Hey, readers! I no… my fourth story. In psrticular, my fourth start of a story. Don't get me wrong, they are definitely still being finished, but ya. I'm one of those writers. The kind that starts stuff…and starts stuff…and starts even more stuff. But they will all be completed! Maybe not in a timely fashion… but completed nonetheless! So… my muse has inspired me recently (more like hit me over the head anytime I tried to think until I wrote this) and I have decided my mind mess needed to be copied down accordingly. So I was thinking what if some of my favorite evil hotties all got stuck in wonderland (or underland) with all of their female heros? So I have concocted a list of them (ps, it's pretty long, I am aware, but I had to limit myself anyway, so NO CRITISISING!)

JARETH (Labyrinth)

CAPTAIN HOOK (Peter Pan, 2003)

JACK SPARROW (I KNOW, he's not an evil character, but I couldn't leave him out! He's ummm AWESOME! PS, He's from Pirates of the Caribbean for all of you who live in boxes.)

LOKI (Thor and THE AVENGERS)

CUTLER BECKET (also POTC)

Yes, some of them don't have female heroes to hate (but secretly LOVE!), so I have created some of my own for them. Anyway, as you have noticed NONE of them are actually from Alice in Wonderland, so madness will ensue. HAPPY READING, AND MAY THE STORY BE EVER TO YOUR LIKING! *squeal* I have always wanted to do that! I'm thinking TRADITION! (ps, it's my variation of the Hunger Games slogan. Once more with the box people!)

Opps! Hold up! Before we roll, here is my disclaimer: I SUCK AND DON'T OWN ANY OF THESE AWESOME STORIES!

Prolouge:

It all started on a crisp, chilly New England morning. It was late afternoon, at the point of time between the bright afternoon and iridescent sunset. For, although many others would have you believe otherwise, these moments are the most magical times of day; they are transitions. It was during one of these fleeting moments, in which the sun poked through the trees of a small, deserted park that held a home to a rather large grove of willow trees. And if one were to make their way to the center of that particular grove, they would come across a shimmering pond, paved with cobblestone along the sides, and complete with a small stone bench.

This was no ordinary pond, however, for it housed no life. Not one growing patch of algae, nor any cattails lining the banks. No fish swam within, or frog croaked and splashed. It seemed as if God himself had forbidden any living thing to grow there, and it held a sort of aura that demanded respect and reverence. It was cloaked in a cape of mystery, and not a soul had stumbled upon it for years. Yet there it sat, undisturbed and unquestioned.

Dear readers, this is the sort of place that mystical things take place, adventures begin, and tales are spun. And it so happens that our story began here as well.