Nightmares in Wonderland Chapter 1: The Dark Glass, an American McGee's Alice + Charlie and the Chocolate Factory Crossover fanfic

A Dark Wonderland

Chapter 1: The Dark Looking-Glass

Two worlds. Two mirrors.

We have heard about it in stories and we have seen them in films. What are mirrors? Are they really objects in which one can admire oneself in? Or do they have a deep hidden meaning. What if they are teleporters? What if there is another world beyond ours and strange beings are looking down upon our lives?

If mirrors are like this, then one must wonder what the beings on the other side are like. Are they looking distainfully upon our pitiful existence? Or to them, is our world much better than their own?

This story does have such a magical mirror. But sometimes, magic isn't all good. Sometimes, when magical objects get placed into the wrong hands, it can lead to horrible results. Or else, not so horrible...

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Our story begins not far from here. In a curious shop in a little town. Now, this was no ordinary town. It was home to a very famous chocolate factory. But if you had lived in this very area, you would know that the factory was not very exciting. Nobody went in and nobody came out. The gates had not opened since The Golden Ticket Contest. But that was over. Far from over. Actually, I recall that it was about five years ago that I stood with the crowds on Febuary 1st, 2005.

The boy who had won...well he is much sweeter than his mentor.But maybe that is rude to say, for I have never met Willy Wonka myself. Little Charlie Bucket was his name. I remember he was very poor. He lived in an old hut which, and let me be very honest now, looked as though it had been sat on.

Charlie was, and remains even now to be very frail. You would think that being in a chocolate factory would fatten you up but no. Countering that however, was his huge warm smile and slightly fringed brown hair.

I remember when the boy came in. Very curious little one, you could tell. The way he handled every item in the store. It was as if he thought everything was fine china.

So he searched around for a while before coming across a silver hand mirror. The glass was covered in dust and cracked down the centre. The silver was worn down with age. But something about the mirror must have been fantastic. The way his brown eyes sparkled like a pair of diamonds told me that.

"How much is this?" he asked.

I must admit, I was worried. I knew about the origins of that mirror. Of what it does. Yet, something compelled me open my mouth.

"You can have it free. I have no further use for it."

"I insist to pay!" Charlie protested.

This argument carried on for a couple minutes. Maybe you would let him pay. But I didn't want him to. The mirror was cursed, and so would the money in my palm had he payed.

"Alright!" he said finally, staring down at the mirror.

It just might have been the worse decision I had ever made.

No person wanted to be in The Rutledge Asylum. Sure, the doctors were alot better, and treatment worked faster, but there was one girl that disturbed everyone.

She had been there since she was eight years old, this was before she was in a hospital for a coma, and after her parents death in a house fire. The girl, Alice was her name, seemed obsessed with fantasy. Alice would often mutter in her sleep about a place called Wonderland.

"The ravings of a lunatic!" one of the doctors had said.

Alice was once a beautiful girl filled with happiness. That had all changed one fateful night. Apparently, her cat knocked over a candle in her room and set it on fire. Alice had woken up and ran downstairs, only to discover her parents were not there. Her whole life had been spent blaming herself for their deaths. Had it not been for that cat, she would still have some life left in herself.

Alice had come to the asylum looking very dishevelled. Her long brown hair was tangled and filled with leaves, as if she had been in the bush. Skinny pale arms bore long gashes. At first, doctors thought it might of been from thorns that she might of brushed against while in the foliage. But they were far to deep. A long dark blue dress with a white apron was all she wore. Curiously, the apron was as blood stained as her arms.

Alice's sullen brown eyes cast around at the line of nurses waiting to greet her. She didn't respond to their pleasant welcomes, she just kept her eyes trained on the wooden door at the end of the hallway.

That was to be her room. The room that everyone now thought was cursed. When a nurse came to check on Alice one day, she was met with a frightful sight. Nailed to the door was a white rabbit, freshly killed, it's blood running down the door to the floor. Written on the door frame in blood was a message.

I am Alice. Hate me.

The nurse never came back to the asylum again.

First off, I would like to clear up that the Alice I am using is the Alice from American McGee's video game and soon to be movie. So she is the demented, suicidal girl. I thought I would try working with a darker character this time around. To see how I do.