TO Rewrite: B4 — 19. Reflections in Blood and Madness (Patreon)

1. Rachel (Our Hare MC!)

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Thirty-four hours remaining.

The acidic rain hissed against Scarlet's blood shield above Rachel, each drop a promise of slow dissolution. Rachel watched the corruption spread through the forest floor as bark blistered, leaves curled into ash, and the ground itself seemed to blacken from Regina’s touch.

“Alright,” Scarlet breathed, crimson eyes penetrating the thicket through the downpour. “I can’t see to the edge of the forest. It’s too long, so we’ll have to make a few jumps to get ahead of the storm.” Her blood coiled tighter around them. “Everyone ready? You all know how this feels.”

Adoncia’s jaw tightened, but she nodded. Nia groaned. “I can even feel it when I’m inside the Major’s soul… Wait, does that mean Nike and the pups feel it, too?”

“Probably,” Rachel sighed, jabbing both hands in her pockets, leaving out her thumbs. “We should expect dirty tricks. Don’t be flustered, Scarlet. Their priority isn’t us, it’s extracting whatever they need from Butter. We’re just annoying flies. Let’s keep it that way.”

“Right…”

Wakalapi sucked on his pipe silently, listening to his inner spirit as Adoncia tightened her hands at her front. The crimson circled in, reality compressing into viscous darkness. Then came the hands, the sensation of having every cell brushed against, carrying them into the Red Sea.

It pressed through fabric, Nia quivering beside her as Rachel stared into the abyss, ears flattening against her skull when all sound died. And in a pulse rippled through her like an echo—Cerridwen and the Black Moon bleeding through cracks.

Something nearby resonated with that, twisting her gut as the goddess’ whispers caressed her mind:

“Bring me your soul,

“Bring me your fear,

“In my name, you will create;

“Bring me your hate,

“Bring me your pain,

“In my name, you will destroy;

“I am that nightmare which you cannot face,

“Hope, your road to ruin;

“I am your undoing…”

They emerged gasping at the forest’s edge, and Rachel’s smile grew.

“What…just happened?” Scarlet mumbled as the castle loomed ahead, black spires clawing upward through the storm. “I didn’t take us here?” She spun, blood whipping around them in agitated spirals. “No. No, I felt us move within the Sea. I saw—we traveled two miles! How…can it bypass the Red Sea?”

Rachel’s ears swiveled, and Adoncia summoned her club, on the lookout for danger as Nia pressed closer. “Major…”

“I know,” she whispered in return, watching Wakalapi’s smoke curl around them. Misfortune swirling with the familiar scent of hysteria. Not exactly horror. No, something worse. “The Fable Realm is unstable…and something just invaded it through your Red Sea, Scarlet. Something similar to the Black Moon.”

The Native American’s deep voice rumbled with an unusual note of discontent from the tall man. “There is a great secret that has used White’s unstable realm to escape. I fear we were pulled into the tide, Scarlet. There is a singularity in that castle now. A being of immense power.”

Nia folded down her ears with both hands, groaning. “Give me a break. Does that mean we have a new enemy? Someone even more powerful than the Queen?”

Thumbs tapping the outside of her jeans, Rachel chuckled softly as lightning flashed overhead, rumbles shaking the blackening earth.

“No… This is just a welcome coincidence. A divine beacon like Butter, mixed with a fractured realm in flux, with the addition of Scarlet opening the Red Sea within the chaos…invited mania. It has no quarrel with those who do not seek to control its insanity.”

A stillness fell upon them in the toxic squall, the same pattern of decay spreading from where they’d first arrived. Inside her soul, she heard her Black Bun giggle, whispering her dark prophecies:

“The Red Queen has found her freedom. Those who oppose her: the road leads to ruin, carried by delusion and scars. For she is the keeper of secrets and undoing within the Crimson Court. Puppets learn to pull strings. She has ascended her throne within a World of Madness.”

Everyone turned their gaze to her, Scarlet growling, “This feels like Fate again… Every action leads to the same place.”

“Not exactly,” Rachel mused, stepping to the blood veil’s edge to stare above at the desperate towers of Snow Castle. “Regina has turned this land into a wasteland of cold erosion. Yet the tides have turned, and the game is shifting. Look…”

A chill swept through their bones, and the thundering rain slowed to a gentle, silent snowfall of blackened ash. “A field of darkened blood and snow in the ashes of the end. Regina’s whole self-image is shaken, and with it, she’s corrupting Snow… As Snow’s confidence wanes, so too does her realm lose its light. Yet, still, she carries on above the fields of winter’s creeping pain. I don’t think we’ll be able to leave, Scarlet.”

“What does that mean?” Adoncia pressed, fingers tightening on her club. “We skip the heroes of this world and just run in blind? Because I like that plan, actually.”

Nia’s frightened voice spoke to her internally. “What does she mean by Red Queen, Major? That doesn’t sound like Ragina or Snow…”

No. No, it doesn’t, Rachel breathed in deeply and let it out, vision falling to the drawbridge fell on its own, and the gate opened with creaking gears, inviting guests. Because a new queen has invaded this world. One even Regina, with all her power, can’t contend with… But this queen is only passing through.”

Scarlet snarled as she opened another portal, holding her hand against it. “You’re right, Wakalapi, it just…warps back here. I push us through the Red Sea, but there’s some huge gravitational force drawing us back to this area. The whole realm is—it’s a trap! We’re stuck in some kind of—”

“Loop,” Wakalapi finished, exhaling sacred smoke that writhed in patterns too complex for chance. His amber eyes glowed softly. “Old Man Coyote says there is only forward until that singularity leaves…or is dealt with, which He does not recommend.”

Rachel stretched her arms overhead, joints popping in a way that felt oddly satisfying. Her tail swished once, twice, settling into calm. “When the currents carry you, all you can do is let the lifeless waves drift you to shore… Sometimes, the best choice is to give in to the maddening tide.”

Scarlet gave her a dull glare. “Easy for you to say, Ms. Black Hare of the Apocalypse. Some of us don’t have a nice, darker half to let out every once in a while. Mine wants to consume all of the Red Sea, which is, you know…everything there is.”

Rachel leaned over to nudge her shoulder with a wink. “I think we’ve made progress, so don’t be too negative, Scarlet. I get the feeling this is in our best interest. So, why don’t we do something crazy?”

Nia trembled, pressing close to Rachel’s leg. “I hate your kind of crazy, Major, and I’m your flipping outfit, so…I’m kind of locked in. Uh…but what is going on with Snow? Will she be okay?”

Rachel studied the castle, hands sliding into her shorts pockets. The sky above had gone from slate-gray to something darker—not black, but absent. Like the concept of light itself was being drained away.

“…It’s no longer about Snow. Regina has taken control of her perception of reality, which is how she’s controlling this realm. And Regina has lost her sense of light,” Rachel murmured. “The queen who wanted beauty, youth, eternal life…”

Her eclipse gaze drifted to Adoncia. “She’s seen our conversation with the princess of Alibaba’s tale. I’m sure of it. She knows the price of becoming a true soul and interacting with the Crimson Tide… She knows what it costs and the false promises made.”

Rachel's smile was sad. “She doesn’t want to lose her power. She doesn’t want to lose Snow White. She doesn’t want to die. But she also can’t stop seeking to live—can’t stop seeking to exist outside of this empty state where she feels alive even though she isn’t. That’s the worst part, isn’t it? Even if she’s not real, she has the drive to live as if she is—feeling real when you know you’re not is a cruel reality.”

Scarlet’s fingers curled into a fist. “And…my mother created this whole project. Dammit, Mom. All those years, I just thought you were role-playing fantasy nerds…you were shaping the entire world.”

The words hung in the poisoned air.

“Her heart bleeding white,” Rachel continued, looking up at the lightless sky with its drifting black tear flakes. “It’s not about defeating her. It’s about helping her find hope again. Light. The ability to believe in something beyond survival… To take responsibility.”

Scarlet’s expression shifted from frustration to horror. “That’s…Rachel, that’s impossible. She’s a Fable villain! How are we supposed to—”

“We’re not.” Rachel’s tone was matter-of-fact. She glanced at Adoncia with a small smile as the oni maid listened carefully. “The power needed to save this realm? Only the Eldritch have that power. Our goal isn’t to rescue this realm but save Butter, regain our Seeds, and bring Snow back. The rest…”

She shrugged. “Well, misfortune has a way of solving problems I never intended to tackle. Madness works in fascinating ways. Sometimes I can be an avenging angel…and just like Alibaba’s realm, sometimes dreams just…end. Is there hope in the space between realities, where it fell? Well, that’s not for me to decide. We can’t save everyone.”

Scarlet’s fangs showed with her tight jaw, her innocent heart taking on the responsibilities of her mother’s actions. None of that would help, so Rachel just moved on.

“Also, this new guest,” she mumbled, staring at the front gate, “ I think this singularity has some connection to the Crimson Tide.”

Scarlet shivered, hugging herself as her blood quivered like a pool disturbed. “You mean Black Hat? He’s going to return?”

“No. No.” Rachel chuckled softly. “That’s one seed of the corruption that was in Alibaba’s realm. This seed would be different. It has its own ends. Its own mission. Its own form.”

Her ears lifted, her head tilting to the side as she pondered the infinite and vast, reflecting on her time channeling the Black Moon. “Honestly, I think this Red Queen obtains her powers from the Crimson Tide. That…is terrifying. Truly. But she is not aligned with them. I cannot feel the same beast crawling through her madness. It’s a feeling… She’s a rogue vessel. The impossible.”

Wakalapi puffed thoughtfully on his pipe. “You’re saying beneath all of that that Regina will separate us with her magic when we enter to trap each of us in our own nightmare?”

“Sort of, yeah.” Rachel started walking toward the castle, the acidic rain hissing against Scarlet’s protective blood shield as they hurried after her. “I’m counting on it. In fact, let’s just get ahead of it now. Regina’s playing a game she thinks she controls. But she’s scared—of us, of herself, of what comes next… Especially this new invader. Scared people make mistakes.”

“And the others?” Adoncia asked. “The heroes who opposed her? Could they be imprisoned already? To me, they’d keep their prisoners in the prison. It’s only logical. We could find and free them on the way to help us.”

“Sure. Go for it.” Rachel chuckled. “I think it’s best when we each can act how we want. That includes you, Scarlet…” she noted, glancing at the suddenly nervous bat girl. “Do what you think is right. Regina needs souls, I think, for her experiments. It makes logical sense. She’d want to try to find a solution by fusing real souls with Fable entities.”

Her grin widened as her shoes crunched with each step on the black powder.

“And Snow White herself? It’s only a guess, but considering the state of this realm? She’ll be brainwashed, defending her queen with every fiber of her being. Meanwhile, Adelaide’s busy plotting to betray Frank to move Butter elsewhere, I have no doubt. Our blond gentleman is busy being a mysterious scientist with his own divine agenda, and his Frankenstein family will be running interference for him. We’re entering a castle of loose alliances that are running their course. That’s in our favor.”

They reached the courtyard as she spoke—a massive space of cracked stone and withered gardens, fountains running black with corruption. The castle rose before them, imposing and wrong in ways that had nothing to do with architecture. The veil rested over the structure like the last kiss for a burned man, welcoming in the lost children of the outlands.

“Split up,” Rachel said without looking back, entering the fresh snow for the dark years, graced by a queen’s heavy heart—the spilled blood on her charred hands. “Look for Butter and Snow in your own way. I’ll take the front… I think someone is waiting for me.”

“Rachel…” Scarlet groaned, making Nia hesitate beside Rachel, but the vampiric girl quickly recovered. “No. I can do this… Look into the—of course, the walls are magically blocked, because why wouldn’t they be? Stupid…”

Rachel’s smile was all teeth as she left the girl to discover a light above the darkness, or reconcile with the cold reality of their world. This castle held the dying dream of a last queen, born within a land forsaken long before its inception.

Nia bounced nervously. “Um, Major? Is this…smart? That crazy singularity thing is like…right in front of us! And we can’t use our Seeds!”

One must not waver in the face of death, faced down with the unknown, Nia. There is a dream left to cling to. The question is, whose dream?

Her little bun’s pout came on, ears falling back and arms crossing. “I hate when you get all cryptic on me. I’m supposed to be in your head—your soul! Why can’t I figure it out?”

Rachel reached over to rub her hair as the corrupting snow fell around them, her bun’s protective outfit keeping her safe.

You’re doing great, Nia… I’ve been through so much over the past few months that I can’t help but think about things like this. I sent them away…because I don’t think they’d fair well with where we’re going.

“Spooky!”

No. You just need to be your cheery, little spoiled self. If you want to hide inside me or shout at someone, you do what you want to do. I like you just the way you are.

“Oh! Well, okay. I’m scared, though!”

Want to hide behind me?

“Mhm!”

Okay… Just hold strong, little bun. It won’t be as long as you think. This house of cards was falling long before we were brought into this whirlpool. Let’s meet the Red Queen, our ominous Black Bun mentioned.

The front doors opened without resistance. That should have been the first warning. What graced her when she entered was not the royal architecture or supernatural corruption, but the silence of the Eldritch madness…and corpses. Hundreds of corpses.

Stacked, scattered, arranged in grotesque patterns across black-and-white checkered marble. Blood pooled in the grout lines, creating a grid of crimson rivers. The stench should have been overwhelming, but instead, there was only the cloying sweetness of roses and something sharper—madness, if madness had a scent, which, to Rachel, it did, and in many flavors.

In the center of the carnage sat a lone chair, and in the chair sat a girl.

Sixteen, maybe. Pale skin, dark hair cascading over a crimson dress so saturated with blood it seemed to writhe. A top hat perched at a jaunty angle on her head. Beside the chair rested a sword as tall as she was, its blade wreathed in flames that wept blood—actual tears of crimson that hissed and steamed when they struck the marble.

She was sipping tea, watching the door as if waiting for an expected guest.

The porcelain cup looked pristine despite everything around her. [Seventh Sense] screamed contradictions that mirrored Black Hat, only in a far more manic design, which was impressive to say the least. The girl radiated power—immense, reality-warping, absolutely devastating power. But no threat of misfortune strung around Rachel’s throat. Instead, it’s as if that bleeding sword cleared threats away from her, but not consciously. They shared something fundamental in their cores that benefited them both.

Madness.

A calm, controlled, impossibly deep madness that made Rachel’s own misfortune feel like a gentle breeze. Well, not when channeling the Black Moon, in fact, they’d probably get along great then, but that was despite the point.

The girl looked up and smiled.

“Oh, wonderful!” Her voice was cheerful, bright, utterly at odds with the slaughter surrounding her. “A guest! Please, please, sit! I was just about to pour another cup. You are not the one I hoped would grace me with their presence, but you will more than do for company. It’s been so long since I had anyone but those in my own head to enjoy a conversation with!”

Rachel’s gaze took her in properly then. The checkered pattern stitched into the hem of the girl’s crimson dress wasn’t decorative—it followed a warped chessboard symmetry, crimson and white squares subtly misaligned as if the rules had shifted mid-game.

A ribbon cinched her waist like a parody of an apron tie, the fabric too pristine for a room soaked in blood. Lace-trimmed gloves covered her hands despite the heat of the weeping blade beside her, and a stuffed rabbit—one ear torn, glass eye cracked—rested in her lap as though it had always belonged there.

The tea set was mismatched porcelain, each cup bearing a different floral motif of playing cards, as if taken from different sets, none of them repeating, none of them broken.

Timepieces lay scattered at her feet—pocket watches, cracked clocks, stopped all at different hours. Even the top hat wasn’t random: it was too small, perched incorrectly, worn not as fashion but as stubborn insistence.

Nothing here was chaotic. It was curated absurdity. Ritualized nonsense. The kind of madness that remembers rules long after it stopped believing in them.

Rachel felt understanding bloom—not through threat, not through power, but through aesthetic certainty. These weren’t affectations. They were signifiers. This wasn’t a persona assembled for intimidation. It was a fable wearing its own remains.

She smiled, slow and genuine.

“The Fable of Alice in Wonderland,” she said lightly. “What an unexpected and pleasant surprise. Now, what’s the story behind how you got here?”

The girl giggled and set her cup down in empty air, where a teapot sat, before she stroked her rabbit, her bright, innocent blue eyes drifting to Nia, hiding behind her.

“A tale I normally love to tell, though I think that isn’t really what you’re interested in. Pleasantries are pleasantries, though!”

She gestured to a second chair that hadn’t existed a moment ago, her smile growing more sinister as she whispered, “A long way down to the place I found, a lurking silhouette waiting below; a dark sun, hollowed by the fade—that debt you live to repay; you see the blackness stare, promising to spare the chosen. Know the dark…but let it rest.”

Rachel’s blood turned cold even as she moved forward to take the seat. “The Scarlet Hand’s chant… Let me guess, you’re one of their secret experiments that they tried to seal away. Now, you’re free.”

Nia clung to her side as both their ears tracked every sound—the drip of blood, the crackle of flame, and the faint whisper of the girl’s breathing.

“You’re too clever for your own good. I love it! Oh, you’ll have to forgive the mess,” the girl clapped, offering the most honest smile a girl could give. “The hosts here were terribly rude. Refused tea time, can you imagine? I mean, honestly, what kind of establishment—”

“P-Please…”

A cry beside the girl’s chair prickled the hair on the back of Rachel’s neck. Alice simply reached down and plucked a severed head from the pile beside her chair. The head gasped, eyes rolling, mouth working in weeping terror and confusion, babbling whispers to the Red Queen.

“Shhh.” The girl’s voice was gentle, almost motherly. “She can’t hurt you anymore, darling. None of them can. I put them all away. They can be so…barbaric when people are rude to me. I really must teach them manners… But how can one expect manners when none are offered in return? Oh, the paradox!”

 She smiled down at the head as if it were a crying child. “You’re scaring the little bunny. As the host, one must be conscious of one’s guests. Perhaps you should take some lessons from the Hatter. He’s been so lonely after the…incident.”

She dropped it, making Nia squeak.

The head hit the marble and sank—not fell, sank—like the floor had turned to blood. The body parts around the chair and around the entire entrance hall followed, sliding downward without a sound, pulled into her Fable realm.

Within seconds, the carnage was gone.

Only the bloodstains remained, but Rachel knew those deceptively innocent eyes hid a swirling, maddening abyss. The surface was structured, layer upon layer of civility that could be stripped away at the drop of a top hat.

Rachel's tail bristled. “If you’re Alice in Wonderland, does that mean your Fable Realm is you? Or rather…your own mind? The joys…the horrors, all depending on which side of your mind and mood painting your internal skies?”

The girl clapped again with delight. “Oh, you are a treat! I knew I liked you when I felt those ominous strings of Eldritch pulses resonating within your soul. It’s why you sent them away.” She leaned forward conspiratorially. “When dealing with the insane, it’s best to be insane yourself, don’t you think? Otherwise, how would we ever understand each other? Oh, not that we’re insane! No. No. It’s the world that’s insane. We’re the most sane. Yes. The most sane.”

She straightened, gesturing toward the hallway beyond. “I won't stop you. I’d like to have tea time, though…I seem to be out of tea. Now, how did that happen?” she inquired, scratching the side of her head before opening her pot to look inside.

“What a shame. I must have given all of it to those severed heads. The Queen of Hearts can be very brutish when I let her out…and indulgent. Hmm. Such is the way of royalty,” she sighed, putting it away with a wave of her hand.

“In any case, I’m just passing through, really. This realm was so unstable—wonderful for slipping between cracks when little rifts are opened! Though I do wish I could thank whoever gave me that little push. Alas.” She sighed dramatically. “If you see a handsome blond man, give him my best? Quite mysterious! And handsome,” she mused, fantasy spinning as she looked off to the side. “Hmm.”

Nia whimpered, pressing against Rachel’s leg. “Major, did Frank free her?! Why would Frank free her? Did—oh, oh! W-What if he used Butter’s power to do it! Is that the goal?! This is crazy!”

Careful. We walk a fine line with this madness, Nia. This is Alice at her most stable. If you draw attention to yourself…

Alice’s gaze dropped to the rabbit girl. Her eyes—bright, lucid, and untroubled by doubt—softened. “Oh! Oh, when did you get here, you little sweetheart? How precious! I love little rabbits. I had a rabbit friend myself once, though he keeps disappearing on me…” She frowned, genuinely puzzled. “Where did he go? He always has some appointment to get to. I can get…a little jealous sometimes.”

Before Rachel could stop her, Alice was up, circling them, but that massive flaming sword had vanished. It was replaced by a shiny, blood-covered butcher’s blade that casually flipped around her fingers, flickering between dimensional lines as if cutting the fabric of space.

“Hmm. Lost hearts…in the dead of night. So many lovely faces inside those beautiful, crystal eyes… Anyway!” She stopped in front of Rachel, dropping her knife into her empty-looking front apron stash to replace it with a pocket watch from nowhere.

“Oh, goodness, look at the time! I’m going to be late, late for a very important date!” She giggled, the sound like breaking glass. “Mama and Papa wouldn’t approve, but, well…they’re dead. I’ve got to run!”

She somehow pulled a small vial out of her sleeve and pressed it into Rachel’s hand with a tiny wink. The liquid inside shifted colors, never quite settling on one.

“For you, clever bunny. Big things become small, small things hide big packages. That’s the secret, you know. The secret to everything. That which is small is big. That which is big is actually…quite insignificant. Do be careful while I’m away—places have a habit of changing on us…even if they’re in our own minds. Our little horror story has only just begun.”

Then she was moving, skipping toward the entrance, her dress shedding blood with every step. The crimson trail turned to rose petals that seeped onto the marble, leaving her dress pure and white and blue again—Alice, the storybook girl, innocent and bright.

“Maybe we’ll meet again, my lovelies!” she called back, voice fading. “Wouldn’t that be mad?”

And she was gone.

The silence that followed felt heavier than the one before.

Nia’s voice was very small. “Major…what was that?”

Rachel studied the vial in her hand, then the hallway ahead, knowing Regina was likely watching through her mirror, and very carefully. The bloodstains on the floor. The throne room waited beyond.

“My guess is that a monster was just released, and a little horror story has just begun for someone. But, for us, it’s just another random event,” she said quietly. “Though random events tend to not be so random, in our experience.” She tucked the vial away. “Perhaps we’re looking in a mirror. A warning to help us see ourselves clearer.”

“What are you talking about?”

Rachel smiled, shaking her head. “Nothing you need to be worried about… Just me fighting with ghosts.” She started forward, ears alert, [Seventh Sense] mapping the castle’s twisted geometry, but all that met her was silence…the battle portion had already left in a top hat. “Well, little bun. Let’s meet a queen.”

Thirty-three hours remaining.

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