Author: Tdfgh1 PM
Dorothy and the crew and sent by the Wizard to kill the Witch. But instead of marching down there unarmed and defenseless, they arm themselves as a precaution. Scarecrow is beginning to remember things,and the Lion is a courageous drunk. This is how things would have went.Rated: Fiction T - English - Chapters: 3 - Words: 2,971 - Reviews: 4 - Favs: 1 - Follows: 4 - Updated: 06-30-12 - Published: 06-01-12 - id: 8174251
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I'm now an assassin, thought Dorothy as she, Toto, Scarecrow, Tinman and Lion headed down to the army surplus store. She wasn't really considering killing anyone – even if it was the Wicked Witch of the West. She wasn't psycho to bear it, it was bad enough her house landed on the sister.
But still, it was good to be prepared.
For a small town farm girl, the store was both horrifying as it was fascinating. There were ghoulish masks with insect eyes and elephant like nose pieces, explosives that looked like limes, devices that launched explosives, and a whole assortment of handguns, assault rifles, and other...stuff that Dorothy couldn't even identify. And the people that roamed the isles; there were Nazi looking Gale Forcers in black and green uniforms, chatting in rapid Gillikin that sounded German, and greasy Munchkins and Quadlings that looked like the folks that Auntie Em would warn about constantly. And the Animals! Shifty looking things with darting glances, moving quickly through the store as if in a hurry to get out.
"Lets just get this over with." muttered Lion, heading for the refrigerated area that sold liquor. Tinman headed after him, rolling his eyes.
Dorothy wasn't looking to go on the offensive. She skipped past the areas selling grenades, serrated machetes, and guns and picked up a bottle of pepper spray and a C-2 Taser Stopper. It was for self defence, she told herself as she read the warning on the box: Overuse may cause Death. They met at the counter, using Scarecrow's money that he earned while working as a scarecrow. He had bought hollow point bullets for his pistol, goodness know why he thought that necessary, Tinman got engine oil, and Lion was carrying bottles of some obscure, brownish liquid, one in each paw.
"Oh I do hope this doesn't end in disaster." said Dorothy as they left the store. "I mean...we're not actually going to hurt her are we?"
Scarecrow shrugged vaguely. "If it comes to that, then there's not much else we can do. Preferably it won't."
"You have to remember that the whole point of this trip is to kill her." said Lion, taking a swig from one of the bottles. "Good god, we're gonna die – you know the Witch is probably going to make it ironic too." he turned to Dorothy. "She's probably in the midst of making a replica of your house so she can smush you with it."
"We don't know that." replied Scarecrow, almost defensively. "For all we know, she has no idea we're coming. We could be barging in on her one night while she's sitting at home, reading a book. It would be more like a home invasion on our part."
"I couldn't imagine it," said Tinman. "I mean really, the "Wicked Witch of the West being afraid of us? Of all people?"
"Well," said Dorothy. "We've got a drunk Lion with claws the size of my fingers, an immortal Scarecrow with exploding bullets, a Tin Axeman and...and I have no idea how to use a taser – what if I accidentally get her in the head and ending up frying her brain?"
"You'll be decorated at the EC for Bravery and Civil Justice." said Scarecrow jokingly. Or maybe he was being sarcastic."You'll be the first woman captain of the Gale Force."
"But I'm not even a woman!" exclaimed Dorothy. "I'm twelve for Christ sake! What was the Wizard thinking, making me into some assassin? He should have picked someone who'd been beaten as a child. Or better yet, a full on SWAT team."
"I can protect ya Doro'y." said Lion, beginning to slur his speech. "To hell with courage, I got claws! I could rip 'er bloody face off if I wanted to!"
"Thanks for the offer." muttered Dorothy. "But don't get too ahead of yourself. Unless the Witch makes a move, we're not trying anything - I mean, I did kinda squish her sister. Even if it's no more my fault than it is Toto's or the dining table that managed to stay in the house, I'd still like some closure."
"Dorothy's right." declared Scarecrow."Whatever the Wizard's demands, I don't any of us could...could kill someone like this, it's murder! Even if it's the Witch of the West."
Lion muttered some rough, drunken response and Dorothy looked up at him uneasily, worried. Who knew what he might end up doing in this state?
The sun was setting by the time they reached the border of the City. But instead of having to find a barn to sleep in, Scarecrow suddenly perked up, looking around at the run down area of city, as if recognizing an old friend. He guided them down a couple of streets, using the alleyways behind apartments and restaurants before stopping at the back door of wooden, warehouse of a building that smelled like old paper and disinfectant. His eyes were gleaming in delight at the sight.
Tinman used his axe to hack off the chain lock before hauling the open the swollen doors to reveal a set of muddy stairs, covered in strange, brownish footprints. Dorothy stared at the prints, curious. They were small, and narrow and smudged like a woman's stumbling, frantic steps. And as for that coppery colour...it didn't look like mud.
"Um Scarecrow..." began Dorothy. "What is this place exactly?"
"I – I don't know!" he exclaimed. "But at the same time I do, I used to come here all the time – I just know it!" He started up the stairs. Dorothy, Tinman and Lion all exchanged wary glances before following, avoiding the footprints. The smell of bleach based disinfectant grew stronger with every step they took, so by the time they reached the top, they were mostly breathing through their mouths, squinting through the dim light. Scarecrow opened the door to reveal an apartment of sorts. It was mostly empty, with a beautiful, overturned table, made with dark wood and carved so each of it's legs represented a different animal. There was a small cot off the the corner, a few scattered milk crates and most shockingly, a crumbly skull of an elephant, with dried roses spilling out of the top like brains. The display was mounted, somewhat crookedly to the far wall so it seemed to watch over the whole room.
"It's an abandoned corn exchange." said Scarecrow excitedly. "You see?" he pointed to a gaping hole the high ceiling. "That used to be a broken skylight."
"My god, did you live here?" asked Tinman, looking distastefully at the elephant skull.
"Maybe, I can't say but I remember this place, I know I do!" Scarecrow sat on the cot, running his hands over the old, dusty sheets. Then he stopped, his eye caught on an object between the wall and the far side of the bed. He slowly reached over and pulled out a cloth – a scarf by the looks of it. He held it in his lap, staring at it with wide eyes.
It was a black scarf with green fringe and roses scattered in the background.