Hi there! Me again! My second story! :D

I'm still working on Blood and Stitches but this story was digging inside of my head, so I had to write it out.

R&R please!

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The Mad Hatter

Chapter 1 Mad

Two…

I know you'll be the first person reading this, so could you perhaps gather everyone and read these words? What I have to say… Let's just say it needs to be heard throughout the Sanctuary.

Did you get everyone? Let's begin.

Well, well… I had never thought that I would be saying this to you. Or any of you, for that matter. But it had to be said. Mind you, what I'm saying is the complete truth, and it might be harsh…

But there's nothing like a little improvement, now is there?

I hate this place. I hate every single nook and cranny of this Creator-Forsaken Hellhole. Honestly, I can't even fathom how I can even possibly stay sane for this long.

Yesterday, Nine met up with me in the workshop when Two and Five were gone. He was ranting on and on about how much this place was perfect and how we needed everyone's cooperation to make this place 'better for all stitchpunks'. I never wanted to punch his face in so much until that very moment.

But he's not the only one that needed some major work:

One: You claim to be a leader. You claim to be our salvation, our hero. Yet it seems like you did nothing to earn that title. What have you done? Besides kill one of your own? Yeah, I've heard the story. You do nothing but cower behind your fool of a guard, and sit upon your throne of lies. You're a coward. Hiding behind your own lies that you fabricate with your very soul.

Two: …You raised me. You taught me everything I know. You also said to me that I should be a leader, not a follower. How does it feel to be a hypocrite? You follow One blindly. And yet… You were rewarded with death. Just to please your so called 'brother'. Two… You are the best thing this place ever had. Don't let One ruin it.. That's my advice to you.

Three, Four: What can I really say about you two? Other than two scurrying rats that some how end up where you're not wanted. Someday, that'll bite you in the ass. Big time. Your cute appetence won't matter to those that dare haunt you. Your minds hold knowledge dear to the long dead humans, but what good does it do for us? It's hard to repeat mistakes that never belong to us in the first place.

Five: Grow a damn backbone. For once grow consideration for yourself rather than others. Maybe you might actually survive next time. You know pain. You know horror. You know agony. Be proud of that. You've seen more things with one eye than most have with two. But that pain has consumed you. Turned you weak. Perhaps it was the pain, perhaps it was just One, it doesn't matter. Think for yourself.

Six: You're crazy. There's no two ways about it. Yet you were always… Intriguing. It's a shame no one listens to you. You've always had potential. Speak for once. Maybe someone will listen. Your eyes have known not much other than your paper and visions that consume you. Look up. At the sun, hidden behind the dusty clouds. That is your ink. And this world is your canvas. Use it.

Seven: You're a bitch. A rebellious tyrant. You stand for yourself, which is good. But how long can that mask last? What'll happen if it breaks? Listen doll, you take away your spear and your helmet, and what do you have? Another weak doll. You put on this act to try and stand against a corrupt leader. Over time you depended on that act. Without it, your weak.

Eight: Big, stupid and gullible. You probably can't understand half these words in this letter. You're better off not knowing. You magnet- addict. You use one's status to get what ever you want. Take away your sword and your magnet and you're nothing.

And last but never least, Nine: As I stated before, I hate you. You're too naïve. You have a Pandora Complex the size of One's ego. You need to listen to my words, fool, living in this world with your eyes as tightly shut as yours won't get you anywhere. This place is hell. You need to realize that. You can put plenty of pretty bows on this place and say it's home. But it'll always remain Hell.

Why am I saying this? What happened to the innocent little 703 you knew not long ago? She's still here. She's just opened her eyes. She saw the world for what it truly is. How? I don't need a reason. There is no such thing as a 'sanctuary'. Here, or anywhere else for that matter. You all need to see this, as well.

Heh. Your little girl's gone mad.

How does that make you feel?

You might never see me again. If you do, it's most likely going to be my stitched up body, molding on the ground. With a huge grin on my face.

Goodbye and farewell. Fools.

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703 sneaked into the workshop with the dreadful letter in hand. To was sleeping on the workbench, hands gripping on a trinket that he previously was working on. He looked so peaceful. 703 chuckled. He won't be for long. She placed the letter on the bench and placed a rock paperweight on it. Two twitched and 703 froze. He shuffled for a bit, but then calmed back down. 703 walked out with a huge grin plastered on her face and without any regrets.

When she finally walked outside the church, she tensed. She promised herself that she wouldn't turn around to face the life she's leaving behind. But she did. She whirled around to stare at the place she's called home for most of her life. She thought this whole tough-girl façade would evaporate quickly and she would abort the whole plane and forget this ever happened.

She only smiled and gave a loud roaring laugh.

703 has truly gone mad.

She turned to face the road ahead of her and started walking, chuckling the entire way.