Down the Rabbit Hole

I remember the night of my twenty-first birthday.

My friends and I decided to go mini golfing that day. It was an old golf shack right off the highway, one that I remembered going to when I was ten or twelve. The actual mini golf course was rather small, and quite frankly one that looked run down on its slowest days. But it had its charm, of course, as it had a special wonderland theme that made you feel as though you lived through the stories of the dear Alice Liddell. I lived my youth going to the golf course almost every Sunday in the summertime, and every time I remember I would make my mom buy me a blue raspberry slushie afterward. After a few years, though, I stopped going entirely, enthralled in the other magical world of setting up for keeping a good high school record and preparing for college.

I wanted to bring that sense of childlike wonder back after so long, so I figured going back to a place that brought me joy. When my friends and I did actually go, it was like I had remembered… relatively. Granted, I was getting frustrated with the fact I couldn’t aim if my life depended on it, but it didn’t really matter in the long run. We were all having fun, and even went to the concession stand after for a few drinks. Wanting to spice things up a little, I ended up going for a watermelon slushie instead while the rest of my group found solace in their soft drinks. It was just as teeth-rottenly sweet as the blue raspberry one I used to have, and it brought me solace when I was young. I remember after our time together, my friends and I spent the next hour or so on the patio above the course, watching as it started to shine with the lights as the sun began to set. I looked down at the first hole, admiring the inside of the plastic burrow that covered it. With paintings of various items synonymous with wonderland, I wondered for a moment what it would feel like to fall into a large enough rabbit hole, losing myself to the whims of time and space.

Because looking back on it now, that’s what it feels like. I feel like I can remember the details of that golf course from the back of my hand, but as soon as I want to remember the faces of the friends I was with, I’m sadly falling into an abyss of nothingness.

Come to think of it, I can’t remember their names either, or even that of my own. In fact, the last thing I remembered before blacking out was trying to enter what I think was my home, only for the door to open abruptly to a black void.

I don’t remember much about my own life even as I felt myself regaining consciousness.

As I slowly opened my eyes, my vision was immediately blurred and dazed beyond belief. Almost as if I was shot at the temple, my mind numbed with a feverish pain. As I blinked a few times, I noticed I was sitting up on a seat of some kind. As the pain withered away and my vision started to clear up, I used some strength to raise my head.

I thought I was dreaming at first, but I guess that would defeat the purpose of what I was just doing. Or was I simply knocked out? Nonetheless, out of everything I was expecting, I didn’t think I would look up to see another set of seats across from me with a window that stretched all over the interior. Even though my vision was fuzzy at best, I was curious about the fact that these windows looked boarded up from the outside, trying their damnedest not to let any light in. Wanting to preserve my energy, I took my time to look to my right. With my vision becoming slightly better, I realized I was just at the edge of my own seat and was right next to a door that looked firmly shut. There was no window on this door, meaning I was stuck with the fluorescent lighting that flickered at every bump and slight jerk.

Was I on a subway, I wondered? What with how it felt like my stomach was churning as I felt myself rocking side to side?

As the ringing in my ears started to die down, I looked to my left. I was shocked to see a group of people on the other side of the car. They were all facing away from me, huddling themselves in the corner and discussing things that were beyond my range of hearing as the mumbling noise of the train continued to overpower my eardrums. With my vision finally clearing up, I was curious about who exactly these people were.

For I knew that unless I had lost all of my memories, I would at least have an impression of these people based on appearance alone. I could see a total of five of them together in their huddle: An older gentleman with white, thinning hair in formal business attire with a white button-up and dark suede pants that stopped just at the cuff of his ankles, looking down at his watch as he tapped his foot in annoyance. Next to him was a younger woman to be in her 30s with frizzy brown hair, and glasses that seemed to take up half of her face; Her baggy peach-colored sweater seemed to swallow her whole as she crossed her arms, only leaving her calves and feet to spare as she paced back and forth in her beige sandals, the flow of her floral skirt drifting in the breeze she made with her movements. Across from them was the rest of the group that sat in the other two seats, nearly looking identical to one another. Twins, I had assumed, from the way they both shared the same shaggy dark hair and green eyes, although one had grown his hair to where he put his in a small ponytail while the other kept his short and loose. The one with his hair pulled back was writing in a little notepad that fitted like a glove in the palm of his hand while the other kept on ruffling his hair, looking down at the ground seemingly frustrated by something. Lastly, there was a girl that sat on the floor at the very edge of the cart with her knees up to her chest, the long locks of her blonde hair and the reveal of her blueish-gray eyes every so often she lifted her head showed that she might have been in her early teens. Her clothes reflected that of summer weather as the hem of her white dress dropped at the crease where her knees bend, the little flower embellishments appearing to be falling with every movement as she fidgeted.

Soon enough, she started to notice me staring back at the group, pointing at me in silence as if to not cause a scene while the older man and the woman with the glasses started to bicker on something I couldn’t hear. When the woman saw the girl pointing and looking in my direction, she stopped her walking in shock.

“Oh, dear!” I heard the woman gasp as she started to rush to me. Her voice seemed panicked as she knelt in front of me, taking my arms into her hands and examining every single inch she could find. It wasn't until this that I noticed that both of us had one wristband on each of our hands, a singular black band that branded a glass screen similar to that of the older man’s watch. “Are you alright? You’ve been unconscious for a while, you know.”

I cleared up my throat as I felt a sense of dryness linger on my tongue. “What’s going on?” I asked.

The woman looked down as she must’ve figured that I was not injured. “I’m not sure. None of us are, really. We’ve all just woken up here,” She stared down at my wristband, examining the small glass pane. “Do you remember your name, by any chance?”

I sat there as I looked at my wrist with the woman, trying to contemplate our situation. I tried reminiscing, finding any sort of memory to cling on to recollect who I am. But to my surprise, it’s as if my find was like a TV at that moment, and the channels that I was scrolling through showcased nothing but an empty static hum. No family, no friends, no teachers or faculty that I could remember had popped into my mind. A blank slate, if I was.

I shook my head. “Do you?”

She looked up at me, her dark eyes holding a glint of frustration. “Nothing,” she stated. “We can’t recall anything about our lives, it seems. I suppose you're the same, aren't you?” I nodded. “Damnit!”

She stood back up again as the old man huffed. “Seems like your search is coming up poorly, isn’t it?” He said, his voice ever so gruffly.

“It would help more if you actually help us,” the woman mumbled back. “You seem to be very nonchalant about this whole ordeal we’re all in.”

“And what do you think we should do?” He asked. “We’re stuck on this train with no way of where we’re going or who we are, and there’s no sign that we’re going to stop anytime soon. The most that we can do is wait this out until something happens.”

“And what if nothing happens?” The short-haired twin interrupts. “What if we were just brought out here to starve and die off?”

“You think we were just brought on this train to be left alone?” His long-haired counterpart asked. “If you ask me, it would seem contradictory to how we are brought into this situation.” He brought his right arm up, rolling down his jacket sleeve to reveal another black wristband with the same small screen. “Based on what I’ve seen, we’ve all obtained this band from our abductors, and no matter what we’ve done, we cannot seem to take them off. If the abductors really wanted us to die like what you said, then what would be the purpose of these bands?”

Just then, a loud chime went off in the cart’s intercom system. As the speakers above our heads started off with a bing, bang, bong, bang, the rest of the group sat in surprise, including the young girl who took the opportunity to stand up amongst everyone arguing.

“Attention all players,” a female voice said from the speakers. “Welcome to Project: Wonderland. Here, you have been chosen by our game masters to participate in a series of challenges. The goal of these challenges is simple: Complete all the challenges prepared, or become the last person to stand amongst the party to win the game, and you are guaranteed your freedom. Failure to follow instructions on these challenges will result in proper punishments to be executed. The only exception to this rule is as follows: ‘Immediate dire punishments will be given to players who try to tamper or remove their wristbands.’”

I looked amongst the group to look at their reaction, watching as the lady looked at everyone in concern while some like the old man and the short-haired twin scowled at the speakers and the young girl looked in confusion.

The voice continued. “On your wristband, you will now be able to see a name that has been given to you by our game masters. These names will be your identifiers for the rest of the game. With further completion of your challenges, our staff can distribute more information about you and the rest of the party depending on your performance in the challenges ahead, so it is highly encouraged that you try your best to succeed. The first challenge that you have is simple: Find the key to the Rabbit Hole, and you shall be able to continue on to the next cart where you will participate in the next challenge. Good luck, players, and once again, welcome to Wonderland.”

As the announcement came to an end, the short haired-twin sighed in frustration, followed by the older man as everyone started to stand up from their seats. I continued to sit down as the rest of the group started to get riled up, looking down at my wristband. On the black screen, it now showed a singular name; “Hatter.”

“You gotta be kidding me…” The short-haired twin groaned.

“A game?” The older man huffed. “Do they think we’re five or something? A game to win our freedom? Give me a break!”

“Well, it is rather impressive that they got us all together for this,” the long-haired twin interjected, looking down at his wrist as he brought it up for him to see the screen. “Makes me wonder how long it took to even get details like giving us nicknames for this game.”

The older man looked down at his wrist, puffing and huffing as he dismissed the long-haired twin’s words. “You think that’s gonna make me wanna play this stupid game? I don’t care if they give me a name like ‘King’ or some bullshit like that! I don’t have time for this! I just wanna go home!”

“King” walked towards one of the windows, the frames still boarded up from the inside. So much for just sitting around and waiting until something happens. “Hey, let us out!” He screamed, slamming his fists against the window. He continued to shout obscenities on how he’ll sue them for all their worth, but no matter what, his words fell on deaf ears, and he was greeted with no response. Still, he continued to pound his hand against the glass, just as I noticed that the girl was backing away from him and behind the woman. Upon noticing this, I saw that the woman had instinctively used her arms to guard behind her, shielding the girl away from the scene.

Seconds had gone by, and already King had started to become more frantic, opting to punch at the windows repeatedly to no avail, only resulting in the bloodying of his knuckles from the amount of force he had put on them. “Damn it!” he shouted, gazing down at his fist in pain. He looked towards the rest of us, noticing something in the long-haired twin’s hands. He gazed back down at his wrist briefly, then stared at the twin once more. “Hey, let me use that pen of yours real quick,” He muttered.

The long-haired twin looked at King in confusion. “What? Why?”

“I want to try and get this stupid band off.”

“But you already tried that before. All of us did.”

“None of us tried prying it off from the inside. Now give me it!” I watched as King snatched the pen away from the long-haired twin as he moved back in shock, his short-haired counterpart stepping closer to him while glaring at the older man.

At the same time, King stepped away from the two, retaining his focus on the band that attached itself firmly to his wrist. With a deep breath, he slowly nudged the tip of the ballpoint pen into the inside of the band, wincing a little bit at how even the tiniest edge of the pen was tightening the blood circulation around his wrist. Still, he persisted. “Like Hell I’m gonna let someone control with a stupid-”

In just a split second, it seemed as though time had stopped itself. With a loud Bang! King fell to the floor in an instant, a puddle of blood soon pooling out from his temple as he laid there lifeless. Every scampered away from the body, watching as the pen fell from his hands and began rolling back to the twins’ direction. Only the long-haired one seemed to notice it and grimaced in disgust and revulsion while the other put his arms up as an immediate reaction, scared out of his wits. As the middle-aged woman covered the young girl’s eyes, she and I instead looked on in horror, and I in turn gripped the edge of my seat as I felt my heart drop to the bottom of my stomach. I could feel my breathing start to quicken, and it took me all my willpower to not scream in horror; The poor girl was already doing that.

The moment after that, I looked around to where the source had come from. I saw that in a brief moment, there was a shift in a small section of the door next to King’s body. I stood up and began to shakily move closer to it, fighting the urge to vomit as I walked past the corpse, the ever slight movement of the train as it headed to who knows where making me sick. It wasn’t until I got closer did I realize that while this door also didn’t have a window, there was a piece of wood that was just small enough not to be noticed, yet upon realizing the indents of the wood, it took me a moment to realize the possibility. Was someone behind here watching us for the right moment? Are they still behind here, even now?

Suddenly, the speaker came alive again. “Player “King” has violated a rule of the game: Any player shall be subjected to elimination via execution if they try to tamper or remove their wristband. Players “Alice,” “Hatter,” “March,” “Dee,” and “Dum” are still participating in the game. Player “King’s” body will be removed from the premises after the challenge is completed.”

As the rest of us looked on in horror, the voice continued with one last piece of advice before leaving us to our fate as the lights continued to flicker and hum a monotonous tune.

“The only way to guarantee your survival is to explore further down the rabbit hole. The answers you seek can only be found there.”