The Nutcracker Promise

Clara

Clara's eyes fixated on the landscape outside her window. She carefully observed as the snowflakes, once falling furiously, began to slow down and finally ceased. The trees, previously covered in snow, were now visible, and the branches looked fragile, weighed down by the weight of the snow. Clara gazed outside for a few more moments, taking in the serene scene before her, before returning to the room. She hoped the scene would offer peace; however, she felt no relief from thoughts of the Nutcracker. What if Drosselmeyer's tale about his nephew, Hans, was true? She couldn't bear to leave him alone after all the hardships he had faced.
As she delicately turned the soft golden key, a gentle melody filled the air, and a beautifully crafted ballerina began to twirl like a graceful dancer. The sweet notes of the simple tune captivated her, leaving her humming the rhythm and lost in the moment's beauty.
She felt her eyelids drooping, and then she found herself in the arms of the young man from her reverie. He held her firmly as they danced to a simple tune, never breaking eye contact. Despite his gentle and playful features, a hint of sadness remained in his expression, causing his steps to falter. Clara's voice trembled as she tried to soothe his thoughts but could not speak. With a heavy heart, she stood silently, watching everything unfold in his eyes.
She closed her eyes in her dream, refusing to see into his any longer. As Clara glanced at the ballerina again, she couldn't help but notice the transformation of her hair. It had become a striking deep red, much like Clara's locks. And as the ballerina twirled and danced, her skirt transformed from once a pale pink hue to a stunning, vibrant sea green. The spirited colors breathed new life into the ballerina's performance.
She brought her hands over her eyes, with Pavlova giving out a tiny "meow," wanting to comfort Clara.
She stroked the kitten's back as Pavlova responded with a soft purr. The young girl looked back at the ballerina; it had returned to its natural state.
She abruptly stood, opened the hallway door, and grabbed a lit candle. She descended the grand stairs and into the parlor with Pavlova at her heels, making her way to the toys cabinet.
The glass cabinet had been upstairs in the nursery before their mother realized they would continue playing after she tucked Fritz and her to bed. She smiled softly at the simple memory.
She had hoped that she and Fritz would always be best friends. She had hoped for the same with Louise before she abandoned Clara to be courted by her sweetheart, Eric.
Clara sighed, gently pulling open the cabinet doors, not wanting to wake up her other dolls or anyone else. She softly took the Nutcracker into her arms and touched his forehead, feeling her breath through him.
She gently withdrew, her fingers lightly touching his jawline. She paused for a moment, tracing the hollows where his teeth had once been with a soft tap of her fingertips. Her eyes lingered on his face, admiring the rugged lines and curves before sliding down the bridge of his nose. Finally, she drew him close, cradling him in the warmth of her embrace. "I hope you're enjoying your new home. Marie is not quite pleased with you for stealing her bed. So I'd advise you to make it up to her." She laughed at this discussion slightly.
He remained still and unmoving, with the smile she had seen at their first meeting gone from his lips.
This strange, warm, tingling feeling that had consumed her chest since the moment she first saw him increased suddenly as the candle's light gleamed in his eye. She swore his jaw turned up to her in that gentle smile with his eyes sparkling with the golden light.
Making her mind believe that he genuinely was real.
She was shocked by this increase in her affection, causing her to place him back onto the small bed quickly; she couldn't stop herself from bringing the blankets up to his chin and gently stroking his hair as she pulled back from the scene. No matter how much she wanted to reach back to him.
'This was wrong, she told herself. 'She shouldn't and couldn't have feelings felt like this. Even more so for a breathless body.'
She collapsed on the ground, her hand gripping the edge of the cabinet, not wanting to let go of this strand of fantasy that had latched into her reality.
She brought her hand to her head...' why do I so desperately want to believe that Drosselmeyer's stories are true? Why do I so desperately want him to be...alive?'
Tears streamed out of her eyes unevenly. Making her cheeks appear red and swollen.
As she gazed upwards at the Nutcracker, his face bore a gentle smile that seemed to radiate warmth and comfort. His eyes, fixed ahead, and seemed to look right through her; in that piercing gaze she felt understood and seen. Though she knew that couldn't be at all possible.
Clara brushed her tears away with her clenched fist, feeling foolish.
She could not allow these feelings to continue, no matter how sweet he seemed. It was unnatural.
She stood, making her way to the double doors. Setting to her mind, it was just a ludicrous story.
Until the chiming of the grandfather clock stopped her.
Turning at the clock, it had struck three!
"The witching hour." She whispered this softly as her eyes widened, instantly filled with horror.
She had been warned of the haunted time as a child, but it was never kind to her. She would wait quietly under her covers, anticipating the moment it would pass.
Clara saw terrible shadows of the creature from the Nutcracker's tale; its seven heads stretched across the wallpaper. The scratches of claws that echoed all around her.
When the sun fully peaked through the pines, she'd found claw marks all around the wooden bed, as though the creature was trying to get onto her bed! To bite her! She secretly feared that she would end up with the same fate as the selfish princess.
After countless attempts to convince her mother about the entity, she was still bewildered until the claw marks around her bed proved otherwise. Mrs. Stahlbaum gave Clara a kitten named Pavlova, hoping it would stop her from pestering and eliminate the mouse problem.
It never soothed. If anything, it only made it worse.
The only person who believed her about the entity was Godfather Drosselmeyer. Who confronted her about these strange and horrific "dreams" (as Mrs. Stahlbaum liked to refer to them), telling Clara to wait patiently with a soft shoulder pat as an add-on.
How could she wait patiently when a monster of Ill intentions was trying to take something precious to her? She secretly thought.
Her fear grew stronger the longer she thought about it. It was the only thing her mind could comprehend, no matter how hard she tried not to.
As she expected, the clock didn't end, and it continued to chime! She stared, watching the hands twirl uncontrollably, the hour hand breaking off and hitting the floor into three chucks, the minute hand following.
The voice of Lady Mouserink's memory began to erupt all through the space; clutching her ears, Clara heard the voice rise higher, covering her in this sense of an aching and painful need for revenge. The lady exclaimed her last sentence, endlessly reminding her son of his need for vengeance.

"Oh, Crackatuck! Hard nut-hi, hi!-of thee I now must die!-que, que-son with seven crowns will bite-Nutcracker-at night-hi, hi-que, que-and revenge his mother's death-short breath-must I-hi, hi-die, die-so young-que, que-oh, agony!-queek!"

(Excerpt: The Nutcracker and the Mouse King)

Scratches and gnashing of small teeth echoed as Lady Mouserink's soul finished exclaiming her dying wish. The nightmare was happening again, but it seemed more vibrant, the cool colors of the darkness snatching up the light from her candle with a simple touch.
The worst thing was that there were no covers to hide under this time.
Clara tried to move but was frozen, falling to her knees as the beast from her torments became a reality. Two red eyes gleamed through first before his entire body stepped out of the black ink of shadow.
A vast mouse covered in six other bodies - - of similar color to him - - designed into a fur cloak; their eyes forever closed.
And if you happened to look behind him, you could see a twist of tails, including his, combined into one giant clump. It almost made it seem that he had horns behind his head.
His eyes found Clara, her back facing the small table by the cabinet, leaving small indents on her skin and soul. Seeing his expression of triumph, she wished with all her might that she could stand but was petrified at his realistic nature of him.
"Ahh, Clara." His voice had a minor squeak in the undertone but still held its roughness, filled with rage. "You finally decided to come out and play after all these years; how lovely." She stuttered for a response, making him laugh with the squeak more visible.
Her voice returned as he finished his laughing fit, brushing his claw over his eye.
"You've been haunting me all those nights," She stared at him, shocked and fearful, bringing her hands to her ears; she shook fearfully, "...please leave me alone." He smiled, his left hand finding the hilt of his sword.
"Don't worry, I'm not here to torment you...this time. I'm here for that beautiful toy of yours. He belongs to me." He pulled his sword from its sheath, using it to reflect his image,
"The justice of my family must be avenged for his actions. You understand." He blinked, showing innocence, making Clara furious and full of bravery at the statement of him hurting her Nutcracker.
"No. You will not harm him." She grabbed a cane from the umbrella stand, holding it in front of her for defense, guarding the glass cabinet.
The Mouse King's gaze blinked back, surprised at her sentence. She would never dare tell him to leave her alone so confidently, and yet she could mention it so quickly for...him.
He glared at the Nutcracker, who remained still and unmoving, full of disgrace with quenching disgust.
His thoughts rang out in anger, 'He WILL pay for the blood he spilled...whether or not her's does as well...'
He turned back to the girl, his smile mischievously widening, revealing two sharp yellow teeth. He got on his four claws, making his way towards her, with them piercing the wooden floor. His teeth extended while Clara's tears began streaming down her cheeks.
"If...that is what you desire, my Sugar Doll, then so be it."

***
So that you know, today's my birthday! It's been so much fun writing for you. Thank you!

To be Continued in Mouse King...