Alice (The Chronicles of Alice #1)

By Christina Henry; Published In 2015
Genres: Fantasy, Horror, Retellings, Fiction, Adult
Alice dreamed of blood. Blood on her hands and under her feet, blood in her mouth and pouring from her eyes. The room was filled with it.

Alice remembered who she was before. She just couldn’t recall what had happened to that girl to make her this girl.

can’t save everybody. But we can save somebody.

Cheshire's fingers, cold and slightly damp, stroked down the scar on her cheek. She swallowed the shudder of revulsion at his touch.

"Yes," Cheshire said. "He marked you so that he would know you again, and know that you belong to him."

"I belong to no one," Alice said.

He was haunted, same as she was, except he didn’t know the name of his ghost.

He won’t be safe,” Hatcher repeated. “For I will find him and I will strip the flesh from his bones piece by piece. There is no place the Rabbit can hide, no hole he can disappear into. I will not sleep again until I have heard him scream for mercy he will never receive.

How could I ever love you properly with a wall between us for all time?

If you go chasing your freedom your fate will only follow you there and force you back.

If you let the grief in, it might consume you.

Interesting' meant that you attracted the notice of men who would hurt you to possess whatever they found 'interesting' about you.

In the Old City there were very few ways for women to stay alive, and all of them involved a man.

It made Alice realize how much of life was full of empty stuff, objects longed for because the hope of them made your small life seem bigger, better, brighter.

Just how many soldiers do you think I can fight on my own?" Alice asked.
"As many as necessary," Hatcher said. "I believe in you, Alice."
She felt for the first time that she wanted to kiss him, that she wanted to know what it was like when she chose it. So she did.

One day, long ago, she’d gone seeking an adventure and found terror instead. That day had changed the course of her life, and left her hands awash in blood. It was not her fault, but this was how it must be. She understood that now.

Out here the world was bright and sharp and full of hungry mouths waiting to eat her up.

She must start believing in impossible things, for impossible things kept appearing before her eyes.

She was exhausted, and had spent some time breathing smoke and poison.

She would never comprehend the need to hurt those who never hurt her, the need to hate for the sake of hating. She never wanted to rule over others in fear. No, she would never understand the Jabberwocky.

That was the trouble with not being right in the head. You couldn’t always tell if your eyes were telling the truth.

There is more to you than you know. Remember that.

There was comfort in ignorance, in thinking the world a certain way and not knowing any different.

There was no light in their rooms save that of the silver moon through the bars, and the occasional passage of a lamp by the attendant walking the halls. She could not see the color of his eyes, only the wet gleam of them.

Things that are worth nothing are easy to come by.

Thorns pricked at her skin everywhere, poked at her face

Where’s home, my Alice?” Hatcher said. “Where’s home? We don’t have a home, you and I.

you let the grief in, it might consume you.

You mean murder and eat," Alice said.
"No, I mean eat and murder," the rat said. "I'd rather it the other way around, wouldn't you?"
"I'd rather it not all all," Alice said.

You mean murder and eat," Alice said.
"No, I mean eat and murder," the rat said. "I'd rather it the other way around, wouldn't you?"
"I'd rather it not at all," Alice said.

You remember it all now," Hatcher said, and it wasn't a question.

"Yes," she said. She was beyond weeping for the child she once was. "It is, more or less, what you would expect. Except for the part where I escaped. Nobody expected that.

You’re only a mouse if you let them make you one.