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Chapter 24: Assassination

Despite it being mid-afternoon, the woods were poorly illuminated; the sun's rays barely bothering to filter through the dense foliage of the trees above to light the area below. Alice treaded carefully through the cluster of trees; feet gingerly stepping over outgrown roots and fallen debris from the canopy while cerulean eyes squinted in the dark, trying to adjust to the poor lighting that engulfed her. She had been walking for quite awhile now, yet still hadn't a clue where she was or where she was heading.

Alice, don't, a voice within her hissed. It was demanding, almost cautionary. Turn back now.

Alice hesitantly slowed her steps. The voice had always seemed to ring out within her when she was in danger, but it was something she couldn't explain. Was it really that intelligible if it wasn't her own thoughts? But then again, it never seemed to steer her wrong before. She recalled various instances—like that in the Hatter's mansion—when the voice steered her out of trouble. Would it be stupid to ignore it now?

Possibly.

Alice halted her movement. She knew she should turn back, return to the mansion, and wait until Ches returned. But it was almost too tempting to stay out and explore the area a little further. With her poor judgment devouring her mindset, she stepped forward, continuing her parade deeper into the forest. "It'll be fine," she told herself, "I'll find Ches and we'll head back together."

And with that, she was off once more.

Red; red was everywhere. It devoured the trees in sticky shades of scarlet, dripping to the soft earth in hues of crimson. The sky was a pool of red wine with flecks of roseate shades brought by the clouds that ebbed and flowed eerily above head. A cardinal perched on one of the crimson branches, beady eyes peering down at Alice below. It opened its beak, crying out in some sort of gruesome lullaby before fluttering off into the red backdrop.

Before her stood a bubbling brook, spanning as far as the eye could see. But instead of water, the color of the world around her drained into it, forming a thick, scarlet liquid that bubbled up impatiently, emitting a gruesome smell she had encountered only once before in its fullest. It was a sticky, iron scent that flooded her nostrils and made her stomach churn uneasily with a relapsing memory of a blade and a man lying lifelessly on the floor of the Cheshire's bedroom.

It was the smell of blood.

Panic flooded through her in tidal waves, washing away all sense of direction. She struggled to keep afloat, stumbling over exposed roots that seemed to be reaching for her, intent on wrapping around her ankles and dragging her down further and further. She gasped for air, her lungs suddenly constricting and refusing to allow any oxygen into them. With her heart pounding in her ears, she could barely hear the voice inside her head.

Alice, it whispered feverishly, but it sounded too far away. Alice, stay awake, it commanded. Alice!

The room was bright, a ballroom of some sorts filled with people in glorious suits and gowns, all drinking and laughing and having a good time. It was a masquerade, for men jested around in colorful face decoys while the ladies giggled behind the mystery of their eye masks. Everyone appeared wealthy, flaunting expensive-looking clothing furnished from fine silks and adorned with strings of beading. The scene was picturesque, save for the couple frozen on the grand staircase just above the ballroom.

Suddenly the clamor of music and laughter ceased, and the crowd turned to the staircase. The couple descended the stairs with a poised leisure, and the crowd was suddenly on-edge, anticipating their arrival on the floor. The man wore a fine suit, black as night, paired oddly with a gray cloak thrown over his shoulders, only for the hood to veil his face. He smiled out awkwardly to the crowd, a grin spanning from ear to ear.

The woman beside him was petite, dwarfed by the man's height and muscular build. She flaunted a sparkling silver eye mask and a stapless powder blue dress that clung to her slim waist before pooling to the floor below her. It was ballgown adorned with enough crystals for the tastes of a princess—and with her blond tresses piled atop her head in a curly updo beneath a sparkling head band, she seemed to fit the part.

The couple arrived on the dance floor arm in arm like the royalist of couples as the crowd parted for them. The woman curtsied while the man bowed to her, and they initiated the first dance. The cloaked man pulled her close, an arm wrapping around her waist while the other held her hand to their side. Despite her small stature, the woman gracefully slid her free arm up the man's chest before draping it delicately on his shoulder.

The two waltzed a beautifully choreographed dance to the band that begun to play in the corner, each floating around the ballroom like angels carefully gliding atop a blanket of clouds. The guests watched in admiration, occasionally whispering glorified remarks to each other.

Once the song had ended, the gentleman presented his partner to the audience surrounding them and she bowed to the crowd, earning a thundering ovation. Once the claps had ceased, the band begun to play again, this the crowd joining the couple on the dance floor.

The royal couple continued to dance, lost in the sea of the other couples who swayed and glided to the music. The man held his partner close, now wrapping two warms around her waist, allowing both of her hands to slide under his cloak and tangle themselves in his hair. He bent down to her ear-level, muttering a few sweet words in her ear before planting kisses down the side of her neck, to which she welcomed with the toss of her head.

They expressed their love in a haze of ignorant bliss for a few moments until the woman's eyes widened with horror, causing the man to stand erect. A shriek in the crowd brought the joyful procession to a screeching halt.

There was the faint sight of a glinting blade followed by the splatter of crimson. It was the royal woman's turn to shriek as her partner's head lolled before completely dislodging itself from his neck. It toppled to the floor, landing in a pool of bloodied fabric. The face simply stared on, a grin plastered to his face even during death.

"Someone's murdered the Master!" a voice ran out before complete chaos broke out.

Screaming.

Crying.

Darkness.

Silence.

Alice jolted from her sleep, a cold sweat breaking out across her forehead. She stared forward, eyes adjusting to her surroundings. She lay on the forest floor next to a bubbling brook; only this time, clear water flowed through it. The world around her was no longer red, but colored normally; the trees were covered in green foliage and the sky was blue.

A shaky hand rose to her chest and she clutched at the material, clawing at it as if she were to remove her bodice, breathing would come easier to her. But it didn't. It came in short, shaky gasps, unable to fulfill her lungs' requests.

Her dream was vivid and gruesome, but the aspect that made it worse was that she watched the whole night unfold, as if she were seeing into the future. She watched Ches escort her down the staircase, watched their first dance, watched how madly in love they were, and watched how he was killed right in front of her.

"The walls can talk, Miss Alice," She recalled Niles telling her.

"No," she choked out, voice barely above a whisper. Liquid spilled from her eyes, drenching her cheek in trails of hot, salty tears. "No! Don't let him be taken away from me!" she sobbed into her hands. "Please, no."