The Nutcracker Bleeds (55 page)

The
pain from his chest touched throughout his body, but his fingers wrapped around
the makeshift rapier that only a doll would wield, and his feet found traction
in his own blood. Clenching his teeth, he ran toward the monster. The heads
kept watch on all sides. Armand knew he could not hope to bypass them, and so
he ran straight on toward what would be death–for anyone other than himself.

The
first head that snapped at him caught a taste of riveted, sour metal against
its lips. It was knocked away but not defeated, shaking away the hit in order
to make another attempt. Armand used the red liquid on his feet to slide a bit
on the tile floor, catching the next head as it wrapped its jaws around his
raised arm. The sharp teeth dug into the wood thoroughly, biting down to the
metal that it could not break. The pain was great, but Armand blocked it from
his mind. There was no time to dwell. He twisted his arm that the rat’s head
was clamped onto, efficiently snapping the neck.

He
nearly expected the ruined head to fall off and a new one to grow back in its
place, but that did not happen. The head remained, hanging lifelessly from its
neck. Armand considered this as he gripped the open jaws of the next head that
struck at him. He felt two rows of sharp teeth dig into his shoulder from
behind as he snapped the jaw of the head in his hands and ripped the flesh
apart back to its ears.

The
nutcracker’s fingers lowered down to his leg, finding one of the needles
strapped there. He withdrew it quickly, gripping it tightly in his fist. Armand
threw his hand up over his shoulder, stabbing the rat head there squarely in
its eye, pushing further into the undoubtedly small mass of its brain.

Three
out of seven
,
Armand’s self reminded him. In response, Armand coughed up another mouthful of
blood.

The
Rat King screeched as Armand stabbed the fourth head through the roof of its
mouth and out its skull. Something had to be done.

Like
a snake, the long pink tail of the rat slid across the floor until it found the
nutcracker’s leg, twisting around the ankle until it had a firm hold. The
wooden soldier tried to stab down at it with a needle, but he was unable before
the rat-creature pulled him off the ground.

The
rodent roared, slamming his enemy’s body into the floor again and again until
the tile did shatter and begin to break away. Armand did not struggle against
this beating, only holding tightly to the weapon in his hand while the other
clenched at the glass shard in his heart. Augustus punished him on all sides,
but once again Armand was absent from the pain.

In
Armand’s mind, he was in a very different place. He was with Clara again and
Anne was there with him. It was cold outside, but it was warm by the fire. His
back split against the tile. His nose chipped and then broke off completely.
Then the tail of the rat unleashed him and he was sailing through the air–
so
free
–before he crashed into a wall, jarring his brain and popping his ears.

4

The
rat looked on at his work, ready to dive in for more and truly tear the cursed
toy apart, but the beast stopped suddenly after only a few steps. Even through
all of that abuse, the nutcracker was pulling himself back off the floor,
standing on shaky legs and holding the screw in his hand.

The
Rat King ground all three of his remaining sets of teeth. This bold defiance
could not be tolerated! Augustus was finished with this game–with this
ridiculous dance. He knew that once he’d turned himself into this much larger
creature, it would be the last of his power to change. There would be no more
growing heads and no turning back to his right form until a long period of
resting had been done. He’d thought that seven heads would have been enough to
last him, but apparently he had miscalculated. Armand was hurt, but he had no
fear of death. It was pointless to let this drag out for so long. He’d had
enough.
Enough!

Two
of the rat’s heads aligned together, resting chin to chin, both pointed
Armand’s way. The nutcracker rushed toward him, ignoring the threat as blood
ran down his limbs. A glowing light emerged in both throats of the rat’s heads.
Armand thrust out his blade as far as it would reach. It was only a few more
steps and he could ruin those remaining heads just as he had done to the
others. The nutcracker rushed on.

A
stream of flame burst out through the Rat King’s jaws as easily as if it might
have been breath. Armand stabbed with the screw, connecting with nothing, and
his wooden body was engulfed in flame. The fire rolled over and around him,
searing him with its heat.

5

The
blaze caught Armand’s hair before getting its hold on his wooden flesh, singeing
it and then burning the white strands wholly until there was nothing left. A
heavy stench and black smoke overtook the air. It was fitting for him wasn’t
it–he who had watched the fire in order to think clearly? The fire was
brilliant. It had great knowledge and secrets. It whispered to him.

It
told him now that if he did not act, he would burn until he was ashen and
brittle and full of holes, but he would not die. The flames could eat his
wooden skin, but they would not get his life. Armand had to act. There was
wisdom in the flames.

He
listened.

The
rat was crazed in his anger, roaring and hissing and snapping his teeth, but
Augustus had made a horrendous error. Had he forgotten that he too could burn?

The flames
ate at Armand, partaking slowly and politely. The cloth coat was already
earning holes and the fire greatly enjoyed the paint of his body, licking it
happily. Armand understood the fire’s hunger. He had his own.

He
ran forward at the rat-beast. It didn’t matter where their bodies connected;
just a simple touch would do. The rat guarded, snapping at Armand but he wasn’t
slowing. The nutcracker lowered his shoulder and threw his burning body onto
the rat’s front leg, wrapping his arms and legs around the limb.

6

Augustus’s
eyes widened at the sight of the fire, realizing what a foolish mistake he’d
made. He’d not even protected himself against his own spells! He shook the leg
to free himself, but he could not manage to pry Armand from him, and he could
not put out the flames.

The
fire climbed across his fur, trailing up onto his back, destroying his skin.
Augustus let out a terrible scream with his three remaining heads, dropping to
the floor to roll and try to smother out the blaze. The fire would not be
defeated. It spread with gluttonous hunger. The rat was helpless to stop it.

In
how many ways was this wrong? How could he have struggled to survive for so
long, only to be cut down in this moment, burning in his own fire and bested by
his own creation? This was fate, and he would burn eternally for all this. This
was retribution.

7

The
fire crackled against the wood. Tiny embers drifted from Armand’s body. The
time for the final strike was now. He held fast to his enemy even through all
the squirming, but now he withdrew slightly, leaning back enough to see his
target.

For
you, Clara. Olivia. Anne…

He
drew back the screw, and with all of his strength, thrust it into the chest of
the rat. The pointed end pushed through and the spiraled metal tore raggedly
inside until it found what it was looking for: the magician’s black heart. It
entered therein.

The
heart burst within the Rat King’s chest, stinking blood spilling out in a
shower over the nutcracker. The rat–the man, the monster–expelled blood through
his mouths, convulsing as his body shut itself down. He’d not given it
permission to stop working, but it had surrendered nonetheless to the
nutcracker’s weapon. Augustus looked at the one he had once been so jealous of,
knowing that finally they would both be the same in this world. They would both
be dead to it.

The
Rat King’s body fell lifeless, and his soul was released into damnation.

After
his enemy was finished, Armand did not bother standing back up. Why should he
bother? The rat’s mass had fallen atop him, and he had no strength to move it.
He simply remained, lying flat against the tile, letting death swallow him.
Finally, it was over.

He
could feel the fire fully attacking him now. The pain was tremendous–unlike
anything he’d felt before. It covered every part of him, even blistering and
devouring what little human skin remained. His blood was boiling. His muscles
jerked. This was death. This was the sweet death he’d sought after.

After
one last, burning breath, Armand’s curse of eternal life ended.

8

Once
the Rat King had fallen in death, there was a stretching hush over the
underbelly of the London home. No one saw what happened, but it happened just
the same. In a world created for toys and mice, all life and meaning was
abolished.

A
pair of mangled puppets with missing arms lingered motionlessly in the dark.
One was still, sitting against the wall. The other was balanced enough to
remain standing, but too stiff to move himself. They did not know who they had
been or what they had done. There was no consciousness or memory. There was no
life
.

A
group of toy soldiers that had locked in battle with rodents simply lost their
balance and fell over onto the hard floor. They did not feel pain from their
wounds, and they did not struggle to rise.

The
mice that had been fighting the soldiers sank down onto four legs. They looked
around with their beady eyes, raising their noses into the air to sniff about.
They did not know any languages save for their own squeaking chatter, and they
knew no master. The mice examined the fallen soldiers, sniffing around their
bodies. The rodents determined that there was no food here. They scurried off
into the dark.

A
small doll with a mass of golden curls leaned against the wall of a shaft, her
glass eyes wide open but unseeing. She had become what she had never truly
been–a lifeless doll. A doll head without a body rested against her knee, black
hair spilling all around. If someone ever found it, they might guess that it
had belonged to a young maiden doll whose hair had never been fixed and whose
face had never been painted. No one would know the truth about the head, for no
one would ever find it. With its child lover, it was lost in the darkness
forever.

Deep
within the house, a fire burned.

1

Todd
moved hastily up the stairs, being careful not to make much sound. He did not
want to alert anyone as to where he was headed. The key that he’d found on the
hallway floor was in his hand. He had guessed that it was a skeleton key–at
least, he hoped. It must have fallen out of William’s pocket. The lying
bastard! He’d said he didn’t have a key to Olivia’s room on him. But Todd was
diligent. Todd was on top of things. Soon, he would get to the bottom of this.

He
managed to get to the third floor unnoticed, knowing that William would likely
be downstairs where the scream had been heard. Todd knew it was not Olivia’s
scream–it did not sound like Olivia at all. The sound was much too childlike to
be Anne’s either, and so Todd was uninterested in it. He only wanted to see
that Olivia was alright and be certain that Anne had done nothing to her.

He
moved to the attic room and anxiously slid the key into the lock. One full turn
and there was a click, the latch undone. His hands shook with fury as he
clenched the knob, remembering that the door was blocked from within by
something large. Todd lowered his shoulder against the door and pressed with
all his might, his shoes gripping the rug beneath his feet. The door slid open
a tiny crack and he hurriedly threw his weight into it. It opened a bit more
with a loud disturbance. He could see into the room now. It was a wreck. Of
course, hadn’t he left it that way? Yet it seemed worse than what he’d done by
breaking a few dolls.

One
last good jolt and the door opened enough for him to squeeze through. Todd
entered, twisting up the light on the wall lamp to see more clearly. He had to
stare for a moment and blink several times before he believed what he saw there
before him. Once he understood, there was no denying it. His eyes blazed.

“What
in bloody hell is
going on
?” he demanded in his rage.

He
received no answer.

2

Anne
was in a cloud of white. Where was she? Had she lost her way back to herself
once her body had been released? After everything else, she wouldn’t have been
surprised. But where was Olivia? Anne was supposed to look after her. The girl
was her responsibility.

Off
in the distance, the woman saw a small figure. Was it Olivia? No, it was much
too small, but it was certainly a girl. Anne could see the outline of her
dress. The girl stared back at her even though the woman could not see her face
through the cloud. Anne could not feel the ground she was standing on.

Where
am I?

A
taller figure emerged from the mist. It was a man, but he was just as blurry as
the girl. He stretched out his hand to the child and she accepted it, joining
together like old friends. Anne saw him lean forward as if the girl was
speaking and he wished to hear her better. He had long hair. It hung down over
his shoulders. When the man leaned back up, both figures turned to look at her.

At
their gaze, Anne felt frozen at her core. Who were they? Why were they looking
at her? Where was she? As she looked on, the fog began to clear, and suddenly
she recognized them.

She
gasped as her heart sped to a rapid pace. She could see their faces, and though
she had never seen them before, she recognized them.
Clara and Armand
…
Was this a dream? No; something was telling her that this was real. So, it was
over then? Armand had destroyed his enemy and lost his own life, just as he’d
planned. Now he had gotten what he’d wanted. He was with his daughter again.
Anne did not feel jealousy for this. In fact, she couldn’t help but smile. She
could not stop a tear from rolling down her cheek. She’d fallen in love with a
nutcracker, but to see him as a man–even though not so clearly–was a gift. Even
without him, perhaps she could learn to be content now. Anne turned to go, done
here, but a certain movement stopped her.

Armand
had reached out toward her, stretching out his arm, but not as an offer. It was
in
desperation
. He saw her; he wanted to get to her. There was a
troubled look on his face, as if he knew that no matter how far he stretched,
he could not reach her. That seemed to distress him. His lips moved, but she
could not hear his words.

But,
over all else, she desired to go to him.

Anne
stepped forward, reaching out her own hand even though he was still a great
distance away–and then she was being pulled back. Something unseen was drawing
her consciousness back toward her body, away from Armand. She struggled against
it fiercely.

No!
I want to go. I need to be with him!

She
fought, but she was losing. When she looked up again, she could not see Armand
or Clara at all. They had vanished.

No!
No it was not fair! Why was she being forced to go back? What she wanted had
been right in front of her and she’d not been allowed to have it. Why? How
could anyone tease her so?

A
firm smack against the side of her face tore her away from those thoughts. She
didn’t know where she was, but she was no longer in the white cloud. Someone
was screaming at her. Anne felt a jolt to the opposite side of her face. Why
was she being slapped?

It
was Armand, she knew. She’d been screaming again after he’d told her not to.
He’d told her that she had to keep control and she’d disobeyed.

“I’m
sorry,” she managed to choke out.

He
slapped her again.

“
That’s
not good enough
!” he yelled. “
Tell me! How could you do something so
disgusting? How!
”

“I…won’t
do it again. I promise!”

“You
won’t do it again? I’ll kill you for it
once
!”

What?

This
was not Armand’s voice at all. She heard it now. Anne managed to open her eyes
and look into the face of the one who attacked her. It was a young face. Her eyes
focused on dark hair and sharp blue eyes that were lit with fury.

“Todd?”

Anne
received no response except for her head being slammed into the wall with great
force. Why was he trying to hurt her? What had she done? Her head hit against
the wall repeatedly, and the woman was not strong enough or aware enough to
resist.

She
managed to catch a glimpse of Olivia, sitting against the side wall with her
head tucked into her knees, naked and vulnerable, hiding from the sound of
Todd’s screams. Anne’s vision blurred as she was knocked back into the wall
once again.

She
could not save herself.

3

William
did not blame his young Elizabeth for screaming at the sight that she found in
the hall. All the dead mice, all the destroyed presents were enough to shatter
any child’s innocence. He wasn’t even sure that his own mind was intact after
seeing this. Could someone have broken into the house and done this as some
sort of cruel joke? Or perhaps it did not take a break–in to have such dark
humor.

Todd.
Of course it must
have been that youth. Who else could it have been?

Once
Elizabeth’s nanny had come into the room to secure the girl–since she too had
been awakened by the scream–William set off up the stairs to find his accomplice.
He had never expected such reckless behavior from his nephew, but tonight, he
would expect anything.

William
might never have known that Todd had gotten into Olivia’s room if not for a
steady thumping noise above his head as he walked the second floor. From that,
he heard a man’s muffled yells, and that lead him to move swiftly to Olivia’s
room.

William
did not know what he would find past the door that sat partially open, and he
did not even try to guess. He moved to the crack where the light was escaping
and pushed himself inside.

His
first glimpse was that of Olivia, sitting on the floor with her hands over her
head and covered with nothing but her hair. William’s vision was turned
immediately away from that and drawn toward the source of the noise. Todd was
there with his back to William, gripping Anne, slamming her head back into the
wall unyieldingly. The woman was wearing just as much as his daughter, but at
the moment, William was more interested in rescuing her from Todd’s rage.

William
rushed forward and forced the younger man to release her. He shoved Todd back
and steadied the disoriented Anne before she fell to the floor.

“What
have you done now?” William demanded, not allowing his voice to grow too
loud.  He hurriedly ripped a quilt from the bed and threw it over Olivia’s
shoulders before turning to do the same for Anne.

Todd
stared only at Anne, puffed up like an enraged primate.

“Ask
that
whore
why she was laying naked on the floor with Olivia!”

“What?”
The word barely came out.

William
looked down at the woman leaning against him. She made no attempt to defend
herself against this accusation, but that must have been because Todd had been
beating her so. Her cheek was reddened and a bruise was forming on her
forehead. Certainly Anne would never participate in such behavior. She could
not have done what she was being accused of–and yet, what other explanation
could there be?

“That’s
what I found when I came in,” Todd went on, pacing in his fury. “They were
asleep, but there’s no knowing what she made the poor girl do before then. Make
her talk!”

Olivia
made no sound, keeping her head down. The girl’s father took a step back from
the woman he’d desired so strongly. This was a stab at him if it was true, but
he could not believe that it was. At the same time, however, he could not deny
it.

“Is
this true?” he asked toward Anne. He could not mask his
disgust.    And for the first time, he wondered if everything
he’d planned had been for naught.

4

Her grey
eyes trailed up to see his face. William’s voice had been calm, but his eyes
were set and very serious. Anne’s head hurt and she felt a bit dizzy, but she
did not appreciate his mistrust. She tugged at the blanket around her body, for
once gaining more power in her dignity rather than her nudity.

“Why
don’t you ask
him
what he made her do,” Anne countered weakly, but
stopped then, remembering suddenly who she was talking to. She remembered what
she had uncovered about him; how he had enlisted the aid of Todd to help him
murder his wife. Obviously William had feelings for her because of his plans to
marry her once his wife was dead, but she could not look at him the same way.
He was not trying to understand. He was demanding that she explain herself.

She
pulled away from him, folding her arms to shield herself. Nearby, the clock
atop the fort of books was ticking.

“How
could you?” she hissed at him. “How could you be so vile?”

Nearby,
Todd looked nervous, confused, and even angrier.

“What’s
she talking about?” he demanded.

“Don’t
act so ignorant,” Anne screamed at him. “I know what you were doing. Both of
you!”

“What
in–” Todd started before realization hit him. He looked at William accusingly.
“You told her, didn’t you?”

“There’s
nothing to tell,” William insisted through his teeth with a sharp look in his
eyes. “You just beat the poor woman senseless. She’s obviously confused.”

Todd
averted his eyes and clamped his mouth shut. He kicked a toy soldier that was
lying face down on the floor. It slid under the bed.

William
took Anne’s arm gently. “Come on, Anne dear. Let’s get you some clothes and we
can talk this out.”

For
the first time, Anne pulled away from his touch. She was lost. She could not
think straight. She was not aware enough to know that it would be better to
simply keep her mouth shut for now. The woman fell back against the wall.

“Something
has got to be done about this,” Todd said through clenched teeth.

“Anne,
whatever you think you know–”

“I
heard you!”

Before
William could stop him, Todd gripped the woman’s arm and pulled her near him,
pinching her face in his hand to force her eyes on his.

“You
should consider that we have a shocking and embarrassing claim we can make
about you just now. I’m certain that if you took the time to consider it, you
would understand that we should both keep quiet about the other’s business
until we can make an arrangement. Hm?”

He
waited, and the time seemed to tick by with each second slower than the last.
His anger was urgent, but the clock was not, and even as he continued to stare
at her, demanding answers, the woman remained silent.

5

When
Anne grew quiet, realization dawning in her eyes, Todd released her, and she
was quickly made aware of her situation. Of course! She knew what had happened
now. She and Olivia had been left unconscious and naked after their sudden
transformation, and when Todd had come into the room, they had both been laying
there…