Habanera playing in the background while I fall? Weird.
A snow tiger at the bottom of a dark tunnel? Weird.
And to top it all off, a beam of light that only seems to care about the tiger while everything else, even the spot where I now stand trembling, is lost in the darkness?
Weird, weird, weird.
Or maybe curious is the better term, since everything in here is starting to feel like someone's crackpot version of Wonderland. Everything's just weird and curious, and for a couple of moments I can only wait for the penny to drop and panic to explode inside of me.
...
C'mon now.
...
But nothing happens. Either I'm still in a state of shock or this is how my survival instincts do their job to save my ass. In any case...
First things first, Addie.
It's my go-to when facing something unexpectedly depressing or frightening, and I need to get a grip on myself fast.
First things first, always.
I carefully turn my gaze back to the snow tiger. The creature's licking its paw now, and bloody hell, but the size of that paw is terrifying.
I had a summer job at a zoo once, and my then-supervisor insisted I learn all sorts of trivia to entertain the kids. So the kingdom of animalia?
Above average expert here, which is why I know for certain this beast is an outsized anomaly.
No tiger on earth can be this big, and if I weren't so terrified the smallest movement would have it pouncing on me like I'm its next meal, I'd have given myself a pinch and half a slap, just to be sure I'm not dreaming anything up.
I mean, I hope I'm dreaming.
Really, really hope so...because the tiger has finally remembered it's not alone—-
Shit.
And now the creature's staring at me like it's just discovered a new toy.
Oh dear.
The words, popping out from nowhere, make me feel silly. I've never been the kind who thinks (or speaks) along the lines of oh dears and oh mys, but it's as if the craziness of the past few minutes have gotten to me, and I find myself taking on more and more of Alice's qualities...even if this isn't exactly Wonderland.
Because if it is, I'd only have to deal with a cat.
But instead I'm having a stare down with a snow tiger of all things, and one whose eyes happen to be an extraordinary shade of green. Not the kind that glows in the dark, but something more mesmerizingly iniquitous, like a shade of moss with a touch of jade.
I must be dead, I think again, and all of this is my mind playing tricks on me while I wait for Judgment Day. Or maybe the real world's been infected by a virus, I've become a zombie without knowing it, and—-
Whoa!
The moment I see the larger-than-life feline stretch its limbs to its full length, I stop worrying about my sanity and start paying more attention to my survival. The striped beast has raised itself on all four of its paws now, and my heart jumps to my throat when I see that it's as tall as a horse.
Oh, c'mon!
A tiger's bad enough, but for it to be as tall as a horse, too?
The beast stares at me unblinkingly, and I force myself to stare back, not wanting it to think I'm afraid. Even if I am.
But then...
My brows furrow.
Should I still be afraid, considering I might be dead, dreaming, or mad?
Maybe I should try talking—-
Huh.
I finally notice the tiger's mouth moving ever so slightly, and I can hardly believe my eyes. I blink several times, but I'm still seeing it.
A grin!
The tiger...is grinning.
At me!
And that grin...why does that grin look so familiar?
It rather reminds me of-—
"Cheshire Cat!"
The words are out of my mouth before I even realize what I'm saying, and the beast actually flashes another Cheshire grin...just as it starts to shift.
What the bloody freak!
A guy standing's before me now, with eyes the same enthralling shade of green, and hair streaked in a familiar pattern of bluish black and silver. He looks about my age - maybe nineteen? - but he feels older. More...self-possessed.
His leather trench coat with its upturned collar adds a rather devilish edge to his otherwise boyishly handsome looks, and underneath it his silk striped shirt and matching leather pants are so tight it's impossible not to notice the washboard hardness of his abs and the intimidating bulge...
Whoa, Addie.
His grin might be Cheshire, his body to die for, but his species is still Panthera Tigris, and I'd be a fool to forget this, whether I'm dead, dreaming, or mad.
"Hello there, little Alice."
"Uh...hello." I tend to be rather bitchy with my thoughts, but Mum has done a good job brainwashing me with good manners when I was young. If one says 'hello', I automatically have to say 'hello' back, no excuses.