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her. Grabbed a rather nasty looking lobster fork in one hand. “I’ve had it with you crazy assholes.”
     
    “ Murderess .” The Dormouse said through his teeth.
     
    “ FUCK YOU! ” she screamed, smashing the fork into the table. The wood was soft, like flesh, and she buried it up to her hand. The March Hare pulled his teacup away from the table, as though shocked by her sudden outburst. The Hater simply watched her, not moving or saying anything. The Dormouse rolled his nose on the table, yawned, and tucked his face back into the crook of his arm.
     
    “Fuck this shit,” Alice said. She swept her dishes off the table with a crash, and then grabbed a butter knife. “Anyone who follows me gets their balls cut off.”
     
    She walked backward away from the table, eyes on the three lunatics. Then she turned and stalked off toward the side of the large rabbit house. When she got to the corner she turned and spared one last look back at the table.
     
    The Mad Hater was busy stabbing the Dormouse in the top of his head. Behind him, The Mad Hater had pushed the Dormouse’s coat halfway up his back, and was mounting him from the rear. She could have sworn the Dormouse was sleeping.
     
    Further into the woods there was a tree with a door on it. Having no direction in mind, no place to go, Alice opened the door. It was warm inside, brightly lit, and Alice stepped into a hallway. She slammed the door behind her, but at the last moment it stopped and drifted open again. Alice turned and looked.
     
    It was the Hater, his clothes stained with blood and jam, one tooth knocked crooked in his perfect smile, fingering his watch and staring her down with bright, cheery eyes.
     
    “Hello Honey,” he said. “I’m home.”
     
    He dropped his watch. In that instant he was moving at Alice, moving impossibly fast, so fast he seemed to stretch out and elongate, as though she were seeing him in two places at once, still standing in the doorway and intolerably close to her face at the same time, his black claws tearing through his satin gloves and raking at her flesh, cupping her head in his hands like a Faberge egg.
     
    “Shhhh...” he whispered, his face so close to hers she could see the writhing bands of muscle and jagged scar tissue under a layer of facepaint and stage makeup. The serene calm his face projected was only a facade. It was a parlour trick. The Mad Hater wasn’t a creature prone to occasional bouts of fury, like her father was. The Hater was chaos incarnate wrapped in a pretty picture; like opening the most beautiful present under the Christmas tree and triggering the bomb that had been hiding inside it.
     
    “It will all be over so quickly,” he whispered, and a line of drool dropped from his mouth to Alice’s teeth. It burned where it touched. The Hater rolled her like a doll in his arms, grabbing the side of her face and putting his mouth close to her ear. “It might sting a little, Pretty Plaything.”
     
    And then he was stretching again. Alice felt like she was falling into a swimming pool of The Mad Hater; he poured over her body like molasses ( treacle, she corrected ) and seeped into her pores. He flooded her nose and ears, forced his way past her lips and around her teeth. She felt him wiggle past the tears in her asshole, in to her cunt and under her fingernails. She couldn’t breathe, couldn’t scream, and when he poured into her eyes and flooded her tear ducts with his madness she couldn’t see either. Her lungs were for screaming for air, but they were full of The Mad Hater and she could feel him swirling into her blood like a flushing toilet, sucking and snorting like a pig rooting in shit. And then it was over and she was lying on the ground sobbing and scratching at her ears and face.
     
    I am always with you , The Hater’s voice said from deep inside her mind. I am always with you.
     
    Alice stood up.
     
    Oh, you’re going to be just perfect for what I have in mind. Let’s walk