When Alice and Cheshire finally arrive at the clearing in the woods, a moonless night has already descended upon all the land. Seemingly floating on the low-lying mists roiling in with the night air, is a dilapidated cottage. Its thatched roof is collapsing in upon itself, sagging and gaping to the open skies with prominent fissures. A solitaire dim, red lantern is swaying from a shattered window, illuminating the path to the cottage with a gentle glow. The door is a resonate shade of green, and splattered before it on the stoop is the dismembered corpse of some unidentifiable, small creature.

Traversing the door, nearly illegible is scrawled: The Mad Hatter.

Alice's brow furrows. "Cheshire…What's wrong with the Hatter?"

Cheshire's smile dulls for but an instant, his face turning into a glower, "The Hatter is mad, Alice. Dangerously mad."

"Then why the hell are we here?" Alice asks with animosity.

"Because, my little pudding pop, The Hatter has something that we need."

"And what would that be, Cat?"

"Eat me," Cat says simply whilst tapping on the door gently with his tail.

"You listen to me, Cat--" Alice begins, but she is broken off as the door swings wide with a creak. The inside of the cottage is completely dark, save for two candelabras poised with dignity upon a long, chestnut dining table. The table seems to reach across the entirety of the house, extending past Alice's peripheral vision. An insane giggling is heard from the recesses of the house.

The two enter.

"They said I could keep the corpses. They said I could eat the corpses. They said I could keep the corpses. They said I could eat the corpses…" The Hatter chants under his breath. He is sitting at the head of the table; a plate of cookies is sitting in front of him, each cookie labeled Eat Me.

"It's good to see you again, Hatter," Alice says. She talks slowly and calmly, as though talking to a Doberman. Her voice never wavers, though, as she looks The Mad Hatter directly into his vacant eyes, searching for some indication of sanity. She finds none.

"Did you say hello to my friend?" asks Hatter. He laughs again, and his mouth opens into a chasm, revealing two rows of needle pointed teeth. His face brandishes a scar that runs from his left nostril to his ear. It is a deep scar that gathers up his face into a perpetual grimacing smirk. "Dormousedormousedormousedormouse…" he rants with glee.

Alice's face contorts in disgust as she realizes that Dormouse was the creature on the stoop. Before she can even think any more, Hatter sprints out of his chair and wraps his cold hands around her neck. His long fingernails dig into the tender flesh at the nape of her neck. She flinches with the pain, her mind blank at the shock. Cheshire, not missing a beat, jumps on Hatter's head and scratches wildly at his eyes. Hatter lets out a howl as a clawed paw swipes Hatter's eye, rupturing the iris and sending fluids dripping down his mutilated face. Hatter thrashes riotously and Cheshire is pitched to the side. Things are beginning to blur, and Alice can feel the blood pumping through her purple face. On reflex, Alice's hand jumps to her thigh. She wrenches out her meat cleaver and thrusts it into The Hatter's neck. She feels her anger exploding and flashing before her eyes; it is sheer, unadulterated rage crashing on her mind, straining on her temples with urgency. A cascade of spurting blood bathes her in warmth and stickiness. The Hatter fumbles backward, wrenches the knife from his neck, and watches in bewilderment as more fluids begin to pour forth from the wound that is yawning open. The Hatter collapses in a heap, landing with a sickening thud.

Alice gasps ravenously for breath, never once taking her eyes off the lifeless body of Hatter. As Cheshire composes himself after his rather violent tumble, Alice turns away to vomit. She holds the wall for support, but finally gives up on her frail legs and slides down the wall. Cheshire limps over to her and begins to lick the speckles of blood off her face. His tongue is strangely textured and licks over her eyes and cheeks. He purrs as his pink tongue wanders over her lips. He nuzzles her neck with his black nose.

"Oh, Cat," she moans, "how I wish you were not a cat…"

Alice gets up. She spies a black velvet bag and puts the cookies into it. She ties it around Cheshire's neck securely. Her movements are very deliberate, as though it pains her to move.

"I guess we should go now," Cheshire says. "We've still got a lot of ground to cover and--Alice, are you alright?"

Alice's face is chalky. She feels her stomach drop to her toes. Her surroundings begin to deplete into tunnel vision. "Someone's waking me up," she says weakly. Her eyes roll to the back of her head as she feels her body being torn in two. "I'll be back soon, Cat. Soon…" Her voice begins to dissipate as her body seems to be eaten up by the shadows around her. Cheshire feels helpless as she is ripped away from Wonderland.

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"Dear, illustrious Duchess," Knave begins, "The Mad Hatter is dead." His voice is laced with terror, pitched so high he fears it will shatter.

"I don't really care about the Mad Hatter, do I? You filthy, little fuck!" Her words are like daggers, stabbing the air with deadly accuracy. "What of the girl? Does she live or not?"

The Knave is silent. Dread gyrates through his body, wracking the deep bowers of his soul. "No, my most--"

"SILENT! You impudent fool! You listen to me, you little piece of shit, she's gone now, but she's coming back. When she does, if that little bitch is not killed, I will make you eat your testicles and torture you from morning 'til night from now until eternity. Do you understand me?"

"Yes, honorable, marvelous, grand--"

"Get the fuck out of my sight."

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The light is blinding to Alice's hollowed eyes. She feels the restraint of the straps of the bed regulating her arms and legs. Sitting beside her bed is Nurse Elaina, with a bowl of hot soup in her lap. It smells unusually appealing to Alice, and she realizes that she is starving. Elaina smiles warmly and begins to spoon the warm soup into Alice's mouth.

"You've been out for a quite some time, deary," the woman says. "We were getting a little worried. You started thrashing in your sleep and screaming about hats and cats and queens. Well, no one knew what to think."

"Screaming?" Alice's voice is cracked and parched.

"That mean man is never going to bother you again, deary," Elaina says with a quavering voice.

"Man?"

Elaina touches Alice's bruised face. Dull pain reverberates through her cheeks. The orderly, she remembers. "That bastard will never bother anyone again," she says. Tears begin to pervade her blue eyes. "To think…you such a helpless little thing, and him…him. Oh, I don't like to think about it. You get some sleep, deary, and don't worry yourself with anything. You need your rest."

Alice realizes that she does feel exhausted. Her mind and body has been overworked. Elaina silently unties her little patient and sings her to sleep, not leaving the room until the girl's eyes are fluttering with slumber.

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