You Are Ours, Alice

Run, duck, and cover is what it means, and I do just that.

I break into a run, and right away whoever or whatever's after me also ceases any attempt to conceal its presence. I feel air literally swooshing as it tries to grab me, but I somehow manage to duck and squat just in time, and I hear it hiss in rage.

I run as fast as I can, and the pounding of my heart as well as the music in the air actually keep up its frantic pace, its tempo practically tripling its speed that it now plays like the blitzkrieg version of a waltz.

I'm just running and running.

Anything to save my ass.

But...it's not enough.

I can feel it getting closer.

Hungrier.

And when I feel it preparing to pounce, my lips part—-

"Hatter!"

I've already screamed it by the time I realize what name has slipped past my lips, and I scream it again as claws capture my shoulders from behind. I'm spun around, and terror eats at me when I finally see the face of my captor.

Ears with razor-sharp tips, flashing red eyes, and a tail that makes terrible slapping sounds against the ground. But the worst thing about the creature is its decaying flesh, and I'm torn between fear and disgust when it opens its mouth and blood-stained incisors flash in the night.

A zombie dormouse.

I'm about to be eaten by a bloody zombie dormouse if I don't do something—-

"HAAAAAAATTTTTTEEEEEEEEEER!"

The dormouse screeches in anger, and as its claws slash against my skin, I prepare for the fight of my life.

Here we fucking go, Addie!

But before I can draw another breath, a sharp wind slaps my face as something leaps over me and snatches the dormouse off in a lightning-quick blur. I hear something roar, the sound so frighteningly powerful the hairs at the back of my neck stand up. I turn towards it...just in time to see a bloody huge lion hold up the zombie dormouse in the air.

The dormouse lets out a shrill sound of rage as it struggles, even attempting to use its long, fleshy, rotten tail to strike at the lion.

But it's no use.

The lion only tears its tail off, and the dormouse once again screeches, this time in pain. For a few moments, the lion simply stares at the creature it has dangling from its paw, and the utter absence of mercy in its golden gaze makes me want to throw up.

Now I know what a predator looks like, when it's trying to decide whether to continue playing with its prey...or just be done with it.

The dormouse, probably sensing impending doom, makes a futile attempt to scratch the lion's eyes. But it backfires. The lion visibly loses interest at seeing its prey so weakened, and with a quick ruthless swipe of one of its blade-like nails, the lion slices the dormouse's throat open.

And everything is silent once again.

Just Strauss' The Blue Danube settles back to a waltz as the lion loosens its hold, and the dormouse falls lifelessly on the ground, its red eyes still wide open.

For one moment I can only stare at it, unable to believe how swiftly the wheels of fate can spin from one direction to another. I should be the one lying dead, my throat slit open, my blood spilling into the roots of scarecrow trees if not for one golden-maned lion...

Lion.

Memory kicks in, and I remember Chassie telling me that Wunderland's most powerful were-lion is none other than...

The Mad Hatter.

It's my last thought as a hand covers my mouth from behind with a handkerchief, and the world starts to blur as I inhale a flowery scent.

Drugged.

I'm being bloody drugged by The Mad Hatter?

So much for prophecies and fated mates.?? Saw x Tea Party ??YES, YOU READ THAT right. Ever since falling into that stupid rabbit hole, waking up to strange places have become the bloody norm. And this time? It's those three words that pop up the moment I regain consciousness, and I find my reflection staring back at me from everywhere.

Roof, walls, ceilings? Glass.

Furniture? Glass.

Teacups, plates, and cutlery? Glass.

Even the ropes that have me gagged and bound to a chair are like glass: smooth, transparent, but sadly not fragile in any way.

The only things that aren't glass are either edible or terrible, and they add splashes of color to a glasshouse that's been planted in the middle of the woods. Think glowing red-topped mushrooms on a glass plate, lavender petals inside a glass teapot, and delicious pastel-colored pastries artfully arranged on multi-tiered glass trays. But on the other side of the spectrum you get the brown handles of butcher knives, the black casing of a portable drill, and just about any other ugly, dark-colored torture devices you can think of - it's all there, hanging side by side from glass hooks.

Like I said: Saw x Tea Party. It's the collab no one ever wanted, and cold sweat instantly coats my skin when I hear a door swing open from behind, followed by feminine whispers and the staccato beats of stilettos striking the glass floor. The noise gets louder as they come closer, and I can't help sucking my breath in, preparing myself for the worst—-