Kitabı oku: «Alice in Zombieland / Алиса в Стране зомби», sayfa 4

Alice stared at the mushroom, its speckled surface glistening faintly in the misty light. It didn't look appetizing in the least. “Is it poisonous?” she said finally.

“Perhaps,” the Caterpillar murmured, exhaling another plume of mist. “But every poison is a medicine, if used the right way. This – ” he gestured lazily at the mushroom, “ – anyway, is just a mushroom. A funny one, yes – but more helpful than you'd expect. Especially for someone like you.”

“That's not very convincing,” Alice said flatly.

The Caterpillar sighed, exasperated, his antennae twitching with mild irritation. “Then let me put it plainly,” he said, his voice less dreamy now, more commanding. “This bit will keep you alive. So eat it, Alice. Now.”

Hesitating and a bit scared, Alice broke off a small piece of the mushroom. “Just a nibble,” she muttered. “And if this turns me into something horrid, I'll – ”

“You'll do nothing,” the Caterpillar interrupted, watching intently as she lifted the piece to her mouth and took a cautious bite.

The taste was cloyingly sweet, with a moldy undertone that made her gag. “It's awful,” she managed, swallowing reluctantly.

“You'll get used to it in time,” the Caterpillar said. Then, he exhaled another slow ribbon of mist. “There now. Keep to the path behind the mushroom – follow where the stems bend.”

Alice looked at the so called path. “Where does it lead?”

The Caterpillar's smile curled ever so slightly. “Don't you see? It leads to the forest.”

Without waiting for another riddle or smoky sigh, Alice turned on her heel, spine stiff with indignation, and stomped out of the clearing, the taste of the mushroom still clinging to her tongue like a vile trick. She paused just long enough to toss over her shoulder, “Thank you ever so much for your… insight.”

“Goodbye, Alice,” the Caterpillar called after her, his tone airy with amusement and the faintest trace of something else. Then he chuckled softly, as if enjoying a private joke.

Alice paced the clearing, muttering to herself as her stomach churned. “Well, that was helpful,” she said under her breath, not meaning it in the least. She glanced toward the looming treeline, where shadows curled thick between the trunks. “Not at all ominous,” she added, trying to sound braver than she felt. “Perfect weather for a polite stroll into probable doom. And now that I've nibbled on a funny mushroom, I must be absolutely invincible, right?”

Alice's steps were hesitant as she moved deeper into the forest, her senses thrumming unnaturally. Every sound felt amplified – the rustle of leaves, the creak of branches, even the faint hum of the air seemed to whisper secrets she couldn't quite catch. Shadows shifted at the edges of her vision, and the ground pulsed faintly beneath her feet, as though Wonderland itself had a heartbeat.

Her thoughts were no better. She found herself thinking,I should keep going. Just a little farther. They're waiting for me. The thought felt strange, as if it had slipped into her mind uninvited, but it was undeniably her own voice.

Alice shook her head, trying to clear it. “This is ridiculous,” she muttered, pacing a few steps. “Nonsense and mushrooms. Why, if I hadn't been chasing that Rabbit – or wrestling that dreadful doorknob – I'd have seen whatever it is I was supposed to see. 'Eat me, drink me' indeed! What rubbish.” She sighed, glancing around at the unfamiliar forest. “And why does everything feel like it's watching me? Trees shouldn't watch. That's hardly proper.”

The forest loomed, its towering trees twisting toward the sky like grasping hands. Their bark was gnarled and rough, riddled with deep grooves that resembled faces – screaming, laughing, or perhaps something in between. Vines draped heavily, swaying ever so slightly as though stirred by unseen breath. Bioluminescent fungi clung to the roots and lower trunks, casting a ghostly blue glow that barely lit the forest floor. Strange insects flitted in and out of the shadows, their wings producing an eerie hum. Somewhere in the distance, a low growl echoed, but when Alice turned her head, it was gone.

She took a shaky breath, brushing her hands against her skirt as though to steady herself. “Now, Alice,” she murmured, “there's no sense in losing your head over some noises. A noise is just a noise, and noises can't hurt you.” Her voice wavered, but she continued. “And even if they can, there's no use standing still and letting them catch up.”

She glanced around, forcing herself to observe the eerie beauty. The twisting trees seemed almost alive, their gnarled roots curling like claws. Tiny creatures flitted from branch to branch – things with too many legs or none at all, their movements unnervingly fast. Strange flowers glowed faintly in the underbrush, their petals curling inward like they were hiding secrets. Despite the oddity, Alice tried to focus on the details. “It's just a forest,” she whispered. “Just a strange, strange forest. Nothing to be afraid of.”

The forest opened into a small clearing, and Alice froze. Shapes shuffled in the gloom, their movements slow and disjointed. Their bodies were in the last stages of decay – flesh hanging in tatters, bones gleaming through gaps in their skin. Hollow eyes glowed faintly, fixed on her with unnerving intensity. Were they dead? She had read about such things in books, but these were worse than anything her imagination could have conjured.

There were five of them, their appearances vaguely familiar, as though they had been someone important once. One of them, a round-faced figure with a vacant stare, gurgled incoherently, his bloated form jerking as he moved. Another, thin and wiry, muttered, “Twinkle, twinkle… twinkle,” the words falling from his rotted lips like broken fragments of a memory.

A third creature, smaller than the others, gripped a rusted umbrella. She tilted her head at Alice, her jaw moving soundlessly as if trying to form words. A wet, choking sound came from another – a tall figure with a once-grand hat now torn and hanging in ribbons. He laughed, a low, bubbling sound, and muttered, “A very merry… un-birthday… to… to you…” before breaking off into an ominous groan.