Heartland

Alice pouted as she fell on her bed.

"I'm bored!" She whined, flailing her arms and started ripping the pillow.

The March Hare looked at the Prince who shrugged, for help.

That was until the March Hare knelt down and held out his arms and tried to 'serenade' Alice.

Alice looked at him for some seconds or so then found ripping the pillows more interesting than March Hare.

The March Hare gasped, "My voice is like an angel singing!"

Alice snorted, "I think you meant, like a pig farting."

The March Hare gasped again then looked at the Prince for help who just shrugged once more.

"I'm sorry, March Hare, but it is true."

"Traitor!" He said as he pointed an accusing finger at him.

Then he went over to a corner and started to sulk.

The Prince chuckled then Alice said, "I want to go to your room."

The Prince smirked and grabbed Alice's hands.

Until they stopped in front of a much more larger door than hers.

The walls were full of knives, swords, and spears of all shapes and sizes.

Then Alice slowly went over to his knives and got one of them.

Its handle was made of gold and It had peculiar carvings carved on it.

Its blade was shiny and sharp. She traced a finger on its sleek figure when suddenly, her finger bled.

She watched as blood came out of her wound then lifted it to her mouth.

Until the Prince grabbed her hand and licked the blood of the finger.

Alice frowned when she felt a cold knife pressed to her neck.

The Prince smirked as he felt the sharp tip of the knife pressed to his stomach.

"Why is your room full of knives?" she asked.

Then he smirked again and whispered to her ear, his hot breath tickling her skin, "They don't call me 'Prince the Ripper' for nothing, love."