She seems to walk straight out of legend; some childhood fable or half-remembered dream. Looking for all the world like an innocent girl, but we know better. Don't we? She moves and talks and acts just like a real girl... So why does she make us so nervous? Who is she that she walks these ruined halls without concern for the monsters kept imprisoned by the meanest of locks?
Alice.
That's a nice name for a nice girl. It'll make a nice lie. Eleven, or maybe twelve, slim and small with neat blonde hair, fine as corn silk, put back with a ribbon. A lace of yellow bangs to frame her pretty face. A nice dress with puffy sleeves and laced hem, white on blue (are you getting the picture?). Fine white shoes with shiny black buckles, not too big, and stocking legs.
Yes, a pretty girl, a fine heroine, but what else? A doctor's medical bag that recalls the haunted echoing cobblestones of some faraway 18th century metropolis where the walls lean too close to the road. Black and big and heavy, but she carries it effortlessly, with great familiarity.
Here are our heroes: Alice and the Boogey Man. What's their story? Monsters, of course.
And a boy.
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