Winter, 1897. London, England

A young boy trudged through the snow surrounding his numb feet, walking down alleyways and side streets. He put his hands in his pockets, shivering, his long overcoat swaying behind him in the biting wind. He walked into a small, rundown shop and shut the door behind him, throwing off his coat and putting a large chunk of wood on the already blazing fire. He sat on a dusty, worn armchair and put his feet on a small rest, just as dusty, pulling off his old boots and throwing them on the floor near the door. Lastly, he walked over to the door, standing near a coat hanger. He took off and placed on this, his hat. He walked back over to the small armchair, looking at the fire. Above, on a small golden plaque, were engraved the words, 'The Hatter'.

December 7th, 1897.

The Hatter walked through the streets on London, playing with a stack of cards and staring down at the floor. He stopped in front of a small warehouse, and walked inside. He ignored the looks he got from the workers and continued out to the back of the warehouse, walking onto an abandoned street, filled with rundown houses, windows boarded up and smashed. He continued down the street, past the never-ending houses, until he finally arrived at a large main street, with a box on one side. He went over to it, and picked it up, taking out all of his gear and sat down on the box. Over the course of the day, he performed his cheap tricks and shows, taking what little money the passers-by already had. However, waiting here on the streets, 1 man in particular caught his ear. A fat, portly man, with a scar down his left cheek, was muttering as he passed by about a power that could allow him authority. The Hatter watched him carefully, thinking what the strange, stout man could be talking about

December 8th, 1897.

The Hatter sat, at his usual position on the street, and at about the same time as yesterday, the fat man walked past again. This time, however, The Hatter stood up and followed him, to a large house, sitting just next to the Thames. It was a mansion, of sorts, built with large stone columns running down the front of the house, with a large, wooden door behind them and The Hatter couldn't help but be amazed as he quietly slipped inside. He followed the man up a large, stone staircase, stopping and holding his breath at every sound, before continuing on. The man walked through a door and up to a large, circular vat of liquid, oozing and bubbling at the surface. He continued to mutter about the 'power' that would come with this, as he watched it, almost transfixed by it. The Hatter climbed up the side of the room, sitting on a high window-sill, directly above the gurgling, frothy blue liquid, quite precariously. Suddenly, the window-sill cracked, and fell out from beneath him, as the Hatter fell into the vat of liquid. As he crawled out, falling to the floor, an eerie blue glow surrounded The Hatter, as the fat man turned to look, gasping and red-faced,

"Who are you?" He asked, loudly and angrily, waiting for the boy to stand up. Looking down at his hands, glowing blue, the Hatter grinned, a sudden surge of newfound confidence within him, "Me? I'm the Mad Hatter". The man roared with anger, throwing the nearest object to him, a steel candelabra, towards the Hatter, who quickly ducked out of the way and ran to the window, jumping and smashing it as he fell. Opening his eyes as he fell, The Hatter realised he had jumped from a window 20 odd feet in the air, and he screamed in terror. He hit the ground with a thud, and opened one of his eyes, curious. That should have killed him, but instead he was standing here, absolutely fine. Worried, he ran back home, and slammed the door.