A/N: Ok guys, after I've made several edits to the format of chapter one. Anyway, I don't think I gave quite enough credit to Shaun in the previous chapter. Well, I would like you all to know that this story would have been impossible, or perhaps not nearly as substantial, had it not been for his assistance in this story's creation. In any case, I would like you all to know that this chapter is something of a recap or fill-in on some points on Alice's past that were neglected in the previous chapter.

Disclaimer: Same as the last chapter.

To Reviewers!

Whispy: Thank you luff, for reviewing even after I cut you to pieces with a chainsaw… well… you hugged it… that's your fault, right? Well anyway, thank you for that… squishy bit of input... Yeah. It is much appreciated. Don't you have ANY criticism? feels loved.

Ah, and Jiej! (who is the second reviewer… I just call her Jiejie…) Thank you! No criticisms? Jeesh, you people and your…. Niceness. Ah well, thanks. I shouldn't complain!

Bri…I mean… Sam8theStrawberry- Hi! I luff you too! Thank you for the utterly nice review!

Swordsrock! Yay! you reviewed! Spiffifull! Well, no, I didn't mean fell fury. But that doesn't mean I won't still kill you....

Chapter 2, Seeing

Ah, the killing had been indeed exhilarating; however the girl's energy had been spent. Alice found herself contented to see that the fire that had always been present within this room was ablaze even in the heat of summer. She set herself down in a heavily cushioned armchair and stared dreamily into the flickering flames in the fireplace, listened to the soothing crackle that seemed to say so much more to her then did the voices of putrid humanity. The clock's death had eased her immediate upheaval of irrational anger, and the said clock lay at her feet, leaking oil all over the fine white rug. The events of this day had been trying for Alice, if not physically, then mentally. Never had she managed to comprehend so much all at once.

Now was the time to get lost. Though there was no Black Kitty to assist her in this constant feat, she had nothing to do but try and lose herself. The evil in the world twisted her head to the point of no return, and bliss could only be achieved when the girl escaped into the deepest chambers of her mind. There, things were still okay. They believed her there…. Despite the commotion the screaming clock had caused among the strange residents of the Looking-Glass House, Alice went utterly catatonic for the moment, and was gone, faded beyond anyone's reach in memories. She was gone.

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Alice looked back at her sister with a soft smile as she was sent for tea. Though tea had hardly any appeal after her romp with the Hatter and the Hare, she knew that her sister would like her to go. And how could she disobey, having been sent off with such a gentle kiss? Her sister seemed to be thinking, as Alice often did.

"I do wonder," she said aloud, "if that wasn't a dream at all! It was perhaps too real for that. Yes, that's certainly it. Wonderland is real." Alice stated firmly. "Anita even seems to be lost in it. Really, she does. She sees the white rabbit quite as well as I had, but I do hope that she doesn't get lost as quickly as I did." Alice sighed softly, gazing down at Dinah who was following at the young girl's heels dutifully, toying at the hem of sky-blue skirts, as she would not venture near the clamor of the barnyard. This was how days should always be… always—

"Alice, do stop talking such nonsense, child!" Muttered her nurse impatiently. Suddenly, it was spring…. Summer had long faded away, and Anita had engrossed herself so deeply in her studies that she was hard to reach. Not even her sister listened to her stories of her adventures in Wonderland anymore. Now the nurses had to put up with Alice's storytelling, as her parents hardly had the time to spend on her anymore. The nurses were growing tired of her unending, nonsensical stories. "This… Looking-Glass House does not exist. Stop insisting that it does or I shall have to box you in the ears."

Alice grew quite serious, tugging on the hem of the older woman's skirts, "But these places, they are real! Anita even says so. She'll tell her children and even their children about where I went in Wonderland! And Kitty can tell you about the Looking-Glass House, honest she can!" Alice was beyond protocol at this point. She disliked people taking her words so without care and it was beginning to become more then she could stand. It had been two years now since she'd been to Wonderland, and Alice was willing to tell anybody who would listen about her recent adventures through the looking-glass in the front room. There inlayed the problem. None were willing to listen to what they considered "prattle" from a growing girl, not even Anita, who now rarely patronized her childish attributes. The young woman was changing as well as Alice, growing more austere and less tolerable of Alice's "growing imagination" or anybody else, for that matter. Because nobody would stand to take note of Alice or her habits, it was understandable that they would not see how she subsided into herself more and more often……………..

Softer memories had faded altogether. Years later, now, Alice was ten. "Alice," Anita attempted to sooth the nervous girl before her, "I have some bad news, dear." Anita had remained so distant that her closeness with Alice had mostly dwindled, but the girls' parents had decided to let Anita deal with Alice's discrepancies. Now all Anita wanted was to get this little conversation over with. "We found Dinah, Alice. She wasn't lost….. She died a very peaceful death in the field. She was very old, you know." Alice got very quiet, and for a moment Anita was about to turn around and leave, wondering if Alice was going to go glassy-eyed and thoughtless as she had been doing on and off as of late. It was a very unsettling thing to do and recent company had been shaken by it.

"No, I don't know." Alice stamped a foot vehemently, refusing to believe the truth in her sister's words. Lately, Alice and that cat had grown very close. Anita was no longer relieved. Her sister's voice unnerved her entirely and she wavered a moment… then her sister turned on her heel and darted from the room at breakneck speed. The sound of breaking glass could be heard somewhere else in the house as well as the sharp reprimand of the nurses. There were so few of them now, Alice realized vaguely as she tore through the house, ripping down family portraits and the like. This resulted in the boxing of her ears and Alice was sent to her room….. And that room swirled into nothingness…

Then there was a knife in Alice's hand, sinking blissfully into ivory skin. Crimson liquid bubbled around the blade, pooled against white. Oh how sweet was the pain, ingrained into her, so strong as to blot out the frustration of misunderstanding that everyone seemed to have of her and her thoughts. Alice had subsided, and only Black Kitty could help her now… was the only one who just didn't care anymore. Alice was too old for a nurse now, 12 years old, and most of them had left, much to the ignorant curiosity of Alice….. The pain melted away as a butterfly fluttered down from some unknown place and soaked the red from her arms with its pretty wings and the world was so at peace. Nobody disturbed her. And Dinah was there, looking at Alice with a wide, sharp-fanged grin that only Alice could deem normal at this point. "Dinah" did not speak, but her tail flickered back and forth. Everything about the cat was the same as it had been when Alice was able to touch her but for that unseemly grin.

"You know Alice; you know what you have to do... Go back."

"They say that I can't, Dinah. They even call you dead! How do they speak such nonsense so shamelessly, Dinah?"

"They tell you I am dead, and I am clearly not, Alice. They are wrong about Wonderland as well. Your friends miss you very much there, dear. Go back to them."

"How?" She asked desperately, reaching for the cat with everything she had. But Dinah was gone, and the knife returned.

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Alice's eyes grew hard once more as awareness plagued her. She was awake. Where was Dinah? Gone again, she supposed. Her limp, pale body stiffened again and Alice got to her feet and tossed her head in a manner that had stayed with her since she had been very young. That was about the only thing that hadn't changed as far as Alice's little habits. She had no time to waste in becoming the Red Queen again. From here, Alice figured she could do anything she wished. She twirled around dreamily, enjoying the spread of her black dress beneath her and the shadows cast upon it by the small fire writhing in the fireplace. The strange dance ended and Alice hardly took a moment to regain balance.

As Alice made her way to the front door, a gravely voice called tauntingly to her from the fireplace wall. "Killed a helpless clock, little girl. How without sense you must be!"

Alice's head whipped around with a near audible "snap", attempting to see what had produced the unpleasant comment. One of the many living portraits on the walls of the Looking-Glass House stared down at her, smirking smugly. She gazed back at it venomously, glassy blue eyes smooth, dreamy, and yet sharp and piercing. Her coal-black dress fluttered with the sharp movement of her whole body as she turned to face the offending painting. After that, Alice remained perfectly still, shadows cast by dancing flames depicting something entirely eerie, many of her features tossed into obscurity so that it was very difficult to read her expression. The painting seemed undaunted.

"He mocked me with his smile, Painting. I wonder what you would do, should you be mocked. I do suppose that it would be quite senseless not to put one in his place. Don't you feel very much the same?" Several other portraits had cast their eyes in the direction of the portrait of the balding man who had first addressed Alice to see just what he would do next.

"I certainly wouldn't do that! It was quite cruel, young lady. I shouldn't like to see at thing like that ever again. Why, what with the nonsense in that death, I should think you a lunatic not fit for a home like this!" Those words had sealed the portrait's fate.

Alice was suddenly and entirely calm, letting her head fall to the side in a mock-inquisitive manner. "I'm not a lunatic. And this place was made quite for me and me alone. Shall I rid the world of those that do not please me? Yes, yes, I think that is what I will do." Once, Alice had been very polite, very careful to avoid argument or senseless talk. This portrait, for a change, was something more sensible then much of what she had encountered in the past, but too much so to please her. The said portrait began to look a might nervous at the prospect her last words had presented. The other portraits and paintings grinned or frowned, depending on how they had perceived what Alice had said.

"Now don't look at me like that, you silly thing." It complied instantly, attempting to find another way to look at her. It was much too late, though, to attempt to correct himself and Alice was already standing on the armchair beneath him. Standing on the tips of her toes and keeping balance beautifully, she was about to rip the painting from the wall…. But much to the relief of the balding man in the picture, she hopped from the cushion and instead glared up at the painting with what was apparently growing fury.

"If I'm to learn anything about controlling this place… I ought to practice now, oughtn't I?" she asked herself with a wide, insane grin. "Do let's pretend that the nail behind you is gone, you ugly thing!" Alice spat at the portrait. Ah, wasn't that how it all started? With the words, "Let's pretend" she had first made it through the looking glass. She was quite sure that the results with this painting would be equally satisfying. And so they were. The painting slid from the wall sharply, crashing against the floor with an audible and sickening "crack" akin to that of a smashing skull. Alice's grin widened once more as she plucked the poor, fearful painting from its place on the floor. With a swift, lithe movement, the portrait was in the fire, screaming fitfully.

This taken care of, Alice strode confidently out the door of the Looking-Glass House. She was quick to stop short, stamping a foot and glaring out at the fields… ah… she remembered what had to be done. Alice couldn't get anywhere unless she remembered precisely what had to be done to leave the house. Alice WANTED to get back into the garden of flowers, tell the flowers what she had learned. And they would listen, or she would do more them simply "pick" them. Not far off the on the green horizon, a more dense bit of foliage appeared to her. Lovely. There it was. She twirled gracefully on her heel and strode in the opposite direction, eyes staring dreamily up at the sky.

"It should be a day of clouds, Dinah, should it not?" There was a pause.

"Good then, you agree, I'd have to stab the sky with Father's sword should my words prove quite wrong." Laughing for no apparent reason, Alice watched the clouds a moment more… until, of course, she came upon the flowers, all so very quiet for the time being.

"Speak! Or I shall call Dinah!" She ordered with a flourish of her hand. The rose that had been there previously was no longer there to greet her with its severities. For the rose's sake, this was likely a good thing. It was not; however, a very pleasant thing for the rose bush that had been left in its stead.

"Who is Dinah?"

"Yes, yes who is she?"

"Answer us, little girl!"

"You shouldn't tell us the name of someone and not tell us quite well who they are!" The daisies were saying too many things at once, much more then 'poor Alice' could exactly comprehend right away. The look of frustration crossing her features was one to be feared.

"You should quite know who Dinah is, you disrespectful, talkative things!" She glared at the daisies, and much to the dismay of the other flowers, they began to wail in pain under that pair of crazed eyes. Writhing and twisting and howling beneath a grin and a glare, the daisies were soon contorted into scorched, dark things. The eyes they once had were mere slits at the centers of their faces, and grins not unlike that of the Cheshire Cat and what Alice envisioned to be Dinah spread across their little, adorable faces. Their petals, once bright yellow, were quite a deep, poisoned purple, almost dead looking. Their stems had taken on a sickening black hue that the fourteen-year-old particularly enjoyed.

Alice wasn't too much larger then most of the other flowers, but it appeared the rest of the them would be careful of what they said, and they had to say something for fear that any attempt at silence would be destroyed with another of those maniacal stares. The roses were unfortunately still rather severe.

"Why, you didn't have to do that!!!" A rose stated bluntly.

"Not at all! Dear, I believe we were once told of you... but you're petals look quite dead. We don't want you here. " Cried the high-pitched voice of another as it swayed to and fro on its thorny branch dramatically.

Once Alice might have even avoided upsetting the queer little things altogether. Here she simply smiled and hacked the pair of complaining roses from the hedge with the sword she still carried. Much to her delight, blood flowed steadily from the broken stems and appeared to pain the other roses to the point of tears. The daisies, once amiable and talkative, were at this point simply grinning maliciously. The pansies hid their children's eyes from the 'carnage' before them. Alice only smirked softly, senselessly as a trespassing breeze plucked at her thick, silken blonde hair. The sky was suddenly quite dark but Alice enjoyed this too much to be concerned about its cause as she spread her arms to allow the wind full passage about her. It picked up her dress and petticoats and brought them against her legs, apron flapping aimlessly. Her eyes closed to the comfort in the chill air. Something did, however, draw her from this peaceful pose. The flowers were whimpering. Alice did not bother to destroy them for she knew, in time, the deranged little daisies most certainly would. Still, as the source of their dismay did not seem to be her, she finally cast her frozen gaze in the thing's direction. This happened to be the thing producing such darkness.

Alice smiled with something between glee and insanity. A massive, vicious looking crow soared overhead. Alice knew precisely where it was going. It was off to break of the Tweedle's fight. 7 years before, Alice had run in terror at the sight of the big, wicked looking thing. Now Alice simply noted that she could not recall an occurrence in which she had seen something so very black, and continued to ponder aloud.

"I do think I shall have that crow. I have not seen a thing so well shining. Won't they all think me so very brave back home should I tame that big black crow?" Alice smiled mirthlessly at that very thought. Of course, she had her two pet Kitties, but she couldn't ride such creatures. As deeply as Alice's mind had delved into itself, it wasn't so far out of the way for her to think of a crow the size of an elephant to be the perfect steed. And so she laughed again with that abnormally chilling, halfhearted laugh and took off down the path, kicking a pebble now and then with a child-like bliss. The wind toyed with her hair and her dress and the bow that held her apron in check and she twirled lazily, stumbling and staring senselessly at the sky. Beneath that cold, liquid gaze rested a mind more twisted then what it even perceived the world. Alice was simply content to know that she would soon ride astride a big black birdie and that Dinah paced alongside her and still only she could see.

"I must be a special, intelligent girl," Alice mused, eyes questing ahead once more, chancing upon the far off black bird. This was true seeing. Alice could truly sight hope a darker world on the horizon. It was no longer a matter of belief. What came next was being. And for this she had to be an intelligent, special little girl.

"I'm glad you think so, too, Dinah," Alice smiled with something akin to happiness, clasping her hands behind her back. She began to skip a strange, jerky skipped that was quite as deranged as Alice herself. Soon she could fly. She would have wings. Alice would be able to make scream any being below her first because of her adorable black birdie and later because of her reputation as a strong and gallant woman not to be trifled with. And then she could get her fill of deaths. Wouldn't that be pleasant? Oh it most certainly would. She could hear the tortured screams of someone unfortunate enough to cross her, could see a blood-bathed Wonderland at her feet, could smell the stink of death stinging the inside of her nostrils kindly, and she could taste the metallic tang of rot on her tongue. Alice could even feel her fingers wrap around the throat of an unsuspecting passerby. could She giggled coldly. Wings would indeed be a blessing.

These thoughts only heated the odd jerk to her skip. Alice, whom for so long had been a captive to a society that supposed itself to be "normal", would be free. More importantly, Alice would be unleashed.