All Characters belong to the amazing artists and writers of When Curiosity Met Insanity -
Alice woke in a soft bed. The chamber was unusually dark, even for this time of the night. She got out of bed and padded over to the window, arms outstretched to feel her way in the darkness. Her hands reached a wall, but there was no window here.
How strange… Is this not her room?
She made her way back to the bed and felt around for a lamp or candle, anything for a bit of light.
"This isn't right." She said, "What in the world is going on?"
Her hand bumped against a candlestick in a holder, near a box of matches, much to her relief. She quickly struck the match and lit the wick, impatient to see her surroundings.
The light filled the room just enough to see a small distance around her, but it was enough.
She was back in England, in her old bedroom.
"No," she groaned. "I must be dreaming."
She pulled on a nearby robe and rushed to the door, dread and confusion choking her. She opened it and stepped out into that familiar hallway, unchanged since the night she left with her small carpetbag to go back to Wonderland. A soft glow from the end of the hallway in the direction of the stairs led her down them and to the sitting room, where her mother and father sat, as they always had, though certainly not in what seemed to be the middle of the night.
"Oh, Alice!" her mother exclaimed. "What are you doing up at this hour, dear?"
"I could ask you the same," Alice replied. "I could also ask what in the world I'm doing dreaming of being back here and not in Wonderland."
Her father chuckled at her while her mother gained that cool, stern look that Alice remembered so well. It was that No-Nonsense face. "Now really, Alice, what in heaven's name are you going on about? Wonderland? Again? Young lady, I thought you had outgrown that childish fantasy."
Alice bit back the retort that rose so easily to her lips. It would do no good, if she remembered correctly. She felt the dread gather in her belly, unsure about this being a dream, after all. It was too real, and way too accurate.
"Well," her mother sniffed, dismissing the statement with a wave of her hand. "Now that you're up, sit down here. We need to discuss business with you."
The dread flared up threateningly. She thought that she should postpone this talk by claiming to be ill. Maybe it would be more convincing if she threw up on the rug. Although, on second thought, it was looking like that was going to be a viable possibility.
"Mother, I think I need to lie down…" She started, "I'm feeling a little—"
"Nonsense." Her mother barked. "Come here right now. I will not have you avoiding this talk forever."
Alice obediently crossed the room and sat near the fireplace, at the farthest point from her parents as possible. Her mother tsked and glared at her coolly. "Your father and I have been discussing the future: your future. Its time that you settled down and started a family of your own."
And there it was, all in the open now.
"Mother, I don't think that's a—"
"Alice, ladies shouldn't think. Ladies should be obedient and quiet. Now, tomorrow we will go and fetch you a new dress from Bonham's and we will go visit Sir Brandon and his wife. Their son will be eager to meet you."
"Oh Mother, not—" She fought back her dismay and disgust for the unwelcome prospect. The man in question had absolutely no imagination! What would they do? Sit and stare at each other next to the fireplace every day for all eternity because he wasn't intelligent enough for a decent conversation? She'd rather run through the town in her night rail! Twice!
Her mother's glare pinned her to the spot. "You could do worse. The young man is rich and influential. You will have a decent household to maintain and its large enough for you to live in without even seeing your husband, if that's what concerns you."
It all came roaring back for Alice: The walls closing in on her, the air becoming to thick for her to breathe, her head spinning wildly in desperation. This is what drove her back to Wonderland. This place wasn't for people like her. She belonged with Belle, Ears, and…
"Reginald!" She cried as she rose from her seat. "I want to wake up!"
Her mother and father stared at her in mute surprise at her outburst.
"Alice, Good heavens! What has gotten into you?" Her mother cried.
"Who's Reginald?" Her father gruffed.
Alice began to pace, smacking her head with her fists, "I WANT TO WAKE UP NOW!"
The stunned silence in the room gave her pause and she opened her eyes hopefully.
Her mother still sat there, mouth open in shock, while her father, half rising from his seat, reached a hand out to his daughter, fearing that she may have gone completely insane.
Tears filled her blue eyes. "Why aren't I waking up?"
….
Reginald snapped awake from his doze. So, it was a dream then? He could have sworn he heard her calling his name.
Belle was talking with Ears in the kitchen as she stirred a pot of soup. How nice of her to come after the terrible fright he must have given her. He did a mental inventory and came to the same conclusion: A rock had made its home where his heart was. The blanket slipped off him and onto the floor. He sat up and looked up to see the two watching him grimly. They didn't have to say a word.
He had been calling her in his sleep. He had been crying her name like a man lost at sea, begging and pleading for her to come back.
"Drink this," Belle said, holding out a bowl. "You need to get something in your stomach."
The smell of the soup made him want to retch. He raised a hand to push away the bowl, but was stopped by Ears. Traitor.
"Please Reg." Ears pleaded. "It's been days."
And it had. Two days of dead ends and disappointment. They found the order of books she was on her way to deliver, pushed into a ditch. No one had seen or heard from her. When he hired a bloodhound, her scent had led them nowhere. It was as if she had vanished.
Reginald felt a flicker in his chest, like a small flame sputtering, ready to go out. If that flame went out, what would be left of him?
Belle suddenly knelt and put her hand out. Reginald sat up and shook off his lethargy in an instant. She turned and held up the dormouse to Reginald, her face questioning.
"What did you find out, my friend?" Reginald asked, carefully taking the small creature in his gloved hand.
"My brothers and sisters saw it, Hatter. Your Alice was walking on the road and was stopped by a cloaked beggar. They exchanged words and she dropped her books." The dormouse reported dutifully.
Reginald's eyes hardened. "Go on," He urged.
"Your Alice took a paper and wrote something, folding it and handing it to the beggar, then she walked into the woods, disappearing into the fog."
"Fog?" Ears whispered. "It doesn't fog here."
Reginald pulled a teapot out of his orange coat and opened it, allowing the weary dormouse to tumble inside. "Thank you, little brother" He whispered to the teapot, carefully putting the it back in his coat.
Ears and Belle exchanged a look and waited expectantly. Reginald quietly stood and straightened his coat. He walked to the door and retrieved his large hat, placing it upon his head. Stepping out into the warm evening air, he faced the northern sky.
"Cheshire Cat!" He roared into the night. "We seek your aid!"
"A very unwise choice…" a disembodied voice replied, "But I have been waiting for you to remember me, Hatter…"
A mist appeared, swirling in place and condensing into no particular shape, part of it splitting into an unmistakable white grin.
Belle and Ears gasped and looked away, not willing to make eye contact with the Cat. Reginald had no such inhibitions. Insanity was nothing new to him. He stepped forward and bowed, sweeping his hat off in a grand gesture.
"Cheshire Cat, you owe me a favor and I would like to call it in."
The misty shape rolled in place and the grin became feral. "For Alice?" the Cat mused. "You want me to go fetch your errant unrequited love? How delicious…" the words faded into cold laughter. "I thought you were smarter than that, my dear Hatter. I am a little disappointed."
"No," Reginald said, "That is not my request." His voice became soft and forbidding. "I want you to bring me to the Looking Glass."
The mist froze. With a burst of movement, the shape of a large cat emerged and launched towards Reginald's face, both unearthly eyes wide open, and the vertical slits were as narrow as threads. The Cat stared, inches away, into his eyes, the grin now barred with fangs.
"Do you know what you're doing, Hatter?" the Cat hissed.
Reginald stared back unyieldingly, the icy fury rolling out of his eyes. "You owe me, Cheshire Cat." He snarled.
The Cat's pupils widened slightly. He tumbled back into a shapeless mist, chuckling darkly. "I like that look in your eyes, Hatter. It suits you." The voice bubbled into laughter. "I'll grant your request, Hatter, and consider us square." The mist rolled, tumbling into the darkness. "You do not know what you are about to unleash, Hatter, but it worries me not." The mist paused, an afterthought hovering in the air. "Maybe it is time for you to pay your debts to her, Hatter." The laughter returned, echoing through the trees.
The mist faded. Reginald slumped wearily and was caught on both sides by Ears and Belle.
"I'll take that soup now, if you don't mind, Belle." He murmured, flashing a small, very Reginald-like smile.
….
Alice opened her eyes and licked her torn and chapped lips. The stinging pain brought her fully awake. She was vertical, that was certain. She leaned forward and felt her forehead meet solid glass.
With a short cry of confusion, she lifted her hand and the chain attached to her wrist shackle became taut, preventing her from bringing her hand any higher than her waist.
Panic set in as she struggled, finding herself completely trapped. Her feet were shackled to the surface her back was against, her cell only as wide as she could reach with her chained hands. She was in an upright, rectangular coffin with a clear glass lid, a macabre display case.
"No…" She breathed, feeling her throat close in terror. She frantically searched the outside for anything or anyone. All that she could see was a Victorian-style parlor, but with furniture stretched and deformed, as if it was a reflection from a carnival mirror.
Wonderland, then? But where, and how….?
She remembered the beggar on the road. She remembered the sudden shock as the beggar blew something in her face, forcing her to breathe it in…feeling the compulsion to write a letter at their command… And that was all. Was she kidnapped? Trapped in here like a trophy in a cabinet?
"No…." She panted, her breath fogging against the glass. This couldn't be real.
A figure in the room stood and walked to the glass. She couldn't make out their face in the hood… jacket? The person reached out and turned a dial to the side of her prison and she heard the hiss of gas being released.
She shrank back from the vents that opened above her head but it was too late. The pale gas was already in her mouth, in her nose… She was weakening! She gathered her breath to scream...