Queen Of Madness Act 1
Alice found herself in the icy grip of a desolate cell, her countenance devoid of emotion, her gaze lost in the abyss. As she hummed a haunting melody, fragments of her past began to surface, blurring the line between reality and nightmare. Her screams echoed off the cold stone walls as sanity crumbled under the onslaught of impending madness.
Her mind was a tempest, memories and nightmares colliding in a relentless storm. She was powerless to stem the tide, swept away into a lightless abyss where her spirit threatened to extinguish. Only the sweet release of oblivion could offer respite from the torment of these soul-searing recollections that bound her to an ever-present nightmare.
Yet the visions persisted, pursuing her with the relentlessness of death itself, until every ounce of strength and emotion was drained from her trembling form. The encroaching darkness offered a merciful reprieve, pulling Alice into its narcotic depths as her resistance waned.
Amidst her broken sobs, the fragments of her past coalesced into a vision so hellish that it threatened to shatter her very being. Piece by horrifying piece, the spectral illusions peeled away, laying bare her psyche to revelations that could never be unseen or forgotten.
There, amidst the carnage, knelt her younger self. Her maiden's dress was splattered with crimson, an obscene contrast to the delicate fingers clutching a butcher's tool far too dreadful for her tender years. But it was the joy in her eyes, a perverse ecstasy known only to demons, that screamed the loudest.
With trembling hands, Alice grasped the handle of truth's knife, feeling the sharp edge of anguish carve deep into her heart. It was by her hand that her parents had met their fate, not in some tragic accident, but in a deliberate act born from a twisted soul too young to harbor such dark desires.
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Beatrix Macabre
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