I am finally done. Had to leave out a few parts of what I already wrote, but that's alright. It's material I could use later on. Anyways, enough of my blabbing. On to the story. And if it's a little confusing... well, that's how it's supposed to be.

Disclaimer: I do not own the Diamond/Joker/Clover/Heart no Kuni no Alice franchise. I do, however, own the narrator of this story whose name you'll find out later on.

Prologue

Everything felt wrong.

My head hurt. My body ached and felt like lead. It was wrong. It was all wrong.

But I couldn't explain why I felt that way; I just knew. It was instinctive knowledge. Not intellectual.

Maybe it was the fact that my head felt like it was going to split right open. The pain was so intense, so invasive, that it was maddening. I felt like I was losing my mind both literally and figuratively. Or maybe I already was mad; I wouldn't be surprised if I was. Breathing was also hell. Inhaling and exhaling made my chest hurt. It felt like I was taking in fire into my body instead of cool air.

Everything felt so wrong.

There was noise all around me, but at the same time it sounded muffled. Loud, filtered. People were shouting. Yelling. Some people sounded calm, as if they were addressing an extremely dangerous individual who needed to be talked down. Others sounded panicked, unsure of what to do and demanding that someone else do something. The last group of voices sounded angry, threatening. It all blurred together that I could barely comprehend it. The only thing I could grasp were the emotions behind those words.

I tried to figure out what they were saying, but the more I listened the more it became incomprehensible and I just gave up. There was no point if I couldn't make any sense of it.

There were other things to worry about.

Like how hot every thing was.

The heat was so intense that it was practically unbearable. It felt like everything was burning. And it didn't feel like it was going to stop any time soon.

There was something in my mouth. It was wet and it tasted like copper. Or was it metal. Both? Copper is a type of metal. And for some reason it hurt.

I could barely think, a concept that I found disturbing. I prided myself on my mind, since my constitution was weak and any attempt to try to improve it just made things worse. With my body out of the question, I had to focus on sharpening my mind into lethal weapon to make up for my physical failings. The fact that I could barely focus was worrying. I tended to do things I regretted if I wasn't... focused.

"…rie!"

Though my mind was a haze, grasping at something… anything to get back to coherency, that incomplete shout cut through my mind like a hot knife through butter. That voice. It sounded familiar. It belonged to someone I was close with. A friend… no, that wasn't quite right. Close, but not exactly right.

But they meant something to me. They meant a lot. I just couldn't recall who they were or why they meant a lot.

I knew their name. But as of the moment it was lost to me.

I wonder why.

But just as soon I began to wonder about that, my mind started to fade back into that foggy haze. Desperately, I tried to hold onto that... whatever it was. It was the one thing that made things bearable, even if it was just for a little while. But it was no use and I found myself sinking into that state of pain, and disorganized and mismatched thoughts that made absolutely no sense.

Just as I was about to give up, a voice I heard with perfect clarity cut through the fog once again.

"My, my. This is quite the mess. I'm surprised that you can still think."

Unlike the incomplete sentence earlier that had been a temporary reprieve, I could hear this voice as well as if they had spoken right into my ear.

...

...no. That's not right. It sounded much closer than that. I had the feeling that no matter how hard I tried, I would never be able to escape this voice. No matter how much I ran or moved from place to place, they would always be there. There would be no out running them, no matter what I did.

But I felt the pain subside to something akin to non-existence with their presence. It was still there, but it wasn't consuming my mind entirely either.

It was... a god send.

At the same time, though, I couldn't help but be wary of this intruder.

"…that's because I'm in your head, silly. Kinda hard to escape someone who lives in your own head."

If I had doubts about my insanity before, this little encounter pretty much confirmed that I was going mad. Or was already insane. I didn't quite feel like a raging lunatic who wanted to destroy everything in my path, but I was certain that hearing voices did not bode well for me at all.

"Well, you certainly aren't very far off."

I could hear a hint of sardonic amusement in the voice's tone. Whoever they were, they were definitely amused by my mental state. Or should I call it my lack of mental state?

"As of the moment, your state of mind is in shambles. Dangerously so."

Well... it cleared things up at least. I was certain it could account for the fact of why thinking straight had pretty much become an uphill battle.

But...

If I had a hard time thinking coherently back then, why wasn't I struggling now? Or did I go so far past the point of no return, that my mind went on a bender and immediately returned to the land of clarity because there was no where else to go but back?

"I'm sure it doesn't work like that."

The voice definitely sounded amused now.

"But to answer your question, I'm the reason for your temporary moment of sanity. But once I leave, it'll be like before. Maybe even worse."

...

I did not know how to feel about that. I really had no idea. But as of the moment there were other things to ask. What I wanted to know more than anything else was what was going on.

How did I end up in this state?

What was I doing now?

There were about a million questions I wanted to ask, but those two were the only ones that I could think of. But as soon as those two questions left me, I found the response to them... quite jarring.

My interaction with the voice had been semi-friendly so far, but the next reply pretty much erased whatever amiability I thought the voice had.

"That's not important."

When the voice suddenly switched tones, the fading wariness had returned. The voice's new tone was cold. And clinical. One that belonged to someone who would just casually go up and kill you without a second thought.

Why not? I had a right to know what I was up to... and what made me this way in the first place.

"..."

There was no reply, but the pain was beginning return with an unholy vengeance. Before I could tell whoever the voice was to start giving me the answers I wanted, a chilling laugh filled my head.

And then all of a sudden I was aware.

Pain surged through my mind a second time and the disturbingly familiar sensation of my head splitting open hit me. Dizzying scenes seared themselves into my brain at such a rapid pace that I barely had time to comprehend one memory before my mind moved on into absorbing the next. If I suddenly died from a brain hemorrhage right now, it would probably be a relief.

As soon as the memory bombardment stopped, I instantly came to regret wanting my memories back.

"It's too late. The only think you can do is watch."

I remembered everything. Or if not everything, most of what was going on. What I had been doing the entire time. What I was doing now. The blood. The screams. The apathy. The all-consuming feelings of rage and anger as I lashed out and got revenge on the people who had taken away what was valuable to me.

I would have preferred if they just killed me out right instead.

It hadn't been fair. It still wasn't fair. But what I did in the face of that reality wasn't right, either.

It was me, but at the same time it wasn't me. I hadn't been in control the entire time, but it was still me no matter how much I wanted to deny it. The entire time I felt like a spectator in my own body. Detached, but aware. Watching and knowing what was going on, but being controlled like a puppet on strings. I saw and I knew, but I wasn't the one who was telling my body what to do.

And I knew that the voice was the responsible for it all.

Especially

Oh, Gray. I'm so sorry.

I felt like I was going to be sick.

I blinked and my vision flared an ominous crimson red that reminded me of blood. Most of the red faded away, but remnants in the form of dots and splatters remained, an ominous reminder of what I had done. Though my vision was somewhat compromised, I could now see.

The Role Holders… what were they doing here?

I didn't have time to wonder about why some of the people I hated the most in this world were gathered in one area when I realized that I wasn't alone. And I wasn't talking about the voice in my head.

Someone was standing close to me. Unnervingly close as I could not only hear them breathing, but feel them too. Judging by the heavy breaths as well as the small choking sounds coming from them, they were panicking.

I sensed fear. Despair. Frustration. Other emotions that threatened to overwhelm me. The desperation to survive and the futility of that survival.

My mouth and throat suddenly went dry and my stomach sank as I realized with horror exactly what I was doing. The person was so close I could literally feel them against my skin. My left arm was wrapped tightly around something, but it was what I was holding in my right hand that grabbed my attention. In it was a hard metal object that felt ice cold. An object I could immediately identify through touch alone.

I was holding a gun. And it was pointed right at someone's head.

And what was on my left...

Soft. Warm. Breathing.

Whether it was out of dread or renewed horror, my own breathing quickened and I accidentally inhaled what felt like hair, immediately coughing afterwards to clear it from my face. As I did so, I caught a glimpse of the colour and that familiar feeling of wanting to throw up returned with full force.

There was only one person in all of Wonderland right now who had the colour of brown blonde hair. Someone who I admittedly was not fond of.

Alice Pleasance Liddell.

The feeling of dislike between the both of us was mutual, but never in my wildest dreams did I think that I would ever be holding a gun against her head.

That's a cut! Admittedly, I wrote more than this but this seemed like a good point to stop. Any more and it doesn't really strike me as being a dramatic prologue any more. So here is good. I can recycle the rest of what I wrote for later chapters down the road.

Like I mentioned above, it's supposed to be a little confusing. Since the story is being produced from the narrator's point of view, they way this is written should hint at her current mind of state. Also, good luck trying to figure out what the hell is going on at the moment. Because even our protagonist/narrator has no idea either.

A number of things should be revealed in the next chapter, by the way.