((This is my first fanfic and I do not own Alice in Wonderland or any of the characters. I've used some of the iconic characters, but in a way made them my own. This is more of a dark, morbid story than a girl falling down a rabbit hole. I hope you all enjoy!))
Chapter One: Enter Cheshire
"Alice, dear," Mrs. Bran cooed, leaning forward and stroking the teenager's platinum blond hair. "Have you been feeling alright, lately? You seem awfully distracted…" The elderly woman had previously drug her kitchen chair to face Alice's and was now staring intently into cold, unfamiliar eyes dripping of sapphire and teal.
Alice could hear her guardian's voice, but it seemed muffled—far away—as if a space of nothingness crept in-between the two. She blinked twice, trying desperately to clear the fog that invaded her mind. "Yes, I'm fine," she replied.
Mrs. Bran knitted her eyebrows together as she tried to process the void in Alice's voice. For most of her life, Alice was a carefree, bubbly soul who constantly smiled and laughed; but as of late, she seemed more of a ghost than anything. "Alright, dear," she finally sighed, drawing her chair back with a stiffening screech. "I believe you. Why don't you wash up for dinner?"
Alice nodded in response and soundlessly stood up, pushing her chair back as she did so. With a slight curtsey, she exited the kitchen.
"You're drawing attention to yourself," a cold voice rang out whilst long nails tapped out against the dresser in Alice's bedroom. She sat shoulders squared to the cloaked figure, staring at her hands that were folded in her lap. In a fluent, soundless motion, it crossed the bedroom to perch itself alongside of Alice. "You mustn't let them catch onto us," it reprimanded.
Alice nodded solemnly. With a courageous side glance at the figure, she studied her companion. Its skin, slightly gray in color, offered a contrasting backdrop for its white, jagged grin. The hood of its cloak, slightly more pigmented than its skin, offered little to be seen beside its protruding smile. Although Alice didn't know the figure's nature too well—a week was hardly any time to predict the behavior of someone—she knew of one thing: its grin never seemed to falter from its face even during the different fluctuations in its mood. It was almost as if its mouth was stuck in an eternal grin.
Suddenly, the figure turned its head and presumably—Alice couldn't tell because of its cloak eclipsing the upper portion of its face from the nose up—looked down to meet her gaze. Ashamed of her staring, Alice turned away quickly.
"You will get to know me better, I assure you," the figure muttered, as if it had read her mind. Sliding a talon-like hand forward, it came into contact with her hair, almost in a gesture of friendliness. For some strange reason or another, the touch relaxed her more than how she imagined it would frighten her and she closed her eyes on impulse.
When she opened them a moment later, the weight of its hand had lifted and the figure was nowhere to be found. But Alice was used to it; it came and went as it pleased. Where it would go, Alice didn't know. How it would disappear and reappear was something Alice couldn't fathom. Yet one thing was certain, no matter how strange the figure was, she couldn't help but anticipate its next arrival.