Chapter 6: The Maker’s Curse

Devereux’s hands trembled as he watched Avra. She was so close to the door, so close to falling into the trap he had created but could never fully control. He hated himself for what Wonderland had become. He hadn’t built this place to harm. No, it was supposed to be beautiful, a sanctuary where dreams could thrive.

But something had gone wrong.

Wonderland had taken on a life of its own, twisting his creation into a labyrinth of despair. What had started as a world of wonder became a cage, trapping not only the lost souls who stumbled into it but Devereux himself. And every time someone new entered, they brought their own fears and sadness, feeding Wonderland’s hunger.

He had tried to stop it. He had tried to warn them. But no one listened.

Avra was different, though. Or so he had hoped.

She wasn’t like the others who had come before her—those whose greed, anger, or despair had consumed them before Wonderland could. Avra had light, resilience, a fire that had withstood the shadows longer than anyone else.

But Devereux knew the truth: no one could resist forever.

He had seen it happen too many times. Coworkers, friends, people he once called family—every one of them had succumbed to Wonderland’s pull. The worst part was watching the life drain from their eyes, their movements growing stiff and mechanical until they were nothing more than lifeless dolls. Statues. Trapped in grotesque, eternal stillness, scattered throughout Wonderland like macabre decorations.

Devereux clenched his fists, his nails digging into his palms as he took another step toward Avra. “You don’t have to do this,” he said, his voice cracking with desperation. “Please, step away from the door.”

This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

Avra turned to him, her expression unreadable. Her hand hovered over the door, trembling slightly as though she were struggling against an invisible force. “They need help,” she said softly, her voice laced with sorrow. “I can’t just leave them here.”

Devereux’s heart twisted. She didn’t understand. Wonderland wasn’t asking for help—it was demanding another sacrifice.

“It’s not what you think,” he said, his tone low and urgent. “Those voices… they aren’t real. They’re fragments, echoes. Wonderland uses them to lure you in.”

Avra shook her head, her jaw set. “I’ve heard their pain. I’ve felt it. How can you expect me to turn my back on that?”

“Because it’s a trap!” Devereux snapped, his voice rising. “You think you’re saving them, but you’re just feeding the thing that’s destroying them.”

For a moment, the two of them stood in silence, the whispers swirling around them like a storm. Devereux could see the doubt in her eyes, but he could also see her resolve.

“You said you created this place,” Avra said finally, her gaze piercing. “You’re the reason they’re here. If this is your fault, then maybe it’s your responsibility to fix it.”

Her words hit him like a physical blow. She was right, of course. He had built Wonderland. He had drawn people into it with promises of wonder and escape, never realizing the cost.

“I tried,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper. “I tried to fix it, to stop it. But the harder I fought, the stronger it became. Wonderland doesn’t let go. Not of me, and not of anyone else.”

Avra’s expression softened, but only slightly. “Then why stay? Why not let it end?”

Devereux looked away, his jaw tightening. “Because if I leave, it won’t just end. It’ll collapse. Everyone and everything inside it will be destroyed. And I can’t…” He trailed off, his voice breaking. “I can’t let that happen.”

The words hung between them, heavy and suffocating.

For the first time, Avra saw the cracks in his armor—the guilt, the sorrow, the overwhelming weight of his own failure.

And yet…

Avra glanced at the door again. The whispers had grown faint, but they were still there, tugging at the edges of her mind. She could feel the pull, the promise of answers just beyond her reach.

She looked back at Devereux, her gaze steady. “You didn’t mean for this to happen,” she said softly. “I believe that. But it doesn’t change the fact that it did happen. And if you won’t end it, then maybe I have to.”

Devereux’s eyes widened, a flash of panic crossing his face. “No. Avra, please—”

But before he could finish, she turned back to the door. Her hand moved with purpose now, her fingers curling around the cold, pulsing wood.

“Avra!” Devereux shouted, his voice raw.

She didn’t hesitate. With a deep breath, she pushed the door open.

A blinding light spilled out, engulfing her in an instant. For a moment, there was nothing but pure, searing brilliance. Then, slowly, the light began to fade, revealing what lay on the other side.

Avra stepped through, unaware that with every step, the faintest traces of color began to drain from her skin. Her movements became slower, more deliberate, as though an invisible weight were settling over her.

Behind her, Devereux fell to his knees, his head bowed. He didn’t need to see what was happening to know.

It had started.