Author's Note: Semi-sequel to the 'Ciel in Wonderland' fanfic. The characters' roles are a little bit different from the OVA's Ciel in Wonderland, but only because I wasn't aware that Ciel in Wonderland was going to be animated before I wrote the fic.
Disclaimer: Through the Looking Glass and What Alice Found There is property of Lewis Carroll. The original idea and concept of 'Ciel in Wonderland' and series Kuroshitsuji belong to Toboso Yana.
"And my soul from out that shadow that lies floating on the floor.
Shall be lifted- nevermore!"
He read over the last word once, twice, three times. He didn't know the definition of the word, yet he could explain the meaning perfectly. He had never heard the word, yet it felt so familiar. Alois read over the passage again and again, then, at long last, reached up and creased the page.
He laid his head against the armchair's cushion, blonde locks falling into his eyes like an avalanche as he listened for a moment. The night winds howled vengefully and snow was falling in thick sheets; probably just a blizzard. His eyes meandered towards the grandfather clock in the far corner of the room.
Not a minute past the eighth hour.
In four hours it would be midnight, and that meant it would be November 5th, his birthday.
After dinner he had gone upstairs and had stayed in the library with a stomachache caused from eating too much of Claude's yummy grilled beef. Instead of taking medicine, he decided to wait it out in the library by reading.
Even though he really had nothing else to read, he refused to go back downstairs; so he perused the room instead. The library was dark (due to the fact that it was nighttime and the shades weren't drawn) but he wasn't disturbed by it. In fact, the only thing he felt at all was bored.
He had finished the book of poetry in his hands only a few seconds ago, but he had only been skimming it to begin with. There were multitudes upon multitudes of other books in the library, like In a Glass Darkly, The Legend of Sleepy Hollow, and An Occurrence at Owl Creek Bridge, all horror stories, of course. But he was too bored to read any longer, and instead, he traced invisible lines with his eyes on all the walls. Every crevice caught his attention, but all he saw were dark, empty spaces.
Claude had come up two hours ago with tea, but he hadn't drank it. He wondered now if it was cold. How long did it take for tea to get cold anyway? Did it depend on the kind of tea? How could you tell how long it took for the tea to lose its warmth? Surely, someone wouldn't keep their finger on the hot cup until the cup cooled to find out.
Alois shifted the book, looking at the cup Claude had left with a large frown. Then, almost carelessly, he dipped his index inside the porcelain cup.
The liquid was cold.
He retracted his finger, sliding the digit across his tongue to lick up the blackened droplets. It even tasted cold, as expected. He frowned again, deciding Assam tea wasn't exactly tasty when it was cold and pushed the cup away from him, rejecting it.
His head lolled to the other side of the chair, crystal eyes scanning the floors until he saw something dart quickly past. Sitting up straighter, he noticed a cerise spider, scuttling across the carpet. Its long legs barely traipsed the carpet's fibers, and the spider traveled in a jerky, clumsy and distorted way, seeming as if it would trip over itself at any moment. Its gait was so strange Alois couldn't help but smirk wickedly, laughing at the creature's maladroit stride.
"Claude dislikes killing spiders," he went on to say, talking only to himself and the darkened walls. "He thinks it's disrespectful to 'tarnish the elegance' of the symbol on the Trancy family crest." There was a certain amusement in his voice that made it seem as if he was poking fun at his butler's words, and he was. Despite all this, he continued to study the spider, and soon realized it was a female, as it was carrying a sack.
He watched the spider a while longer in mild amusement, examining it as he did. He constructed mental notes, mapping its movements. From his studies he was able to note that the creature was a red spider mite; a spider known as a pest for gardeners. In no time at all, he mentally began referring to it as the "Red Queen".
Even though the creature had intrigued him for some time, he eventually tired of it; and with a snigger, he stood up from his armchair, set on killing it. He allowed the spider to crawl to the top of the fireplace mantle before going after it, envisioning all the various ways he could go about killing the thing.
Careful to avoid the ongoing fire, he clambered to the top of the grand fireplace's mantlepiece, and something caught his eye that he had never seen before.
An oval mirror glistened and shot his reflection back at him, but he paid it no extra attention, as the spider was entangling a small string of silk around the mirror's skinny legs.
Bringing up the poem book he had just wasted time over, Alois brought it over his head and smashed it down onto the spider with a small squeal of joy, seeing it flatten, dying in an instant along with its unborn babies. A spot of blood hit the clean surface of the mirror, dribbling down silently as if it were a tear.
Noticing the debauchment of the pretty glass from his murder, Alois brought a finger over to it, just barely brushing over the crystalware in an attempt to clean it. What he wasn't expecting was for his hand to go right through the mirror in a burst of... sparkles?
He let out a gasp, taken aback, seeing his hand had gone straight through the mirror and to whatever lay beyond it. Standing to his feet, he wobbled slightly on the precarious surface, attempting to free his hand. Instead, he felt his entire wrist get swallowed, and then the mirror pulled the rest of him with it.
As his body passed through, the mirror burst into more sparkles, and a piercing sound, reminiscent to launched fireworks, rang through his ears. He barely had time to blink before he fell over an unseen edge, and his stomach lurched forward violently.
He screamed, but there was no echo that rang around the room as he plummeted fast, down through the air. Various visions that seemed like memories flashed around the room, dancing across the walls in a ghostly white. On the right wall he saw his brother, chasing a duck with a large, missing-toothed smile; a farmer that had once given them candy on one of their strolls with their parents; a horse race his family had watched with excitement and curiosity. The memories danced across the walls in a phantom glow, and he only watched them soar by, wide-eyed and open-mouthed, unsure of what to do.
He glanced downwards, over his left shoulder to see the ground coming closer and closer, but his speed wasn't letting up in the least.
At the last moment, his body flipped over so his back faced the ceiling and his chest faced the floor, and he landed, head-on, with a resonating thud and a loud groan and scream.
His vision blurred horribly, and his heart pounded from the strong, violent impact. His head had met the ground, forehead first, and the thundering headache that weaved itself upon his brain felt similar to the feeling of slamming one's forehead with a large tome repeatedly.
The earl sat there, breathing raggedly, attempting to stop the thundering noises in his ear, the splitting headache, and the rapid beating of his heart that filled his ears like an overflowing cup.
His crystal eyes crumbled closed as he pushed away the numbness and unlocked his stiff joints hesitantly. The coolness of the marble floor against his cheek provided a tiny source of comfort for his splitting headache.
When he reopened his eyes, he was surprised to see no blood had pooled around his head from the sharp impact from his fall. After a long moment of sitting and breathing, he sat on his haunches, looking around at where he now was.
It was a room of his mansion that he had never seen before. The walls stretched on so high into eternity he couldn't even see a chandelier, nor could he see the ceiling itself.
The room was dark, grey, dreary and empty, and it sent a chill down his spine before he called into nothingness, "Claude!"
No answer.
"Claude! ...Answer dammit!"
Nothing.
A thin spider-thread of fear laced around his heart and squeezed slightly when he swore he heard whispers beyond. Turning around, he saw virtually nothing, but swore there had been a presence there.
After coaxing his stiff legs, he arose, only then noticing the absence of his purple coat, thigh-high stockings, boots, dress-shirt, and vest.
His whole attire had been replaced with a pink jumper-overall-esque costume, covered by a white pinafore, and the strangest white and black striped stockings, inky-black heeled shoes (with thicker and smaller heels than his normal shoes), and a white bow tied into his hair.
He studied himself for a moment, but said nothing about the change, and continued walking towards a door that had been behind him that he was sure had never been there before.
Snagging the doorknob, he gave a strong pull, but nothing happened, to which he threw out an exclamation of "shit," and then moved to the next door, then the next, then the next, all giving him the same response.
At some point, he even began kicking one of the doors in an attempt to knock it down, but it didn't give way, and he fell to the ground on his knees in defeat.
"Claude... where are you? Why don't you answer me?"
Glancing about the room on hands and knees, he searched for any cracks or wall splinters that he could squeeze through. As he searched the cool, black-and-white tiles, something entered his peripheral vision: a small, glass table with three legs.
Standing up and walking towards it, he easily pushed the beautiful furnishing to the wall, attempting to reach the unseen ceiling by standing on it.
Unfortunately, the table was so small it barely reached anything, far less the ceiling, and Alois again cursed loudly until his foot brushed against something on the table's surface.
A small, transparent box that carried what looked like a cake jittered slowly to the side from the impact of his foot.
"What's this?" He bent over and picked it up, inspecting it curiously before opening it and reading, "Eat Me".
Without a second thought, he did as instructed, and gobbled up almost the entire thing. And he immediately skyrocketed upwards and slammed his head against the ceiling.
"Ow, fuck!"
No sooner had he screeched this had he noticed a small bottle on the table's surface with a tag that said, "Drink Me".
This time, he was a bit hesitant on being instructed, but nevertheless unscrewed the top, taking only a small sip, to which his body responded by shrinking considerably.
Fortunately, before he could plummet downwards for a second time, he caught ahold of one of the sills (though there was no window) built on the side of the room, and pulled himself up onto it.
Deciding these strange foods might be of some use, he decided to keep them with him. He undid a thread from the pinafore and looped it through a hole in the bottle's top to make a bracelet. Then, he did the same with the box of half-eaten cake and made another bracelet.
When done, he sidled the wall, back and palms both pressed to it as he baby-stepped, praying that he wouldn't fall or lose his balance on the narrow sill.
To his joy, he found a crack in the wall, and was easily able to slip through to the other side.
He entered into another room that looked just like the drawing room in the Trancy manor, the only difference was that everything was in reverse, just like a mirror.
Even though this room looked to be that of the Trancy's household on the exterior, internally, it had a whole different essence that shook Alois to the core of his heart.
The room was dimly-lit, but everything was organized and set perfectly, not an element out of place, almost like a petite dollhouse.
Alois glanced to the far left of the room and espied a fireplace burning rapidly, filling the room with a crackling tune chorused by red oak and ash firewood. Even though the firewood was of an excellent kind, it provided no warmth for him, and he still felt frozen from head to toe.
Resting in the centre of the room was a rectangular table, polished to a glossy glow, decorated in an elegant swirl pattern. The table presented an array of shining silverware and folded napkins, arranged for guests, but there was no sign of life in the room.
Alois crawled from the ceiling, taking care as he slid onto the ground from the wall's jutted edges, and landed on the floor.
A shot of alarm ripped at his spine like the claws of a monster as he crept across the wine-colored carpet, taking in the sight of old chairs, a bare divan crowded with pillows, and a black credenza flanked by two pure glass cabinets, all of which he had seen before in his own household.
Standing on the far right of the room was a grandfather clock. Even as the golden pendulum swung freely, the clock made no sound, and the hands stayed motionless, refusing to do time justice.
Alois watched the pendulum sway, then checked the time to see that the numbers were also in reverse. As he looked back to the clock's face, he saw two eyes and a large grin that looked very familiar to him.
He plodded the room, watching the framed pictures of landscapes as their pastel trees and watercolor roses oscillated in a wind that wasn't there. At least, a wind that wasn't supposed to be on framed pictures. Nearby, a painting of a man on a horse moved ever-so-slightly; the man visibly clutched his rider's crop tightly while the horse briskly galloped onwards.
The pictures are moving, he told himself.
Once he arrived at the table, he noticed another small 'Eat Me' cake box near the leg. Seizing it, he nibbled on the square and blew up to what seemed mostly like his normal height.
When the blonde finally reached the fireplace, he saw something that he hadn't seen when he surveyed the area from the ceiling.
Strewn in every direction, red and white chess pieces laid mostly face down, almost bowing, to the intense flames trapped between the mantles. Alois entered the firelight's territory just enough so the glow doused his knees down to his feet in the orangish ocean of flames.
He bent down, gingerly grasping one of the pieces that laid on the hearth. He identified the piece as a Red Queen, though it looked nothing like the chess pieces he was familiar with- no, this piece looked like a miniature statue of scarlet. It looked extremely unpleasant as well, for its face stretched into a wide smile that bore sharp teeth.
He placed the piece down, and before he could stand back up again, something else entered his peripheral vision that he knew hadn't been there before.
Standing by his side was a human-sized chess piece, the only one that wasn't bowing to the fire or laying on its side.
He recognized this piece as a White Queen, but foremost, he recognized it as his maid, Hannah Anafeloz.
Doused in silver and white, she was actually quite a stunning sight to behold: smooth café au lait skin, a silver shimmering ocean of hair that rested on her thighs, slightly pursed, soft lips, and glistening yet unmoving eyes the color of a rainy day cloud.
She wore a silvery-white skirt, obviously supported by a farthingale, topped by a snow-white bodice (shaped like a corset) fastened in the back with small inky buttons. The outfit was accompanied by black evening gloves, and a black collar that displayed a single diamond encircled with a silver border. In the back of the skirt was an enormous black ribbon. On her head she wore a silver tiara with a fascinator that bloomed into a silk white rose with black ribboned leaves entangled to its side, both the rose and the leaves were doused with small dots of diamond, displayed the effect of morning dew.
Stalking over to the chess piece, Alois glowered at her, placing both hands on his hips before saying, "What are you just sitting there for?"
He barely had the time to finish the sentence before the chess piece came alive, walking right past him as if she never noticed him.
"Yes, Alice has already arrived," she said, but her eyes looked straight past him as if she were talking to someone else. Oddly enough, no one else was there; there were no other signs of life in the room.
"She was accompanied by someone?" her voice was soft and danced along the crackling of the flames. "No, I don't think I've heard of him before. Does he seem friendly?" She paused here, a thoughtful look spreading across her features. She tapped her chin with her gloved fingers, then replied, "Well, keep an eye on him, just in case."
From there, she waited awhile, tossing glances at whomever was speaking back to her before springing alive again with, "Dear, if you wish not to forget, simply write everything down in a memorandum-book."
She's ignoring me... Or she's finally gone mad!
Alois followed her to the table, grabbing onto her hair and giving it a sharp yank, but she didn't respond, nor did she even seem to notice someone had assaulted her. Instead, she continued moving, and eventually Alois's hands went through her body as if it were smoke.
I must be invisible...
Smoothing the wrinkles from her skirts, she turned to another door behind the fireplace. After loosening the knob she passed through, leaving behind the swaying of her bow and a flutter from her dress as if she were a ghostly snowbird.
"Where is she going...?" he cut himself off with a snort, then stocked over to the door, rubbing at his arms, attempting to find a little warmth.