Alice froze for several moments, gazing in disbelief at the dark depth of Blood's eyes. For an instant, she felt the tugs on the strings of her heart, gazing into the face that was so similar to his. For one absolutely insane and absolutely beautiful moment, she convinced herself the sincerity that seemed to pour from his very being. Alice bit her lip in hesitation, staring but not speaking. Almost reluctantly, her hand reached up towards his hand that was still curled around her hair.

"Oh, the expression on your face," Blood snickered, pulling away. Alice's hand dropped, biting her tongue at the sudden change in atmosphere and the sadistic expression on his face. She tasted the metallic tang of blood. "Did you believe me, my little whore? Stop staring at me like I'm your ex. Don't stare at me with those ravenous eyes, transforming me into someone I'm not. Don't ask me to not treat you like an outsider when you won't quit treating me like some disgusting boy from the past. Glance in my direction like that one more time, and I'll cut your eyes out." His words came out in a bitter hiss, cape fluttering as he swept away. Alice opened and closed her mouth several times as words refused to choke out. She felt her knees give way underneath her, slumping miserably onto the ground as if his spiteful words had been slaps to her face.

She breathed heavily, fighting against the ice that seeped into her heart. Why had she deluded herself for even a moment? How could she have let herself believe a mouth that only lied and eyes that could not light with any nuance of sincerity? Swirling green and luscious blues swirled into the hazy crystal of her eyes, fighting against the tears that gathered at the corners of her weak heart. Clearly, appearances signified nothing. It mattered not if he was the doppelganger of the one she had once loved, perhaps even still held feelings for in the crevasses of her heart, Blood Dupre held not even a miniscule drop of the same sincerity, kindness, and laughter that had exuded from her past love. Similar in appearances, but never in their demeanor, Alice reminded herself firmly as she lifted herself off of the ground. Never again would she fall for his softly whispered words, nor the seductive lull of his voice that could so enchant her. Never again.

"Excuse me, is there a place I can stay?" Alice questioned politely, lightly tapping the shoulder of one of Dupre's servants. The man smiled genially, immediately ceasing whatever task he had been occupied with in order to assist her.

"Why, of course. Please, just this way," his deep voice rumbled as he turned on his heel, in the direction of the mansion. She stepped over the threshold and sighed in bliss at the coolness of indoors, glancing outdoors in confusion at the persistent sun that hung high in the sky. She glanced furtively at the servant leading the way, the slightest of frowns playing at her lips as she observed his features. How the others in this world could not distinguish between the 'faceless' servants was an enigma that never ceased to puzzle her. Each was ever so distinct from the next, as different as Peter was from Ace. Perhaps, she pondered cautiously, this man could answer her questions.

"I have a question," Alice ventured hesitantly, leaning slightly toward the left to look the servant in the eye. The cheerfulness did not leave his face as he bobbed his head agreeably. "Today's time period is… inexplicably long. I've never seen the day last so long in all my time here, six or seven time periods would have passed in just this one. What's happening?" She was surprised at the jolt that went through the servant, the cheer that dropped from his suddenly crestfallen face.

"Alice, missus, I'm afraid you've fallen upon us during a very dark hour. There were happier times than now, much, much happier than now. There were smiles all around. It was a time when Ace was never lost, Boris did not partake in his dangerous activities he so delightedly indulges in today, when Julius smiled more often than he frowned, and when master Dupre," the servant's voice entered a dream like state, the obvious bliss of that time period coloring the slight nuances of his tone as he spoke. Alice watched as his face seemed to transform, absolute content and longing evident upon the wizened creases of the man. He was, however, interrupted by a clearing of the throat. Alice turned in surprise to see Elliot leaning upon the railing of the stairs, the normal innocent gleam of his face vanished.

"Elli-" Alice did not receive the chance to finish calling his name. Instead, a scream escaped her frame as a loud bang filled the silence of the mansion; smoke distorting her vision for just a moment as Alice shook in terror. Her knees buckled and she fell next to the man, just a moment ago so alive, so kind and cheerful, and now, dead. Even in death, the smallest of smiles seemed to dance mockingly upon his lips, eyes still open. A tear rolled down her cheek as she stared down at the servant, willing him to get back up, to be alive. However, blood seeped upon the fringes of her socks and clothing as he passed into oblivion. With shaking hands she touched the bullet wound lightly, it had been a clean shot, straight to the man's heart.

"How could you?" Alice whispered, disbelief coloring her voice as she stared up at Elliot. His eyes were hard as he glared back; eyes trained more upon the now dead servant than Alice.

"It was necessary," Elliot replied dully, turning his head and calling a servant to him. Nervously, the small girl skittered up to him, fear clearly shaking her petite frame. "Go to the Queen and tell her we'll need a new head of the house, this one couldn't keep his mouth in check. And tell her it'll have to be someone from Afterward, it's too dangerous if it's not." His orders were crisp and cool, so different from the Elliot Alice had thought she had known. The girl scurried off, lips mouthing the message as she did in order to not forget it.

"Alice, let's get going then," Elliot called out cheerfully, the sudden change in demeanor shocking Alice. She ran up the stairs after his retreating back.

"How can you act like that? Murder someone one moment and the skip and cheer and smile the next? Elliot!" Alice reprimanded harshly, jerking at his sleeve. She, however, received only a sad smile in response.

"So, you and Blood?" he teased lightly, concealing the hard light that tainted his gloomy eyes with a, in Alice's opinion, pathetic attempt at a joyful smile. Alice flushed and averted her eyes, temporarily distracted.

"I. Have. Nothing. To. Do. With. That. Man." she spit out, red seeping into the corners of her eyes, fists clenched and her frame shaking stiffly. Even the mention of his name caused the flare of anger to lash at the chains of her self-restraint. Elliot's face relaxed for a moment, the easygoing smile she had grown so accustomed to crowning his features. He stopped before two grand doors, jerking his head towards a servant who hurried forward to swing open the doors. Alice gave the slightest gasp of surprise.

The room was, to say the least, extravagant, and yet, beautiful in its simplicity. The slightest giggle of delight escaped her as she pranced into the room, eyes gleaming in amazement at the oversized room. The lazy, lavender curtains that hung over the windows allowed her to see the entire sprawling expanse of the kingdom, a grand piano glistening in the corner of the brightly lit room, and the bed, draped too with curtains and also pristine sheets. She launched herself onto the bed with, this time, a loud laugh, hugging a pillow as she rolled around the large expanse. Alice uttered a yelp of surprise as she rolled off the bed, finding herself suddenly on the gentle carpet that seemed to stroke her skin as she fell on top of it. Alice chuckled at herself, allowing her hands to roam upon the softness of the carpet, bumping against her white long socks stained with blood. She froze. Her momentary ecstasy was forgotten as the look of the man's face as the light escaped him filled her mind. Silently, she rose from the floor, glancing at Elliot who had been laughing at her antics.

"I'd like to be alone for a little bit," she finally said quietly, eyes trained upon the ground and hands tucked neatly behind her back, unfailingly polite. She did not look up as he turned from the room, she did not see the flash of pain and hurt that passed his face as he opened his mouth to speak, but then closed it and turned away, crestfallen. It was not until Alice heard the click of the door that she allowed herself to crumple to the ground, sobs ripping from her body as the scene of the man's death played again and again in her head. She despised the murder, the casualness of murder that was so eminent in this new world. With shaking hands and through the tears that blurred her vision, Alice peeled off her socks, tossing the bloodstained memories into a laundry bin.

Almost hesitantly, Alice peeled open the dresser that stood in the corner of the enormous room, shocked to find it replete with various women's clothing. Hesitantly, Alice pulled out a dress and held it to herself, wiping the last of her tears as she did so. It was slightly small, but it would still fit. Holding it at arm's length, Alice took a moment to admire it. Truly, it was well made and painstakingly so. Whoever this had been made for, Alice mused as she ran her fingers over the soft, silk fabric, had been well loved. The affection with which the dress was made seemed clear in the perfection of the stitching, the perfection with which the dress seemed to reflect the most perfect shades of purple and glisten with the rays of the sunlight. Stripping off hers, Alice slipped into the dress, staring in amazement in the large mirror hanging on the wall. It was simple at best, with a sweetheart neckline and sleeves that hung loosely off of her shoulders, the dress itself reaching to about her knees. A white bow hung around the waist and, Alice grudgingly admitted as she took a breath, the former wearer had been a tad smaller than she. Alice closed her eyes, imagining how it had looked on whomever it had been intended for. Was she beautiful? Did the dress cling to all the right curves and flow upon the petite frame more gracefully than it did upon hers? She shook such thoughts from her mind with a rueful smile and turned back to the dresser, opening the bottommost drawer to find a line of shoes neatly lined up. Picking out a pair of simple, white flats that seemed to be made for the particular dress, She turned towards the door, surprised to find Blood standing at the door. A flush covered her cheeks.

The look upon his face, however, was unfathomable. Crystal blue eyes locked with dark brooding ones, and it seemed a million words were spoken in that one look. Alice felt the loneliness, the wistful longing that manifested more clearly on his face that she had ever been privileged to witness before, felt it with such acuteness that it was turned to pain. He cleared his throat after a moment, voice rough from emotion that Alice could not quite comprehend.

"I was only passing by to invite you to dinner," he explained quietly, surprising Alice. She had braced herself for another caustic remark, for the malice that his venomous words were always laced with. Alice inclined her head politely.

"If you are so kind to invite me, I would be honored," she replied, neither hate nor companionship coloring her voice, indifference shining in her eyes as she finally turned away from him.

"She is so unlike the original wearer of that dress," Blood muttered to himself silently, the slightest tinge of acrimonious longing tainting his voice, so silently Alice wondered from a moment if she had imagined it, if she had perhaps heard him wrong. Her eyes darted upward to question him, but he was already gone.

Alice wandered through the mansion, ignoring the subtle whispers from a few servants as she walked by, passing through the archway into the garden where she had first had tea with Blood. There sat the twins, arguing over a rather sharp knife, Alice observed with a wary smile, Elliot, and, of course, Blood. She cleared her throat and curtsied delicately, taking her place in between Elliot and Blood. Shock passed fleetingly through Elliot's expression for a moment, before his face colored and he turned quickly away. The twins dropped the knife and stared blatantly, both mouths open to form a comical picture. Blood however, kept his eyes trained well upon his plate of food, giving Alice the slightest of nods to acknowledge her presence.

"Ele?" the twins blurted out simultaneously, the inexplicable disbelief they felt coloring their tone. Elliot's head whipped around towards Blood in distress, but he merely sipped at his tea, quirking one eyebrow in the direction of the two children.

"I would rather not freshen your memory, but they are hardly similar in appearance. I would advise you to keep your mouth firmly shut," Blood responded, the threat that was sure to be followed through clear in the hard words. The twins, however, barged onwards recklessly.

"But the dress! The dress is Ele's!" they exclaimed, insistent in their belief. With casual laziness, Blood reached over to his cane, which had been leaning upon the side of his chair, and flipped it into his hand, turning it into a much more compact and dangerous weapon as he did so.

"I would advise you to keep your mouth firmly shut," Blood said again, deadly in the quiet intonation of his words. Immediately the twins fell silent, slipping cakes into their mouths to obviate the necessity to respond. Elliot smiled and began to speak boisterously in a transparent attempt to release the tension.

"Blood! These cakes are the best! You know what is really good? Carrot cake with carrot toppings and carrot frosting, not saying anything against this cake though, it really is fantastic. But just because I like carrot desserts does not mean I'm a rabbit…" the hum of his voice continued onward as Alice was lost in her own thoughts, processing the scene that had just played before her. So there was a name to the owner of the dress, she mused as her fingers stroked the soft fabric. Ele. Simple yet beautiful. Was that the way she had been? Where had she gone? Alice's eyes darted towards Blood, taking in his emotionless face. What had the servant wanted to say, before Elliot had ended his life? Had there been a time where Blood's expression was filled only with joy? Or perhaps, even love? Alice shook her head and laughed silently to herself, shaking the ridiculous thoughts from her mind. There was no reason for her to wander in such dangerous territory, it was no business of hers what Blood's past may or may not have been. Elliot nudged her, his bright smile filling her view as he inched closer.

"Alice! This is a party, well a tea party, but in the sense of the word, they're both parties. You can't just sit there and laugh to yourself, tell us the joke!" Elliot teased, pouring her more tea and popping another carrot cake into his mouth. She laughed and nodded in agreement. It would do her no good to ponder on subjects that would only bring her insecurity and uncertainty. And she had already decided that she would never again fall for Blood's antics. Giving Elliot the brightest of smiles, Alice allowed herself to be absorbed in the festivities with her companions as the bright sun still beat down upon them from high in the sky.

Alice sank into the soft covers of the grand bed, exhausted by the day that had never ended. The moon had finally snuck out over the edges of the hills and relieved her from the heat of the sun, and also Blood's tea party. It had only taken one or two hours for Elliot to decide to indulge in a bit of alcohol, complaining that Ace was much more entertaining to drink with than Blood, considering that Alice had refused and the twins were much too young. She had been surprised, however, when Blood sipped, regal as he always was, at the bottle Elliot had rambunctiously shoved into his hand. And then another bottle. And then another. Alice giggled to herself, he could drink just as much as Ace and show absolutely no effects. A sudden knock on her door jolted Alice out of her reverie and she heaved herself reluctantly off of the bed.

"Blood?" Alice questioned in surprise as she swung open the door. Her shoes clattered to the floor as they slipped out of her numb fingers. After everything he had done, after every malicious word he had spat into her face with hate-filled eyes, why and how could he be standing there, staring at her with those eyes? It seemed that the pain that she had perceived earlier in the day had only been a ghostly reflection of what Blood held within himself. Suffering that exuded from his very being stabbed through Alice, pierced her mercilessly. He seemed a man lost, lost within his own world of pain and loneliness. It scared her. He stumbled into her bedroom, eyes wildly searching the room as an animal trapped in an unknown environment.

"Blood, you're drunk," Alice reprimanded as she grabbed his arm and heaved him into a chair. Again, underneath the stench of alcohol that tainted him, Alice smelt the slightest whiff that stopped her heart, which reminded her of her lost love. She shook her head, reminding herself of the promise to herself. A clumsy hand reached towards her face, grabbing it roughly and forcing her to turn her head towards him. His grip only tightened as she attempted to jerk away.

"You," he whispered coarsely, eyes spinning wildly in an attempt to focus. "Who are you to be wearing that dress? Who?" Alice felt her heart skip, finally stumbling away from him and gasping. It was none of her business, it did not concern her, she should not seek…

"Who's dress was this?" she finally whispered, afraid, so violently terrified, of hearing the truth. A rough laugh escaped from him as he vaulted from the chair, stumbling towards her.

"Do you understand? I want to rip that dress from your body, I want to rip it from your body and then tear it into unrecognizable pieces of fabric, unrecognizable. Then I'll burn it and burn away all the memories. And do you know what I'll do after that?" he grabbed her hair, pulling at it and forcing her to approach him. "Do you know what I'll do little Alice? I'll rip out this hair because it's not the black that I love, and then I'll carve out those eyes that aren't the right shade of violet, burn the lips that don't curve the way I want them to. I will destroy you, because you aren't her." His last words were forced out breathlessly, punctuated with a vicious snarl. Alice scampered away, forcing her eyes to look anywhere but the violent malice that filled the darkness of his heart, the suffering and sorrow that exuded from his very being. Blood pulled out his gun, shooting it arbitrarily as Alice raced towards the door.

"Blood! Blood! Stop it!" she screamed above the sound of the gunshots, attempting to force reason into the dead soul. He approached her slowly, forcing her against the wall of the bedroom she had once seen as so magnificent, forced her towards her death. Alice bit her lip to keep from sobbing as the gun entered her line of vision, forgetting to breathe as his finger fell upon the trigger.

"You're not her," he whispered, voice filled with bitterness. "Why aren't you her?" Time slowed down as she watched his finger pull down upon the trigger, as her lids fell heavy over her eyes, not wishing to see the last scene of her death played out before her. But the loud shot never came; she never felt the piercing bullet digging mercilessly into her skin. Almost hesitantly, Alice opened one eye, and then both flew open.

"B-Boris?" she exclaimed, allowing herself to breathe as she saw him towering over Blood, both his gun and Blood's each in one hand. He turned an eye towards her, never allowing Blood out of his sight.

"Sorry Alice. I was very, very stupid to leave you alone with him today. No one should be alone with a guy like him, ever, don't'cha think? But especially not today," Boris joked, attempting to lighten the mood. He threw Blood's gun on the ground in disgust, leaning closer to the drunken man.

"Watch yourself Blood. There are very few things in this world I wouldn't forgive, especially when it comes to you, but you are very bordering very close upon one of them," Boris hissed, eyes narrowing in the delivery of the concealed threat. Blood did not respond, only covered his eyes with his hand and heaved a sigh. Boris shook his hand in disgust, grabbing Alice's hand as he walked obstinately out.

"Well, the way things've turned out, looks like you'll be needin' a place to bunker down, yeah? We've got lots of places in the park, and old man Gowland won't mind at all, he loves you," Boris chattered cheerfully, guiding her carefully out of the mansion, one hand always on his gun. He paused for a moment, swiveling his head towards Alice. "We all do."

"Not Blood," Alice whispered, shame coloring her face as she looked away. A comforting squeeze enveloped her hand as Boris responded.

"He does love you, we all do. He just loves you too much, Alice, that's his problem," Boris explained soothingly, pulling her along all the while. Despite the relaxed manner of his speaking, he seemed eager to be away from the mansion, an urgency filling his steps.

"Well I'll never love him, never in the entire time I'm here will I ever love him back," Alice retorted stubbornly, allowing her hand to slip out of his as she crossed her arms. Boris laughed, laughed that beautiful tinkling laugh that seemed to dance with joyous tones, allowing a casual arm to sling over her body.

"That's good then," his voice light and teasing, automatically more relaxed when they stepped over the threshold into his territory. "Just love me best, okay?" Alice laughed and pushed him away, feeling the ice that had been forming around her fragile heart beginning to melt.

"Of course Boris, you're always my favorite," she responded with a quirked eyebrow, laughing as she did so.

"Oh really? Well who says you're mine?" he retorted, pulling her back under his arm. Alice stuck her tongue out in response, pulling at the collar around his neck.

"Well I had better be Boris Airay! Or else… or else…" Alice trailed off face scrunched in an attempt to think of a proper punishment

"Or else you'll stutter at me?" Boris mocked, swinging open the door with his free hand and a foot. Alice laughed and rolled her eyes, a smile warming her face at the sight of his. It seemed he was everything Blood was not. Playful and caring, always keeping an eye out for her. She never felt the discomfort and insecurity that was forced out in the mere presence of Blood when spending time with Boris. It was only content and happiness that filled her heart.

"Boris. Who's Ele?" Alice asked suddenly, shocking herself out of her own thoughts. She had already committed herself and Alice was determined to piece together every missing piece of the puzzle. And Boris was the only one who was ever honest with her. He shrugged nonchalantly, as if it were entirely inconsequential to him.

"Some girl. She was the first outsider to ever come here, and everyone loved her, blah, blah, blah," Boris explained, boredom clear in his voice. He swung open a door suddenly, revealing a room not nearly as grand as the one she had stayed in in the mansion, but charming in its own way. She turned around to thank him, but he had disappeared. Cocking her head in confusion, Alice opened her mouth, but was interrupted by a ghostly hand covering it.

"Boris?" Alice murmured through the gag, fear freezing her for a moment. A silent laugh confirmed her suspicion, and she pushed him away in annoyance. "Scare the wits out of me during the middle of the night why don't you!" She turned and found him standing there, a smirk plastered onto his handsome features.

"I went to get you a shirt, silly!" Boris retorted, tossing a rumpled white cloth to her. Alice made a grab for it, blinking in surprise as it slipped through her fingers. He laughed gently and reached over to pick it up, stepping closer to her and placing it firmly in her hand. "You need something to sleep in, right?" His voice was deep, eyes sparkling in the playful way they always seemed to do. Alice nodded wordlessly, a bizarre blush spreading across her cheeks.

"You okay? Do you have a fever or something? You're red," Boris asked in concern, sweeping a hand over her forehead. Idiot. Alice glanced anywhere but at his kind face. He was simply compassionate towards everyone; there was nothing special about her, nothing that endeared him to her especially. Perhaps that was the reason she enjoyed his company. Alice smiled and assured him nothing was fun, bidding him good night and slipping into the quaint bedroom. She slipped off the purple dress and allowed it to crumple into a corner of the bedroom, tucking it away just as she did with every unwanted memory that haunted her every waking moment. With a satisfied sigh, Alice threw on the oversized shirt, it fell upon her frame long enough to be excused as a dress, and snuggled into the covers of the bed, not nearly as grand as the one in the mansion, yet entirely more relaxing. And as Alice was falling into oblivion, as her mind wandered deep into the mysterious abyss of dreams and sleep and despite the hardships she had been forced to endure in just a single day, she was content.