I posted this to AO3 like a year ago as a "you x character" bit, but I wasn't super invested in it. Kind of glad I waited though, because now I have the Jervis/Jonathan/Jerome(Jeremiah) Nerd Trust friendship to throw in. Should be good times.

starts at pre-No Man's Land

-Penny

Violet smelled flowers.

Not just flowers. Oak, earth, and dew on grass – things that weren't exactly commonplace in her family's apartment. Now that she thought about it, the apartment wasn't typically so cold either. As she drifted closer to awareness, the sensation of goosebumps became prominent. Then it was the dampness of her outfit. Then the hard ground underneath her.

This was a park, wasn't it? One of those scenarios where a girl sporting a torn-up dress is found in the bushes by a couple of joggers, and she was the girl?

She opened your eyes, just barely, seeing a darkening sky hinting at dusk, and glanced around without moving her head. There was fog, and the flowers she had smelled; she was surrounded on three sides by very tall, very haggard-looking bushes. So far she was right about being in the bushes, but these didn't look like any topiary she'd seen in a city park before. Some distance away, in the opening of those bushes, there was a large tree with a sign on it. Maybe that would tell her where she was.

But first, a test: she sat up so quickly it took a moment for her vision to clear, as an action like that was usually enough to jar her out of a bad dream. This was all a dream, wasn't it? A damp dress and goosebumps meant very little when the setting she was in was simply too strange to be real.

No such luck.

With joints stiff and sore from laying on the hard ground, Violet finally pushed herself to stand. Well, her clothes didn't appear to be in any ill condition or disarray, aside from being a little wet and dirty in some spots. That was...comforting? No it wasn't. Someone still brought her here, and that someone's intentions were entirely unknown. Just because they hadn't violated her right off the bat didn't meant they weren't building up to something sinister. As she began the short walk to the tree, her ears pricked up at a bird beginning its song, and she realized she wasn't hearing any city sounds. No cars, no construction or coughing or chats. She looked back up at the sky – no skyscrapers, no smog. Wherever she was, it seems likely a ways off from Gotham. That was...not good, to say the least. Her mind flashed to a Law and Order episode where a man brought girls to a remote property to hunt and torture.

Panicking never got a girl out of a murderers lair, though, so she clenched her fists and took a deep breath, continuing toward the tree. It sat in the center of a small clearing, with some rosebushes and a sundial – she might have found it pretty, or even romantic in any other situation. Violet took another look around, seeing multiple pathways lined with the same tall bushes you woke up surrounded by. Oh – it clicked - a hedge maze. These were the sort of things she thought were only found on old estates in the countryside and such. Cities? Not so much, although maybe they existed in the Palisades, which was just across the bridge.

She stood on gnarled roots and read the sign.

This Way

The scrolling font was less than terrifying, but the words screamed an obvious message of "it's a trap". Yes, right this way, right into some psycho's hands, that's the way all right. Yeah, Violet thought not. Another way then – there were plenty to choose from. Then again, isn't there only one way through a maze?

It was worth a shot anyway.

First, the direction opposite of the signs instruction, but the pathway ended almost sooner than it began.

Wrong Way

She turned around and attempted another, hopefully longer route. Perhaps now was about the time for her to start thinking about how she got there. More importantly, who brought her.

She remembered going to class, after that she took her cello in for repairs, and then a stop at the tea shop on the way home. That's where she found the day ended, because despite some probing, she didn't remember ever actually getting home. The shop was just across from her building, meaning it happened between there and her own doorstep. What she was missing amounted to less than five minutes.

Wait. The tea – it was free. The man in front of her had paid it forward, as did she for the woman behind her. Drugs in tea? Anything can be drugged. There's a reason "always watch your drink" and "be wary of the drinks you accept" are among the first safety lessons you learn when beginning to navigate the treacherous waters of blossoming adolescence, because that advice is not strictly limited to alcohol. However, she had to admit, something as innocuous as a free cup of orange blossom tea hadn't exactly warranted the same amount of suspicion Violet would have treated her briefly unattended solo cup at a party.

Guess it was time for that outlook to change.

But she still really hadn't seen the man; her phone had been holding her attention in line. He didn't stick around for thank you, or even walk past her on his way out. The only thing she could recall about him was a top hat. Eccentric dressers were of course very commonplace in Gotham, but she liked to think she would have definitely remembered his hat following her around. Unless this was a completely random happenstance, he and his hat had probably been following her for some time. That's how these things worked – kidnappers would lie in wait, picking up on schedules and habits before making the big move. Years of true crime television taught her so.

Go Back

Dead end again. Panic was setting in now, as it seemed more and more certain that she had been snatched up by a stalking, drugging creep.

Breathe, breathe, breath. Just take another path.

This time, she chose one that stretched on for quite a bit further than the other two, but when she came upon a sign reading That Way, it became clear that she had merely chosen an alternate route that converged onto the main path: the path he had meant for her to take all along. Violet now wholly doubted the potential existence of a second exit – only other ways which would always lead right where he wanted her to be, so she may as well follow the signs and get this over with quicker.

Much to her gratitude, there was no top-hatted stranger waiting for her outside the maze. To the far right she could spot a small house, ahead was an inviting gazebo strung up with lanterns and fairy lights, to the left an unkempt, but still clearly empty garden. All around the plot of land was forest. She walked around the garden and into the forest, because a dark wood full of hungry wolves would be decidedly better company than whomever might be waiting for her among the other options.

As the Silent Hill chapter Violet woke up to disappeared behind oak and maple trees, she heard a tapping.

At first, she thought it was some rather rhythmic chirping, but as she kept walking, it turned into a very distinct ticking sound - like a metronome, or an old clock. Easy to ignore for a while, but it seemed to get louder. Violet walked in other directions only for the noise to follow, growing louder and louder until her vision grew burred and she become disoriented.

Don't leave.

The voice in her head is equally loud as the ticking, and is pleading rather than commanding, but it was definitely not her voice.

Don't leave.

It's too dangerous.

You'll die if you leave.

Wouldn't she die if she stayed there? Not that she could say who or what exactly had awaited her outside the maze (only that it had been presented in the most unsettling fashion), but at least she could think without hearing voices and feeling like her head was about to explode. She stumbled over roots and shrubbery, still somewhat blinded by the noise, now combined with the onset of night. The ticking began to recede, though, stopping altogether once she had reached the forests edge.

The gazebo looked even more inviting in the dark, the way a lighthouse does on rough seas, and for the moment it seemed safer to sit someplace where she was capable of seeing all around her rather than going into a dark house with an unknown layout. Not that much safer, obviously, but still. She trudged over to it, while picking up every tiny sound she heard on the way. Animal noises, mostly, but that knowledge did surprisingly little to ease her frenzied mind.

After a quick inspection, Violet find the gazebo and the immediately surrounding area to be empty, and cautiously walked up the steps. On the far end of the space was a small table with a rather festive spread – cookies, petit fours, jam tarts…and tea, but you had learned your lesson about accepting such items from strangers, thank you very much.

Although, she were pretty hungry. If she got too hungry, it would be hard to keep her wits about. She needed her wits in order to get out of there, right?

By virtue of simplicity, the tarts looked the most innocent (and filling), so she smelled that first. Someone at school told her that "edibles" - foods infused with drugs – had a very obvious smell to them, but Violet smelled nothing chemical in the tart, nothing but cherry. Just a bite – she figured she could eat it very, very slowly, taking the time to gauge whether it was affecting her in some way.

That was the plan, anyway, but the tart was so perfectly small it was hard to stretch it into more than two bites. It was good. So good, it was hard to wait for another, though she was convinced she didn't actually need to wait very long, as whatever had been put in her tea earlier must have taken effect almost immediately. She tried lemon next, then raspberry, and again back to cherry.

"You never could resist the tarts."

It was the voice from earlier – the one that was in her head – but it wasn't in her head now; it came from behind. So much for the gazebo as a tactical vantage point. Somehow, Violet felt a little sheepish at being caught off guard like this, rather than terrified as she should have been. She set the tart back down.

"I'm so glad I found you again, Alice."

Alice. Alice? If one thing was certain, she was not an "Alice", but something told her to bite her tongue rather than tell him he was wrong. This wasn't the time to test the situation. Very slowly, she turned to him

A well-made plaid suit, somewhat large teeth, that hat – he was quite a character to take in.

The man stood as the foot of the stairs, smiling up at her rather benevolently. There is something wild about him – maybe it's the tangled hair beneath his hat, or perhaps the way his dark eyes are shining – but oddly enough, she didn't feel very threatened. Not just yet. His gloved hands were clasped in front of him and free of weapons, and he was tall, but also a bit on the wiry side.

Violet felt herself flinch as he ascended the steps, drawing closer and closer, and froze up when he encircled her in a hug. With her face pressed against his chest, she could hear his calm, steady heartbeat. He smelled like tea and newspaper ink.

"Alice, Alice, Alice." He cooed, stroking her hair. She hadn't even noticed the leaves in it until now, when he pulled one out. "Still an adventurous little thing. You went in the woods, didn't you?"'

There is not one thing readable about this interaction, but she chose to nod.

He tutted her. "Never go back there, please? It isn't safe, you know."

She nodded again, still not trusting herself enough to speak.

"Let's visit the garden before bed, hm?" He smiled brightly again, taking her hand. Her gait was strait and stiff, the way it is when you start walking after being on the treadmill for a while, but it matched his pace well despite his longer legs. The gate made an eerie sound upon opening, and the garden was, of course, pitch, but he knew exactly where he was going, judging by how easily he found his way to the lanterns.

As the area brightened, she noticed the garden was nearly half overgrown weeds and half trashed furniture more than it was flowers. There were containers and mismatched chairs laying around, with broken cups and lamps and other things she couldn't make out nearly as well. He gripped her hand tightly as he continued his round of the area, turning on each of the lights. Even when she tripped over something, he kept his hold. Not thinking, she took a glance back to inspect what tripped her.

It was an arm. A human arm attached to a dead human body. The man yanked her back to her feet as she attempted to frantically scoot away from it.

Now that she had been alerted to the presence of one body, she finally spotted the others as well – their limbs peering out of chests or shallow graves, in chairs or tangled in brambles. There was more than one set of clouded eyes staring off past her. The flowers masked the smell, but they don't hide the horror.

"I've gotten quite lost without you, Alice." He notes rather sadly, while she counted half a dozen girls, noting the curly, brown hair on each of the more visible ones. Hair like hers.

Like Alice's.

The sudden certainty of death completely numbed her, but it was probably better that she wasn't the blubbering mess she wanted to be at that moment. Maybe crying and running was what got all those girls killed.

His voice is soft and far away in your ear. "Don't be too put out about them, my dear. They were only pretenders, you have nothing to fear." She finds his words strangely soothing, and doesn't resist to being led away. "I have a much better feeling about you."

A much better feeling about you. He must have known she wasn't Alice after all to say something like that, but in any case, Violet felt her calm compliance had paid off in the respect that she wasn't joining the "garden party" as a corpse tonight.

One small victory is better than none.