Alice sat in the rubble of the old town hall, her legs dangling precariously over the edge, a fifteen foot drop below her. She was doing something she did often. Opening her khaki hiking bag, pulling out the copy of "Alice in Wonderland" she had, well...it was a children's book, something you generally didn't find in a grow woman's bag, but hey, it was where she got her name. She took out the slender wooden recorder (an english flute) she kept in her bag. She played a few notes, wracking her brain to try and remember something...anything. She remembered waking up. Just five miles east of town none the less. She had woken up, the stubby grass that grew around here grass poking into her back. She had a dark green T-shirt on and a pair of ripped jeans. Sunglasses over her eyes and the khaki backpack on her back. Her hands were sticky with blood. Just who it belonged to she didn't know, she didn't remember. She had no idea.<br/><br/>Alice winced as she tried to remember. Her head seemed to explode. Like someone had shoved a cube of dry ice between the two hemispheres of her brain. She opened her eyes, letting the memory fall away. She played a soft melody, a haunting tune that stirred something in her. She couldn't remember what it was, but it was there. She opened the faded pages of her book and saw the dark faces and the blood. Real blood was on these pages. The almost black coloured, dried blood had darkened the faces and made it seem like more of a horror story than a children's story. She fingered the pages with one hand while she continued with her simple tune on the other.