The Huntsman In London {Sequel to Mad and In Love}

The Power of Self Esteam

Alan regained consciousness after the impact almost all at once, making the effort sit up but his body was buried by the rubble. It was more of an effort than he expected but at last he emerged from the shattered brick and mortar, dusting off some of the more finely obliterated remains and cough out cement dust that left a bitter taste in his mouth. He walked into the floating factory of sorts and found the view once again somehow familiar yet off. Yet another evident change but where was the evidence?

His mind raced to try and make sense out of what was in front of him and all Alan could think to say was, "Well...Certainly not my most presentable entrance...I'll definitely have to improve for when I do find her..."

He continued on his way through the factory, using the steam jets to lift and lower himself from mismatched floor plans, no doubt of the hatters concoction in the name of innovation, discovery, and curiosity.

Alan would spend hours navigating the maze like grounds when he once again saw that out of place door frame. One that he remembered, to be the entrance to his home once upon a time...He couldn't help but be drawn to it, magnetized by the whispers that he could swear up and down sounded distinctly like you. He opened the door and inspite of the hellish flames he entered, closing the door behind him to be engulfed in memories.

"Our library was a firetrap! A conflagration waiting to happen!"

"Even so, I don't think it's your fault...And if you say something isn't right, I believe you, Alan...I know it's hard to convince people to listen after what has been done to you...But I'll listen to you and I'll believe what you say about it...Hey, it's alright...You're in good hands now. I won't let anyone hurt you again..."

Emerging from the door his eyes has paths of tears flowing from his eyes as he cherished the memory. No matter how much he even doubted himself, you never gave up believing in him. You never stopped listening, you never stopped caring...If you didn't love him, he couldn't help but love you from the first time he finally realized your presence to this very moment. Yes, if he closed his eyes, your essence still lingered in his head like a welcomed haunting.

Alan leaned back again the door as it pained him. But his obsessive thoughts were never enough, not by a long shot...All those years he missed being with you because he was a coward, unable to face the harsh reality that his family was dead and his body was covered with burns that stung and bled and swelled by the nerves. He was so afraid he never left his safe little world to something so much better than cats that smile and never ending tea parties and croquet with a queen. He felt cheated by time, cheated by himself...How could he just wish away the best thing to ever happen to him? How could he just escape? As a boy he was always told he was strong but how was any of this strength? It was a shame and a disgrace to the idea, he may as well be castrated for his sins. But you were much stronger...

He told himself what you'd say whenever he voiced the self deprecating thoughts that often swirled around in his mind day after day, "Hey now...What are you saying? You don't deserve any of that."

He could remember the touch of your hand as it soothed him with circular rubs from the thumb on his cheek, "Alan, you've worked so hard to get to where you are...You are worth every ounce of effort everyone puts in. You're so bright and creative...I'm sure you'd make the most amazing author...Instantly, your works will be sent all around the world. Think of it! You'll be a classic, English class wouldn't be right without mentioning the infamous Alan Liddell and his adventures. As soon as you get better, it will be straight to the writing desk, you hear me?"

Then you'd laugh as he'd promise it would be so, with you by his side.

Of course you took it differently, "Most definitely, I'll be the best Proofreader and Editor you'll ever have, but I won't go easy on you, I'll have look hard to find any flaws with your incredible ideas."

Once again you'd laugh, perhaps you misinterpreted what he said and even if you wanted to be with him that way, you had to refrain for the sake of your image, your upbringing, your family...You didn't deserve to lose them for his sake...Even if he wanted you to.

He finally pulled himself together...The only way he would ever know was to find you and tell you what he meant...What he felt...Once and for all. He had to find you...He had to...

Upon reaching the conclusion, another steam jet somehow appeared which allowed him to descend to the very bowels of the factory...It was a if you heard him and you were willing him to go there...That he was going to find something he needed down there...

He floated down, the hiss and creak of metal becoming an eerie backdrop for the dark depths of the Hatter's Workshop. When he finally landed he approached what looked like a neurotic version of himself with heavy chains coiled all around. This reflection twitched and growled at the air, almost as if he were a feral beast, some wild and untamed form of human.

"Hatter..." Alan called out the reflections name with no response.

It was moments before the character noticed Alan, looking up from his fix position.

"What-? Oh...If it isn't death at my door...Come in, don't mind the rust and take your time, all that-"

Alan scoffed at the others murmuring, "If only...Hatter, everything has changed...Everything (Y/n) has worked so hard for...She gave me so much and now its all getting...Mixed up...I can't understand it..."

The madman struggled to stand in his pile of chains as difficult as it was, "Can't understand what you don't already know~ What use is there sitting around!? Action is the best medicine! Go, find the keys that release me and your cure is more than found!"

The insane look in the Hatter's eyes caused Alan to step back in skepticism, "The folly of many is to act first and think later. I'm more interested in what you know than what you can do."

"Feh-!" Hatter sat back down in his pile, pouting, "Wouldn't you be interested if you knew what I let you do to her?"

Alan at once drew closer to the hatter, sliding before him to squeeze his shoulders and violently shake the other, "What was it!? What did you do, or I do...What have we done!? Tell me, now or death will really appear before you!"

The hatter laughed at the threat until Alan placed the Vorpal Blade right at his counterparts neck right at the jugular, eye devoid of merriment or jest.

"My life is inconsequential...I'm already destined for the tea tray in the sky, you'll have to give me a better offer." The hatter which once had a dazed and lost expression had suddenly looked at Alan with the exact reflection of his own deadly star, "Find the keys to my shackles, upon my release our actions will speak for themselves..."

Alan dropped the glare, still not removing his blade as he rose back up slowly and began to walk away, back to the steam jets which lifted him up through the factory layers.

"This is why I hate myself..." Alan muttered as he arrived at a smelting section of the factory.