AN: An experiment!

Disclaimer: I don't own American McGee's Alice or Alice: Madness Returns.

"...They drew all manner of things- everything that begins with an M-"

"Why with an M?" asked Alice.

It was only a dream; yet Alice loved her Wonderland. She had relived her time there so much that the girl had lost track. It was beautiful, from the room of doors to the pool of tears, the Caterpillar's garden to the Queen's castle. Wonderland was stunning and Wonderland was hers. She would cherish it, love it, hold it within her heart. It was the very fibre of her being, and she would never let go.

"Why not?" Said the March Hare.

Alice was silent.

The Dormouse had closed its eyes by this time, and was going off in a doze; but, on being pinched by the Hatter, it woke up again with a little shriek, and went on: "- that begins with an M, such as mouse-traps, and the moon, and memory, and muchness"

"And melancholy and malice and murder… and madness."

Alice turned around in her seat to see a girl- no, a woman- approaching. She was hardly tall, but beautiful with her pale skin in stark contrast to locks of ebony hair. And those eyes- green as the eastern jade Radcliffe seemed to obsess over, yet much deeper. Her build was slender, her eyes keen and her jaw determined.

But her queer prettiness wasn't what shocked Alice, nor her harsh words. Even the fact that her apron was splattered with fresh-looking blood and that she held an ornate knife within her dainty fingers paled in comparison to the fact that she looked so much like…

"Lizzie?" Alice asked. "What- what are you doing here?"

The woman eyed the child with something resembling irritation. "Lizzie is- will be – dead if you don't quieten down and listen."

Alice's eyes widened. "What do you-"

"Turn around."

The girl did so, and what she saw made her leap out of her seat in fright. Her friends, her tea companions, transformed. The Hatter became twisted and loathsome, the Hare and Dormouse mechanised. Birds of flame flew across the sky, burning the cerulean canvas and staining it crimson, bloody crimson. Smoke blurred the horizon. At her young age, Alice was powerless to stop what was happening to her childhood fantasy that was crumbling around her, becoming a burnt and hellish realm. She thought that she had tears beginning to form, but could not let them fall- the poor child was paralysed, unable to do so much as blink. This was wrong, terribly wrong… what had happened to her daydream?

She did nothing when sounds of clockwork and mechanism began to be emitted by the teapot- and she was unable to do so much as move when spidery legs reached out and a scarlet eye opened.

'Lizzie' was faster though, leaping onto the table and stabbing it relentlessly. Here, Alice worked up the ability to cover her eyes, hoping to preserve what little innocence she had left. She found that, despite her best efforts, tears were falling in silvery tracks down her cheeks. The girl was scared, so scared.

"Stop crying." Lizzie instructed, grabbing Alice's wrist and pulling her up onto the table. The Hatter, Hare and Dormouse seemed to be going into overdrive, twitching, gibbering and spurting nonsensical lines. Alice half wondered what had become of the others- Caterpillar? The Duchess? Were they too insane, the very embodiment of her nightmares? The woman pulled Alice close. "Crying doesn't get you anywhere in your imaginary world- not even in the real world. The strong prey off the weak and you, Alice, are weak."

Alice wrenched herself away from the women, almost losing her balance. "Stop it, Lizzie! What did you do? Give me back Wonderland!"

That seemed to push a button that was not to be touched. The teenage girl's eyes darkened venomously as she took a step closer to Alice, even bending down to be at her eye level.

"What did I do? What you are about to do. I am not Lizzie. Such mistakes," she hissed, "are what lead the Liddell family members to their grave. You think you saw a centaur, don't you?"

Alice trembled at such pure poison. "Yes… how do you know that?"

The woman's gaze softened as she straightened, eying Alice with what seemed to be a mixture of several feelings- woe, nostalgia, pity, disappointment and, most of all, sadness. Her voice was less steely when she finally spoke.

"Because, Little Miss Liddell, I am you."

The silence stretched out for what seemed an eternity- Alice couldn't speak.

"When I was your age, I made a mistake. A very simple mistake, mind you, but a mistake nonetheless. Just look around to see what an impact that had." Her eyes took on a wistful look, as though seeing something beyond the monstrosity of Wonderland. "Many others paid for that mistake; how peculiar that one dreamy little eight year old girl's misinterpretation lead to so much suffering…"

"But-" The younger girl said, "You're alive. So Mama and Papa and Lizzie-"

"-It was only I that survived the fire. Dinah saved me. But I'm here to save you. If you are willing, that is."

Alice took a second. She looked at the suffering inhabitants of Wonderland, now twisted and insane. Her eyes roamed over the charred and corrupted landscape before landing on her older self. She was attractive and intelligent, but something in her eyes suggested more. She was broken.

"What is it that you wish?"

The young woman smiled, though it was twisted and cynical and void of any brightness. "Kill that Centaur, Alice. Slay him and save many."

Alice resisted the urge to gasp, but stood her ground. "And how?"

"With a weapon- in your case, I would like to think of the Vorpal Blade as sufficient." She replied, pressing the handle of her blade into Alice's waiting grasp.

"Lizzie… she isn't talking in her sleep, is she?"

"No. And neither is that 'Centaur' a mythical being. Far from it. I have fought through the Hatter's steampunk empire, the frozen wastes and deepest darkest depths of foul oceans. I've shrunk to the size of a wasp, grown once again giant and lain waste to a rotting castle. I have even battled some of the darkest toys to ever be imagined. But this 'Centaur' is easily the most monstrous being that I have ever had the misfortune of being associated with."

Alice nodded. "Then I will do you proud."

Her older self smiled wistfully. "Do yourself proud."

At that she dissolved into a swarm of sapphire butterflies. As Alice watched, they swirled around her body and surrounded her before lifting her high, high, higher…

Alice awoke with a start, a cold sweat soaking through her nightdress and into the bedsheets.

Bedsheets? Ahhh. She was in her bedroom, staring at the ceiling. Her toy rabbit was tucked in one arm, and she stroked its plush fabric with her thumb, trying to sort out her thoughts. Was that dream… was it a dream? A premonition?

"Slay that Centaur." Her older voice echoed. Alice became aware that, in her other hand, she held something rather cool and smooth. The fact that she was holding the Vorpal Blade convinced her that, whatever events had or would occur, she was to follow the teen Alice's instructions.

Gingerly, she removed the bedcover and slipped out, her feet touching the floor almost soundlessly. And then, with great regret, she placed her rabbit on the bed. She would have much rather had the toy with her, but such actions would have been impractical.

As gently as she could, Alice made her way to the door, trying to be silent. The blade felt cold and clammy in her hand, and she was constantly wiping her palms on her nightdress. Slithering out into the hallway, Alice stood in front of Lizzie's door. From it were coming sounds, odd sounds that were most definitely not Lizzie talking in her sleep, nor the sounds of a centaur- that is, unless the centaur was a bespectacled Oxford graduate by the name of Angus Bumby.

Lizzie had always said he was creepy…

Alice didn't know how her older self had come, or what the consequences of doing as she had been instructed would be, but she knew two things for sure.

One: A 'family friend' was in her sister's bedroom doing something inappropriate… and Alice, despite her young age, had a good idea what it was.

Second: She had a knife in her hand, and the willpower to use it.

Maybe she was mad, maybe not. It was possible that by killing the centaur, she would only stir deeper trouble for the family… but seeing her shattered, broken self was enough motivation. She would do it for Alice, for Wonderland.

Tightening her grip on the blade as though her very being depended on it, Alice flung the door open.

AN: Cliffhanger-ish ending, I know. Well, first attempt at writing something non-anime, and I'm actually quite proud. And by 'quite proud' I mean 'I don't completely hate it'.