Another excerpt from the editing of Wonderland! Enjoy.
Past the threshold of the island, into the depths of the jungle, through unfamiliar overgrown territory, it occurred to Shiloh that Fate was perhaps as ironic as it was an opportunist. For she was struck not by the raging violence that was known to inhabit the wilderness, but the vast, overwhelming loneliness. It was a quiet day, a thick, eddying tranquility saturating the perfumed air. She stopped in a sweeping glade to look around at the rippling wildflower emptiness, and a haunting nostalgia came over her. In that moment she truly felt how haunting the beauty of Paradise was, like a fairytale under a curse.
Because even on a silent, peaceful day, the silence represented the fact that no human life thrived here, and the why was a tragic, bloody memory trapped in the quietly blooming hush.
A terrible secret, that only the flowers knew.