It’s not her voice anymore. not the quiet, hesitant Alice you know — not the soft edges, not the tremble. This one is low and rough, curling in the air like smoke, a rasp that scrapes against your ears. There’s something sharp in it, something that doesn’t belong to her at all.

“Oh? you want her let go?” the voice scoffs, the sound almost breaking into a laugh — cruel, humorless. “No… I don’t think so.” A pause, long enough for the words to sink in. “I need her. Her body. Her soul. Her mind.” Each word drips like oil, slow and deliberate, and then it growls, low and final,

“I’ll control her for as long as I like.”