Mad As A Hatter (Completed 2015) [WATTY AWARD WINNER *Featured Story*]

chapter twelve - evlewt retpahc

I immediately stopped on the spot and deadpanned. “Period jokes. End. Now.” 

“One more?”

“No.”

“Okay.” He still heard me huffing. “Can you just chill for a moment? ‘Cause your cheeks are looking a little red.”

“You. Are. Going. To. Die.” 

His laughter soaked up any respect I once had for this rotten bastard.

Knowing this castle by heart, we reached the chambers, walls still downed in red paint (blood), and large photos of demon worshipping congesting the ceiling.

It was exasperating when all the doors were locked except for the one at the end. The exact one where Grim and I stayed when we arrived last year.

When we were still together. 

“This room looks familiar,” Grim chirped, shimmying past me and into the room.  He did a three sixty look and plonked on the king sized  heart shaped bed.  “Good memories in here.”

“Ugh. We’re not doing this.” I slammed the door harder than I meant and started unhooking my weapons, dropping them onto the desk. 

Grim laughed, flung his jacket and unbuckled his own weapons, tossing them off the bed.  “Does this bring back any memories?”

“No,” I jetted out.  My finger pointed to the floor, “And you’re sleeping there. I’m sleeping on the bed.” 

His scythe was placed by his socks.  “What’s the harm in sleeping beside each other? We’ve done it before.”

“Before,” I reminded, setting down a roll of grenades. 

A grin twitched on the edge of his lips.  That familiar warmth snuck up my spine and I mentally scolded these god damn teenage hormones. “There’s nothing wrong with reminiscing, Alice.” 

I racked up a good laugh and scoffed, “Your humour never fails to amuse me.” 

His smile curled up to his eyes and he was already stripping off his shirt.  If I wasn’t slowly turning into a human, I would’ve been easily immune to this man’s body. But the odds weren’t in my favor so my gaze was left to linger, feeling hot and bothered.

I hated being part human.

Isaac.  The thought of him under Lord Death’s claws had me frightened.  It must’ve showed because Grim was suddenly embracing my body, wrapping his arms around my neck. I didn’t even hear him get up. “What’s wrong?” he mumbled through my hair. 

“Nothing,” I muttered against his bare chest. I felt his heart skip under my cheek and naturally pulled apart.  “I’m…I’m going to shower.” 

Before he could start a dispute, I slipped off my boots and headed to the ceramic bathroom that once smelled of sex.

I scrubbed my hair, imagining my nails were scratching off these horrific emotions welled inside. How Isaac was doing, if he was safe, if the switch tomorrow was going to work, if I should rekindle my old love with Grim, if I would ever meet my supposed father—the world ending.  My head took the beating of jetting water, hoping to wash it all off. 

I was a walking prune by the time my feet were on the skinned buffalo rug.  I smeared the foggy mirror with my curled fist. Dark hair clung to my skin, makeup smudged under my eye.  I lightly brushed my fingers over the swarm of spotted red blotches, where the water was once harshly pelting. I tried my best to swipe the makeup with my fingers, revealing my baggy eyes. My skin was…unhealthy.