Hello there and welcome to this little one-shot (?) of mine. This is one of my earlier works which I revised and everything. I do need to put a warning here for there is content in here which is not for everyone. There is death and sexual assault in here, nothing too graphic of course, but still. So be warned and be careful.

I do not own Alice Madness Returns, nor do I own Alice in Wonderland. I only own this story and the imagination I used to write it.

Don't forget to review please!


All of it was wonderful, every smell, every sound, everything was almost too much for her as she watched him fall with the utmost satisfaction. How his body fell backwards towards the train tracks and after a second his head hit the rails with a painful crunching sound. Wonderful. She could hear the train coming closer and closer, the rails started to shake. And then he realised that he had only seconds left in this world. And she too realised that he had only seconds left before his miserable life in this world would be over and that there would be nothing left but bits and pieces, and some blood here and there.

She could see him look at her with sheer anger and paralyzing fear in his eyes as his hand reached for her. He wanted to live, he wanted to ruin more children and sell them of to whoever pays the right price, oh how he wanted her. Even though she was so different from her lovely sister, even though she was as mad as a hatter, even though she just sealed his fate.

And then it was gone.

The feel of his hands on her shoulders, short hair tickling the back of his hands. He could feel the bones underneath the fabric of her dress. Such an innocent yet possessive touch. She was so different from her sister that it was a new kind of adventure, a whole new world to discover and ruin. He needed a whole new map to find out how to destroy her and make her his, and it was difficult. More difficult than he thought at first, but then, he liked a challenge every now and then. And this was one he definitely liked a lot.

How she looked at him with slight disgust but obedience as he told her to pick up the pills from the High Street Chemist. And she did get them and took the pills, one with every meal. Such a lovely and obedient pet she was. He remembered how lovely she looked while lying there in the chair, eyes closed and brows scrunched together in an uneasy frown. She was talking about that rabbit again, that one with the waistcoat and pocket watch. Then there was that mangy cat, the one which bothered him the most. Always here and there, never visible but always present. Alive yet dead. He would ruin them all, get rid of them all until only she herself was left there all alone. All alone in a new wonderland, in his wonderland where he would keep her all to himself forever and always. There he would touch her, touch her with the same hands that touched her sister. Her beautiful and lovely sister.

The thought of how his hands went up her legs and wrenched them open forcefully, how he granted himself access to her soft rosy skin in the pale moonlight peeking through the curtains. Her eyes shot open and looked at him, still drowsy with sleep yet alarmed at the feel of someone with her in her bed woke her. But it didn't matter to him as he tore open her nightdress and heard the buttons fall on the floor. Her eyes focused on him and he saw her preparing to scream, but luckily he was prepared. As soon as she opened her mouth he propped a piece of fabric between her lips to keep her from ruining everything. He swiftly tied her hands to the bedrails and returned to tearing her dress off.

So beautiful.

Her chest was bare for him to see, and his eyes drank in the sight greedily. His fingers ran down the protruding collarbone down towards the slope of her breasts until they reached the pink buds. Tears started running down her cheeks, and her head twisted to the side. She refused to look at him, and it angered him. He pinched her nipples painfully, twisting and pulling while his nails dug into the sensitive skin. Her eyes shot open and a muffled scream left her followed by hiccups. He continued to run his nails down her skin roughly and felt her muscles quiver. Her legs were thrashing around his hips and she tried to get away from his touch, but it caused him more sick pleasure. He felt such satisfaction from seeing her tears and hoped that she was scared, because he was too. Ever since he saw her waiting for her father outside the university he was no longer human, and she was everything he could think about.

He wanted her to struggle more, reject him more till she came to the point where she had no other choice but to accept him. To have her moan and cry at his touch was the ultimate goal for him. He smiled as he pushed inside her fast and hard, and he felt the warmth of blood on his cock. He stifled his own laughter as he fucked her without abandon. Her breasts moved on his rhythm of in and out, and then repeat. The sounds coming from her were louder and louder and at that point he slid one of his hands between her legs until he found that one spot he dreamed about. A different kind of cry came from her this time and he watched with pleasure how that fearful look on her face turned into one of hatred with the slighted look of tainted pleasure. It was all absolutely wonderful, every smell, sound and sight was too much for him and he felt his orgasm coming closer. His hands moved over her mouth and nose to try and block the cries from his beloved. He spilled his seed inside her and stars danced behind his eyes in an unnatural pattern.

It was at that point that he realised that the young woman underneath him wasn't moving. He couldn't do anything but look at the corpse beneath him with his cock still resting inside her. She was more beautiful than ever now, and when he looked at her eyes he saw the now soulless green in the dim light and he felt something wet on his cheeks. But when he thought that he was crying he found himself laughing silently. So this is what it feels like, how would he ever get enough of this? Never, ever without this again, and so he cleaned her up, put her into a new dress and folded her arms over her stomach with the utmost care. Now she was just sleeping, floating in dreamland far away in his own twisted mind where she would be forever his. He lifted his hand and let his fingers gingerly touch her now cold cheek. And there it happened right before his very eyes. Her hair, which was so beautiful in the moonlight turned a dark colour and the soft waves straightened out in short locks. Around the eyes soft dark circles appeared and the skin became a more sickly pale than the soft shade it was before. Her lips, which were so rosy and soft before, were now pale and chapped. The body turned thinner and thinner and the collarbone protruded sharply. But her eyes, which he has yet to close, turned a brighter green, seemingly alive with life a corpse shouldn't have. And that was when his fingers hit the still warm cheek of a girl he didn't yet know.

And then it was gone.

She tried not to laugh. Her tummy hurt, but she kept the laughs and giggles in. All that was left of him was some blood left on the rails, and here and there a piece of flesh and bone. Even with all her efforts a small giggle bubbled up her throat and escaped her pale lips. In her hand her sisters key, this was revenge for her and their parents. For all those other children which have been ruined by him and would've been ruined by him if she hadn't just pushed him and killed him. This was for Wonderland, for Rabbit and Cheshire. But mostly for herself. Evil such as this will be punished, most preferably by death. To have him hang from a rope while she and the crowd watched was not a bad idea, but when she saw her sisters key hanging from his pocket watch she just snapped. He didn't break his neck and choke on his own spit as he dangled above the ground but he got torn to shreds by a train, which wasn't a bad alternative. He didn't get to be some sweetheart for a half-wit bruiser in jail while waiting for his trial, but he paid for his crimes. She felt better instantly and for the first time in years it felt as if she could truly smile again. With her back straight and head held high she didn't even look back at the remains of that foul and evil man as she walked up the stairs back into the light. She had freed herself from the asylum using her own mind to save Wonderland and herself from the Red Queen and her minions, and now she had done it again by removing the Doctor from her live. Free, that was how she felt. As if she could burst into butterflies and fly away into the sky in search of everything.

But it wasn't freedom. Not in that sense. Not in the way of everything being alright and peachy perfect with Wonderland and her mind restored and everything back to the way it was. Things had changed, she had changed, Wonderland had changed, and now the city changed as well. Tall mushrooms grew out of the buildings and gaps in the pavement. Dice and dominos were scattered across the streets and some floated around in the sky. That what was once a grey and boring scenery was now brightly coloured with all the colours of the rainbow.

Her Wonderland, the world where she had tea parties with Hatter, Dormy and Hare, painted the roses red with the tree guard cards. Where she found a large smiling cat in a tree, a caterpillar smoking heavily while seated on his high seat. The games she played with the Queen before everything went mad and got turned upside down. The Duchess that had wanted to eat her for mad girls are good for the skin.

Her city, her Oxford, her London, the world where she had lived happily with her parents and sister, where she went to the slide in the park with her father, where her mother often scolded her for jumping off high places, her sister who would read to her under the tree. The asylum and Dr. Bumby, places she would rather wish to forget, but she now knew the worth of the memories and their suffering.

"Ah, Alice, we can't go home again. No surprise, really. Only a very few find the way; and most of them don't recognize it when they do. Delusions, too, die hard. Only the savage regard the endurance of pain as the measure of worth. Forgetting pain is convenient. Remembering it, agonizing. But recovering the truth is worth the suffering. And our Wonderland, though damaged, is safe in memory…for now."

"Seems like it, Cheshire, but is there a way then?"

"Perhaps, perhaps not."

"Speak up cat, if you know something then say it. As you know, there is more than one way to skin a cat, if you pardon the expression."

"Hmm.. Perhaps we should first drink some tea first, it has a calming effect which might be something you could use at present."

"How about a cup of Darjeeling? Last I heard Hatter had a fine one, and some cakes as well."

"Ah, I would like some cake. Well then, let us go, go to Wonderland."

And then it was gone.