in a certain way, and I prefer the syntax of my sentences. In addition, I want the caterpillar to grin specifically when he asks how Alice was killed. For dramatic impact.

I bring the spade up and smash it down with all my strength onto his head. He lets out a shriek, rolls away in a torrent of blood, screeching something incoherent. I see him smash his bottle against the ground, rush at me, and I raise the spade again, and all the while his damned bell is ringing, pounding into my head, thundering through the entire wood, as I bring the spade down, pull it up, and bring it down again, until finally I hear a squish and when I look down I'm standing over the caterpillar. He's dead.

Needs to be rewritten.
-Don't like 'torrent'. Not a good word for it.
-Not enough description
-I feel it happens too quick
-Consider the caterpillar giving him more of a fight. Maybe he wraps him up, gets a jab in. Show your main character is not invincible.

I intended the fight scene to be quick, but reading it over it's too quick. I'll rewrite it.

Too much description after miraculously.

I disagree. The description is fine the way I see it. If its the matter of conjunctions that's bothering you, I intended the paragraph to be a stream of consciousness(again).

When I read this I instantly thought "How does he even know this queen person?" He has amnesia doesn't he?

When he suddenly knows who the Queen is, I meant it as foreshadowing that his memories are coming back.

I look into it and see a familiar face. Two droopy ears, a black nose. A rabbit stares back at me.
Kill the -
I grasp at my cheek, and find grizzled fur.
Kill the -
Memories come flooding back, all of them, all of them -
Kill the Rabbit?
No.
I am the Rabbit.
And someone in Wonderland wants me dead.

Don't change a thing about that.

Thanks.

And thanks for the detailed review. I'll definitely rework some things on this masterpiece of mine.