Chapter 11

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Too weird to live, too rare to die!
― Hunter S. Thompson

Chapter 11

Black fog filled the entire space.

Alice was crouched down on her hands and knees, a dreadful scream fleeing her lips. Her body jolted each time a spasm ran through her; she had no control. Alice couldn't focus on anything; she couldn't bring herself to calm down. Blood seeped out of her eyes and nose, her fangs extracted and her nails dug into her palms. She was in pure agony; it felt as though she was being stabbed a thousand times over.

She lost consciousness after a while and found herself in a dream. It all seemed too familiar. It was dark and misty around her, and Alice found herself at a riverbank. Forest trees surrounded her, and far in the distance, Alice could see the sunrise. She was afraid, but her attention shifted to something else. There were many women surrounding her, clothed in white dresses that were drenched in blood. They didn't seem pleased by Alice's presence, in fact, the women forebodingly closed in on her.

"Death," one woman whispered, turning her gaze to look at the others. One by one, the other women started chanting along with her. "Death, death, death—" Their chanting grew louder and Alice dropped to the ground, curling herself into a foetal position. The sun was closing in on her. She shut her eyes tightly and pressed her hands against her ears. She wanted to block out their voices, but somehow, incredulously, the voices slipped into her mind, and Alice couldn't help but let out a cry.

A hand caressed her cheek and her eyes shot wide open. There she was, standing fragile and vulnerable with her childish blue eyes. It was the human Alice. She whimpered as Alice cringed away from her touch; Alice had no idea whether she ought to be afraid or not. The human version of Alice sat down next to Alice and pulled her into her lap. A lone tear ran down her cheek and she placed a soft kiss on top of Alice's head.

"What do you want?" asked Alice, her endless black eyes staring tentatively into blue ones.

Human Alice sighed.

"You were meant to die Alice, not kill." Her voice was soft and gentle, and there was a sense of caring in her tone. But Alice couldn't trust someone who wanted her dead; she couldn't trust her human self who proclaimed her destiny was to die.

Alice expected to wake up from this haunting dream, but instead human Alice stood up and extended her hand towards her. She was hesitant; she had no idea where she was, or who these women were. Alice didn't understand the haunt message that human Alice kept giving her. What did it mean? She was meant to die, not kill? She wasn't supposed to have become an Immortale?

"I don't want to die," she whimpered, and bloody tears streamed down her cheeks. "I don't want to die!"

Alice jolted upright and found herself back at the Alcazar. Many faces were gathered around her, and it overwhelmed her; Alice was still unable to focus on anything concrete. Arthur and Anastasia were hunched down next to her, their faces carved with confusion, fear and concern. But Alice's mind was foggy and clouded; she couldn't identify their emotions, she couldn't classify them at all.

She was on her feet in an instant, her fangs extracted and her nostrils flared. Black fog still lingered in the room, but Alice didn't feel the uncontrollable need to screech. Instead, she attacked, lunging for the nearest human and ripping out his torso. She didn't stop though; Alice attacked until every human being lay lifeless. Blood coated her hands and arms, and droplets trickled down her chin. She wiped at her mouth with the upside of her hand, smearing blood across her cheek. Alice resembled the image of Carrie White on her prom night.

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