Part I
A White Rabbit Shaped Space
Often he'd wonder off into the woods, seeking to be under the strange shade and surreal nature of the gloomy place, frozen in time, settling like dust in silence. Something of a loner, the boy had a potent curiosity that on occasion drove him in to areas he shouldn't have gone, and this green dream was no exception. Just outside of town, outside of the circle of buildings and tramways, shaded from the twilight overcast, the trees around him whispered strange hymns and silent curses – akin to the rumors of mysterious magic and even a witch out among the sticks and leaves, a darkness in mystic abstract that threatened his very safety, that shook him in fear to his very bones. But the feeling pulled at him, and he couldn't resist following his curious energies as he imagined a witch out there, somewhere in the dark, among the plant life and odd shades and forms dancing in the treetops. According to local mumblings, a bizarre manor stood out there deep in the woods; it stood lost in time just like the land itself, silent and desolate, awash in a loneliness to some extent he was sure he could never imagine. Further, the alleged witch was said to live there as well, and he briefly thought of the large meat cleaver he had in his backpack. He hoped he'd never have to use it, as frankly, he was not prepared to encounter any sort of witch at all, no matter what his ego would have him believe.
"Even if I did find her, there's no guarantee she'd give me any time to use it," he whispered to himself, shivering briefly at the idea of her finding him first, of his weapon being completely useless. Though deep down, he was already pretty certain the weapon was useless anyway.
He was alone in this endeavor. What little friends he had were not interested in venturing out here in the slightest. And as he journeyed deeper and deeper into the woods, he noticed a creeping sensation that grew worse and worse as he passed tree after tree, as the air got heavier and darker. Now he was beginning to lose his confidence, and the visions of the horrible thing looming out here in the silence only made his anxiety exponentially worse. Deep in his heart, he couldn't shake the feeling of being watched, and above all, stalked. A witch? He wasn't sure, but the sensation of eyes on him was almost too strong as he kept pushing farther and farther.
Then he saw light in the distance.
Watching his footing amid the stuck out roots and muddy hallways between trees and bush, he carefully approached the clearing, listening to the silence for her, for it.
There, under an eerie twilight ridden sky, stood an ancient looking manor, decaying and withered like Death itself had touched the structure. Its windows were foggy, and unkempt bushes over growing along with their neighboring vines, consumed the walls of the entirety of the property. This building was far older than rumor suggested, in fact it looked like nothing had been out there for decades. The green of the woods bled into the built color of the manor, and he could almost hear it eating away at the sign of civilization, at this last beacon of reprieve out in the desolate air.
He felt his heart leap, seeing the faint shade of something staring at him beyond the glass. It was in his periphery, but he knew he indeed saw something. Putting down his backpack, he pulled out the cleaver. It clenched with a white knuckle grip, he packed up again and headed towards the door, his heart racing, his stomach up in his throat. He was terrified and yet he didn't really know why, he could simply sense the mysterious energies circulating around him. With the last shard of his courage he grabbed the doorknob and turned it, disappearing into the maw of the manor, into the darkness of that aged air. Uncertain and perplexed, he eagerly awaited his future in its creaking walls.
Standing in a dimly lit foyer, it starkly revealed its contents to him in the barely encompassing twilight that bled from the outside, or what little content it had in the rubble of its emptiness. To his left he saw a door, the only other exit from this level aside from the entrance behind him and the entrance to a courtyard also directly in front of him. The windows were so dirty he couldn't fully see the courtyard from where he was standing. A shiver went up his spine when he thought about going out there; something deep inside of him was conveying that stepping out there was a really dangerous idea, yet he hadn't the slightest idea why. He studied the shapes of the bushes through the translucent glass, imagining if the witch was perhaps out there. Standing there in the foyer eventually got old, especially as he thought about a witch wandering around. He needed to get out of there. Echoing footsteps quickly traveled throughout the foyer as he tried to muffle them the best he could, approaching the door to his left on the respective bottom floor. Looking up the stairs nearby, he imagined there were a few doors up there too – he'd rather not go up to the second level though, in fact as he pondered it more, he'd just as well get out of there as soon as possible. Still, his curiosity ate at him and he opened the door, heading into this unknown room.
A mess of silverware and table top items were scattered across the floor, some faithfully resting on a broken table also in the middle of the room. It was all still nicely decorated in ornate design, a thick layer of dust on everything around. There was a gaping window just in front of him that looked in on the scene with almost a bright glee, and he truly began to realize how silent the manor actually was. This was a mock dining room of sorts, and he quickly pieced together he should leave right then. The anxiety was skyrocketing at this point and he simply couldn't stay there any longer. He briefly chuckled at the thought of the meat cleaver in his hand and began making his way back, closing the door behind him and heading towards the entrance. The air began to heavy even more and a creeping darkness began to bleed into the foyer. He began to feel somewhat disoriented, dizzying up to the point where he needed to stop at a nearby empty pedestal for a brief break, spacing out at the doors to the entrance, imagining the strange woods outside waiting for him, calling him in peculiar tongues.
He struggled to catch his breath though, and as he stood there the room began to pulse. A strange life found its way into the woodwork and he began becoming somewhat fearful as the floor began to pulse and breathe like an entity, or so it looked, its patterns churning and morphing.
"Is this real?" He whispered to himself, watching surreal geometric shapes danced below him, as the space around him bent and warped.
"Don't go out there," a soft voice whispered from behind. All the same, he nearly leapt through the ceiling, frantically raising his cleaver and spinning around.
There, at the top of the left trail of stairs going to the second level, was a young girl. He couldn't believe his eyes. She had golden blond hair and as he approached slowly, in awe at that, he took note of her large, ocean blue eyes. She walked down the stairs a few steps as he got closer, the silence between them deafening. A cute smile rested on her face under a delicate gaze, her clear skin almost glowing in the odd twilight. She seemed a ghost, in fact she didn't seem real at all. He briefly envisioned a faerie princess sort, a forest elemental corporeally manifesting here in this empty manor. Her serene features and gentle eyes made him feel so oddly at ease that he nearly dropped his cleaver. He originally considered she may be the witch, but he felt those ideas dissipating as she smiled at him in that spinning foyer. Inspired by this new feeling of ease, he approached her a bit more, now all the more curious what she was doing there of all places. He'd never seen her around town, but she couldn't be anything but new to this area; someone so beautiful and memorable surely would've sparked interest in everyone. Yet, he'd heard nothing about new people moving in, or anything from his few more social peers at all. This girl's identity was a complete enigma for the time being. She looked at him with such an oddly peaceful gaze, and he felt the static like machinations of the forest white noise disappearing into a sort of sullen silence, hidden underneath her enchanting eyes.
Before he could utter a word she brushed back her hair, smiling at him again.
"Don't go out there," she said, looking off behind him, "There's a witch out there."