We run.
Swift footsteps. Labored breathing. A disheveled-looking figure in a top hat sprints through woods, his clothing ripped and tattered. He stumbles over a tree root, recovers, then turns back toward his pursuer. With a quick gesture of gloved hands, he casts a spell. A blinding flash of magic, and the scene changes.
We fight.
In a dungeon, faint beams of light from the high window glint off a chain, which leads from the ceiling down to the shackled wrists of a ginger-haired fellow with rabbit ears. His eyes are shadowed, yet an ember of hope still burns deep within. Resting his head against his arms, he shuts his eyes and lets darkness descend around him.
We wait.
A body rests face-up in shallow water, red hair tangled and damp. A slight breeze causes small waves to lap at him, and his tie drifts. The fabric of his shirt moves with the barely perceptible rise and fall of his chest. The wind picks up a bit and ruffles his hair, then the sunlight's reflection on rippling water obscures him from view.
We hide.
A raindrop on his cheek causes a flicker of movement behind closed eyelids, and a cat ear twitches. Piled leaves tumble away as the person sits up. He takes in the grey sky and pulls his tail close, wrapping it around himself as if to ward off the chill that assaults his bare skin. He looks up, meeting an unseen pair of eyes. Shivering, he whispers, "Come and save us, Alice..."
We plead.
With a jolt, the cat boy is gone, replaced by a throne room. A regal young man with black and white hair, empty-eyed and straight-faced, sits at its center. In the corners of the room, hidden things make slow rustling noises. A black shape looms behind the king, whose mouth then spreads into a cruel smile.
We break.