average human’s Reviews > Into the Madness > Status Update

Warm golden light falls over us from big glass chandeliers overhead. They hang high on the domed ceiling, the towering walls making the room feel endless and extraordinary.
“It is my honor to present Fuck You.” There’s a noble sound to Kais’s voice, and even he can’t suppress the sarcastic glint in his gaze.
“I beg your pardon?” A woman’s voice carries over the crowd of people who are staring down on me.
I turn on the floor, my muddy heels slipping against the tile, leaving a streak of filth in my wake. It takes effort to contain my modesty in the short—slightly destroyed—blue dress. My fingers smooth against the clumps of dirt clinging to the once soft fabric. I spent hours on this dress. Sewing and stitching and making it look perfect for my first college party.
And now the come stain on the hem is hardly noticeable. It’s that bad.
My attention raises, and then I see her. Waves of silk bunch up to slim hips, a soft curve of her body, and delicate hands rest there. Long blonde hair curls slightly, and piercing gray eyes study every particle of dirt that I’m carrying around like armor.
Her chin tips up in a look of authority.
There are two golden thrones directly behind her on the far wall. All that’s missing is a shining crown.
I’ve never met royalty before, but I know a queen when I see one.
“I said it’s my greatest pleasure to introduce to you Fu—”
“My name is Madison Torrent.” My voice rings out over Kais’s adamant curse word.
Those steely eyes narrow on me. She crosses the wide golden tiles, coming closer and closer and closer. Until the ends of her sleek red gown kiss my fingertips.
“Stand up, girl.”
It’s been a few years since someone called me girl. The words Sick Girl spin through my mind, and my lips thin just thinking about it.
But I do as I’m told.
My heels click against the floor. Ashen particles of dirt drift down around me. It’s like my very own confetti of filth. This woman doesn’t seem to be too pleased about it.
“Profit. Profit!” Her voice snaps out the words.
My gaze drifts. Red hearts are painted on the golden doors we walked through. The same crimson hearts are embroidered into the hem of this woman’s long perfect gown.
The Kingdom of Hearts…The Kingdom of Wanderlust. And a man who’s obsessed with not being late.
I’ve dreamed up Wonderland. I’m in a sort of warped Wonderland.
I look to the loud and demanding woman before me. Is she the Queen of Hearts?
A young boy steps forward, parting the hundreds of people with ease as he drifts closer. The palest white hair I’ve ever seen lies in a disorderly state atop his head. Big brown eyes watch the woman closely as he takes his time striding over. It’s an odd confidence to see in such a little boy.
When he’s a foot away, I notice he only comes up to my shoulder. He’s maybe five foot at the most. His shoulders and arms are slight and delicate. I can’t help but wonder if he’s even a teenager yet.
“Profit, the King has not yet come down. Can you please tell us if she is the one?”
The One. I’m getting very Harry Potter–Neo vibes here.
I mean, sure The One sounds prestigious and all, but those guys went through a lot of shit. A lot. And they had a whole team of friends to help.
What do I have?
I can’t help but peer back at Kais. His attention never meets mine as he passes a lazy gaze over the crowd. He looks like he’s ready to clock out the moment this woman says he’s dismissed.
Yeah. I can’t be The One. I don’t have enough people who like me for me to be The One.
Warmth skims against my leg, soft and purring. A beautiful purple and pink cat sways between my heels, sending humming sounds of its contentment against my skin.
“She very well could be,” the boy says.
No, I couldn’t. Lack of friends, lack of good health, can’t be The One. Sorry.
The boy’s long fingers graze my hair, snagging on a tangled mess of the wig.
“She has the beautiful long blonde hair like I saw.”
For a moment, I consider ripping off the wig, throwing it at his feet and telling him he can be The One, but that doesn’t seem like proper royal etiquette.
“And the socks. Yes, she has the white socks.”
These are the specifics we’re tallying up for The One? The One is a blonde woman with white socks. Really? That’s all it takes? The bar is set incredibly low for qualified applicants.
The woman looks down at the white, brown, and blood-stained socks. Well, they were white. Before I came here, they were definitely white.
“Is she here?” The low rumble of his voice is calm and curious. It calls my attention immediately.
The lighting of the chandeliers reflects off of the golden floors and highlights his skin to a godly tone. Blonde curls are neat and trimmed along the edges of the crimson crown that rests on his head. Dark gray eyes meet mine.
For a moment, the room is quiet. Not one whisper sounds through the room as his gaze holds on mine. My shoulders square for some odd reason as I look up at the man who must be the King.
“She says her name is Madison Torrent,” the woman tells him.
“Madison.” The deep tone of his voice hums against my name. He searches my features, and I’m still not sure what I’m supposed to say to any of them.
Not that they ask me for my opinion.
“And she’s The One?” His attention slips to the boy who stands between him and the woman.
“She has the socks.”
Oh, for fuck’s sake.
“There’s only one way to know for sure.” The woman’s voice holds a hint of amusement. It’s a cruel sound that makes me take a small step back from her and whatever it is she has in mind to find out if I’m their one true Alice.
As I step back, Kais steps forward. His arm brushes mine, and he never once looks my way. His jaw tips up to the woman, exposing his throat to her. The woman raises her hand, her index finger extending to show the shine of her sharp red nails.
She touches his neck lightly in an almost affectionate way that makes my stomach twist even more for some reason. Her nail rakes over his skin with an elegant wave of her hand. Smoke fumes from her fingertip and his skin. The distinct smell of burning flesh singes the air. When Kais grimaces just slightly, I lunge forward.
My hand grips her small wrist, and I tear her strange magic away from him.
“Just what do you think you’re doing?” A thin line of anger seals her lips as she stares wide-eyed down on me. She’s tall. Taller than myself even in my heels. But she isn’t nearly as intimidating as she thinks she is.
A gentle warmth skims against my wrist.
“It’s alright, Madison.” At the sound of my name, I look up at him. His piercing blue eyes hold an exposed kindness to them. The anger and annoyance that he’s had since the moment we met isn’t there. It’s a vulnerable look that disappears the moment he realizes it’s there and too many people are watching. The vacancy in his gaze falls back into place.
The woman’s attention slips past my hand gripping hers to peer down at the way Kais’s fingers are resting against my wrist. It’s that minuscule bit of attention that has him pulling away.
“Let’s get this over with,” Kais says coldly. His chin tilts up once more, prepared for the pain she’s about to give him all over again.
This is a strange world. A strange place filled with customs and rules that I clearly don’t understand. It takes me longer than a second to release her. My fingers are stiff as I pry them away one by one. My legs feel the same way as I take a careful step back.
And watch as she finishes her handy work of burning his flesh in front of her court of adoring subjects.
My brow lowers, and that tightness constricts even more within my stomach. A soothing warmth sways against my legs, and the cat is right there, tangling itself around me, giving me a meager amount of comfort.
Moments pass. Kais’s teeth clench together hard as her finger grazes the strong angle of his throat and jaw. His lashes lower slowly, his breaths coming out in steady but deep exhales. And I wait with forced patience for the moment to end.
“There. Perfect. My best one yet, I think.” Her pale eyebrows rise, a pleased smile widening her lips. “What do you think, Constantine?” She settles her assaulting hands back on her hips and takes a small step back for the King to admire her work.
“It’s red, Sister.”
“Red indeed, Brother.”
Kais was just burned. Of course it’s red. My jaw hurts from how much effort I’m putting in to keeping my mouth shut.
“That is an excellent sign, my King.” The boy nods. The King nods. The King’s sister nods. Every single fucking person in this room nods.
Except for Kais.
“What does red mean?” My gaze remains on the angry, fire red numbers that are now etched across the side of Kais’s throat. Thousands of black numbers and dates line his body. This one, 4884, isn’t bleeding and scarred. It’s smooth and perfectly healed. But it’s crimson. Cherry red.
“Konstance possesses scribing magic. When she engraves dates or numbers into a person’s skin, it’ll bleed the truth about who we’re looking for. She’s a true asset to Wanderlust. Just like Kais. Kais has always been our man of judgement. A trusted advisor above all others.” My lips purse harder when the King calls him their man of judgement. It’s an infuriating title that just means he’s their abused fucking prisoner of this world. He adds one more explanation that catches me off guard. “It has always turned black,” he whispers.
“Always?” I can’t help but repeat that word.
“It’s never stayed red before.”
A beat passes by with the thrumming of my heart.
“What does that mean?”
Kais turns, giving Konstance the span of his back as he faces me with a serious gaze that’s hard to look at. It strikes nerves all through me.
“It means you’re the One-est One we’ve ever received in Wanderlust.”
“She’s The One.”
“The One-est One.”
“She came for us.”
“The One has come for us.”
Shouting and chanting fire up from all around the open room. And I stand, staring up into those empty blue eyes.
“The One-est One. So I’m not The One, but I’m the best you’ve gotten?” I blink. I blink again. I try to make sense of all of the nonsense these people live in.
Alice is the final newcomer. This red number indicates I’m their Alice. I’m going to bring peace between two Kingdoms… I don’t even know what the hell is wrong with the two Kingdoms aside from the moth lady and the centipede man. All I know is they have some kind of bug problem, and I don’t have a clue how to fix that.
I am not equipped for pest control, folks.
“At the moment, yes, you’re the One-est One.” Kais’s features are this smooth, careless but considering appearance. It’s like his mind is turning, but there’s so much he won’t say.
He’s a censored man in this Kingdom. My gaze flickers over the crowd.

Maybe they all are.
“What happens now?” Something bad. Something bad always happened to Harry Potter. Even when it was something good, it was always followed by something bad.
“If the red stays, you’re her.” Constantine keeps his perfect posture, but his attention is completely kind. He isn’t a dangerous or cruel King. My gaze slips to his sister for only a moment. “We’ll wait.”
They’ll wait. They’ve been waiting for hundreds of years. What’s another few decades, right?
Shit, what if this takes decades? What if they insist I stay here, and it’s a constant waiting game of wondering if that number against Kais’s neck will ever fade to black?
I’m sick. I need medical attention too frequently to linger here. But the way they’re looking at me, I know I can’t leave.
It’s no longer an option.
This isn’t a land of Wonder like I’ve read in a thousand books before. This is a prison.
“I-I’m rather tired.” The amount of effort I put into being polite and proper is ridiculous. “It’s been a tiresome journey.”
“It certainly looks like it,” the Profit says as he gives a once over of the blood and mud caked to my skin. I cut a hard glare toward the boy, but it goes unnoticed.
“Of course.” Gentle gray eyes meet mine. Is he the King of Hearts? Knave? The White Knight? What role does he play if his sister is the Queen of Hearts?
King Constantine brushes his palm against the back of my hand, and it’s a testing touch. An almost intimate touch, but I feel it. I feel the draw of his skin against mine. It’s an unsettling tingling thing that coils energy all through my body.
Fuck, what if I am The One?