Heartful || Heartless Sequel/Fanfiction ||

Ch.6 || Dungeons and Mad Men

THE MAD MAN KNOWS ALL. Those were the words inscribed in white when Crow unfolded the paper. He didn't know what to make of them. Whether it was just another one of Red's tricks or something more. He was no stranger to gossip. He knew what everyone in Hearts whispered about him. Stories about a dragon, the legendary vorpal sword, and a man whose name was never spoken. Crow knew those stories, but he also knew they weren't true. They were not myths but fairytales fabricated to scare little children into their beds, and yet he felt something telling him that wasn't the case.

Crow's legs felt like giving out after every long step he took down the concrete stairs. The moisture of the room and faint glow of the torches made the nauseating feeling in his stomach grow worse. He heard a group of spades wrangling in their dark cell for whatever reasons they found themselves there. Crow placed three tartlets by the bars silencing the voices and making his way down to the other prisoners. The echoes of misery seemed to go farther down the halls as he distanced himself from the cages. Everything in the dungeon was like a giant maze with all the twists and turns leading to the same spot as before. Getting in was always easy but getting out took skill and keen memorization, something which never disappointed him.

When he had reached the point where the cries ended and a red silver door met him in return Crow already knew what lied inside. From the way he saw the Queen of Hearts speak to the man like an old friend it came to no surprise that she had claimed the darkest cell down in the old castle just for him.

Crow realized he was beginning to shake unable to pull his hand into a fist and knock the door for a response. He swallowed down hard. What could possibly frighten him now? He had spent hours in the dungeons before, even as a small child. Were Red's words true? Was the possibility of not being a true born son really sitting in his mind? Crow attempted to peer through the opening carved in the middle top of the silver frame. When he squinted into the emptiness he realized it was too dark to see anything, perhaps he was overreacting. Only a fool ought to believe the lies of his brother.

He turned to leave adjusting the wrinkles in his red dress shirt and black pants. He had not reached a step forward when a hand grasped him by the collar and slammed him hard onto the metal. "It isn't very civil to leave without saying hello," a voice said with an amusing tone, "and it isn't very civil to arrive without saying goodbye."

Crow's head spun to see the silver man's lilac eyes widen in sudden surprise. "M-My apologies, sir. I had thought no one was here," he stuttered. The man's grasp quickly disappeared along with his pale hand. Crow saw the color of his eyes vanish into the dark. "May I know your name?" No one responded. When he attempted to speak again the man's whispers caught him off but he couldn't make out his words. They were quick and silent almost like the wind itself. Crow drew nearer staggering back when the man suddenly pulled his face into the light.

"Hatta," he said in a rush. "And you are?"

"Crow Pinkerton of Hearts, Crown Prince of the Hearts Kingdom."

The boy could've sworn he saw a devilish smirk on the man's face when he spoke. "You're Catherine's child."

"Yes. She is the Queen." he nodded.

"And what is his princeliness doing in a dreadful place such as this?"

Crow didn't know how to respond. He didn't know the answer himself. He didn't want to admit he doubted his birth right. "I-I tend to the prisoners."

Hatta scowled his features very faint. "You?" he raised a brow in suspicion. "A royal and heir to the throne. Shouldn't you be attending to more important festivities?"

"No-Yes. I-"

"No. Yes. Say what you mean, my boy." Their was some humor in Hatta's words. Crow's lips parted but Hatta interrupted him again. "What an awful mess of hair." Crow was taken back by the statement more surprised than hurt that he could see the deep brown fibers in poor lighting.