Chapter 1 – "Alice"
"Alexia…Alexia, are you even listening to me?" The girl didn't even twitch, and the Doctor sighed, leaning forward, resting his elbows on his knees. "I know you can speak." He knew for a fact she could – but it seemed she was intent on not doing just that. Before, when he'd asked her questions, she'd at least twitched, maybe muttered something – but now, she did nothing. He leaned back, his left arm crossing over his chest, while his right hand rubbed his face, stopping to rest on his brow.
They sat in silence for quite some time, the girl with her knees pulled up to her chest, and her crossed arms resting on top of them. Her chin was perched on top, dark eyes staring at the wall, and the Doctor's elbows found his knees. He rubbed his hands together, the calloused digits of his fingers sliding against one another. His grey hair was balding, green eyes faded, and skin pallid from lack of outdoors. Age lines cracked at the edges of his mouth and eyes.
"Do you like that book?" Not even a turn of the head to acknowledge what he was pointing at, to the bookshelf beside her, not far from him.
The entire place was made of five by five inch tiles, even on the ceiling, and the florescent lighting made everything glow. His white lab coat trailed the ground as he leaned forward to run his fingers over the mahogany shelf, taking a book from it. The leather bound pink tome felt new and smooth between his worn digits. "Do –"
"I'd give up if I were you Greg…" The voice that cut over the loud speaker made him jump, head whipping around to glare at the black window that peered into the room. He knew who was on the other side of the one way mirror; hoping the other man felt his animosity he quickly picked up the book, and returned it to its perch.
"Goodbye Alexia, I'll come by tomorrow." He smiled, trying to leave the room with a sense of self, and exited to enter the observation room. He leaned on the door, arms crossing, and scowled at Jeremy Blaire. "What the hell was that?"
The Murkoff overseer sneered at him, hand right next to the intercom, and hair greased back as always. When Greg sometimes saw Jeremy, he thought of a greaser who'd put on a suit, and become as 'respectable' as one could get, while still retaining all the bloodthirsty tendencies of adolescence. Mind you, he now exorcised his in a much more…Clean manner. "You know she's not going to spe –"
"You're going to die." The monotone voice that cut the gloom caused both of them to jump, two sets of wide eyes looking into the white walled room in shock. The girl was standing, hands behind her back, and leaning against the wall. Her deep brown eyes were looking at him…And Blaire. She was staring at him through the glass. Greg walked over, clicking the intercom.
"What do you mean, Alexia? Who's going to die?" He couldn't keep the quiver out of his voice, her knowing depths seeming to scan both of them through the black glass.
"All of you."
A-E-A
Alice counted the times the lights went out and flickered back to life –
One, two, three, the Jabberwocky's free.
One, two, three, the Vorpal sword swings.
One, two, three, it's time for tea.
She stood, spanning quickly the space between her and the door, waiting…Waiting for the Jabberwocky. It went snicker-snack! And thus she descended into the darkness. Unafraid, she stepped out into the hallway, her toes becoming sticky when her foot found the cool floor. But it wasn't so cool anymore, now it was warm, and her heels felt tacky as she looked about. The doctors in their white coats littered the crimson flood along the walls, and shadows down the corridor.
Her eyes took it all in, knowing their fate, and walked down the hallway. She knew the way out, like a mouse in a maze she had to find the way out, and it was up. Alice left behind her red prints, the lines of her feet unmistakable as she made her way around a corner. She stopped though, her back hugging the wall, when lo! – She spotted the Jabberwocky. Its form was skeletal and black, with eyeless sockets, and wide canines. It slipped out of existence and into another, cycling into a vent while never noticing her.
Alice jogged down the tunnel, finding the lift she knew would be there, and stepped inside. The lights flickered again, no doubt the doing of the beast in the depths, but she could not face it yet she knew.
She touched her dark locks, seeing her reflection in the stainless steel walls of the elevator, and combed her fingers through them, frowning at the knots. She had no time to be vain – not that she really was – but they hurt…Whenever someone touched her head and tugged, it hurt. That could be a distraction. She could not afford those.
I must find the Vorpal Sword…
Shouldn't I?
Alice heard the soft ding, her gaze flying upward, and she exited quickly. The Female Ward was covered in more red, spanning the walls and floor, around the bodies, and she wondered if she could blame it on the card soldiers. No, the soldiers were killing one another, some eating themselves, and others hurting one another. Wonderland was falling apart, and yet everyone was more intent upon killing one another than trying to fix it. What was the point?
Alice navigated the halls with an ease that was odd for one who'd never walked them. She turned a corner into a wash room, one with a bizarre white dress. It was too long though, too bright – The Jabberwocky would see her coming.
She stood back, examining the front, and frowned. Too long, how would she run? She tore it so that her legs would be exposed, just two inches above the knee, and then walked around.
I need something dark…
There were black pigments in the corner – perfect! The lights flickered here as she toiled to the horrid orchestra of screams, clanging metal, and the ill splatter of something morbid across the walls. Alice stained it black, rubbing in the darkness, and searched for something more. Stockings in the wash, with a garter, and there was something else. Her brow furrowed. It was an obscene letter – written from a woman – to Jeremy Blaire.
Obviously, this tryst had never come about, for the letter was stained in more red. She found a pair of knee high black boots, these would do, and best of all they were flat on bottom. A heel is too much noise, too much indeed. She'd need something durable she knew – to face the journey ahead. Alice pulled on the dress, ridding herself of the bandages about her chest, and although it was deemed 'small' it was proportional to her frame that barely broke five foot four. She rolled up the stockings, and then the leather boots came on.
Any woman would have put on makeup, and maybe if she were normal, were somewhere else she might have. But this was neither the time nor the place; she was ready, now to face the Jabberwocky.
No, I need the Vorpal sword…But where is it?
Alice made her way out, tip-toeing down the hallway, and wearily dodged spots where the floor creaked. She slipped out of the Female Ward, down a set of stairs, her hand sliding through the crimson that painted the railing. It was dark here, too dark, but where was here? She heard a crash and then a bang. Without the Vorpal sword, she had no defense. What to do?
Alice felt around, her heart beat quickening a little, and slid under a desk-like structure, the sticky touch of blood dripping onto her nape as a door splintered. It came down with a roar, her eyes barely peeking from the gloom. The Queen of Hearts, in all her unchained glory, the tethers of her prison shattered around her wrists. But was it a she? No! But still, this could no doubt be the Queen, a head dangling from his paw.
A monstrosity was he, but no doubt that ruler of Hearts, so malevolent and grizzly. "Off with her head!" She remembered he'd said, not long ago, when she'd arrived in her Wonderland. Was it his, or was it hers? Perhaps the Caterpillar could answer her, once she'd found him.
The behemoth that was Queen circled her refuge, once, twice, but did not find what he sought. The head trickled more iron smelling red, those eyes fathomless, and mouth agape. Was that horror etched on its face, or surprise? Perhaps it was both; she cared not now, for she had to find the Vorpal sword, to slay the beast before her friends were harmed. What did she care, if the Queen killed his Soldiers? They killed one another, ruthlessly, if not more so than he!
Eventually, the Queen left, carrying with him his prize, and she slipped free of her hiding place. She walked now, among the cards and hearts, to find her lost blade. But even then, would she be ready to fight the Jabberwocky in its foul lair? There was only one way to find out…
She climbed into a vent, slipping inside, and found that it went up. Positioning her knees, and grabbing with her bloody, sticky, slick palms, she scaled higher. Alice went on for quite some time, shuffling through perhaps floors of monstrous card soldiers, before finding a vent she sought. Another vent door, this one much narrower, and she unhinged it quickly. It took time, but she eventually slipped into the new, strange room. Was she back in the Female Ward?
Like a mouse stuck in a trap, had she taken the wrong passage, and doubled back unknowingly? This room was long, barren, and lit. Columns and lights spanned its long expanse, the other wall covered in the shafts of another vent. Surely, this might be the right path to take, or perhaps not. Was it a trick of the Jabberwocky? No, it was a cunning creature for sure, but it could not plot this intelligently ahead. It was hunting, was the black beast she so despised, trapped in the ethereal, and unknown – searching, screaming for release upon this world. This could not be allowed to pass!
She paused; spying a distraction, surely she might be allowed to sate the itch that grew in her toes, ankles, and feet? The White Rabbit was always late, but how could she be late when she had no sense of time? Alice walked over to the device, one she knew well, a black thing with honey comb eyes and a rectangle mouth. The left wall, past the columns was windows, but they could also serve as a mirror. The room was so tall and lonely, with just the noisy vents, and this one little solace. Might she fill it with one happy memory?
Alice pressed a key on the face of the black creature, enticing it to sing for her, and it did. She smiled joyfully, knowing this song in her bones, and moved to the center of the room. The columns, for all their mighty worth, could be her partners in this solo performance. She held up her arms, one to her 'partner's elbow, and the other gripped the hand. Alice took her steps, slowly circling around the room, gracefully sliding between pillars, and her eyes closed. She danced this Waltz with no one in particular; perhaps she had at one time, but now no more.
She felt eyes upon her, pausing in her stride, almost back where she'd started in the center, and reopened her eyes.
There he was, a man she could barely see. Alice stepped up to the windows, putting her right hand against the cool surface, and peered at him. All she could see was a pair of ghostly blue eyes and a vest… She could see the white of his smile too, the way his irises flashed, and shone with a plethora of emotions. Delight, affection, and unyielding desire. She tilted her head, for in them she saw something else, something more…Loneliness. The figure tugged at her heart strings, and she smiled sadly at him. He could see her far better than she could see him.
Alice wondered if she should not break journey to meet the fellow, he could be one of her friends, trapped in this place. Should she take the detour and hope it was he? Could it be?
The M-…
A crack sounded behind her, her head whipping around as the door gave way, and out popped several suits of Clubs. The lights flickered out, the music stopping, and she chanced a glance back to her companion – too far away to be of assistance. His eyes had taken on a mad glint, fists smashing against the windows on his side, and she looked away to dart into the gloom. The columns that had at one time been her dance partners were now her guardians, giving her places to hide and scoot. Each of the Soldiers wielded a machete, or a club of metal.
She turned her eyes upon the vents on the other side, where they wandered, whooping and calling; as if she would appear to them of her own free will. They knew she was here, had spotted her upon entry, and without her blade she was defenseless. Alice slid, not on all fours, but on her heels across the floor, using the shadows to her advantage. One of them circled a stone column, his eyes shining like the cat's irises in the rays of the moon. This one was a three of Clubs.
Alice circled him as he wandered from the others, away from her destination, but she followed him, bringing him further into the darkness. She stood, back pressing to the cold body of stone farthest from the windows, but closest to him. She grabbed the hard corner of the block, running, and jumping into the air to slam her legs into his face. There was a sickening crack as he fell back. Two in fact, one for his nose, and the other for his head. This caught the attention of the other two, who rushed back, and started beating on their compatriot. She knew why not, but she took his slimy, grimy blade, and used the shadows to move for the vents on the other side of the room.
They caught wind when she was half way there, a rattle from her improvised weapon across the ground alerting them to her presence. Alice ran, leaving her crouch, the pillars screeched when the metal of their clubs scrapped across their surface, sending amber sparks flying. The race was on and over before it had begun, her smaller form vaulting onto the vents. She pulled herself up, up, and up again – far from their reach. And into the light.
The vent she perched herself upon, above her pursuers, was bathed in florescent light, and she turned her vision to the man. She still could see nothing but his ghostly blue eyes, their glint alighting on her form, and she saw him smile once more. Her palm was stained in red, so she lifted her hand, and rubbed her finger tips in it.
With her pointer finger, she traced a heart on the surface of the glass, withdrawing slowly, and without another glance behind she slipped into the vent – and on with her journey. She never saw the look on his face, the utter surprise and adoration, or the despair that engulfed it when she disappeared from sight…
A-E-A
Alice slid down the vent, down, down, then up, and back down. She reached forward, but lost her balance and fell, head over heels, down a particularly wide tunnel, landing on her bum, and groaned. When she opened her eyes, they dilated, and her nostrils flared. Panic seized her. Something metallic rubbed her arm, grimy, and rust covered. She retracted from it as quickly as she could, the sharp metal making her shudder at its texture.
"Damnit Alice!" The girl cursed, looking around the cramped space she now occupied. "What have you done this time?!" She looked down at herself, hissing. "I hate dresses…" Alexia sighed, leaning down, and looked about. Her feet and legs were going down another vent shaft and she grumbled; rearranging her body she could crawl down it. Although not claustrophobic by nature, she didn't like having her knees cramp the way they did. "Alice, if you were a real person, I'd have kicked your ass long ago…" Alexia muttered darkly to herself. She dragged the odd machete thing behind her, unsure of why she was dragging it to begin with, but continued to with doubt nagging at her.
"First, you get me put in the crazy house, then you get me force fed, and I have a horrible gag reflex!" Alexia continued to rant as she came to a vent cover. "…Lovely." She pulled the blade out from behind her, shifting in the vent, and causing a shit ton of racket moving around. "This is where you come in my rusty, ugly friend…" It took her ten minutes to unscrew the damn thing, and then came the tricky part. She got close to it, pressing both her hands to its freezing surface, and shoved. Nothing.
"Damnit…" Alexia twisted around, putting her back on the floor, and honestly hoped no one would walk in…Could someone see her underwear like this? "Like now is a time to be modest." She muttered, lifting her feet to where it looked like she was in the fetal position, and slammed them down on the grate. It creaked, buckling, and she was sure she heard it give a somewhat loud screech. She winced.
I really hope no one heard that…
Twice more, and her ankles were hurting a little, but the grate was nearly off. Rather than turning back over and hoping her arms could get the job done, she just pushed her feet into it again. It gave this time, flying off the opening, and slid a solid three feet away. It rebounded off the wall, sliding diagonally to lie in the middle of the floor. Alexia shimmied out, sitting up, and grabbed the machete from out of the vent.
"You know, next time you wanna spring from the crazy house, Alice," she snarled, "you could just – I don't know…Use doors?!" She frowned, knowing that the security on her normally wouldn't allow for that.
I wonder how she got out…
Alexia stood, looking around – urinals. "I would end up in the Men's bathroom." She groaned, moving for the door, and honestly hoped – if this was an escape attempt – that no one would see her. The door knob was cool as it slid under her palm, the wood creaking as she stepped out into the hallway. Squish!
"Hu-" Her gag reflex went wild, her wide eyes taking in the man that was clearly torn in half. She'd stepped on his intestines, in his sticky blood, her booted toes catching his spine. Alexia yelped, falling forward, and almost got a face full of more guts. She caught herself on her arms though, scrambling back and away, the middle of the hallway at least not covered in someone. Crimson soaked the carpets, painted the walls in gory splashes, and people's insides splattered the expanse of everything. She turned, crawling rapidly to somewhere, anywhere but there, and forgot her weapon.
Alexia stopped when she'd reached a landing, this one not so covered in blood, and hugged herself. She sat on her legs, a sob escaping her, and fell on her side to bawl. There was blood on her to; she hadn't noticed it at first.
Alice just spilled juice again, that's all, just like before, when she couldn't put the straw in and she got it on everything. You woke up sticky, and it was pink and red, and you were so pissed that she spilled it on the furniture and the floor. That's it; she just spilled juice…All over those people. People torn in half, people with head's missing or bashed on the walls –
"You can't stay here you know." A voice purred, suave and sure, so much surer than she felt right now. Calm and completely serene, in control, not afraid like she was, not terrified in the slightest. "You need to go below." A black body entered her blurry vision, emerald eyes looking deep into hers. "Such a difficult child." Something soft rubbed her face, tickling her nose, and she sniffled. "Used to be so wild…"
She used to be. She used to think everything was interesting and wonderful. Where had time gone?
"I'm going mad…" She whispered.
"We're all mad here." She rubbed her eyes, sitting up, and found that her visitor was gone. Alexia gave a weak laugh.
"He always is…" She stood, patting out her dress, and frowned. "Well, where to now?" She knew she needed to get out of this place, to escape, but how? The thought of escape though…Didn't appeal to her. "What?" She snapped, waving her arms. "Of course I should get out of here!" Her eyes found the bodies in the hall, gulping. But still, something nagged at her.
"What am I missing?" Alice would know; it was probably some crazy, hare-brained scheme of hers that kept her here. She sighed, grumbling, and crossed her arms.
"It's here! Walrider, in the dark, hearing, seeing – Doctors…Touching! Shut up, shut up, the voices – Walrider!" A voice called from down the hall, the windows blurring his outline, but there was no mistaking the odd appendage coming off of him. Something bad. Alexia scrambled, tempted to go down the hallway she'd come, but she'd been told to go down!
Damnit, think!
A barricade…It was tall and the furniture large and strong, she might be able to slip through. Alexia immediately made her way over, practically slamming into it, and she saw the man pause…listening. She inhaled sharply, looking around – there!
She got on her stomach, squeezing like a mouse through a small opening just as she heard the man come around. She cursed, tugging her legs through, and snarled at the dress she'd been put in as the man dashed at the barricade. She gasped, her foot just clearing the opening when he'd grabbed for her, his blistered arm swinging madly at her as he lay down, trying to get her. Alexia stood, smashing her foot down on his hand, and smiled triumphantly at his cry of anguish.
He stood, his malformed face appearing grizzly, and her eyes widened. "Not my best idea…" He smashed into the desk and book shelf, roaring with vigor, and Alexia bolted down the hallway he'd come from. She found the stairwell quickly, jerking the handle. Locked.
"Motherfucker!" She hissed, her voice taking on a high pitched quality. Wasn't it illegal to lock stairs like this?! Alexia looked around, still hearing the man, beast, whatever he was, going at the barricade. She dodged down another corridor, her skirts lashing at her thighs, and evaded the bodies that covered the floor. She smashed into the window at the end, hoping, but knowing somewhere in her mind it wouldn't work.
Of course!
She entered a room, pausing to let her eyes adjust, and blinked several times. Computers buzzed brightly, the Murkoff symbol bouncing around the screens, and a few employees lay with their necks split open. Alexia inhaled sharply, closing her eyes tightly, and shook her head.
Gross doesn't even begin to describe this…
Alexia turned when she heard a loud thundering crash, going to shut the door she tripped on a dead guy, and fell. It mostly shut, but her head was against the wall, her eye peaking out, and she made to stand. But she stopped, hands poised, and elbows tense as a figure came into view. Her breath caught.
It was a behemoth, large, tall, and muscular. Chains wrapped around his wrists and ankles, boots caked with gore, and form just as bloody. Alexia trembled, her throat hurting when she gulped because of the angle, and he slowly turned. She ducked back, the flash of his white filmed blue eyes trapped forever in her mind.
When she heard the impending clank of his chains, and the thunder of his foot falls, she knew she had to hide. Alexia scrambled into the dark recesses of the room, her back hitting the inside of a desk loudly, and she had just enough time to pull a chair in when the door crashed in.
Her eyes remained wide, breathing slowly but heavily, and cold sweat beaded along the side of her face. It was like the time she watched Jurassic Park and the kids had to hide in the kitchen, praying the Velociraptors didn't find them as they made their rounds. The boy and his sister scrambling between cabinets, trying not to make noise, only to finally trap one in the cooler. But there wasn't a huge freezer here with a reinforced ten-inch thick steel door, although somewhere in her mind, Alexia doubted that would have held him.
He paced, round and round, his knee knocking into the desk that held her. Alexia's head clunked against the back of the desk as it rocked from just the graze, sending the chair clattering against the wall, and her breath hitched. She resisted the urge to clap her hand over her mouth, which would make too much noise. "You were here, weren't you…Little pig."
Alexia's teeth clenched, her jaw starting to ache when she heard his heavy foot falls, could hear the squish of them over the carpet, and the tell-tale chains that clinked against one another. He neared the door, his shadow trailing over the floor to reach the opposite wall, and she closed her eyes.
She sat there for an hour maybe, the ticking of a clock somewhere in the room slowly driving her insane, or maybe it was keeping her sane. Alexia slowly came out, her back hurting from resting on the hard wood, and made her way out cautiously. The door…The door to the stairwell was unlocked! It was open and she was home free and - !
She stopped, at the mouth of the hallway, her hand poised, as if she were reaching for it from this far away. Alexia slid onto her belly, crawling to the stairway, the carpet under elbows chafing her skin. It was too perfect, too obvious, as she slid like a snail down the stairs to the next landing. She tried not to make too much noise as the hard edges of each stair dug into her elbow, jamming her funny bone, and she hissed.
She stood once she'd made it, casting a glance back – no one. She supposed the big man could have opened it, if the crushed handle was any clue.
Alexia made her way down, looking around, and saw a hallway – leading to double doors. The outside. She jogged forwards, scanning the open doorways, and made sure no one was going to leap out and hack her into pieces. The young woman grabbed the door handle, jiggling it. Nope. She sighed, looking up –
"Darling!"
"Holy - !"
Alexia jumped so hard she fell on her back, her head spinning, and she groaned. "Oh, Darling, are you alright?" She lifted her head to the panicked ghostly gaze of blue. She blinked, once, twice.
"What?" Her brow furrowed, her hand instinctively flying to the back of her head to rub away the sharp pain of collision.
"I've been looking for you Darling, since I saw you dancing; I knew you were the one for me! I've searched for hours!" His grin was unnerving, and Alexia felt her eye twitch.
This guy is insane! Wait…Hours? Why do I feel like I know him? Alice, you can't tell me that you went and made some psycho your boyfriend! Oh, I'd kick your ass if I could!
She felt a connection, however slight, but he was talking again. "Come along Darling, we're going to get married, and have a baby! Start a family!" Her eyes widened.
No. No. No. No.
Alexia didn't want kids. She'd never wanted them. She didn't have the patience for them. Now this guy was talking like he knew her, thought she was his fiancée, and wanted to...to…to elope with her and have children! But there was no doubt of the connection, the feeling, and those eyes…Those lonely blue skies.
She remembered gazing into the fluffy white clouds, guessing what they looked like, on her back and with…with someone beside her. Alexia didn't know when it had happened, or how she'd done it, but she was on her feet. Her hand was pressed over the cool glass, fingers spread, but it wasn't cold...
It was getting warmer, because his hand was against hers, barely an inch of glass separating them. Her dark eyes were warm, looking into the cold lonely depths of blue, like the deep azure before a blizzard. There was something malevolent in his eyes though, a glint that wasn't fading, but it was different. A crash sounded, breaking her from her trance, and her head lashed around to find several men coming up the hall.
She cursed, running into a room, and entered another hallway. The man was yelling – she hadn't even asked him his name – and she halfway wondered if she shouldn't dub him 'Darling'. Alexia would have laughed if she could spare the breath, as she barreled down a corridor, splattered with more blood. Everything smelled like iron, piss, and something volatile. She heard Darling, yelling and screaming something – things that sounded angry, beyond angry.
He sounded pissed, explosive, he was yelling at the men.
"I'm going to kill you! She's MINE. Stay away from her!" He was howling, the sound of glass breaking, and the splintering sound of a door. Although she was thankful he might be trying to protect her, he was still a psycho, weird bond or not – and the words themselves made her shudder.
The hallways were long, winding, and she felt like she was in a maze, an endless labyrinth. Her legs felt weak…Why was she growing dizzy? That's right, she hadn't had anything to drink or eat in hours, she was getting exhausted, and her knees were giving out.
Alice, how could you wear me out so fast! Don't pass out; don't pass out…Keep going. If you stop you'll be beaten, raped…Die. Keep going. Don't pass out.
Then she heard it, she was in a hall she didn't know. Had she been going in circles? Her head lashed from side to side, trying to see where he was coming from. She ran for doors, shaky, sweaty hands grabbing at door handles, twisting, jerking, and slamming. Her shaking palms threaded into her hair, tears pricking her eyes.
Where am I going? What am I doing?
Everything was swirling in and out of focus, nothing was clear, and she needed to escape. Or she needed to find something… Her mind was screaming, she needed to focus, and the rattling of chains was getting closer. The thudding, squishing – bad, bad, bad… And then it was crystal clear, spiking through her mind.
Clank.
She was shivering violently, her lip trembling as she turned her head, and there he was. His face and form shadowed in that light that shone directly above him, his white filmed eyes wide and murderous. Alexia stepped backwards, and did the only thing she could think of…
She screamed:
"DARLING!"
A-E-A
I find it hilarious that the 'prettiest' Variant in game is also the one who's the most psychotic. Anyway, I tried not to rush anything in the story. I first wrote it and then added detail, which made it even longer than it was originally – which was a little over five thousand words. This is an Eddie fiction.
The trouble I have with writing OCs is making them believable and wholesome. Making an OC is very difficult sometimes because some just don't fit, and I've seen too much of the habitual Eddie falling for a woman who used to be a doctor, but he learns to love or becomes different (in some cases, a little less crazy). Not that there's anything wrong with those, I actually enjoy them. I just wanted to do something a little bit different.