Disclaimer: I do not own Pandora Hearts.
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Just Desserts
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Alice followed him with the prospects of...well, cake.
Oh, and then there was the job part. Can't forget about that.
"You look competent enough," he had told her. "I'll tell you what—you come work for us and I'll be generous and throw in a couple of nice pastries and petit fours during your breaks."
That caught her attention. Petit fours? Done deal.
During their walk over ("It's not far. Right down the block, in fact."), in a much unused corner of her head where rational, cautious Alice currently dwelled, there was plenty of arguing and cursing ensuing.
This guy could be a murderer for all you know, a psycho axe murderer who lures pretty girls with promises of pretty cakes and other wonderful confectionaries. He'll butcher you with a cleaver and leave you scattered in different dumpsters...—And what's up with that damn hair? Is that its natural color?
Oh I dunno...but he mentioned free samples, her stomach reasoned, completely missing the point of that spiel.
Focus! rational Alice headed.
Oh. The business card. Her mind slowly slunk out of its pit. He showed us his business card.
Ever heard of Kinko's? Anyone can make a business card...You're dead, girl.
"H-hey, Mister—" she uneasily started. Oblivious, the man continued without even noticing the discomforted girl behind him. "Mister, umm..."
She didn't even know his name! Really, her mother taught her better than this. Following a stranger who makes such sugary promises is the first thing they teach you not to do when you're a kid. She'd always been a bit rash, but in all her sixteen years of life she'd never done anything of this sort.
Alice decided that she was just naïve enough to believe him.
It so happened, while she concluded her misgivings and as they rounded a corner, the man stopped abruptly.
"Ah. Here we are."
She stared up, squinting and taking in the bright looming awning above her.
...oh.
So the place did exist and her eviscerated parts wouldn't be found three days later.
Wonderland Patisserie et Cafe, it read in a cutesy script.
In fact, there was a lot of cute-ness going on around there. She noted the pink, the tiffany-blue, and other girlish—heh, garish more like it—pastels that made up the store-front. In the window a display of dancing rabbits and prancing ...unicorns?... made up a little welcome sign to beckon would-be patrons.
Huh.
As if knowing exactly what she was mulling over, the man waved a flippant hand.
"The shop is catered to the owner's tastes. I just make the cakes. Anyhow, come on in, young lady."
That made sense, because honestly she just could not picture a grown man fawning over all the "pretty colors." Unless he was that way, but that was a subject she would have to debate at another time.
And so Alice conceded, casting him a wary, speculative eye as he pushed the door open, allowing her passage.
What awaited her on the other side, almost took her breath away.
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A/N: Oh, Break. Don't you know it's wrong to pick up stray girls?