Hello, Last year was my first year as a scare actress and I absolutely LOVED it. I plan to do it again and my character will be the same. My room was a scary Alice in Wonderland. (Pic for reference) Anywho, I feel like I did really great with the costume but I was lacking a little with my lines. What would a scary Alice say before the bunny pops out to scare?

I know that's the first verision of "Alice in Wonderland", but is it different than the published book? And if so, what's the difference between both versions?

My husband surprised me with these stickers for Easter to use in my journal. Obsessed with the art work and this rendition of Alice.

“What’s your name?” I asked the girl. She looked like a survivor from a death camp. It was strange seeing such shell-shocked, dead eyes on such a young face. She couldn’t have been older than 6 or 7, with raven-black hair and ice-blue eyes.

“Maryanne,” she whispered, looking around furtively.

“I’m Alice,” I said, giving her a comforting smile. We continued walking quickly along down the hill. Giant mushrooms passed by on both sides. In the distance, the dim glow of the castle lights gave an eerie radiance to the clouds of mist that passed like thunderclouds in front of its many spiraling windows.

“Keep your voice down,” she said in a low, scared voice. “The Jabberwock can hear the slightest sounds. I’ve seen it. It puts its head down on the ground and just listens. I think it can even hear footsteps sometimes.” I looked at her, astonished.

“Are you from this place?” I asked. She shook her head, a wave of deep sadness passing over her face.

“I was taken from my home,” she said. “I used to live in California. But I was kidnapped by the Walrus. He’s crazy, you know that?” I nodded. “Well, he used to talk to himself a lot, and I would listen. He had another girl in the cage when I got there, but he ended up…” She paused, looking like she wanted to throw up. “He ended up boiling her alive and then eating her.”

“Jesus Christ,” I whispered, horrified. Her face had taken on a greenish cast at the memory.

“But the Walrus also talked about the gateway they use,” she said. “To kidnap children from our world. Apparently, the Queen’s followers pass through it all the time. It takes you wherever you want to go, as long as you think about it while crossing through.” I stopped, grabbing her shoulders and turning her to face me. My heart thundered in my chest.

“Are you saying there’s a way out of this Hell?” I asked. She nodded slowly.

“So the Walrus said, but he’s insane,” she repeated, glancing over to the castle looming over us like a guillotine. “But, according to him, it’s in the basement of the Chateau de Douleur.”

***

I immediately began walking toward the castle, but the little girl shook her head violently.

“I’m not going in there for anything,” Maryanne said, her face chalk-white. I took her hand.

“It’s the only way,” I said. “Unless you want to stay here forever, we need to go into the castle. Your family must be worried sick about you. We need to get you home.”

“The woman there is very sick,” Maryanne cried in a quavering voice as tears started to stream from her eyes. I continued to take her hand, pulling her forward to the castle. I wanted to leave this horrifying place as soon as possible.

We walked on quietly, the occasional cries of the Jabberwock ripping through the air. I wondered what had happened to my father, whether he was still stumbling around the dark woods all alone.

The castle loomed up through the fog, the flickering, yellowish glow through its many murderholes piercing the mists like daggers. In front of the castle, I saw two soldiers clad in medieval armor with crossbows held in their hands. They sat in two chairs next to the open gate of the castle. I tiptoed as close as I could, watching them, but they didn’t seem to move or speak. They didn’t even seem to breathe. I wondered if they were mannequins or statues of some kind.

Then I saw the thick blood dripping from their open helmets. Maryanne and I snuck closer to the door, making sure to keep ourselves out of view from anyone inside. I found the soldiers both dead, a bullet hole torn through the center of each of their faces like dripping tunnels of gore.

“What the hell?” I whispered as I heard my father’s voice ring out from inside the castle.

“Where the fuck is she? Where’s Alice, you goddamned bastards?” I heard him scream. I grabbed Maryanne’s hand and drew her forward. We peeked around the corner of the gate, but no one was in sight. It was just a front entrance hall with flickering torches and cobblestone floors, walls and ceilings. Hanging from the walls, I saw painting after painting of a woman with very dark, dead eyes and a broad smile that showed glittering metal teeth. She wore a poofy Rococo dress covered in countless red frills, bows and lace that would have been at home in the time of Marie Antoinette.

“The Red Queen,” Maryanne said, crossing herself as she uttered the name. “God, please don’t let us see the Red Queen.”

***

We followed the corridor straight into the heart of the castle. Grated metal doors covered the sides of both walls, most of them closed. From behind the doors, I heard soft weeping and moaning and an occasional scream of agony. I quickly hurried Maryanne past them.

“Do you know where you’re going?” I asked, but she shook her head.

“I’ve never been into the castle,” she answered. “I just know the entrance is down below.” We turned a corner and I found the grinning, insane face of my father standing there, his gun drawn.

“Hey, baby girl,” my father said, grinning. “Remember me?” He cocked the pistol and put it directly to the front of my forehead. Its cold, circular barrel felt like an eel’s mouth kissing my skin. He gave a cold, venomous look at Maryanne. He grabbed her roughly by the neck and pulled her along as he prodded me forward with the gun. “I want to do this in a private place, not in a hallway. I know you deserve your mother’s fate, you stupid bitch. You brought us all to Hell, didn’t you? I know this is Hell.” His voice deepened as he said this. I tried to protest, but he continued to scream in insane gibberish.

As we walked down the hallway, a giant set of slatted, metal doors loomed ahead of us. They suddenly flew open. The White Rabbit stood there, grinning at the three of us. His needle-like teeth gnashed together, his mouth chattering excitedly.

“Have you brought new sacrifices to the Queen?” the White Rabbit asked, excited, his bone-white eyes twinkling.

“Fuck you,” my father spat, “this is my daughter. I will discipline my own child like I did my wife.” The White Rabbit laughed, a gleeful, cheery sound. My father raised the pistol, his hand trembling as he pointed it at the Rabbit.

“Move aside,” my father ordered. “I have no issue with you, demon.” The White Rabbit nodded happily as he gave a squeak of pleasure. He disappeared in the shadows of the dark hall. My father continued prodding us forward through the doors.

As soon as he stepped foot in the hall, a gleam of metal swung through the air. I instinctively shrieked. Maryanne pulled loose from my father’s grasp as a gleaming, metal croquet mallet came hard on his head. His skull exploded, scattering black hairs stuck to bone fragments in every direction. The pistol went off, the bullet flying into the enormous stone ceiling high above us.

I looked up at my savior, seeing a tall woman dressed in a fluffy, blood-red dress. She wore a crown of sharp, silver spikes with tiny skulls impaled on the top of each.

“Have you come to join the circle?” the Red Queen asked, her metal teeth flashing as she gave a wide smile. Her eyes looked flat and dead, almost painted on like the eyes of a doll.

I glanced above her head to the left side of the enormous chamber. To my horror, I saw an iron maiden there, a metal coffin hanging suspended by a series of thick cables to the ceiling. A spiral staircase on wheels was pushed next to the iron maiden. Its lid was tightly shut. Drops of fresh blood continued to drip out of the bottom. They gave a slow, rhythmic pattering like Chinese water torture as they fell into the clawfoot tub below. It was filled to the brim with glistening, crimson liquid.

I scrambled to my feet, seeing Maryanne already running down the hall in the opposite direction. I followed after her, pushing my exhausted body forward and hoping for a miracle.

The Queen gave an insane cry. I heard metal clattering hard across the ground. Looking back, I saw her running after us, the blood-stained metal mallet held above her head. Her insane eyes twinkled with the thrill of the chase.

As we turned down random hallways, I found a servant’s staircase leading both up and down. Maryanne had almost run past it, but I screamed at her.

“Maryanne! Come back!” I said. She turned. I pointed to the stairs. “There’s a way down! Come on, Maryanne! We’re late!” She nodded, her pale, thin face looking beyond exhausted as we stumbled our way down the steps, the Red Queen still only a couple paces behind us.

At the bottom of the stairs, a cold, prison-like basement loomed in front of us. Children were chained to the walls, many of them crying and covered in blood. At the end of the basement, I saw a giant mirror, but its reflection was… strange. I didn’t get to look at it for more than a moment, however, before Maryanne collapsed at my side. She was breathing hard, her eyes rolling, her sunken face twitching.

“I can’t… run… anymore…” she whispered as the Red Queen gave a lunatic battle-cry. I tried to pull Maryanne up by her hand, but within seconds, the Red Queen had closed in on us. I backpedaled quickly as the mallet came down on Maryanne’s skull, squashing it like a bloody pancake. I felt sick and weak, but my adrenaline screamed at me to get out of there. I turned toward the end of the chamber.

A mirror flashed in front of me, nearly ten feet tall and surrounded by intertwining silver vines. I could see myself reflected in it, but the background was not the background of the castle. Instead, I saw a dark forest and a burning house.

I ran toward the mirror. Behind me, the Red Queen screamed in fury. I felt a whizzing of air behind my head as she swung her deadly croquet mallet.

As I hit the mirror, I felt a sensation like warm water covering my skin. Everything went translucent, wavering and fading in and out. I continued running and, after a few steps, the dark forest materialized around me with a popping sound.

I cried out as I tripped over something heavy laying in the brush in front of me. Groaning, I looked back and saw my father’s body laying there, his head smashed into a disgusting soup of curly black hairs and brains.

Police sirens shrieked on the nearby road. Their blue and red strobing lights filled the forest with a sudden illumination. Their brakes squealed as they pulled up in front of the burning house. A few ran out, yelling orders and screaming for fire trucks and ambulances.

Light-headed and gasping, I pushed myself up and ran toward the flashing lights and away from that portal to Hell.

***

As the police drove me out of there, I heard a Johnny Cash song playing from the radio up front.

“Now I remember after work, mama would call in all of us.

You could hear us singing for a country mile.

Now little brother has gone on,

But I’ll rejoin him in a song.

We’ll be together again up yonder in a little while.

“One of these days, and it won’t be long,

I’ll rejoin them in a song.

I’m gonna join the family circle at the throne.

Oh no, the circle won’t be broken…”

In the crimson radiance of the sunrise that streaked across the clouds like streams of blood, I thought I could see the faces of my mother and father- not them as dead or insane, as they had been on the last, horrible day, but back when they were happy and whole.

I broke down then, crying uncontrollably, the weight of the tears that overflowed from my eyes feeling as heavy as the entire world.

Every night as I lay in bed, I heard the screaming, the shattering of plates and glasses as my mother and father fought and threw everything at each other within reach. They were drunk again, as usual. I just hoped the police wouldn’t come again tonight. I wished they could be happy.

Finally, around midnight, the voices started to fade. I felt my eyes closing as sleep came over me. But, just before I nodded off, I glimpsed a pair of eyes with black, slitted pupils peeking at me from the corner of the room. Beneath them hung a wide, grinning mouth. The mouth had dozens of triangular, razor-sharp teeth that glistened bone-white in the dim glow of the nightlight. Unattached to any visible flesh, the eyes and mouth floated in the air like wavering moonbeams. I sat up in bed, stuttering.

“What… what is this?” I whispered, staring deeply into glowing eyes. “Am I dreaming?”

“No, not dreaming, Alice. Just mad,” the thing hissed, its sharp fangs pulling apart. It gave a high-pitched, insane cackle at this. “We’re all mad here. But your father is the maddest of all, I’m sorry to say. Or, perhaps he’s just a little odd. It is hard to be sane every single day, after all…”

“Who are you?” I quietly asked as a shard of terror pierced my heart. A childish voice in the back of my mind screamed at me to simply pull the covers over my head and hide.

“The Cheshire Cat, of course. I’ll be your guide when you need me. Your adventure will be starting any second now, Alice…” His eyes glimmered brighter as a scream rang out from downstairs. I heard my father yelling, and then a gunshot rang out, shattering the night. Something heavy fell, thudding against the floor. “Ah, there it is. The journey of a thousand miles begins with the first step, after all.”

“What’s happening?” I asked in horror. The Cheshire’s Cat’s glowing face faded like the embers of a dying fire, but his voice continued to speak in the darkness. Heavy footsteps started to ascend the stairs. Something cold and empty slithered through my heart as a feeling of dread overcame me.

“He’s coming,” the Cheshire Cat said in a gleeful tone, the voice coming from all around me. “If you want to live, jump out the window. You have ten seconds to decide.”

“Alice!” I heard my father yell drunkenly, slurring his words. “Come here, right now. I need to talk to you.” I jumped out of bed, slammed my feet into my shoes and flung open the window.

“Five seconds,” the Cheshire Cat said cheerily. I looked down from the second story. My heart dropped as I saw the fall. “Better jump, Alice. You don’t want your adventure to end before it even begins.” I heard a hand roughly grab the doorknob. I crawled out the window, slowly letting myself down by my arms.

My father flung the door open. The front of his white shirt gleamed with slick, wet blood. He had a black revolver in one hand. With wild, excited eyes, he scanned the room, stumbling forward. His head ratcheted toward the open window. For a moment, our gazes met.

“You bitch!” he screamed in rage, raising the gun. “You’re just like your mother, always trying to leave. I’ll show you, you stupid cunt…” As I let myself drop, a gunshot exploded through the night. The window above me exploded in a shower of broken glass. I screamed as the chill night air whipped around me. The garden below rose up to meet me. I felt like I was standing on the tracks as a train barreled down on me.

I hit the dirt hard, rolling as I landed. A bush with sharp branches clawed my shoulder and back, gouging out burning slices across my skin. I glanced up, seeing my father drunkenly leaning out the window, his eyes unfocused. A totally insane, ferocious expression twisted his face into something inhuman and demonic. I barely recognized him.

“Fucking bitch! Stupid cunt!” he screamed, firing the pistol twice more. One of the bullets smashed the lawn only a foot in front of me, spraying grass and soil everywhere. I shrieked, sprinting across the yard in my shoes and pajamas. The dewey grass soaked my feet within seconds. But I knew I had more pressing problems than shoes.

I glanced back at the house, seeing the window empty. A thick forest loomed at the edge of the property. A blanket of shadows covered it, and I could barely see a thing. But I knew I had no choice. I sprinted into the woods, blindly tumbling through prickers and grasping boughs.

A torrent of flickering orange light suddenly illuminated the night. As I descended deeper into the woods, trying to hide myself, I looked back at the house one last time.

I saw a raging inferno there. Long tongues of flame hissed and spit as they licked the dry wood, flowing over the walls like water.

And in front of the hellish flames, I saw my father, a dark silhouette with a gun, striding purposefully across the yard toward me.

***

As my eyes adjusted to the dark forest, I caught a flash of something white sprinting through the bushes. I nearly screamed, startled into a state of terror. The creature turned its pale, dead eyes toward me.

He towered over me, about six feet tall. He had floppy rabbit ears surgically attached to his mutilated skull. Black stitches ran over his face in jagged patches, keeping his rotting flesh together. His white fur had a rainbow of fluids soaked into it, from blood to orange and yellow pus to other things I could never hope to identify. New trickles of blood and pus continued to leak out from the stitches crisscrossing his body. In his arms, grasped between claws like those of a tiger, I saw an unconscious child. The child had a deep gash on its forehead. His head lolled from side to side like a ragdoll’s.

“I’m late…” the rabbit hissed at me, his cataract eyes glimmering with insanity as they shone white in the pale moonlight. “For, you see, I have a very important date. The Red Queen is expecting the blood of a child for her shower, as she does every full moon. What keeps the skin fresher and younger than the blood of a little one, after all?” His lips cracked apart in a wide grin, showing blackened gums mottled with sores. His pointed, needle-like teeth reminded me of some nightmarish deep-sea fish. I stood there, speechless, until the sound of cracking twigs and whipping branches not far behind me startled me back into action.

I started running, giving the insane rabbit creature a wide berth. I glanced back, seeing my father’s pale, sweaty face through the brush. His lunatic eyes flicked from side to side. He kept the gun held out in front of him, his arm swaying gently as if he were caught in some hypnotic state.

“Alice! Come here, right now! How dare you…” I only glanced at my father for a second before turning my gaze forwards again, but, by then, it was too late. In the panic of the moment and the darkness of the forest, I didn’t see the six foot wide hole that stretched across the earth like a gaping maw.

I gave a startled shriek as my foot dropped into empty air. Before I knew what was happening, I was slipping, my arms pinwheeling. I tried to regain my balance, twisting my body around. I saw the rabbit there only a few paces away, grinning at me, the unconscious, kidnapped child slung across his shoulder like a bag of potatoes.

I fell backwards. The scream that tried to rip its way out of my throat seemed to get stuck there, and I could do nothing but stare blindly up as the rabbit lunged in after me with a cry of excitement. The last glimpse I caught of the forest showed my insane father stumbling toward us, still crying my name with drunken fury. The air whipped around me, the roar of it like the whine of a tornado shrieking in my ears.

The hole at the top shrank into a pinpoint as the rabbit and I fell downwards together into total darkness. We seemed to spiral around each other. No matter how I tried to pull away, the rabbit always seemed to be right there. The last glimpse I saw before the shadows closed in was the rabbit’s dead eyes flashing excitedly as he glared at me with a face like a corpse.

Then the shadows drew around me like a curtain shutting on a stage. Only my own screams and the ragged breathing of the rabbit surrounded me for what felt like an eternity. Slowly, my consciousness slipped away.

After that, I remember nothing for what felt like a very long time.

***

I awoke suddenly, inhaling deeply. I shivered, my teeth chattering as I looked around in confusion. I beheld an alien landscape stretching out to the horizon. Gently sloping hills of black earth loomed in every direction. There were no grass or plants visible, but giant red-and-white mushrooms the size of pine trees grew in clusters along the peaks of the rolling hills.

Streams of fire crisscrossed the landscape like rivers from Hell. The sun here drifted along the slit wrists of the horizon. It looked like a cold, purple ball of fire that gave off a soft, moon-like radiance but very little heat. Thin, silvery clouds covered the sky in rising plumes of pale mist. The entire world looked dark, all the colors eerie and saturated, almost like the desert at the end of a sunset.

I looked around for any sign of the surgically-altered rabbit creature or the unconscious boy he had been carrying in his arms or even, God forbid, my father. But I saw no signs of any of them.

On top of a nearby mushroom that loomed twenty feet in the air, however, I saw a familiar glint of glowing eyes, their slitted, dilated pupils looking down with insanity. The dragonfish-like teeth of the creature’s mouth shimmered in his eerie, ear-to-ear grin. Over the course of a few seconds, the rest of his body became visible as well, fading into view for the first time. I nearly gagged as I looked up in amazement. It was a disgusting thing to look at.

The Cheshire Cat was entirely hairless, his skin black and reptilian. Patches of his flesh were rotting away, and his tail had started to look like a stripped wire. White bones and infected veins writhing with maggots gleamed through the suppurating sores.

“Cheshire Cat,” I whispered, licking my dry lips, “what happened? Last I knew, I was falling… there was some… hole in the forest, and it seemed to keep going on and on forever. There was a rabbit, too, but not a normal rabbit. It was like a rabbit from a serial killer’s nightmare.” The Cheshire Cat laughed at this, but it wasn’t a pleasant laugh. It reminded me of the laugh of a man who just had his throat slit. It was gurgling and deep, and carried through the cold, dry air like a scream.

“The nightmares swarm across this world like a plague of locusts. The Red Queen’s evil and sickness has infected the very foundation of existence. The barriers between Wonderland and Hell itself seem to grow thinner by the day,” he said, but the glee never evaporated from his expression. Across the horizon, a thin, high-pitched scream rang out, full of pain and mortal terror. The Cheshire Cat’s head swung slowly toward the sound. I followed his gaze.

In the distance, I saw a narrow castle with razor-sharp turrets that disappeared into the silver clouds high above. Thin murderholes spiraled up the outside of the dark granite surface. A giant flag rippled softly in the cold breeze. I squinted, seeing a black flag with a red heart gripped in a skeletal hand. Drops of blood dripped out of the bottom.

“They call it the Chateau de Douleur,” the Cheshire Cat said by reason of explanation, “the home of the Red Queen. It sounds like another victim has fallen into her clutches.”

“What… another victim?” I stuttered, a sense of horror filling my body with a sick, weak feeling. The Cheshire Cat gave a slow, jerky nod. His eerie, gurgling laugh rang out suddenly, making me nearly jump out of my skin.

“The Red Queen seems to think that bathing in the blood of children will keep her young forever. She has an iron maiden set up above the royal shower. Every month on the full moon, her insane, sycophantic followers bring her sacrifices. Young children, boys and girls no older than five or six, usually. The younger they are, the more purifying their blood’s properties, you see.” The Cheshire Cat’s teeth gleamed as another, far weaker, scream rang out through the night. It was cut off suddenly. The eerie silence that rang out in the aftermath felt deafening.

“Ah, there it is. La petite mort- the little death,” he said gleefully, another laugh ripping its way out of his throat.

“I don’t see how that’s funny,” I said. “You think the Red Queen murdering children is funny?” As if offended by my change of tone, the Cheshire Cat’s rotted, black body started fading out, but his grin didn’t falter.

“I think that if you don’t start running soon, you will experience it firsthand,” the Cheshire Cat hissed, his voice echoing from all around me as the last gleam of his eyes faded away. “Beware. The White Rabbit draws near.”

***

I stumbled through the dark, cold world they called Wonderland. The black earth under my feet felt soft and smooth. The smell of the giant red-and-white fungi that covered the landscape like redwoods permeated the area, giving off a smell like mushrooms after a heavy rain. I went in the opposite direction of the Chateau de Douleur.

The pale, purple sun had started to disappear over the horizon. The night’s edge slid across the sky like a razor blade, plunging the world into darkness. Within a few minutes, I could barely see more than twenty feet in front of me. The silvery mist I had first seen in the sky now started spreading its ghostly fingers over the ground, covering the world in a blanket of pale fog.

I heard the White Rabbit before I saw him. In a harsh, dissonant voice, he sang. His voice carried all around me, raising goosebumps all over my skin.

“When the Queen’s eyes looked down from the sky,

They gleamed like the slit wrists of the sun.

Her pale face watches, her dead eyes dry.

Their small faces shriek what she’s done.

“I could not stop the children screaming.

And I could not stop the acid eating the dead.

I could not stop the dead men from dreaming.

I could not stop the voices in my head.

“Fragments of moonlight shine on a kitchen knife,

Crimson and ruby-red and gleaming,

But the rabbit knows no peace in life

When the children’s voices never stop screaming.”

As I ducked behind the giant trunk of a mushroom, I caught a glimpse of white fur with a spiderweb of black, garish stitches running across his back. Slung across the White Rabbit’s shoulder, the unconscious body of the child lay, the head lolling from side to side. The White Rabbit was heading in the direction of the castle. He continued bellowing out his disturbing, strange verses as his voice disappeared off in the distance. Exhaling deeply, I slunk out from behind the massive white fungal trunk. I stopped suddenly, a shard of dread piercing my heart as I saw what stood there before me.

A large man in a ripped-up walrus mask loomed over me, a blood-stained meat cleaver clutched tightly in one hand. The brown mask only covered the top half of his face. It had two giant white tusks jutting down past his chin. He had on a tight, soiled T-shirt that might have once been white but was now covered in a disgusting rainbow of stains. His fat belly protruded over his belt. The rolls of fat jiggled on his neck as he gave a strange, high-pitched laugh.

“They call me the Walrus,” he hissed through a mouthful of broken, rotting teeth, grinning at me. As he exhaled, I smelled rotten meat and the sickly sweet reek of infection. I backpedaled quickly in horror and revulsion. “I ate all the little ones, I did… my sweet little clams, the children of the damned…” He laughed at this, advancing on me. His dark eyes shone with insanity and hunger behind the eerie mask. With a greasy, muscular arm, he grabbed me by the neck.

I was put into a headlock and forced to stumble along behind him, my breaths coming in choking gasps. He pulled me into the mist. For a couple minutes, we went on like this. I continued struggling, trying to beat the giant man away with my hands, but he was too strong. When his grip loosened slightly, a powerful, echoing scream escaped my lips.

“Help me! Someone! Cheshire Cat…” I began, but he tightened his greasy, bulging arm around my neck, cutting off my wind. The world started turning white. A rising sense of animal panic swept through my body until the Walrus finally, mercifully, relaxed. I drew in a deep breath that tasted as sweet as honey, gasping and sweating.

“Don’t do that, my little clam,” the Walrus whispered with venom. His cracked lips had split into a furious grimace. His eyes shone with hatred. “You are courting death. Don’t you know sound draws on the Jabberwock?” He looked around nervously at the name.

As if in response, a high-pitched, animalistic roar ripped its way across the night. It reminded me of the screaming of a woman being burned alive. The echoes faded slowly, but with the mist so thick around us and the sky looking like a flat piece of slate, I couldn’t see more than ten feet in any direction.

Ahead of us loomed a shoddy, one-room cabin. The Walrus murmured to himself, gnashing his destroyed teeth as he looked down on me hungrily.

“You’re a beautiful little clam,” he hissed. “I think you’ll make a nice meal for Mr. Walrus. Indeed, a very tender little clam.” With one greasy, dirt-stained hand, he flung the cabin door open and threw me inside. The smell of cooking meat, rotting flesh and feces smacked me in the face, so thick I could taste it in the back of my throat. I bent over, retching. The Walrus closed the door as quietly as he could, peering through a tiny, smashed window in the mold-ridden boards of the dilapidated cabin.

A little girl crouched in the corner, starved and shivering. On a rough, wooden kitchen counter, I saw small, dismembered fingers and eyeballs. Spools of intestines were rolled up like sausages next to them.

A raging fire in the fireplace flickered and danced, illuminating every corner of this cabin of horrors. Over the fire, a child’s torso roasted, the fats spitting and dripping in greasy, burning drops. It was just the torso, with a ragged patch of bloody neck. It ended at the navel, with pieces of torn organs hanging out and blackening.

“Into the cage, my little sweetie, my little honey,” the Walrus whispered, pushing me forward. I heard the strange animalistic cry again, this time much closer.

“Fuck you!” I screamed, pushing the Walrus away. I tried to run for the door, but in a giant, single bound, he tackled me to the floor. I began shrieking for my life, trying to claw at the Walrus’ eyes. He punched me hard in the face. I saw white spots, bright stars that flashed across my vision. As my head lolled and I tasted coppery blood dripping from my mouth and nose, the high-pitched scream came again from directly outside the door.

“Help!” I cried. The Walrus froze, looking up. His dead eyes flashed with horror and a deep, ineffable fear. That was when the entire front of the cabin exploded. Shards of splintered wood pierced my skin like tiny hornet stings. The Walrus jumped off me, backpedaling quickly toward the back of the cabin. I raised my head and met the eyes of the Jabberwock. Like a dragon from an acid fiend’s nightmare, it raised its powerful body to its full height, looming twenty feet above the ground.

The Jabberwock’s skin gleamed a slate-gray color. Hundreds of pencil-thin appendages hung down from its enormous, fish-like face. The slow, rhythmic tapping of the fetid slime that dripped from its body mixed with its powerful breathing.

Its flat, hungry eyes bulged out, dark and lidless, reflecting the bloody light of the fire. Its enormous lungs inhaled and exhaled as it stared at us, creating the same whipping of wind and fury that a barreling train might produce.

The Jabberwock’s neck slithered out, writhing and serpentine, like some ancient Brachiosaurus’ neck. Its head hung low below its shoulders as it moved forward in a jerky, crawling gait, its webbed, dragon-like feet sliding across the soft black soil of Wonderland like a berserk centipede. It opened its mouth, showing hundreds of spiraling teeth that pulsated and twisted like the mouth of some demonic lamprey. The Jabberwock tried to force its entire body through the crushed wall, crouching down and giving another high-pitched scream. Its black eyes rolled back in its head, showing bloody veins at the bottom.

The Walrus tried to sprint for a back window, but the Jabberwock’s neck slithered out. Like a toad grabbing a fly out of the air, its lamprey mouth struck out in a blur. It attached to the Walrus’ back with a sucking sound. Blood exploded from the back of the Walrus’ body, splashing the coarse floor and broken walls of the cabin. I started crawling away. The panicked, agonized shrieks of the Walrus carried through the air, accompanied by wet crunching and sucking sounds.

As the Jabberwock shook its head like a dog with a chew toy, spatters of blood from the Walrus’ mutilated body the inside of the cabin. The frail, trembling girl in the cage in the corner cowered back from the destruction. The Jabberwock’s tail whipped from side to side, long and tapering like the tail of a dinosaur. Sharp, bony spikes protruded from the ends.

With a tremendous crash that shook the ground, its tail smashed into the cage. The girl gave a squeak like a strangled rabbit as the cage soared across the cabin and crashed into a wall. She tumbled head over heels inside it. Then the cage’s door fell open with a clatter of metal. The girl crawled out, her stunned eyes sweeping over me.

I silently motioned for her to follow me. As silently as I could, I crawled through a massive hole in the collapsed front wall. I glanced back and saw her close behind, her skeletal arms pumping quickly. A glimmer of hope flashed across her sunken, haunted eyes, a look I remember even now when I lay in my bed a few days later.

As we got out to the black soil of Wonderland and the thick mists of its endless night, the cabin fell into a heap behind us. The Jabberwock continued to thrash in the rubble. The sounds of bones cracking and sucking followed us down the rolling hills.

Alice's Wonderland Bakery or Adventures in Wonderland?

Fanart and parody

Pixel art done on Procreate ❤️

So a few years ago there was a song (or maybe an album but i'm pretty sure it was a song) on Spotify that was around an hour long and it was just the Alice's Adventures in Wonderland book... but a song. They took it off of Spotify and i've never been able to locate it, wondering if anyone else knew about it or if they could find it!

I also posted this on r/findthatsong

As a child I just thought of Wonderland as a magical place but now I feel like it’s much more than that. Wonderland is a world that’s free of societal pressures, free of expectations and gender roles- a place where you can be you without judgement. What Wonderland has taught me is that everyone has their own sense of madness, it just takes some time to make amends with the madness to finally feel at peace with yourself

Because think of it: What if we’re all just Alice trying to live in a world that doesn’t make sense?

https://www.reddit.com/r/Conservative/s/yzpGbC5x00

What would the plot be like?

The end has come!

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Hello all,

I recently remembered how when I was a teenager, I was obsessed with Alice in Wonderland. I remember getting into it around the time the Disney live-action was released and getting really into Syfy's Alice. I was also part of the When Curiosity Met Insanity fandom.

But I want more & there is SO MUCH to watch/read when it comes to Alice in Wonderland.

I want to become a superfan lol. The Tangled subreddit has a sticky post that's like: here's the order you should watch the Tangled movies/TV shows/shorts.

I know that there's obviously not one continued universe and there's been multiple adaptations of Alice in Wonderland but I'm wondering if you all have any advice as to what I should watch/read first or if in any order?

I have seen the Disney cartoon, both Disney live-actions, and the Syfy series!

Thank you all 💙

I only have two options:

1. Anthony Browne
2. Frank Adams

Are there more?

I went to see our local theater's Alice ballet, and there was a woman in full white with a crown. I have no idea who the hell this was or what her purpose was. My boyfriend said one adaptation had a White Queen as the Red Queen's sister. Which adaptation is this? What's she do?

https://curiousinsane.livejournal.com/

It was originally posted on Live Journal and also on Tumblr.

Any old readers here of it? I was so obsessed with this webcomic back in the day. I miss it!! I used to ship Alice & Reginald so hard lol.

Alice in Wonderland in the asylum

All Alice in Wonderland fans deserve to know that their hero inspired the naming of a mental illness. Alice in Wonderland syndrome (AIWS) is a rare perceptual disorder characterized by distortions in visual perception and the sense of body image. The name of the syndrome comes from Lewis Carroll's "Alice's Adventures in Wonderland," in which the protagonist experiences size distortions and other unusual phenomena. Symptoms of Alice in Wonderland syndrome may include:

1. Micropsia and Macropsia: Patients may perceive objects as being smaller than they actually are (micropsia) or larger than they appear in reality (macropsia). This distortion in visual perception can create a sense of disorientation and confusion.
2. Metamorphopsia: Individuals with AIWS may experience distortions in the shapes and sizes of objects, leading to a fragmented or altered perception of the environment. This can manifest as objects appearing elongated, compressed, or morphing into different forms.
3. Hallucinations: Some individuals may experience visual hallucinations, seeing objects that are not present or perceiving patterns, colors, or textures that are not there. These hallucinations can be vivid and may contribute to feelings of unreality or detachment from one's surroundings.
4. Impaired sense of time and space: Patients with AIWS may have difficulty gauging the passage of time or accurately perceiving distances between objects. This distortion in the perception of space and time can contribute to feelings of disorientation and cognitive impairment.
5. Distorted sense of body image: Some individuals with AIWS may experience distortions in their perception of their own body size and shape. This can result in feelings of detachment from one's physical self or a sense of bodily disproportion.
6. Migraine-related: Individuals with AIWS may experience distortions in the shapes and sizes of objects, leading to a fragmented or altered perception of the environment. This can manifest as objects appearing elongated, compressed, or morphing into different forms as well as other types of perceptual distortions.

It is important to note that symptoms of Alice in Wonderland syndrome can vary in intensity and duration among individuals. While the exact cause of AIWS is not fully understood, it is believed to be associated with various factors including migraines, neurological conditions, and alterations in brain function. Individuals experiencing symptoms of AIWS are encouraged to seek medical evaluation and diagnosis by a healthcare professional, as proper assessment and management can help alleviate distressing perceptual disturbances and associated symptoms. Treatment may involve addressing underlying medical conditions, managing migraines, and implementing strategies to cope with perceptual distortions and related challenges.

Do you know anyone with this syndrome?

P.S.

The image from the above is AI generated.

https://reddit.com/link/1bkcgq7/video/2o6kxtae4qpc1/player

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Part 08 is here!

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Except for the original illustrations in the book, I have yet to find an adaptation in which the dormouse actually looks like a hazel dormouse the only dormouse species native to the UK. Instead it always looks like a generic cartoony house mouse. Is there a reason for this?

Alice is going to return back to the Hall of Doors...

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