AN: Ok, here's the deal, the muse for Alice just….died, that's all there is to it. Her character was brining me more annoyance that anything else so I had to let her go. I have decided to re-write her character out of the story and this will also be a prelude to other stories I have in mind for the marvel universe.
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1931
Thirteen year old Anya clapped and laughed with the rest of her family of the Wild Gypsy Rose Caravan. There was a blazing fire which the dancers where whirling and twirling around while their musicians struck up wild melodies. The sounds of the violins, guitars, and small hand drums spurred the dancers on to faster paces until ending in a dramatic flourish.
"Come on Anya, give us a story." Her uncle and the best violinist in the camp, called out. Smiling Anya placed her book, 'Alice in Wonderland', that she had received from her parents who stood with the other couples that had been dancing, down on the stoop she had been sitting on and walked up to the fire. It was said that Anya though only thirteen told the best stories and had become the official storyteller of the caravan, learning all she could from her grandmother who was the storyteller before her. She began her story as she always began her stories, as her grandmother had always done and all storytellers had done before them.
"When people told their past with stories, explained their present with stories, foretold the future with stories, the best place by the fire was saved for the storyteller." Anya smiled as she got a roar of approval that quieted down when she began her story, smiling at her young brother grinning faces. "This is the story of Sapsorrow…."
'Once upon a time there was a widowed king, who had three daughters. Two were as ugly and as bad as could be, but the third nicknamed Sapsorrow was as kind and as beautiful as her sisters were not. As time passed the King came to find that he yearned for a new wife….'
Anya spun her tale before the captive audience who hung on her every word, watching as she acted out the parts moving around the fire. She reached the end where the prince who had scoured the kingdom for the girl whose foot fits the slipper that was left behind at the last ball had agreed to marry Straggletag when hers was the foot it fit. At this proclamation, her pets stripped away her disguise for good and the two become happily wed.
The caravan erupted in cheers for their story teller, but it was cut short by gunfire ripping through the crowd without warning sending everyone who had not been shot down running and screaming. Nazi soldiers ran into the camp, bodies fell left and right as Anya's eyes widened in shock when she saw her father running for her only to be shot his blood spraying her.
Her mother had been one of the first to be shot while running for her little boys, lying next to the fire. Her brothers were next, huddled under a wagon, but they had been seen and killed. So many unseeing eyes gazed at her from the bloodied ground, so much death and so much loss. A bullet carved its way through her stomach sending her to the ground in horrible pain, tearing a scream from her throat, blood pouring through her hands as they clutched the wound.
"Why?" She gasped out as a soldier loomed over her with a disgusted yet satisfied smirk.
"By order of the Fuer all undesirables will be eradicated." The man shouted then pointed his gun at her ready to finish her off.
Anya's gaze went blood red as a wild feral roar erupted from her mouth fangs forming and claws ripping out of the tips of her fingers. She stood to her feet facing the Nazi men who starred at her in complete shock at the macabre sight before them. Blood, both her own and others, covering her body and her eyes a blazing scarlet red.
"What is it?"
"It's a demon."
"Kill it!"
They opened fire and her body convulsed wildly as the bullets riddled her body until she fell to her knees then to her side, blood pooling around her still body. The men finally stopped firing and one of them walked over kicking her over onto her back and starring down at her.
"Whatever it is, it's dead now."
Glowing red eyes sprang open making him stumble back as she stood with rapid speed pouncing on him tearing out his throat with her claws.
The men opened fire again, but she moved with unnatural speed weaving amongst them using her claws and fangs ripping them to shreds, even using their own gunfire against them until their blood flowed mingling with that of her people until no one was left.
The silence that enveloped the camp was deafening, no one but Anya was left alive. Slowly she started to walk amongst the dead, her feet making squishing noises in the muddy blood drenched earth. Her eyes looked from body to body, her family, her people mixed with their murderers.
She looked down at her bloody hands then her eyes fell to her book 'Alice in Wonderland' which had fallen open on the ground, the picture of the Cheshire Cat depicted on it.
'We're all mad here!'
She reached down brushing her bloody hand over the picture leaving behind bloody claw marks before snatched and rushed off into the woods leaving behind the nightmarish scene.