As the guests began to put on their masks, the man known as The White Rabbit, watched from a high window. He had rules for them to follow and he'd be damned before he'd let them disobey. They were his guests, anyway. He watched their eyes the most. From how far he was, it was difficult to see whether or not they looked at one another, but he was determined to know. After everybody got there, he glanced at what they dropped into the box. He took close note of everything and everyone.

The city behind the cold window was huge. Smoke gradually puffed and floated into the air, and was sucked up like a little hurrican by the giant zeppelin that circled the city. The aircraft was there to ensure clean air. It sucked up pollution and acted like a sifter to sort out the harmful gas.

Huge gears spun on the side of buildings, usually powering an average-sized house with enough energy for daily use. Smoke was filtered out with a small tube that led into the ground. It all fed into some special buildings that purified it and released it again. Sometimes, for the truely despicable criminals, the criminal would be thrown into a small room. They would then filter in all the harmful gas, thus killing him/her or making them sick enough to die.

Everybody knew that The White Rabbit had delt with these kinds of things, the death penalty. He studied how the chemicals work in the body and how exactly they kill somebody. Time was his favorite part. The longer and more sufferable, the better. He was also associated with the dark parts of the city, the assassins for hire and thieves. It's thought that he spends more money on them, than his business.

Tonight, however, was different. The keys were his primary goal, and he was determined to get them. He would spend any amount of money, or blood for that matter, to get hold of them. Nobody knew what the keys were for but him, and the whole city knew he was looking for them. It was just a matter of getting them into his own hands.

Wilhelm didn't like walking into this house. He knew the reputation of the Rabbit. Knew he enjoyed seeing people die. And knew that he wanted his key. Wilhelm had no idea what the key was for, but if the Rabbit wanted it, it must be important, and worth something. He looked at the other guests, he didn't recognise any of them, though that was the point of the masks he supposed. Still, he didn't think he would know any of them anyway. Still, he would make the effort to be friendly, and by the time he was ready, had a plan in mind to deal with the Rabbit.

"Hehehe, who knew this dumb old key would get me front row seat to a real party? This is it. This is it. Fun." Horvus thought. The Rabbit, you knew wherever he was; something special had captured his attention. Right now I have front row seat to something special.

Horvus rubbed his hands. He felt the rush of giddy anticipation building in his old bones. Even the slightest hint of danger didn't pass through his mind. His attention was entirely enraptured. He licked his lips in expectation. He didn't have the slightest care for the person to the left or right of him.

What was the Rabbit thinking? What is he going to do? Horvus' mind raced to answer the question like a little boy trying to guess Christmastime presents.

"I forgot to eat dinner," muttered Horvus stately.

Esther looked around the area of the White Rabbit's manor, she saw no one around the area. A painful sigh of relief rested its hand on her bare, boney shoulders. The steam was rising, and the mood was setting into a cloudy mess of confusion. Closing her black, lacy parasol, Esther turned the intricately sewn décor into a cane; she leaned it against the wall by the door, noticing the note.

Carefully, a thin, pale hand placed itself into the front pocket of her black, corset. A knife was removed. It was worn and obviously much used. A childhood heirloom with many memories she kept close to heart. However, tonight would be different. Tonight would be very different.

After putting the knife into the box, she picked up a face mask: The "Fickle Robin" mask. It fit uncomfortably well over Esther's fragile face. Her dark eyes peered through the mask as she carefully crept her long fingers over the doorknob, opening the door as quietly as possible. Her eyes adverted at the other two guests. A reluctance to socialize stabbed her in the chest; her heart raced. The onset of panic had begun. Her eyes darted at the ground as she quickly closed the door behind her.

She quickly ushered herself into a shadowy area of the entrance; her fingers slowly crept toward each other tightly. She felt for the black fingernail polish she had carefully adorned over her nails just the other evening. The smoothness seemed soothing, and the mood, adjacent to her attack, curiosity, became more apparent in her mind--like a child playing with fire.

Allowing the blooming curiosity to blossom in her mind, she took several small steps closer to the walls. Curiosity killed the cat. But what killed the rabbit? Her front teeth gently nibbled her bottom lip, rubbing the lightly painted skin slowly back-and-forth for some sort of unnerving comfort. She knew about the White Rabbit, and could sense the uncanny tingles of someone watching over all of them. Removing her eyes from the floor, she looked around the entrance, staring at the adornment and fixtures.

She would not mind being a wall flower for the night. A delicate approval of the decorations cuddled inside of her. Perhaps, she could escape without any conversation tonight. She was simply a pale fire flickering in the darkness of the situation, and any small breeze could persuade her into another state of panic--a risk she was not quite ready to fulfill.

Kip had heard of the White Rabbit. Many of his patrons were the victims of his cruel executions. Regulars who had been coming to the bar for years would suddenly disappear without a word and within the week they would appear in a small corner of the papers, listing out their name, crime and sentence. The White Rabbit was not a liked man where Kip was from, but the promise of coin made the Rabbit's offer too great for Kip to resist. When Kip left, he had taken a long route through countless alleyways and back doors to make sure he wouldn't be tailed. If anyone knew where he was, well, it's best not to think about it.

Kip looked down on the box and read the note. Empty your pockets and put all objects inside the box. The only things you may bring inside is your key. Damn. Reluctantly, Kip took off the pouch on his belt and placed it at the bottom of the box, underneath some of the masks and belongings already inside. Then he took a mask out. A hooded face. He didn't care much for the name, but he preferred not to be known.

As Kip opened the door, he looked over his shoulder one last time. Nervous, he stepped into the mansion and closed the door behind him. In his waistcoat pocket was the ten dollar coin. He was risking a lot coming here. This had better be worth it.

Emery watched as the back of a hooded figure entered the wide arched doorway of the manor. The White Rabbit had seemed to plan out each party goer's arrival impeccably. She took her steps forward and reached the box. She glanced over the note and sighed. She didn't have anything with her, of course. And if she did, it was likely should would just keep it on her despite the note. It's not like the Rabbit would search her anyway. At least she didn't think he would. She only knew what she had read about him and he didn't seem the type to waste time. That means he was likely to let little details slip. It didn't matter, either way, though. She had nothing but the clothes on her back and the key. What could possibly be so special about this key? She had won the bracelet in a card game she had played years ago. She was desperate for food and had always had a knack for mental games. She knew that card games were more about playing your opponent than playing what was in your hand so she took a chance, lied about her age, and cleaned house. The bracelet had been part of her bounty. Initially she was going to barter or sell it but when it came down to it, she just couldn't bring herself to part with it. She had been wearing it ever since.

She glanced over at the masks and selected a simple black mask. It wouldn't do much to hide the fact that she was a woman or the general layout of her face, but it was still enough to confuse anyone who might try to identify her. That was enough for her. She slipped the mask on her face, impressed by how well it fit to her features. She stepped in through the door, ready to do whatever it took to win this game.

As the guests started to enter his home, The Rabbit stopped in a small room. The dark oak door made a quiet squeeking sound when he pushed it open. Inside, there were multiple cases and shelves littered with different antiques. Some of them looked ancient, and others looked fairly new. There was also a medium sized table topped with a big, old looking machine. There was a megaphone on top, and it pointed into a speaker. On one side, there was a crank, and the other, there was a gear.

The Rabbit strode over to the machine, his coat tail swishing behind him. He grabbed the crank, spun it for about a minute, and bent over the machine to speak.

"Good evening," his smooth voice boomed throughout the mansion. "I'm glad that you've decided to come. I've waited for this moment a long time. Feel free to make yourself at home, and get to know your fellow guests! I'm sure you'll want to meet them, you're all such interesting people. I shall be down in a while, but this is a party, don't let me keep you waiting. My dining room is the last room in the hall, across from the room that you're in now. I've laid out some party things that I'm sure you'll enjoy."

The speaker turned off with a crack, and The Rabbit left the room swiftly. He was glad that they had showed up. Every key counted.

---

The main room was decorated with old tapestries and decorative vases. There were a few bookshelves and tables in each corner. In the center of the room, there was a large marble staircase that led to a hallway, the one that The Rabbit had mentioned.

The hallway was lined with red and white striped wallpaper, and the marble from the staircase continued down the entire hall. A few gas lamps were laid out by each doorway. There were so many doors, a person could not count them alone, especially because the hall seemed to go on forever. The wallpaper seemed to even further suggest the illusion.

---

The speaker came on once more, but all that was heard was the crackling of the speaker.

"..."

"..."

"..."

"..."

"..."

"Ignore any... odd sounds you may here. My staff are quite busy."

Esther was wearing a black corset. Ruffles adorned her small bust, using frill to make up for her lack of lady ornamentation. A black ribbon laced her spine together, tied strictly and sternly into a presentable and fluffed bow. A black tulle bustle, again accented with black lace and the finer fashion of seams, was worn delicately high around her emaciated, flesh-wire waist. Her pale legs could be seen through the lingering bustle. Her calves, on the other hand, were covered by black boots, which laced up to her knees. The nicely judged platform boots added much height to her tall frame. She was beginning to feel conscientious over her choice in wardrobe until the soft, velvety sound of the White Rabbit's voice echoed through the chambers of the optical striped corridor.

Esther swiftly ceased to lean against the wall after feeling the vibration of his tone shiver her bare skin. Her feet stuttered as they glided her from the white and red striped walls. Her dark eyes dazzled as the room revealed itself further into a void of illusions. Something mystical, magical was hidden behind each door. Regardless of the price, she was curiously interested.

Using the beak of the mask, hiding her face, she guided her face to peer back to the guests. A hesitant frown carefully sketched itself over her hidden, pale lips. The guests were not something she was too terribly curious into knowing. However, the White Rabbit had made a mention that she should get to know the other guests.

Her hands rested at her sides. The feel of a shadowy spotlight enveloped her personality and swallowed her mind into a stark graveyard of nothingness. The cat had not died. No, no. The cat had caught her tongue.

"Ignore any... odd sounds you may hear. My staff are quite busy."

Hearing the sound of the White Rabbit's voice, again, excited her heart rate. With another bite of her lower lip, she contained her breaths to small, gentle puffs against the mask. Of course, he had staff, and of course, they were busy. Her cheeks blushed. Her hand lightly pressed her fingers against a black leather collar around her throat. The prints of her fingertips felt the intricate designs stitched into the works of her accessory. Small black jewels dangled from her collar, and her fingers dropped from the collar to the beads, silently apprehending the situation.

She felt flattered to have been invited. Unfortunately, something told her the flattery should be killed as immediately as it had planted itself in her mind. She was not sure what to do: enjoy the evening until the brutal end or be relentlessly scared of the very fact she was in a social gathering under the roof of the very infamous White Rabbit.

The Blind Rouge

At first, Kimi though the delivery of the box was a mistake, or perhaps a strange joke. She didn't ask around about the box or who it was supposed to be for or where it had come from. Kimi learned that jumping to conclusions was a fast way to become hurt. She looked for more information. She learned a little bit about the White Rabbit. She learned enough to know that the message was genuine. She did not entirely understand the meaning of invitation, yet, she decided finding out was worth the risk. She stole away to the realm of the White Rabbit, donned the mask of the ‘Blind Rouge’ and took her place among the other guests.

Kimi was very uncomfortable when asked to remove her possessions from her person. Kimi was a girl who preferred to be prepared . She relied on her tools and possessions, and regularly carried around a lot of equipment. She spent a lot of time in front of the box emptying her many pockets. Each time she dropped something into the box it made a sad 'clunk' against the wood. She felt as if she were leaving a piece of herself behind... But not the most important piece. Not the key! I can keep that... For now...

She thought about trying to fool the White Rabbit and smuggle something in, but decided against it. She would not get what she wanted by crossing the White Rabbit. She would only end up dead.

What is special about the key? If I have something the White Rabbit wants, why doesn’t he just take it? He certainly has the means. This was a puzzle.

She arrived and entered quietly, she appeared to be a later arrival. She was also certainly the shortest. She had her hair tied back in a low braided clump of a bun. She was thankful to be able to conceal her face with the mask. Something about the visage appealed to her. A mask of a face with a blindfold. A mask on a mask. She had acquired some nicer clothes for the occasion. Simple unremarkable things in deep blue and black. Some of items were not quite her size and she had hastily tailored and pinned them that morning to fit better. She was no tailor, a more discerning eye would notice the uneven hem and the lopsided bustle. Underneath she wore her own leggings and shirt. She felt more comfortable with her own cloths under her dress-up garb. It was like the way her own face could remain relaxed and hidden behind her mask.

Social graces were never her strong suit. Her uncle took on the role of the socialite when necessary. Her uncle was not with her tonight. Kimi was on her own.

No one was talking to anyone else. Kimi wondered if any of them knew one another, or, if they were all strangers.

The White Rabbit spoke to them through an intercom. Disregard any sounds… the staff is busy… Kimi looked around, but, did not see anyone who was not wearing a mask.

Still, no one spoke. She did not want to be the one to break the silence. Bringing attention to herself might be risky. For all she knew, some or all of these people were the staff!

The architecture and decorum were amazing. Kimi yearned to explore the mansion. She wanted to try every door and look through every corner and cranny. Yet, she had to behave. There were too many eyes on her, even if they were hidden behind masks. That fact made them more dangerous, Kimi thought.

The trick is to pretend like you're supposed to be there. That is what Uncle Roy always said. So, she didn’t say anything, but began to stroll toward the stairs and ascend them. She walked toward the room that The White Rabbit had invited them into. The place he said he would be waiting for them.

She was eager to meet the Rabbit herself.

Brinley walked up the white marbled steps carefully. She was amazed at the sight of the mansion. Clusters of white flowers decorated the yard of the mansion, along with beautiful carved statues. She started to have second thoughts about her attire.

Of course, once her family found out about the key, they insisted that she buy the most exquisite and expensive dress she could find. But she hated clothing that restricted her, and was hard to walk in. Instead, she bought a pair of pocketed red leather boots, along with a white blouse, with lacing around the sleeves. For once, her hair was let down.

She grumbled as she walked up to the box. Why am I here again? Thats right, this stupid key. Brinley had found the key while working in a upperclassmen home. She'd found it in the boiler room, and the owner told her to keep it. Who would want a lousy piece of copper in their house? Turns out she struck lucky, after working in the White Rabbits house his workers insisted she would just have to come for the party. Not like she had a choice, her family would ditch her in a second if they found out she got a ticket to a rich mans house. It was weird she never saw his face though, and strange not now.

Never mind that... Brinley read through the boxes instructions. Must be some weird government safety measure... She dumped all of her belongings into the box. A few gears, aviation hat, pocket tools, and of course, the latest copy of Jhonn Hanse's Steam Mechanics And Tool Uses book. Not like she used them anyways.

She closed her eyes and dug her hands into the box. She ripped the attached paper straight out of the mask. "Reckless Aroura?" She turned the mask to see a mirrior. It had thin copper wiring around the edges, and was sculpted to be a face. "Great... now im mirror woman." She roughly slapped the mask on her face and tied it over her head. "Lets get this over and done with." She turned the oddly cold knob of the house and stared around the room.

Swirls of white and gold marbled the floor. Vases and antiques lay on tables around the room, with white flowers growing inside them. The first thing she noticed was the grand staircase, leading upstairs. She looked around the room to see some dressed like her, others dressed in expensive cloth and jewels.

She walked over and plopped herself down on one of the blue velvet couches and crossed her arms. She looked around to see no one talking. "Well, its supposed to be a party, isn't it? Why don't we talk?"

"Well, its supposed to be a party, isn't it? Why don't we talk?"

A new woman had entered the party, immediately drawing attention to herself. Emery turned from the oddly shaped sculpture she had been admiring to see who had spoken. She hadn't really been admiring the sculpture. Instead, she was watching people discreetly. A timid figure in a cracked white mask, another with a protruding nose, and the hooded figure she had noticed earlier. Now there was a new woman - one who was featuring a mirrored mask. Emery caught her own reflection when she looked at the woman. Her expression held nothing, a complete void of emotion. It was a look she had perfected over the years and it had yet to fail on her. The plain black mask she wore only amplified her impassive expression.

"How about you start?" Emery said to the sitting woman. She smiled slightly, attempting to appear warm. "Tell us about yourself. What brought you here?" Getting people to talk about themselves had always been easy for her. They never realized they were handing her the keys to their own destruction.

Kip found his way to the alcohol table, poured himself a glass of cognac and threw it back in one gulp. His nerves were burning and he needed to relax if he was to look somewhat respectable in front of everyone else. He poured himself another glass and turned back to the room. There were 6 people here now. They probably got the same letter as Kip did. Maybe the Rabbit was a collector of sorts. The thought that someone who watched men suffocate for a living could even have such an innocent a hobby like token collecting disturbed Kip.

The Rabbit had suggested that all the guests should get to know each other. Hey, might find something out about the others. Kip found a cushioned chair and took a seat with his drink and watched the others chat.

Wilhelm smiled at everyone and decided to introduce himself. "Greeting everyone, my name is Wilhelm Drache, buyer and seller of antiques." He gave a short theatrical bow to everyone and then straightened back up. "It is a pleasure to meet new people, and as such I would like to state that if there is anything you ever need, I shall do mine best to help you."

Suddenly, the loudspeaker came on again. This time, though, it was not The Rabbit's voice. Instead, it was a deep and gravely voice. It was clear that the man was large and muscular, even without seeing him.

"I believe that you were given masks for a reason. Surely the Last Lance wouldn't do that, would you, 'Wilhelm'? Watch your words carefully. Very. Carefully."

The speaker went off with a click before something even more frightening happened.

A horrific scratching sound filled the room, so loud that it quite literally pained the ears. On the western wall, a large tally mark was being etched into the beautiful wood. Just above it, there were words being formed as well.

Strike:
I

---

The Rabbit had taken the long way, and stood in one of the side-rooms, listening against the door. His ears brushed against the cold wood. This room hadn't been touched in years. The Rabbit heard the scratching on the wood, and a slight smirk came over his lips.

"It's working," he whispered to himself, and laughed a laugh that only a madman could.

Kip's face turned white under his mask. His hand twitched slightly. In almost silent words he said,

"What the hell was that?"

His eyes darted across the room, trying to understand what was happening. Eventually they ended on his glass and he threw another drink into his mouth. When he was finished, he was horrified to see the mark was still there on the wall, and a little louder, he said

"What. The fuck. Is that!?"

The lights were out, and the darkness of her silhouette merged into the darkness and immersed her. She could no longer see the other guests. Esther shrank, hunched her wiry back, and hugged her scrawny body when the scratching sound began clawing the wall. The protruding nose shook back and forth with the movement of her quivering head. She wanted the sound to cease at once. Her teeth grinded each other.

“Wha--?” her mouth let the small question escape from the silent cage of her mouth.

The lights flicked on. She looked around at the guests, “What. The fuck. Is that!?” She heard one of the other guests exclaim in a loud voice. Her head turned, and by the wall, a strike had been written. She felt her pupils widen and then shrink.

She reached for her knife, to prepare for protection… As Esther’s spidery fingers reached inside the pocket of her corset, she remembered that she had placed the knife in the box at the beginning of her arrival.

Her head slowly turned away from the scar on the wall to look at the other guests’ reactions. Her hand weakly touched her mask. The Fickle Robin. Perhaps, that is how she should introduce herself—if approached. Her fingers gently stroked the caricature, feeling the uniqueness of its build and decoration. She had picked it for its intricate details and her curiosity for birds. But perhaps, the masks meant something more… something personal about each guest.

[The Blind Rouge]

Kimi let her curiosity draw her to the drink table. There a man was already throwing back a portion of cognac. His mask was a hooded face. She quietly slid up beside him and poured herself a portion of a rich-brown liquid. She rarely had the opportunity to indulge in expensive alcohol. Her uncle usually kept the best for himself. She sniffed the stuff, the mask was between her nose and the drink but she could still smell the liquid. Bitter, sweet, with a hint of anise.

Under her mask she frowned, perplexed by how she could taste the drink without removing her mask.

She was listening to the idle chatter that began to happen behind her. Suddenly, after one man introduced himself, there was an announcement, a terrible noise, and then the wall started to scratch a threat into the wall all by itself.

Kimi was glad that the mask hid her expression of shock. She clutched the glass tightly as the whole event unfolded.

This is a dangerous game.

When the stretching ceased, Kimi took a breath. She didn't try to drink from her glass, but did carry it with her as she approached the wall.

She peered closely at the marks, touched them. The scratch must have somehow come from the other side of the wall, but how? What was next door? It must have been some sort of complex machine, a magicians illusion set up before they arrived. She knocked on the wall beside the scratches, then walked to the next wall and knocked upon that. She was trying to judge their thickness, and if the walls were perhaps built of two different materials or at two different times. If the 'scratching' wall was different somehow Kimi would assume that the wall was added, a built in trick-wall set up before the big event.

"I wonder how many strikes we get." Her voice seemed small, much like her person. Yet, it was clear enough for all the guests to hear.

Brinley smiled under her mask finally, some socialization. She listened closely to the man talking, happy to see at least someone in this party wasnt a bore. He was talking about his life, all usually stuff. The speakers sounded quickly after he finished, and the lights went out. It was so loud the chandelier was shaking.

The lights blared back on brighter than ever. Brinley turned her head around the room, in surprise. Her heart felt like it was beating out of her chest. One of the girls threw a cuss and pointed at the wall. On the beautifully painted wallpaper, there was a line chalked upon in. What the fuck?

She crept closer to the wall, her footsteps heavy from her heart beating so fast. She traced her dark finger along the chalk. "Its chalk." She turned around to see the guest staring at the wall. Jesus.. whats with this guy? Was he... how'd he even hear our conversation? "Is this just something wealthy people do? Im not... Never mind that. Does anyone want anything to drink?"

Brinley paced over to the bar. Nervously poring herself a drink. She didn't bother to read what the drink was, she was to busy thinking about everything that happened.

Wilhelm frowned, then the lights went out. When they came back on, a mark was on the wall. He stared at it and pursed his lips, deep in thought. The fact that they couldn't say their names or describe their life annoyed him. He saw it as an insult towards him, so he decided that he had grown bored. "Me Rabbit, I understand that you are a bit, eccentric, however I didn't come here to have my time wasted. I know what you want from me, and the others. I don't know why you want it, but I don't care one bit. I came here to negotiate for it, but if all you're willing to do is play parlour games, then there is nothing for us to discuss. Good day fair people." He then started marching towards the door, tried to open it, only to discover that it was locked.

Brinley saw a man try to exit. What was his name? Whilly? She walked forward and set her drink on the table. "The doors just jammed or something. Ill fix it, its probably a Hesingburg standard gear system. Very popular, but unreliable." She stared at the door knob, using her free hands to inspect it. She was feeling around for a gear. "Strange, there should be a gear ridge poking out here. Must be a unconventional system. Don't worry." She reached to her pocket for her Steam Mechanics book. Dammit... I left it in the box.

"Well, its probably been jammed by dirt or rust. Unusual for a closed system. Never mind that, i'm sure he'll call a mechanic. Hell, I can fix it myself." She let out a nervous laugh. She was starting to freak out. "So uhm... what... where did you guys find your uh.. keys? Assuming your all here because of them."