Page 9 of Escaping Wonderland

The masked men took Alice up the stairs, which wound around the immensely tall, cylindrical space like the threads inside a nut. Hallways and doors lined those steps all along the way.

The building was big, but it hadn’t looked nearly this large from the outside…had it? Alice pursed her lips and struggled to recall what the place had looked like when she’d first seen it, but the noise from below—the din of conversation, laughter, and music—combined with the feel of her new clothing on her overly sensitive skin was far too distracting for her to think straight. All she could remember wasHatter’s Tea Party.

It had been so long since she’d been to a party!

She glanced down at her dress. It was a pale blue—the blue of the spring sky, the best blue of them all. Everything should’ve been that shade of blue. The wholeworldshould’ve been blue.

“He’s been waiting a long time,” said someone in a deep, gruff voice.

Alice lifted her gaze to find herself at the very top of the stairs. A man—built like a brick wall with a flat, stony face—stood just in front of Alice and her escorts, his huge frame almost large enough to completely block the door behind him from her view.

What a strange place for a wall. What a strangefacefor a wall.

A giggle escaped Alice; the sound startled her, making her jump. The chessboard-patterned escorts didn’t ease their hold on her.

Why am I acting like this? Why am Ifeelinglike this?

What was in that bottle? This…isn’t supposed to be real. Why is it…why…

“Blame Miraxis,” one of the escorts grumbled.

“Is…is this the party?” Alice asked.

“Take her in,” said brick man, stepping aside.

The men walked her forward.

She turned her face toward the escort on her right. “Am I going to a party? The…the tea party?”

“All the good dollies go to the tea party,” replied one of the guards.

“And you get to be a dolly until the king comes for you,” said the other.

They brought her through the door, down a short hallway, and into the large, dimly lit room at its end. Simultaneously, the escorts released her and retreated. The sound of the door closing behind them was ominously loud, and only served to enhance the silence that engulfed her in its wake. Alice stepped deeper into the room and glanced around.

The chamber looked like an old-fashioned parlor, but—like everything else in this world—the angles were alloff. Though the doors on each wall were perfectly lit, deep shadows lingered in the corners, apparently too strong for the light cast by the flickering electric candles scattered about the room. The carpet was a deep purple run through with golden, flourishing designs that created vaguely diamond-shaped patterns across the floor. Several upholstered chairs and a sofa, all in the style of furniture that might’ve been better suited to Victorian England thanwhatever the hell this place was, sat around a long, low table in the center of the room, atop which was arranged an assortment of delicate, colorful bottles, cakes, and pastries.

Everything on the table was marked with eitherDrink MeorEat Me, whether on little paper tags or written directly on the items themselves.

Alice moved to the table and reached for one of the pastries. Just before she picked it up, something inside her—something laced with that sense of dread still lingering in her belly—saidNo. She stilled.

The pleasant warmth in her intensified as if to fight back that mental voice of warning. She squeezed her eyes shut and focused hard. In her mind, she saw a little bottle, felt strong fingers clamped on her cheeks, smelled alcohol and fruit. She tasted cold but fiery liquid on her tongue.

Drink Me.

No.

Eat Me.

No!

Alice shook her head and stepped away from the table. This wasn’t real. This was all…fake. It was a simulation, it was virtual reality. It wasn’t supposed to affect her like this! All the sims she’d tried had muted the positive sensations and eliminated the bad.

But why does this feel so real? Why do I feel pain? Why do I feel…pleasure?

Why do I feel fear?

“Take one,” a man said.

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