The Huntsman In London {Sequel to Mad and In Love}

Of Mice and Melting Minds

The sheer heat of molten metal caused the Liddell to turn his face away from the severe glare of hot red. It was unbearable, he was positively sweating through his clothes and soaking them to the bone. So much so that only a few minutes of exploring the level he had to stop and untie his bow tie as well as open up his shirt. The pre recorded track played over and over above his head.

"A good worker, is a live worker! Free to live..! And work...A bad worker is a dead worker; and vice versa. Don't be a bad worker; bad workers are slaves, and dead. Payday for good workers has been postponed indefinitely. Payday for bad workers is cancelled!"

He grimaced at the mocking rally behind which the previous trolls had rallied behind. A mutiny of production which quick conspired to terror by its consorts. What just desserts did they face to overthrow, while an eccentric owner of the labor, also considerate with at some degree humanity and kindness. Now this is the fruits of their suffering as true to Hatters word, the exceptions had yet became the rule.

The conditions were sweltering, groans of agony left Alan's lips in such suffering against such heat. He debated whether or not to come into complete undress to satisfy the ache of overheat but found it counterproductive. The shirt may not be much, but it was some layer which prevented worse burn or injury to him and that was enough to bare with it.

He finally arrived at the source of the heat, air so dense Alan could scarcely breathe but upon viewing his enemy there overseeing his labors he grew so enraged. Treacherous wretch, to betray his action to whatever violence consumes his soul. Such acts were worthy of execution, but a goal to stop the infection before it depart the most egregious portion of his illness was paramount.

It was not long before the Dormouse, with his blood red eye glaring down at Alan in a fit of vengeance seething through his veins, had called out to Alan and beckoned him forth with his paw, "Alan, how," He paused, intonation shifting from the mocking jovious to utter disdain, "Expected. You wish to stop what is already in motion? What impertinence, What folly, Alan, what a pity...I weep in the grief that you long for, on your own accord. You know not the despair you witness, the hell you bring to all who know. Your ignorance is suffocating."

The addressed boy irked at the mouses accusations, resonating the point that lead him to doubt his experiment of the mind but in any case rejected any discouragement by virtue of passion for one he so longed for.

"If I am ignorant, you are a pitiful vagabond, Dormouse. With what evidence do you prove your conviction? Lies upon which my soul is meant to perish, you mean to destroy me and is that no enough to show the malice of your heart? If you weep, then I grieve the darkness in which you find yourself."

The mouse scoffed at the notion, a madman preserving the little bliss he scourged for in spite of suffering. Nothing worse than nothing. The mouse spread his small wingspan and called forth the wreckoning of such a tumultuous force of the psyche.

"The world is darkness, and you search hopelessly for light. Brilliance, consciousness, but what's done is done, Alan. If only what you did was forgivable, but what a time it is to seek piety from the wicked...But a sign of the times..." The mouse grieved, wooing to his right and engaging a lever to spill molten metal on to Alan.

The young man could hear the rusted creak of the bucket and quickly rushed to the left, barely escaping  an incendiary end.

"I don't look for your faith but your connection to my own. You know what happened to (Y/n)!" His voice boomed above the intense ring of the heat.

The mouse could only drunkenly laugh upon this panel in glee, playing with the steel key around his neck, "Most everyone does these days...If I know then surely my oppressor did, you were weak to spare him. I thought you a good worker Alan, I truly did. But perhaps there are just somethings that are destined not to work out so to speak.."