Escaping Wonderland

by Tiffany Roberts

  Alice woke as though only a second had passed since she’d closed her eyes. Despite having spent the night on the forest floor, she’d suffered no restlessness or discomfort; her sleep had been deep and dreamless. If it weren’t for the golden morning sunlight streaming through the leaves, she wouldn’t have believed she’d slept at all.

  She was wide awake without a hint of grogginess.

  She sat up, and something slid off her chest to pool on her lap—Shadow’s jacket. She recalled him covering her up with it, and even vaguely remembered the warm, hard press of his body as he’d pulled her against him.

  Curling her fingers into the coat’s velvety material, she scanned her surroundings, searching for Shadow, but he was nowhere to be found. Alice frowned. Where was he? Had he gone with a purpose, or simply wandered off?

  He wouldn’t just leave her, would he?

  “Shadow?” she called.

  The only answer she received was a gentle rustling of leaves and the soft creaking of massive tree trunks in the breeze. Even while Shadow was walking beside her, head and shoulders above her, she’d never felt quite as small as she did in that moment, alone and surrounded by these massive, almost-familiar plants.

  Alice drew in a deep breath and shook her head. It was okay. None of this was real. She had nothing to worry about.

  If only she could believe that.

  She looked around again only to realize that everything was different. Not that any individual plant looked different, but they all seemed to be in different places—like the whole forest had picked itself up and shuffled around during the night. Even in the dark, she’d been able to make out the vegetation that had been around her; none of it was in the same position now as it had been before she went to sleep.

  Maybe I just got turned around while I slept?

  It wasn’t like she’d have known which direction they were heading to begin with—Shadow had said they were lost, and he seemed to wander without any set course. She’d likely have to do the same, at least until she found a path. Surely there had to be one somewhere.

  “Shadow?” she called again, louder this time.

  Again, there was no answer except for sweet bird songs and the faint echo of her own voice between the trees. She wrung the jacket in her hands.

  She was alone.

  Alice should’ve felt relieved—Shadow was completely mad, and it was foolish to believe she was safe with him around. Despite how he’d acted around her thus far—friendly and oddly gentle—he was still a dangerous, unpredictable male.

  So why was her gut heavy with building disappointment and fear? Why was she so anxious to hear his voice, to catch even a tiny glimpse of him among the trees?

  Whether you believe or not, I will keep you safe, Alice.

  She’d heard him say those words as she’d fallen asleep; she remembered them as if he’d spoken only moments ago.

  If he was going to keep her safe, where was he?

  A faint tingling sensation crept across her skin, sending a shudder along her spine, and the little hairs on her arms stood on end. Just like when she’d first woken in Wonderland, she felt like she was being watched…but she found herself oddly unalarmed by the sensation.

  Alice pushed herself onto her feet, swung the jacket to her back, and slipped her arms through the sleeves. She had to roll those sleeves up to free her hands, and the jacket’s hem fell past her knees, but once she drew it closed around herself, it warded off the morning chill.

  “Well…any direction is as good as the rest,” she said, brows creased as she turned in place. She stopped at random and began walking. The grass was laden with cool dew that dampened her single stocking. Sighing, Alice stopped to lift her left foot, tug off her remaining stocking, and tuck it into one of the pockets in Shadow’s jacket.

  She took in a deep breath and resumed walking. Hints of his scent wafted off his jacket, stoking a strange sense of longing in her. Though she didn’t have any idea how it was possible—as they’d only just met—she missed Shadow. She couldn’t deny it. She missed his presence, his voice, his glowing eyes, and his disturbing but oddly charming grin.

  With all her senses contradicting what she thought to be true, it was already a struggle to keep herself convinced that this world was a simulation, and Shadow made that struggle even more difficult—because even if this world wasn’t real, he was. He was somewhere in the asylum, hooked up to a mess of tubes, wires, and needles in one of those pods just like she was. Even if he didn’t realize it, he was as much a prisoner as Alice.

  Whether it had to do with a quirk of this virtual world or something within Alice herself, her body had reacted strongly every time Shadow touched her. If she continued traveling with him, how long would she be able to resist him? How long would it be before desire overwhelmed her good sense and she gave in?

  His words from the night before drifted to the forefront of her mind.

  Play the game a while. Enjoy yourself while you’re here.

  Was it wrong to seek out the good in a bad situation? She’d never indulged such urges in the real world—she had loved her father, and she’d always avoided anything that would’ve caused him scandal, that would’ve tainted their family name any more than her mother already had. But here…

  Whatever happened in this simulation would have no consequences, no impact on the world outside. No one would ever know. There’d be no repercussions if she—

  Alice shook her head sharply.

  I need to find a way out of here. Before I give in to temptation.

  And oh, she was sorely tempted when it came to Shadow, despite his alienness.

  Her trek through the forest was a lonely, quiet one. The giant leaves and flowers occasionally rustled as though something were moving through them, but Alice never saw any wildlife—even though the sense that she was being watched persisted.

  She passed countless trees; before long, they all looked the same. Her worry that she was walking in circles was assuaged only by the varying colors of the flowers—they were much easier to distinguish from one another than the trees, just different enough to tell her she wasn’t wandering in an endless loop.

  The forest presented conflicting airs of unease and serenity. The light filtering through the oversized leaves high overhead, paired with the smell of living, thriving plants and the high, carefree bird songs created a peaceful environment, but like everything else in this simulation, it was all off.

  She couldn’t help but wonder whether this place was designed to ease the mental illnesses of its patients or feed into them.

  After what felt like a long time—during which it also seemed like she’d only traveled a few hundred feet from her starting point—she realized that mist was forming between the trees. The golden sunlight had been replaced by uniform gray, and her unease intensified, tinged with an inexplicable sense of loss and sorrow.

  It’s not real, she reminded herself as she continued forward.

  Now, tufts of sagging moss hung from the trees, and the oversized flowers and undergrowth that had dominated the rest of the forest gave way to clinging vines. The trees were steadily thinner, many of them standing almost perfectly straight and branchless for their lowest twenty or thirty feet, their bark dulled and gray beneath the moss.

  Her visibility diminished as the mist thickened. Slow-moving wisps of fog connected larger, impenetrable pockets, giving Alice the sense that she was walking amidst the clouds—at least until her leading foot came down in knee-deep water and plunged into soft, hungry mud up to the ankle. The cold, squishy mud certainly felt real for being a simulation.

  She wrinkled her nose and was tugging her foot out of the mud when she glanced up and noticed something within the fog—the dark form of a person.

  “Shadow?” Alice’s voice sounded broken and weak. Fear coiled within her, colder than the mist caressing her skin and the water at her feet.

  The figure didn’t move.

  It’s probably an odd stump or tree, its
silhouette warped by the fog.

  Pressing her lips together, Alice continued forward, her gaze shifting constantly between the figure ahead and the water below. The mist recoiled from her as she moved, leaving a tiny barrier of clear air around her that was only barely enough to see the mucky water through which she waded; the bottom wasn’t visible through all the sediment she was kicking up. She moved slowly, using her toes to feel out a path that wouldn’t see her sink to her waist in mud or submerged up to her eyeballs.

  As Alice neared the figure, its shape solidified—it was a woman, a human woman, facing away and standing utterly motionless.

  Alice nearly breathed a sigh of relief when she finally reached solid ground. She splashed the muck off her legs as she stepped out of the water and walked toward the woman.

  The woman was wearing a pale green hospital gown with ties on its back, the material surprisingly clean despite the muddy swamp in which she stood.

  Alice’s memory flashed back to her arrival at the asylum; though the images were blurry, she remembered them dressing her in something very similar to this woman’s hospital gown.

  I was wearing the same thing when I woke up.

  She’d nearly forgotten about her hospital gown, and that triggered a wave of panic. What else had she forgotten since she’d come here? What else would she forget while she was trapped in this simulation?

  “Hello?” Alice said softly. “I…I’m lost. Could you maybe…point me in the right direction?”

  The woman remained silent and unmoving. Her hair—short and brown—was messy and unkempt, a surprising contrast to her pristine hospital gown.

  Alice swallowed and walked around the woman, keeping several feet of distance between them.

  “Miss?” she asked as she stepped in front of the stranger. Alice stopped when the woman’s face came into view. Alice’s brow furrowed; she wasn’t sure what she was looking at.

  The woman couldn’t be more than a few years older than Alice. She had a pretty face, but her expression was slack, and her eyes were closed. Her skin was pale enough that it was almost translucent—as though it hadn’t been touched by sunlight in years. Now that Alice was close, she could tell that the woman was, in fact, moving. The woman’s chest expanded and contracted with her breathing, which was so shallow that it was nearly imperceptible, and her eyes rapidly flicked back and forth behind her eyelids.

  She’s dreaming.

  Alice twisted around, suddenly aware of more figures looming nearby in the mist, all of them as still and as silent as this woman.

  The blood drained from Alice’s face. She continued walking, keeping as much distance between herself and the silent figures as she could without plunging back into the swampy water. Everything was so still, so quiet, so eerie; she felt like she was walking through a graveyard in the middle of the night. All the figures—humans and aliens alike—were dressed in similar gowns, and all of them appeared to be sleeping on their feet.

  She kept her eyes in constant motion as she traveled, unable to shake the feeling that she shouldn’t have been here, that she didn’t belong here, that this place wasn’t meant for the awake, for the aware.

  Her gaze caught on one of the figures up ahead, which was separated from her by a fallen tree and strings of moss; there was something familiar about the tall, lean frame. Drawing in a steadying breath, she moved toward the figure. The figure’s details materialized out of the mist—the male was standing with his back toward her, but she could clearly make out his black and gray tousled hair, his long, feline ears, the short, black fur on his neck and arms.

  Was that…Shadow?

  Alice approached the fallen log and settled her hand on it. The bark bit into her palm as she lifted her leg to climb over.

  The male was dressed in one of the hospital gowns like everyone else. A long, black-furred tail dangled from beneath it.

  “Shadow?”

  “This is no place for you to be wandering, Alice,” Shadow said—from directly behind her.

  Alice shrieked, lost her balance, and fell forward over the log. Its bark scraped her shins and knees.

  Shadow’s strong hand clasped around her right bicep, halting her fall, and he carefully tugged her back toward him. He drew her against his chest, spinning her away from the mysterious figure, and she flattened her hands on the soft, silky fabric of his vest.

  Heart racing, breath ragged, Alice tipped her head back and looked up at Shadow’s mirthful face. The Hatter’s hat was perched upon the top of his head, tilted down roguishly.

  “You scared me, Shadow!”

  His grin tilted up at one corner. “You seemed frightened well before I spoke.”

  She shoved at his chest, but he held her firmly in place. “You also left me.”

  “No, I didn’t.”

  “You did. I’ve been alone since I woke up.”

  “I’ve been with you the entire time, Alice.”

  “Are you saying…you’ve been following me?”

  “Well it would’ve been foolish to let you wander off on your own, wouldn’t it have?”

  Alice didn’t consider the potential consequences, didn’t pause to consider how he’d react or how strong he was, she simply succumbed to the flare of anger in her chest; she clenched her fist and punched him in the shoulder as hard as she could.

  Shadow grunted softly and swayed back a bit; she moved with him, thanks to his unrelenting hold on her.

  She glared up at him. “I called for you, and you just ignored me! You let me think you abandoned me.”

  “I hardly see how I’m responsible for what you do or do not think. What goes on in your head is no fault of mine.”

  Alice pressed her lips together as tears of fury and hurt welled in her eyes. She pushed against his chest again, struggling to break his hold. “Let me go.”

  His grin broadened. “Now you want to be alone?”

  Alarm fluttered in Alice’s stomach; this was the turn. He wouldn’t let go, and then he’d do something to her, something bad, he’d hurt her…

  But Shadow did release her, backing away and keeping his hand on her arm only until she’d regained her balance before breaking physical contact with her completely. He sank into a deep bow and swept the hat off his head. “My deepest apologies, dear Alice. Though I must say, your beauty takes on a unique cast when you are angry. I find it hopelessly alluring.”

  Alice stared at him, dumbstruck for a moment. As soon as she regained her wits, she yanked off his jacket and threw it in his face. “You are such an ass. You’re not in the least bit sorry.”

  His free hand caught the jacket before it fell. To her disappointment, he was still smiling when he lowered the garment. He straightened and tossed the hat in the air. It flipped end-over-end several times; Shadow swayed to the side, and it landed right-side up atop his head. “I just like to keep things interesting. No harm done, is there?”

  He pulled on the jacket as he stepped closer to her, but Alice spun away and folded her arms across her chest. Her gaze fell on the nearby male who bore such a striking resemblance to Shadow. If she crossed the fallen log, it would only take a few more steps to get around the man and see his face…

  Shadow’s arms wrapped around her from behind, and he leaned his chin on her shoulder, resting his cheek against her ear. He was warm, and solid, and his hold on her was so gentle, so secure, so sheltering, that she couldn’t help it when some of her anger dissipated and she eased against him.

  “Did you miss me, then?” he asked.

  Alice stiffened. “No.”

  He chuckled; the sound vibrated into her from his chest. His fingertips brushed along the backs of her arms, tickling the skin just above her elbows. “I think you did miss me, Alice. You can tell me. It’s all right.”

  It irritated her that she really had missed him, especially after the stunt he’d pulled, but she wasn’t going to give him any satisfaction by admitting that.

  “Why did you follow me? Why didn’t you ju
st come out when I called?” she asked.

  “I wanted to see what you would do. What fun is there in spoiling it right away?”

  “You find it fun to scare me?”

  “I find it fun to be near you. Even when you don’t know I’m there.” He turned his head toward her slightly, and his breath was feather-light on her cheek. “I’ve been with you since you came here, you know.”

  Alice turned her face toward him, her lips nearly brushing his. “What?”

  “I found you while you were asleep”—he gestured to the figure standing just on the other side of the log—“just like them. You looked so beautiful, so peaceful, and I wanted to know what you were like when you were awake. You were so confused when you first woke, yet there was such determination in your eyes… I had to see what you would do, but the Hatter’s little scurrier showed up before you could act.”

  He’d found her while she was asleep? Alice frowned, but now that he’d mentioned it… She recalled the light touch of velvety fingers on her face and a whispered voice from just before she’d woken fully.

  You’re going to be mine.

  That had been Shadow, even then? Though she’d first glimpsed him when she’d entered the Hatter’s place, that apparently hadn’t been his first look at her—and it must’ve been him she’d seen in the mirror while she was being dolled up. Her memories after the drink was forced down her throat were hazy, but she knew the shadow she’d seen in the mirror had been more than a trick of the light.

  He’d been there, too, in the Hatter’s parlor—and the guard posted at the only entrance she knew of had been unaware of Shadow’s presence until he led her out.

  She lowered her eyebrows. “How did you get into the Hatter’s room?”

  Shadow shrugged. “Like I said, I always end up where I want to be eventually.”

  Suddenly, his arms were no longer around her, his body no longer against her—he was sitting on the fallen tree in front of her, one leg up with his knee slightly bent, reclining on one elbow. Alice jumped back with a startled gasp.

  She stopped when her back bumped into something solid and familiar—Shadow’s chest. She spun to find him behind her again.