Prologue: Nightmare and Promise

In the early hours of the morning, sobs can be heard from deep within the critical care unite of one English hospital. Inside a private room, an aged woman sat up with the aid of the inclined hospital bed, her person connected to a beeping machine that monitored her life force. A set of IV's kept a steady flow of water and medication dancing through her veins and an obscuring mask kept oxygen twirling in and out of her weakened lungs. Through the breathing apparatus over her wrinkled mouth, she smiled weakly at the head of a child in her lap, who was sobbing hysterically with no remorse or shame. The long, curly brown head, lifted to look at the old woman, tears and desperation staining her forest green eyes.

"You can't die, Grandma," the thirteen-year-old choked. "You just can't. I need you!" Her tears flowed anew over the brims of her lower lids. The girl tried her hardest to calm the waterworks, if only so she could speak plainly. A childishly balled fists she rubbed at her eyes in a misguided attempt to dry them of all possibly parcipitation. "I want you to stay..." she whimpered.

The old woman, with a fragile hand, took the girls fist from her raw, puffy eyes and held it gentle, unraveling it from its tight ball. "I know, Dear. I know," she cooed, soothingly, though her voice held a rasping effort, rubbing the girls hand in order to offer some comfort. "And I would stay forever if I could possibly but...that is not the case." Her voice barely made it above a whisper. "Just remember our plan. The incubus will show you the way. And...don't forget my letter."

"I won't..." the girl promised with a trembling lower lip.

The woman released her hold of the girl's hand and reached to her complexion. She caressed the flushed, freckled cheek of her granddaughter tenderly, her thumb wiping away one of the many escaping cascades. "Good girl," she whispered. "Would you lay me back now, Child?"

Sniffling, the girl nodded. The weakening woman let her hand fall over her stomach. The girl, holding her breath so not to cry anymore, her throat burning with the tears that were too desperate to fall, stood and adjusted the bed to a laying position. She looked down at her grandmother, her long, silver hair sprawled over the pillow, spilling over the sides of the bed. She tried to imagine her as the young woman that lined the picture frames at home, the strong woman that had taken care of her for as long as she could remember, the woman she admired above all else, but she couldn't. More tears choked her, but she swallowed them back with a mighty effort. She leaned down and kissed her guardian on the forehead.

"Good night, Grandma," she stated, quietly.

Then she pulled a nearby chair closwer to the be and sat down, taking hold of the old woman's hand. It was a feeble action, a naive endeavor that made her think that maybe, just maybe, if she held on to the fading woman's hand, she would have to stay. With a grip keeping her grounded, she could not fall over the final edge, or that's what she wanted to believe as she squeezed the frail hand, receiving a reassuring smile from her grandmother before the old woman closed her eyes, allowing herself to sleep as her granddaughter kept a close watch.

The old woman fell into the dreamworld quite peacefully but, in this world of spiraling, muted color, she was no longer the frail old lady who laid with a distraught child desperately clinging to her hand. In this dream, she was still a sixteen-year-old girl. Her skin was fair, her hair was a pretty shade of dirty blond, and her eyes were still filled with the life that was now fading from her body. Her expression solemn, she looked around the void, searching with her pale blue orbs for a familiar face. Her brow creased and her lips curled into a frown when she did not find it.

"Nightmare?" she called into the emptiness. "Where are you? I don't have much time left!" Even her voice was that of the girl she once was, no longer troubled by the wheeze and crack of age.

As though he had been waiting for a that cue, a man of silver hair and an eye patch materialized from the formless nothing in front of the dreaming female. He offered her a smile that was both glee'd to see her as well as fill with a pain similar to the younger girl outside this thin world of sleep. "Hello, Alice," he greeted, calmly.

Alice managed to smile at him, despite how her mind rang with concern for what was taking place beyond the walls of her dream. She hugged the Incubus. "I'm sorry that I'm putting you through this, Nightmare," she apologized, sincerely, her maturity betraying how she had truly aged, "but-"

Nightmare silenced her but cutting her off, "Don't worry, Alice." He returned the embrace she had given him, hugging her a bit tighter, almost afraid to let her go, just as her granddaughter was afraid to.

Alice nodded, feeling tears of her own brimming in her throat, but she had no time for them. She pushed back from the man so she would be able to look him in the eye. "Is everything ready?"

Nightmare gave a solemn nod, wishing he could have just continue holding her little longer. Even though so much time had past, he still found that he still "loved the foreigner." "Everything is ready," he informed her. "But is the girl ready? Are you sure you want her to go to the Country of Hearts?"

"Yes," Alice replied, her tone definite.

Nightmare quirked a half-smile. It appeared she was still stubborn as ever. "Then I'll make it happen, for you."

Now, a tiny, solitary tear traveled from Alice's eyes. "Thank you." She wiped the tear away. "I'll miss all of you. Please, take care of her for me."

It took everything Nightmare had not to fall into tears then as he felt the dream coming to an end. "We will. I promise."

And Alice smiled.

Alice's granddaughter jolted to awareness when, suddenly, the heart monitor gave a high pitched, morbid howl. She jolted to her feet, horrible aware that the hand she held had gone ominously still. Realizing that the monitor showed a purely flat line streaming across that otherwise black screen, she looked at the face of her grandmother, who held a smile so content it could hardly be real. As the sound continued to ring her ears, she squeezed the limp hand, her eyes welling with tears that would soon be wasted.

"Grandma...?" she questioned, childishly. When she got no response, just as the doctors were floating in, the tears spilled over their only dam and cascaded down her cheeks in search of a comfortable landing that would never come. "Wake up!" the girl screamed to no avail. Alice Liddell did not wake.

So...this is the first chapter in the HNKNA fiction I am writing. What do you think? I would really enjoy some rating, reviews, comments, ideas, anything, even if its just plain harsh. :P

Thanks for reading!

~Tomoru