That night, something was different. It did not make you uneasy so much as curious. It was as though the answer was on the very tip of your tongue but you could not grasp it. The air felt different. There was a chill in the air that was not unusual for the season except unlike the other nights, it made the little hairs on the back of your neck stand on end in some freakish anticipation.

The solid surface of your shoes clicked against the pavement of the empty street, creating a dark melody against the cacophony of the sounds of evening. Normally you would be hesitant to be in the part of town where the streets seemed empty, after all, dealing with seedy men with dubious intentions seemed to come with the terrority. Not tonight. Tonight, it seemed as though you could not control where your feet led you and even if you had a conscious objection as to where you were going, you were unsure if you had the power to stop yourself.

Almost as if by magnetic attraction, you felt pulled into an alleyway that you would in no way have approached under normal circumstances. There was nothing particularly seedy about the alleyway you were led to, it was just simply a fact that there was no reason for you as a young woman to explore such a place in the depths of night. At the end of the poorly illuminated alleyway you vaguely heard a tune that you first dismissed as the breeze until your ears attempted to tune into the almost eery yet flawless music. Someone was playing a piano - that much you knew. The dark clang of each key on the magnificent instrument lulled you as though you were under a spell; the sheer intensity of each note coaxing you further and further into the darkness.

The music led you to a nondescript door that in any other situation would have set off alarm bells in your mind. Not tonight. Tonight, the lack of signage present anywhere or the fact that it almost seemed abandoned only served to fan the flames of your accursed curiosity. You were half surprised when you opened the heavy steel door without any resistance. It led you to a staircase, tiled with white glass tiles. Said tiles were so pristine you almost felt guilty about the idea that you might scuff them with your shoes.

Click clack. Click clack.

The surface of your shoes clicked rhythmically in time with the piano as you descended the staircase with a foreboding feeling knotting in your stomach. It felt almost surreal, as though it were nothing more than elaborate dream but further and further you went. Was this how Alice felt? Was she so curious as to find where the White Rabbit would lead her yet nervous as to what she might find?

Your questioning mind and trance induced body paused at the sight before you. The room you entered was so white and alight with pure, bright light that your eyes momentarily hurt from the sheer contrast with the dark alleyway above. Wherever you were must have cost a pretty penny to build – you were sure you could identify the glass, marble and granite materials used. To your right, you saw two men working intensely at a pure, white marble table that looked as though it belonged in a mausoleum. There was a skull present on the table along with the very clear scientific equipment they were working with. They worked with liquids that ranged from the color of water to that of a fine rose wine to even a dubious shade of red. Behind them were trees framed by glass and roses in intravenous bags. It was then that you noticed how fragrant the space was.

Your eyes drifted to the fancy bar that only carried red liquids. At first you doubted your first guess, considering no bar ever just served one drink but your eyes fell on the man behind the bar area, pouring a drink into a crystal glass – no doubt for the man seated in the red bar stool in front of him. It was fascinating to watch until your eyes moved to the only man you had no idea you wanted to find until you did.

The man at the strikingly white piano. His dark, seductive melody had yet to stop and though you wondered if the red liquid that seemed to permeate every container in the space and the old fashioned electric light had anything to do with his playing, as soon as he played the next note, your mind would be filled with nothing else but his music. None of the handsome men dressed in white shirts, black suit pants and leather aprons seemed to notice your presence or rather, they seemed to be preoccupied with their work to do so.

Still, as though the spell had yet to lift, you walked toward the man at the piano as though by some invisible force.

Click clack. Click clack.

All you could hear was his piano and your heels reverberating against the glass tiles in some macabre collaboration. What would you do when you were near him? The answer never presented itself. All you knew was that you could not stop yourself from getting closer to him.

The notes of this intoxicating man’s song slowly died the nearer you came and as soon as you were close enough to make out the individual silver strands of his dyed hair, the room had fallen into silence.

His head turned and your breath caught. Strands of his silver hair fell out of its well styled place – no doubt due to his passionate playing. His eyes were brown and intense, his skin flawlessly pale, his nose elegantly shaped and his lips as red as the liquid in the jars on his piano. His appearance surpassed the word ‘handsome’ and you don’t think even the most talented manhwa artist could create a character more aesthetically pleasing than him.

The man now stood, and walked in slow circles around you. As if only hypnotizing you further, the expensive bottom of his leather shoes clacked rhythmically around you. He came closer and closer to you. At first you thought that it was simply your imagination. After all, how could a man like him find you, someone almost comically average, though usually that was hardly the case, interesting? Your cheeks flamed a vibrant red when you realized that he was…sniffing you? His slow, measured breaths tickled the delicate skin of your neck, causing a shiver to run through your body.

“Your perfume…what is it?” he asked and his voice sounded as though he were skillfully playing an instrument. Each syllable of his words brought another puff of air against your ear as though he were sharing a secret with you.

“N-nothing.” your answer stumbled inelegantly out of your mouth when you realized he was awaiting your answer. You were running late that morning and in doing so, forgot to spritz yourself with your perfume of choice. Was that a bad thing, you wondered? Did you smell bad? “Just the body lotion I use.” you added self-consciously.

He sauntered circles around you until he faced you once more. His dark eyes connected with yours but the look they carried were so inexplicably intense that you broke eye contact out of the sheer power of it. His gaze continued to scan your face.

“You smell divine.” he stated as though in a daze. His eyes fell to your neck as he brought an index finger toward the pulse point of your neck and traced it almost lovingly. After causing your cheeks to inflame even further and your body to shudder, you were surprised to notice how warm he was. Somehow you assumed he would be as cold as ice.

“Thank you…” you answered, your eyebrows furrowing in confusion. “It’s-”

“No, not that poor chemical compound that’s supposed to pass for a natural smell.” he adamantly denied as though he could divine the answer you were about to give him, almost affronted at the very thought. His eyes once again focused on your exposed skin. “I’m talking about your scent. I’ve never smelled anything like it. It’s delicious.” he carried on and although his comment should have set off various red flags, you only felt yourself strangely flattered at the way he seemed so…appreciative.

Your heart was hammering away at the attention and the nearness of him seemed to intoxicate you. He seemed to fill the tiny bubble the two of you encompassed and it caused your breathing to labor. The intensity of his words and how strange they were left you grasping for a reply like straws.

He clacked his way out of your vision but you sensed him standing close enough behind you that you felt the body heat radiating off his body. He maneuvered your hair slowly, to allow each strand to graze your shoulder and fall one by one down your back before leaning in to occupy the now empty and vulnerable space.

“Don’t leave the house without perfume again.” he cautioned and something about the underlying darkness served to make you uneasy. “Not everyone would stop at appreciating you like I did.” he said with a sound that sounded like it would be an ironic laugh – only he stopped short.

“Okay…” you agreed, completely entranced. Later you would wonder if you would have agreed to anything he would have said in that moment.

You were startled out of the intimate reverie the pair of you shared when you heard a glass clang against the solid marble. You turned to see the barman set down the bottle, before removing his apron and adding a jacket before leaving without so much as a goodbye to the people around him.

Was he upset? He sure looked that way. Was it something your companion said? Could he even hear you? You were so perplexed at the questions that flooded your mind. You were unable to believe at how taken in you were with the peculiar man.

You cleared your throat, thankful to once again have some control over your actions and thoughts.

“What is this place? What are you?” you asked curiously, your voice only adding to how out of place you felt.

The silver haired man once again sat on the polished oak bench of his piano, while facing you. His face betrayed amusement and the most severe fascination.

“We -”, he opened his arms to indicate the other four men, “are scientists.” his red lips pulled into a proud smirk.

“Scientists?” your head cocked in confusion. What they seemed to be busy with was so out of the ordinary that you would never have pinned them as scientists.

The smirk you received in return only grew before he indicated for the pink haired man still sitting at the bar to come over.

“A drink.” he said as though they did this type of thing often.

The handsome pink haired man strolled toward the two of you with a glass bottle in the shape of a skull. The first thing you noticed was that the liquid was blue not red.

“I made it.” the pink haired scientist stated; his deep voice rumbling. You found yourself at the tattoos that seemed to peek from beneath his crisp white shirt.

The two men shared a look and without further ado, you watched as your drink was poured from the bottle into a crystal whiskey glass, the colour changing from blue to red like magic.

Looking at your wide-eyed reaction in amusement, the men gesture for you to taste it. Upon drinking, it tasted like the finest of alcohols, smooth and rich in flavour. It was as the liquid went down your oesophagus that you slightly panicked about the burn that generally accompanied such strong liquor. But it did not come.

“Is it not amazing what science can do?” the silver man asked, his legs now crossed. The two of you on your own once more. “Alcohol, perfume – it’s all the same. All it requires is knowledge of its deconstructed elements.” he added, sounding almost bored.

You were much to dumbfounded to reply yet you were intrigued at the man in front of you and even, the men that littered the space – the latter still busily working at the marble table.

“You seem afraid.” he stated; his expression was relaxed as he said so and you got the feeling he was in part analysing you like an experiment.

“I’m not.” the words flew from your mouth without hesitation and your eyes widened in surprise at your reply.

“They say the first answer is truthful.” he answered, clearly flattered as though you had given him a compliment of sorts.

“And scientifically?” you asked, feeling brave.

The silver haired man’s brown eyes lit up at your question. “Scientifically…” he trailed off, his index finger tapped his red lips enticingly. “Scientifically, they say it is time for young women to go home.” He looked at you with laughing eyes. You suddenly wondered what his laugh sounded like.

“Oh.” you let out a puff of air, disappointed with the sudden path your conversation took. You vaguely looked at the watch on your wrist and noted it was three in the morning. How was it possible you were there for so long? It felt as though you had just arrived.

For the umpteenth time, the very curious scientist looked at you and this time, his amusement bubbled over into laughter. It was short but it was much like his voice – musical and contagious. Even you, in all your disappointment, were unable to keep even a lilt of a smile off of your face.

“Paths that have crossed once, always diverge again.” he replied with eyes that smiled. After allowing the pair of you to dwell in the warmth of the moment, he called the two scientists that for the duration of your unexpected visit, worked without pause. The two young men came over and looked at you with the same amount of curiosity that seemed to be a running theme aproned men that evening. “ her home.” your silver haired host stated.

“Uhm…thank you for the offer but I’m fine.” you denied the almost too kind offer, looking at your would be escorts with alarm.

“You’re alone, at night. I hardly think I need to explain all the unsuspecting things that could happen to you.” he insisted and his smug expression returned. “Your little trip here tonight only proves that.”

Knowing that he backed you into a proverbial corner, you sighed a sigh of defeat. You nodded your head and turned to go with the men who intended to see you home.

“Enjoy your trip back into the world Alice.” the scientist quipped and you turned to see him at his piano as if those hours had not passed.

You recognized the joke and chuckled as you climbed the glass steps. You liked the fact that he too seemed to notice the parallels of your situation.

You were led to the back of a building where you found a four-seater, vintage British racing green sports car. The youngest looking one opened the passenger door for you where you entered. He and the older blue haired man entered the back- and driving seat respectively.

The drive was peaceful and occasionally punctuated with conversation and directions to your home. You found it strange that you felt so secure with two people who were nothing more than strangers but even stranger was the fact that the darkened outside world felt so…vulnerable; unsafe even. The silver haired man’s warning glowed brighter in the back of your mind.

When you reached the entrance of your apartment block, you exited the car with a friendly greeting which you received in turn. Walking into that laboratory (?) earlier that evening, you never would have said that the pair were capable of such handsome smiles. It seemed that they waited until they were certain you were safely housed in your apartment and you were strangely touched.

Suddenly exhausted, you climbed into bed, forgoing changing into your sleep clothes and foggy thoughts you fell into unconscious.

That night, you dreamed of him for the first time. A man with dyed silver hair and expressive brown eyes was in a field of flowers that in comparison to him seemed dull. One by one, he picked the flowers with tenderness, a loving smile decorating his lips. He walked to the end of the field, to where you stood and with a kiss gave them to you. You were all too happy to receive them and when you looked to inspect the precious gift he had given you, you were horrified to find each delicate, vibrant petal dripping with blood.

You would later realize you did not know their names.