spilling sewage washed it back down into the mud.
“That’s my heart,” shouted Alice as she waddled over, heavy and sloshing with water.
She managed to pick the rabbit up in both hands; it looked like a stuffed toy, yet had the feel of bone wrapped in wet rags. The rabbit immediately screeched a horrible sound when Alice lifted it from the mud. It tore away its mask and sank sharp teeth deep into Alice’s left hand. There was no pain but Alice shook the creature this way and that. The rabbit refused to let go, so she had no choice but to smash its head against the pipe. The rabbit spun from Alice’s hand and disappeared into the darkness of the sewer.
“Well, I never,” gasped Alice. She held her bitten hand to her eyes.
Two fingers were now missing. Strange, thought Alice, as to why there was no blood. The skin and stumps were a pale greenish. She tore a piece of material from her dress and wrapped the makeshift bandage over her wound.
Alice’s mother had always taught her to keep her most precious emotions in her heart. Alice remembered her mother holding and stroking her hair. She ran her finger over her chest bone, making the shape of a love heart. Having the organ stolen was akin to having the love she held for her departed parents taken away. Alice searched herself for any feelings, only to find she had none. Death had hollowed her. This would not do at all; Alice had no choice but to follow the rabbit.
The rusted pipe, although tiny in comparison to Alice, would still be able to accommodate her if she crawled on her stomach. She waited until her eyes had adjusted to the dark and her nose to the stench before using the bank to climb into the pipe. There was a lining of soft debris and a kind of slime not unlike that of slugs, so Alice slid along at a pace.
This isn’t so dreadful, thought Alice.
The running water washed away most of the mud and the rats that ran along seemed friendly enough, only occasionally stopping to nibble at her legs. However the rabbit was nowhere to be seen, but Alice could hear screeching further along. She believed herself to be getting closer to her quarry when all of a sudden the pipe took an impossibly sharp dip, sending Alice sliding down, sprawling.
Chapter Three
Alice fell into limbo. How long ago had she done so? She couldn’t guess as no time had fallen with her. Even the sensation of dropping was very mild with only the slightest flutter of Alice’s dress and the awkward position of her legs indicating her journey downward. It was as such that Alice’s mind began to wander and she was wondering if anyone would be searching for her when suddenly the strangest of events occurred. Memories began to play out around her and scenes from her previous life appeared.
She saw herself as a five-year-old, all smiles and long blonde hair and pretty blue dress; she was showing her father a picture she had drawn. Alice’s father was smiling, and put his stethoscope around Alice’s neck, before grabbing her, smothering her in cuddles. The play disappeared as if made from wisps of smoke and was replaced by another.
It was her mother: Alice sat on her knee; her mother, kindly and beautiful, read from a book of rhymes. Alice knew exactly which one. She mouthed it along with her mother:
The queen of hearts
,
Stole body parts
,
From the cemetery one day
.
The queen of hearts did sew those parts
,
To keep herself ageing away
.
Then tragedy forced itself before Alice. A scene she would never wish to see again but so strong she couldn’t help but watch. Her poor mother and father were in the parlour, seemingly asleep in their coffins. Alice’s father, the most generous doctor anyone had known, treated many of the very sick and poor. His kindness, however, fate repaid with pain and let cholera follow him home.
Chapter Four
There was a crash.
Then rolling.
Into what felt like dried sticks and dead leaves.
They pierced and tore through Alice’s skin. They snapped and