Alice of Spades.
The name was well known throughout Wonderland: The Red Alice who cut down any obstacle in her path, leaving a trail of blood.
Her sword was well known also. Its beautiful liquid silver was the last thing people would see if they got in Alice of Spade's way.
Her short brown hair ripples in the slight wind as she sits in a field of red flowers, the same color as her simple red dress.
The color of blood. Her trademark color.
Her dark brown eyes dart to the black forest. Something echoes in her head. A child's laugh.
Shaking it off, Red Alice stands up. Making her way back to her castle, she hums a simple tune that she was taught as a child.
"The first Alice was a woman of Spades—"
Alice of Spades stops. She looks around and raises her trusted sword. Nothing else is heard but the wind, which has picked up.
Slowly lowering her sword, she continues walking.
"In her courageous hand she held a sword—"
Stop. Look up. Nothing is there. The voice seems to be coming from the forest.
Red Alice takes a deep breath. Walks into the black-as-pitch forest.
"Chopping down everything in her way—"
A little bit of fear, but keep walking.
"She created a red path for herself."
Allow more fear. Walk faster and deeper into the forest.
"She wandered into the forest one day—"
Stop. Take deep breaths. Keep walking. No fear.
The trees look…strange. Doesn't matter. Keep walking.
Twisted branches. Look evil…as if they reach for her.
"She was taken in as one of their sinners."
Alice is grabbed by something. A branch. Screams. More twisted, gnarled branches. More screams. Fight. Fight back. No use.
Tears. Crying.
"Crying out into the night…"
One line echoes in her head as the blackness closes in.
"Her dream is a lonely one."
"Her dream is a lonely one."
Her dream is a lonely one."