The End of Wonderland

Sunset

The sun is falling.
A decaying building stands tall, although its implosion looms.
What had it once been?
It was made entirely of concrete, as most buildings in the Old City were. Perhaps it had been a parking garage? There were large columns and empty spaces suggesting this, but it had been a while since anyone had seen a car.
A girl emerges from the rubble, face covered with dirt. She grunts as she pushes some rocks aside, her blue dress tearing again as it is caught on a metal hook hanging off the building. She tugs on the dress. Although using a strong force, she stares at the torn fabric with empty blue eyes. She picks up a piece that had fallen off, and pauses, staring. She shrugs, and pulls off a white, bunny-shaped backpack. It is old now, worn and tearing, like most things.
As she continues down the cracked road in front of her, a voice calls out.
"Alice, we must be heading out."
Her bag emits a stream of magic, forming the shape of a young man. His blood red hair shines, seeming to hold the light of the dying sun. He buttons a long, black coat.
"Aren't you cold?"
She does not speak, simply shaking her head in response.
He sighs, and his form dissolves into magic.
She continues to saunter on, passing by the dead and dying Old World buildings.
What had they been? What will they become?
Suddenly, her head perks up as she spots the flickering lights.
A theatre.
The building was fairly far off, but it still towered over her. It was not, unlike the other buildings, decaying. It stood proud, an aging beauty.
She began to jog. The sun was descending rapidly, burning out.
The sign, displaying titles in a bolded font, was hanging off of the building. Alice tilts her head, reading its name.
The Crown Royale.
"That looks dangerous," calls the voice from her bag.
She presses on, the lone traveler on a long-abandoned Highway. She begins to hear a faint rhythm.
"Are those drums?"
The girl nods.
Surely, they must be. As she grew closer to the building, she paused to look back at the sky. The sun was approaching the horizon. She picked up the pace, running. As she turns a corner, the building reveals itself in its entirety. Two large velvet doors, framed with flickering lights, presented themselves. She could barely stop to admire them, and pushes them aside impatiently.
The first thing Alice notices is the floor. It is not concrete. Her old, gray shoes stood upon a soft crimson carpet. She sighed, and began to take in her surroundings. There was beige wallpaper covering the walls, although peeling in some areas. Despite being what once was a lobby, the room was set up like a lounge. There were several crimson sofas and chairs, with dark wooden tables. A few of these seats were taken, as people whispered back and forth, gesturing towards the blonde-haired girl. A woman in a suit rushed past her, handing a drink to a joyous man. Yet the most important element was an elevated platform in the center of the room. She could hear the music now. The smooth bass guitar was held by a cat. A wolf-like man pounded at the drums. And, most notably, a dark-haired woman wearing a red dress held a microphone in her hand. She sang of old times, as the crowd listened intently.
"I haven't seen one of those in years!" The boy in the bag whispered. As the crowd's attention turned away from Alice, he emerged again, watching in awe as the woman sang. Suddenly, her tone changed. She sang of decay and death, destruction and agony. As the song closed, she raised her hands to the sky and whispered:
"Oh Alice... ain't in Wonderland no more..."
The crowd cheers as the song ends. Alice watches curiously, placing her hand on her chest.
The earth rumbles.
The sun expires.