This chapter was supposed to be split into two parts. However, when drafting the second chapter I realised that readers would be confused so I put the whole prologue in and will start the real chapters soon. sorry to inconvenience you:

MossyDrake.

Screams and laughs could be heard echoing down white halls. Combining into a symphony of madness, fitting considering the place he was in.

Secluded in his room – if it could be called that – Sanji lay on his bed, staring blankly at the ceiling and listening. Noises like those were the norm in this hellish place. To be honest, it wouldn't have surprised Sanji if this actually was a part of hell, maybe one of the seven circles the Hatter keeps going on about during their sessions. However, as the door to his cell groaned open, Sanji finally stirred, turning his heavy head towards the source of the sound. Seeing who it was, he immediately stretched his mouth into a smile. At least he had some reprieve from this hell.

"Oh Sanji~" she calls as he sits up. "How has my kitty been?"

Oh, it's one of those days.

Curling into himself, Sanji opens his mouth to reply but freezes at the sudden glint in her gaze. Remembering that she was here longer than him and therefore more… unhinged. Snapping his jaw shut and bowing his head instead, letting her sit by him and raise a hand. A purr – gravelly and not a sound his larynx was used to making – struggled its way from his throat and only afterwards did he speak. "I've been doing as well as I can."

"Marvellous. My kitty has been taking care of himself," she croons as her hand finds its destination behind his ear, a small sharp tug at his hair prompting him to give a short quiet purr once more.

It was simply that for a mere few minutes, their solace in this crazed pit. Then ever so soft footfalls and muted squeaking were heard startlingly loud and separate from the maddened wails and cackles. Sanji straightened his spine and she removed her hand as the steel door yet again voiced its tiredness, the metal complaining at being opened to let the insanity flood around and tear hungrily at its back.

The two men revealed towered over the two children and one – the broader of the pair – jerked his head to the cart after jabbing a fat finger in Sanji's direction. The boy sighed and stood wearily, stepping forwards as the men retreated from the doorway to stand in the hallway. "Bye Sanji," the girl said mildly cheerfully, "See you soon."

Sanji had turned his head at the first syllable she had made, head cocked to not miss anything she said. At the evident end to her farewell he exited after the male staff, pausing only for a second in the doorway to utter hollowly, "Goodbye... Alice."

As the door closed with a firm bang the girl's giggle was cut off. The two men then roughly grabbed the limp boy and strapped the thin calves and biceps tightly to the cart, very nearly cutting off his circulation. Sanji was left to squint as the end of the corridor neared, the intense light searing from behind the glass a stark difference from his prison. Some of the metal doors caging others resounded with a desperate blow or two. Sanji ignored it all. Even the stench emanating from the hulking figures near his head. And the reek of iron and antiseptic crawling from further inside the building. The hall always seemed longer then shorter than the last time he was being wheeled down it. The ceiling always seeming to flake more and more too.

… Even the asylum was suffering from all that occurred within.

Why was he here again? Ah. Yes. That was it – he wasn't wanted. He was different from them. But they didn't matter. Not at all.

All that did matter was keeping Alice happy. She needed him to keep her mental state stable. He helped her and she was there for him.

At that thought the light became blinding and so he closed his one visible eye. As well as the one that was covered of course. The thin curtain of hair covering his right eye was not nearly enough to dampen the effect of the blaring white. The faint squeak of the wheel halted as the light faded in the most minimal amount ever known.

They stopped at a door and Sanji didn't even have to open his eyes to know where he was. The smell of blood and syrupy Tea was a clear indicator.

He could hear the door open, the squeaking wheels push him into the room. He could feel the humid air at his face and taste the coppery mixture of blood and tea on his tongue.

Sanji was vaguely aware of the hysterical terror clawing its way up this throat as the guards left him in the middle of the room, closing the door behind him.

Opening his eyes in the predictably dim room, Sanji resigned himself to another bout of torture from the hands - and various tools - of the madman the Asylum has dubbed The Mad Hatter.