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What Must Be Done

Title: What Must Be Done
Author: stripesco04_nur 
Characters: Mad March, Hatter
A lump formed in March's throat, but that didn't lessen his grip on the knife. He knew what must be done…
I don’t own Mad March nor Hatter. This was written for creativity reasons…
One of my general stories… This is more of an inside story of March’s first kill of an innocent Wonderlander. Very short so don’t expect too much!


He was gasping for air, leaning against the cracked wall and wincing as he thought about the little body resting on the floor.


A sweet lovely daughter of Wonderland's voice had whispered as he had stood over the recently slashed body of her (adopted) father.
He had whirled around in a frenzy, gripping his knife tightly in his hand, blood dripping unceremoniously from the dark patches  soaking through his jacket.
A tiny body with a big head and huge brown eyes blinked widely up at him.

"Papa..?" She whispered unsurely, her eyes blinking rapidly as she glanced from March to her now deceased corpse of her father.
A lump formed in March's throat, but that didn't lessen his grip on the knife.

He knew what must be done.

Without remorse or thinking there was swish of rush air and a thud as the girl's body fell to the ground.
A tiny sob broke through the stillness and the girl clutched at the gaping wound in her chest.
March stood over her, a firm resolute of what must be done filtering through his mind as her tiny body heaved with heavy thick sobs. He raised his knife, ready for the deathly blow that he would force upon her tiny body, when she raised her head up and her eyes bore into his own.

"W-why?" She stuttered, blood dripping from her tiny mouth.

March faltered, and his grip around the knife lessen a bit. His body trembled a bit and the knife slid through his sweaty hands before logic grasped his mind and his fist tightened more securely around the object.

"I'm sorry..." He whispered; his accent unnoticeable as the girl shivered underneath his gaze...


His head swirled up, and he willed his heart to stop thumping so madly.

Hatter stood staring at him, his eyes wide as he took in March's state; rust colored fingerprints smeared across his face and a dark spot somewhat
dry and flaky on his jacket. Even his blue eyes were lowered and darker, no laughter appearing in the usual twinkle that his eyes usually carried...

"What happened?" Hatter asked softly.

"Tea..." March croaked, his hands trembling slightly.

Hatter frowned and March snarled at his sluggishness, "Tea now, Hatter! Damn it!"
Hatter flinched and said thickly, "Which kind?"


Please leave anything!