Chapter One

The first thing that the cat was aware of was a dull throbbing pain in the back of his head. He then noticed that he was cold and, more importantly, wet. The next thing that creeped into his awareness was the smell of dirt, grime and other nasty things that he didn't want to dwell on. He slowly opened his eyes, blinking several times to clear his vision, hoping that the world would stop spinning in such a disconcerting manner.

Fear suddenly overtook him as he realized that he had no idea where he was or how he had gotten there. He struggled to get up in a mad panic, but his limbs refused to work properly, causing him to flop about like a landed codfish. It took a few moments for him to realize how silly he probably looked (clearly this was undignified behavior for a cat), so he stopped moving in an effort to regain his composure.

After taking a few deep breaths, he slowly sat up, discovering more bruised bits of his anatomy along the way, and assessed his surroundings. He was in an alley way of some sort, littered with broken crates and barrels. The cobblestone ground was covered in puddles of what he hoped was mud, and of course he had been laying in the middle of one of them.

With a snarl of disgust he gingerly hobbled out of the puddle, trying to shake the worst of it off of himself, causing his fur to stick out in untidy spikes. The urge to groom was nearly overpowering, but the thought of cleaning himself only to get more of the filth on him when he tried to leave this place made him shutter. He just need to get home so he could tidy up properly and then...

The cat froze, mid thought, as he realized in horror that he didn't know where home was or even what it was... He didn't even know who he was. This was impossible, how could he forget himself? He needed to see himself. The cat scanned the refuse scattered about the alleyway until he found what he was looking for, a broken looking glass.

He peered into the cracked surface and couldn't shake the feeling that something was completely off about it. Despite the filth covering his fur he knew at least his coloring was right, a mackerel tabby with a dark brown undercoat (he wasn't quite he how he knew this, he just did), and his large green eyes seemed somewhat familiar.. But something was missing (besides his identity) and it felt terribly wrong.

He pressed a paw against the glass and was started at the fact it didn't go through. He shook his head in puzzlement. Why should he think that he could pass through? The cat sat down heavily, trembling at the cold, wanting to be somewhere warm and dry even if it smelled of pepper. Again the cat paused, confused by his own strange thoughts. He had to find out where he was and how to get home. He couldn't just stay here wallowing like a Mock-turtle in it's soup. He stood up, despite his aches, and carefully crept out of the alleyway out into the street.

As he stepped out towards the road, he was assailed by a cacophony of humans hustling and bustling about. His ears flattened against his head in an effort to block the noise out. 'It's noisier than Hatter's tea party,' he absently mused to himself before suddenly realizing this was another scrap of memory. The cat pounced on the thought, hoping to pin it down and examine it. Unfortunately it slipped through his paws like mist.

He didn't have time to dwell on his fleeting memory, as he was nearly trod upon by a large pair of boots. He ducked out of the way, and had a mind to give the oaf who nearly trampled him a severe tongue lashing, when he suddenly felt something strange. It was if something, some invisible force, had grabbed hold of the center of his chest, and was trying to pull him towards it. This alien sensation frightened him, but he didn't know where else to go or what else to do.. The cat followed the pulling force, leaving the alleyway behind.

The cat clung close to walls, dashing under any available cover, as he followed the beckoning force. It led him on a zig-zag path through the city, going up and down alleyways, along store fronts and down winding streets that twisted and turned so many times it made him dizzy. He began to doubt that following this unknown force was such a good idea, but he kept going. He was sure he was going to be led to someplace dreadful, but he didn't stop. He started to doubt his sanity at this point. Only someone who was mad would do such an continue on a path that surely lead to some sort of unspeakable doom.
We're all mad here...

Another fractured memory of him saying these words to.. someone. The cat shook his head in frustration as he turned to another alley, but slowed down as a sense of foreboding overtook him. There was something bad in the alley with him. He could feel it in the tips of his whiskers.