Prologue:

“Brianna, time for bed,” Brianna’s mother called.

“One minute mother,” Brianna retorted.

It was Brianna’s 9^th birthday and her mother, Alice, had a new story for her.

“Ok, Mother, I’m ready,” she said.

“Alright,” she said, closing the door. “Have you ever heard the story about how the Mad Hatter lost his head?”

“No mother, what happened?” Brianna asked curiously.

“Oh, you’ll find out dear,” she whispered. “You’ll find out.”

In the land of Wonderland, there lived a Hatter. He went by the Mad Hatter. He worked tirelessly making one hat after another, until one day he realized his hands were tiring. “What is wrong with me?” he asked. “This is not meant to happen,” he whispered.

As the Hatter continued his work his abilities lessened so much that his normal 10 hats a day turned into three hats a day. Little did he know his problems were far worse.

It was a Tuesday when the Hatter noticed his left hand was not opening and his right hand was stiff. His hat making went from little to nothing. That afternoon at his tea party, Mouse noticed that the Hatter was upset.

“Hatter, are you ok?” Mouse said.

“No Mouse, my hands are dying,” Hatter complained.

“Hatter, doesn’t that concern you?” Mouse gasped.

“Yes, but hat making is all I know,” Hatter screamed.

“Yes, I know,” Mouse said before cowering.

“What, we’re all mad here, accept my presence,” Hatter screamed, jumping from the table.

“Be gone, my friends, and don’t come back,” Hatter whispered before walking away. As Hatter returned to his workshop he wondered why his hands were giving out and why he was so hard on Mouse and Rabbit.

“Maybe I’m no longer, maybe I’m insane,” Hatter wondered aloud.

His hands were now tingling and shaking. He didn’t understand their malfunction. As Hatter entered his house his hands started clenching. He tried to relax them but they wouldn’t stop. After he ate his dinner, he noticed his hands were freezing cold.

“What is wrong with me?” he cried.

Putting his hands in his pockets he felt them shaking, would his hands stop?

As the Hatter was working on his one and only hat of the day he noticed a drop of blood on the floor.

“That’s odd,” he said. “I’ve never pricked myself.”

He breathed confused.

Putting his half-finished hat down he looked at his fingers; not only was one bleeding but all of them were bleeding. In the pricks were metal points.

“What’s wrong with my hands?” Hatter cried. As he said this his hands stretched, his hands ripping apart band blood squirting everywhere.

“Ahh!” he screamed, not understanding what was happening.

As his hands ripped off their wrists he noticed they were not bone but metal claws.

“What? Why is this happening?” he thought. Hatter scrambled to wrap his wrists but realized he couldn’t grab anything. “Rabbit!” he yelled, but realized he sent them away.

Hatter being very confused and upset ran through his workshop searching for his hands, but in their wake he found all his hats destroyed. Deciding to ignore his frustration he continued his urgent search. Rounding corners and jumping over ruins he gave chase to his hands. Having cornered them he noticed they were no longer covered in skin, but only metal.

“What in the world?” Hatter gasped still trying to catch his breath. The rogue hands clenched and spasmed, their will dying with no living host to drain from. Hatter approached the pieces of metal and held them in his arms to walk back to his workroom. As he set them down they cut off his long hair, leaving him with a ball of fire atop his head. Deciding to ignore that his hair was gone he grabbed his supplies by pushing them and grasping them in his teeth. Setting up his tools he manipulated the hands to sew each other back on, and tying the strings tight he felt his hands coming back to life. “Yes, you are mine,” Hatter whispered, feeling and odd sense of power.

“Hatter are you okay?” Mouse asked, Rabbit not far behind.

“Oh, yes!” Hatter muttered off in a daze.

“Hatter!” Rabbit screamed. “What happened to your hands?” he asked confused.

“They learned…” he muttered.

“What?” Mouse whispered, scared.

“Nothing Mouse,” Hatter retorted. “We’re all mad here.”

THE END