DISCLAIMER: The characters are not mine, they belong (originally) to Lewis Carroll and various affiliated companies. The idea that inspired the story belongs to American McGee. There is no intention of plagiarism or copyright infringement. Everyone will be returned safe and sound, with food in their bellies and smiles on their faces (:D).
Poor little Alice
So full of Malice
Her dress is stained red
Her eyes they are dead
Alice awoke screaming, scrabbling before her in the darkness. The air was filled with the cloying metallic scent of blood; it suffocated her, the screams dying as she struggled to breathe. A sliver of silvery light appeared, so far away, and in an instant the room was flooded. Alice found she could breathe, her panic eased, until she looked down at her dress. Instead of blue, it was red. Soothing darkness overcame her.
--
As Alice crumpled to the floor, Hatter moved nearer, cautiously. Alice wasn't safe to be around anymore. It frightened him; as she grew more insane his moments of lucidity increased. At times he wondered if it might not be better to return her to her world where she may receive the care she needed, but that thought was overcome by his desire to have her near. At 20 she was almost ethereal, although in her current state it was impossible to see. Once more he checked the shackle around her ankle, ensured her porcelain skin wasn't marred. He brushed her hair off of her forehead when suddenly her blue eyes burst open. The death in them terrified him and he scurried to a corner, cursing his lucidity.
'Poor little Alice…so full of Malice…' she whispered over and over again.
In the Red Queen's last action, she had injected something into Alice that had turned her into this…horrid beast. And yet, he still loved her. Even though she had wreaked havoc on Wonderland, bringing death and destruction, he still loved her. And only he and the cat knew where she was now. The March Hare had known, but had fallen victim to her. The Hatter wanted so much to fix it, but didn't know how. He left the room, closing the door behind him and plunging Alice into darkness.
--
Alice sat in the darkness, still, so very still. She held her breath and counted, reaching 38 before she thought her head might explode. Wished it would. The man before, she remembered him…the Mad Hatter. Remembered tea. He wasn't so mad now, more…sad. Remembered he had loved her, before all this. And then the red haze overcame her and all memory was lost. Animal instinct told her to pull at the chain binding her to this place, but a small part of her knew it was futile. She would bide her time.
--
The Hatter's hands shook around his teacup. Cheshire looked up from his milk with a forehead creased in worry.
'She cannot remain here, she is dangerous.' He said.
The Hatter sighed.
'I know. But what are we to do with her?'
'I will ask the Caterpillar. Wait for my return.'
And with that the cat was gone. His disappearing act still unnerved the Hatter, and he threw his cup at the empty space the cat had been only moments ago. It shattered, bits of ceramic tinkling on the floor. He knew the cat could be gone days; he and the Caterpillar didn't exactly get on very well. Until then he would have to protect her. He made some fresh tea and took it down to Alice's room. She was awake, sitting oh-so-still exactly where he had left her before. He put the cup on the floor and, using a stick, pushed it close enough that she could grab it. This she did, and sipped at it delicately before screeching 'Change places' in a perfect imitation of his voice and throwing the cup at him. He ducked and it shattered in a manner similar to its brother upstairs, and for a moment he felt sorry for the teacups. They hadn't done anything. He looked at Alice, who had her head buried in her hands. He could hear her sobbing gently.
'…Hatter…help me…' she moaned.
All at once his defences broke. It was Alice, his Alice, and he rushed to her side, gathering her in his arms and whispering soothingly as he kissed her forehead. He missed the dead glint in eyes blurred with tears. Alice kissed his eyes, his lips, his neck…she tore into his throat with her teeth. The last thing the Hatter heard as his blood drained away was her maniacal laughter…which sounded strangely like that of the Red Queen…strange…
Poor little Alice
So full of Malice
Her dress is stained red
Her eyes they are dead