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I hid it in the drawerAnd forgot that it was there,Nestled between the socks and linen white underwear.There were photographs of me dressed in shirts and ties,What was once a shame—today I proclaimed myself a dyke. Time swept across the room,And the sun’s shadow at the corner looms.I returned to this sacred place,Seeking solace and personal space. An unfamiliar voice (twas rich and deep),And so my eyes began to search,As the room was dimly lit,My eyes narrowed to nitpick. Sweet was the hourI looked into his eyes,His lips not quite soft as a woman’s—Yet why does it bear equal invite?(He stood there with an all-knowing smirk.) Scent like wood and tangerines,Cologne from fashion magazines,Newly printed books and fresh-cut wood—Whatever it was—he smelled very, very good. Why was he there? –I wasn’t sure,But curiosity piqued me that I wanted to draw near.My heart began to pound, and oh, if he heard the sound—Is that why he is smiling from ear to ear? Why is his presence so

In the shattered remains of Wonderland, a twisted reflection of its former glory, Alice Liddell, once a child of boundless joy, now treads a path paved with madness and despair. The gruesome murder of her family, a brutal act mirroring the horrors she witnessed in her descent into Wonderland's corrupted heart, has fractured her sanity. The Cheshire Cat's sly grin mocks her from the shadows, the Queen of Hearts' cruelty a chilling echo of the violence she's endured. Driven by grief and a thirst for vengeance, Alice, her once-bright eyes now burning with a dark, unsettling fire, seeks not to restore Wonderland, but to dismantle it, brick by twisted, nightmarish brick. Her descent into chaos is mirrored by a horrifying parallel; across a desolate, war-torn land, Arioch, an elf of immense power and equally immense depravity, revels in carnage. Her laughter, a chilling symphony of madness, rings out across the battlefield where innocent children become the horrific sustenance that fuels her