Alice in the Village of the Head Swappers:
(1911 A.D., Beyond the Wall, Old Wonderland, the Realm of Ishrakie)
Alice lies passed out in a chair in the main foyer of the cottage, surrounded by many villagers examining her with trepid curiosity. One man with a tanned face and pale arms cracks his knuckles nervously. A hovering woman fiddles anxiously with her apron as Alice finally stirs from her sleep. The young girl's eyes flicker open slowly as her vision returns to her. Many fearful stares greet her as Alice examines the small crowd huddled around her. Her head throbs with pulsating pain. The last thing she remembers is staring down into a cup of tea with a slice of lemon floating in it like a disembodied smile.
To her surprise, she finds she is still holding the cup, though much of its contents has since spilled onto the dirty and tattered remains of her dress. Alice turns to the small table next to her, setting down the tea, too suspicious of its contents to continue drinking. Her body feels weak, her nauseous stomach being made worse by the aching agony in her skull.
After a few more moments of tense silence, there comes heavy knocking at the door of the cottage. A man answers the door, greeting a woman in a green dress. They each remove their heads and exchange them. The woman leaves wearing the man's head. The man with the woman's head sits down and fiddles with the buttons on his shirt. Alice's heart withers, she should have known it was too good to be true. She is still trapped in this awful place. She forces herself not to cry.
"We were told you ran away when the procedure started. What happened?"
She isn't sure who spoke. The cottage is cosy with wood-panelled walls, a red rug, white curtains, with a large jug and a water basin with clay dishes beside it on a long table. Villagers both sit and stand around the room.
She spoke, "There's been a mistake. I've never been here before, but I need help. I'm afraid I have completely lost my way. Please tell me where I am. I am looking for a Pale Tower."
The villagers just stare at her, some shrugging shoulders or looking more terrified by the moment. Two of them exchange heads, but it doesn't help their confusion. The crowd of people parts, revealing to Alice who has been speaking to her. A strange old woman in a dull grey dress with milky white eyes walks toward Alice, coming to a stop a few paces away.
"Dear girl, we have never heard of a Pale Tower. Is this a place on the other side of the wall?"
"No… I mean I did come from the other side of the wall, but that place is not my home, which is why I must find this Pale Tower… Please have any of you heard anything about where it might be?" pleads Alice.
"ENOUGH, from where do you hail?"
Fear shoots through Alice's spine at the suddenly aggressive tone of the woman.
"England, I'm from England."
"How did you get here?" asks the woman, her tone continuing to get more intimidating, making it feel more like an interrogation than a conversation.
"I don't know. I fell asleep and woke up in this place. At first, I thought I was dreaming. But this crazed nightmare of talking rabbits, murderous cardmen, and tea parties just won't go away," responds Alice, her anxiety rising with each passing moment.
"Why did you cross the Wall?" presses the woman.
"I told you I am trying to get home," repeats Alice, her tone growing more exasperated.
"STOP YOUR LYING… Now tell us who sent you or we will throw you back over the Wall," demands the woman stamping her foot.
"NO PLEASE… You can't, the Red Queen is there. She won't stop until she has my head," begs Alice as some of the people touch their necks at her words. Alice notices as they touch their necks that they all have thin dark seam-like lines across their necks. Outside a nearby window, Alice spots Sister Butterfly who waves at her, gesturing for Alice to come speak to her.
"I'm sorry, please excuse me for a moment."
"NOT TILL YOU TELL US WHO SENT YOU," shouts a nearby brute of a man as Alice climbs to her feet and makes her way towards the door.
The old woman gestures for the man to be silent and lets Alice pass.
Alice rushes over to the Sister Butterfly only to find her friend is already flapping away. There is another butterfly with her. The golden sunlight shining down heats their azure wings as they dance together like weightless sapphires. When Sister Butterfly sees Alice, she flies over to her, holding hands with her new companion.
"Meet my partner. I met him in the abandoned city up north. He is taking me to his family's mating grounds! It's all so romantic. But I did not want you to worry about me, so I came to say goodbye."
"Wait… What? Do you mean you are leaving? Will I ever see you again?" responds Alice, dismayed.
"Of course not, it is time for me to settle down and start a family," answers Sister Butterfly.
"Wait… Please. This is all so sudden. I'm afraid and don't know what to do. You're my only friend here. Can you stay with me just a little while longer?" asks Alice desperately.
The butterflies move a distance away, and Alice hears their secret whispers. The villagers have filed out of the cottage and now stand watching the scene unfolding between Alice and the butterflies. The whispers of the butterflies grow louder and the partner's deeper voice gains an angry, desperate tone.
"I'm sorry, dear, but we simply can't wait. We all have to grow up sometime. Honestly, I thought you would be happy for me, not try to hold me back in this extended childhood you are holding onto," responds Sister Butterfly, her tone now dismissive and cruel.
"What are you talking about? I'm still only…" Alice pauses, realising she isn't sure how old she is anymore.
Despite her efforts, tears drench her cheeks. She has never felt so alone. Her arms go limp as the two butterflies fly off into the distance.
"The girl was talking to those butterflies! She has already admitted she comes from over the Wall!" shouts the brute of a man.
"She is lying. The Queen's not after her. She's a spy sent by the Queen! She must be," rages the woman to the crowd gathering around Alice.
Alice, hearing the accusations, becomes ever more aware of the intimidatingly large crowd closing in on her.
"No, I'm not… please!" cries Alice as she stumbles backward away from the villagers.
One villager, a tall, plump woman, advances upon Alice from the side. The plump woman places her head on Alice's shoulder, startling her. Alice jerks away.
"She's just a young girl. She is not a spy. Let's give her the procedure again and everything will be fine," reasons the plump woman to the mob.
Alice, grateful for the woman's defence, is suddenly taken aback. That word 'procedure'. The word snaps her from her momentary relief as the image of her nearly headless twin lying near the river comes back to her. Many of the villagers point at her, yelling and shouting. They are so loud, she can't understand what they are saying. She feels like she is back in the Red Queen's court.
They believe something about her, nonsense, pure nonsense. Even with one of their own supporting her, she finds herself backpedalling. She stumbles over a bucket and catches herself on the corner of a log cabin. She sees it, something in the corner of her gaze. Alice turns her gaze to meet it. The Cheshire Cat appears to her sitting on a nearby splitting round, smiling his signature razor grin.
"The days grow shorter and the nights are getting longer… Feels like we're running out of time," muses the cat to her, his voice a mocking mix of taunting and boredom.
He makes his way over to her, gracefully leaping atop a stack of crates off to the side of the road next to Alice.
"Every day it seems so much harder to tell right from wrong. You've got to read between the lines my dear," muses the cat.
She steps toward Cheshire, keeping one eye on the villagers who continue to move towards her, slowly trying to box her in.
"Mr. Cat! Please help me! What should I do?" pleads Alice, terrified.
"Fight the good fight, of course. Every moment, never stop. It's your only way, really."
Expecting more nonsense, or limericks, the directness of the answer flabbergasts her. With an uncannily dexterous flick of the tail, the Cheshire Cat directs her gaze to an object resting in the nearby splitting-round box beside them. Inside the box is a hatchet. The head and handle are sticky with sap, but it is ground sharp to make fine kindling. She gingerly picks it up. It weighs nothing to her.
A crushing grip locks onto her left arm. Her fright transforms to anger as she swings the hatchet with every ounce of energy she has into the unknown figure gripping her arm from behind. The sharp edge of the hatchet buries itself deep into a bearded jawbone of the target, knocking the head off its neck. The body lets go, spasming as it lurches back.
The crowd erupts into frantic bellows of blood-thirsty outrage. The Cheshire Cat bolts into a clump of teenage pines. Alice follows, running as fast as she can. She feels like she has done nothing but run for years, maybe her whole life. Gradually she stops. The sounds of pursuit trickle off until she can hear only two voices still behind her. She breathes and strengthens her grip on the hatchet.
Grand, cosmic interplay finds a focal point within her. Layers of possibility converge as she decides there will be no more running. The anger from being accused by the villagers, and the Red Queen's threats on top of her friend abandoning her forge her will into a diamond. The light of reality catches in that diamond, refracting beams of varying choice that meld into a bright white focus.
Alice turns to face the last two pursuing villagers. When they duck under the last branch, locking eyes on their quarry, they freeze. Alice glares back at the two well-built brothers, who look like they spend their free time challenging the older men of the village to wrestling matches. Their faces go slack. One is holding a tree limb to use like a bat. The other has a length of rope. Alice stands with her shoulders slightly hunched, breathing deeply, her mouth open, lips pulled back into a silent growl. Her slim body is covered by just the sagging, dirty remnants of her dress. Her hair hangs over her face in sweaty tendrils. Bare toes clench and unclench on the floor of dead pine needles.
With the mob's bravado quickly losing effect on the brothers, they hesitate now, unsure about what to do. Without the power of the crowd, the men turn back. Even after their retreat, Alice doesn't move for quite some time. When she does, it isn't hurried. She picks a direction and walks.