His tail swished lazily back and forth in the musty old cell, he twitched his furry cat ears and yawned obnoxiously at the sight of this old git standing in front of the cell he was in.

The men had placed these meaningless restraints on him; they did not fully know that he had the strength to break out of them.

Opaque eyes stared back at the feline yellow green ones through the bars. “Well, this is definitely an interesting catch.” Moebius chuckled. “It appears as though we have a kitty cat on our hands.”

“Would you care to pet me, sir? I do so think you would not enjoy losing one of your frail hands over there.” Chevalier gave his trademark jagged grin before he smoothed back his ears on his head. “I’m very good with people…usually.”

“Well, Mr. Cat. I am to understand that is complete and utter rubbish, as you killed several of my men upon your admittance here.” Moebius informed him, watching as the guard lifted up a small metal door on the other side and slid in a plate of poorly prepared scraps.

“…It was a spur of the moment.” Chevalier cooed, plucking at several stray fleas in his tail and crushing them to death in his fingers.

Moebius grimaced in disgust. He was full of parasites, how wonderful.

“I’m sure you’re hungry Mr. Cat. Go ahead and eat. I apologize, but we don’t have much. Now, why were you on the border and where did you come from?” He had to be careful; the wrong question could lead to a lie. Moebius, at this time, couldn’t risk any false information.

Chevalier nitpicked at the scraps before he temperamentally threw the tin dish at the wall and bit at his fingernails. “I smell decay in it. Madame always feeds me better than that.” He sneered, his tongue flicking out and he lashed at the end of the spear that was jabbed inside the bars at him. Chevalier had snapped it in half and began poking at the guard with his own end of it. “Poking me isn’t going to get you anywhere, so now I’ll poke at you. It’s not much fun when the grizzly bear turns the stick on you now is it?”

The guard, annoyed, snatched the broken end of the staff only to have it driven through his hand. “OWAH!”
Chevalier grinned maliciously before he let go of his stick. “Now…you were saying?” His brow cocked, not paying much attention to the blood dribbling on the floor.

Moebius ordered the guard to leave the room and tend to his hand, snapping his fingers and giving an obviously annoyed look. “Very well, Mr. Cat. We’ll talk on your level. Where did you come from?”

Chevalier’s memory was cloudy and he didn’t really exactly know where he came from, he just remembered faded gray scenarios in his dreams. Then again, Chevalier didn’t know or trust this man. He wasn’t Madame Hatter. He wasn’t anyone he knew. Well there was the fact this man was a complete stranger to him and

Chevalier’s natural instinct to distrust what could threaten him often kicked in when his intuition was right.

Chevalier’s tail twitched and he came close to the bars, his ears flattened against his head. “…I can’t recall for sure. You could probably ask my kind benefactors. Madame Hatter and Mistress Hare. Then again…they’re in a different time period.”

Moebius was taken aback and he dared to venture closer. “You…time traveled?” He sounded highly curious.

Chevalier’s ears perked back up and he grinned. “In a sense. See, I’m everywhere…”

Moebius became alarmed when he suddenly disappeared and reappeared behind him with his restraints still on.

 “And nowhere.”

The Timestreamer felt his heart stop only briefly, due to the fact that he was somewhat vulnerable, but he could not read this one’s path and he couldn’t be too sure if this would be his time to die or not. He knew he did not die by Kain’s hand in this time period, but this creature…he didn’t know.

“Lord Moebius, we should transport you to safer haven in the stronghold. The vampire is getting closer.” A guard walked in to inform him immediately of the situation at hand. “We’ve lost up to 40 men now.”

Just as quickly as Chevalier had been behind him, he was back in his cell giving a cheerful little wave at the old Timestreamer. “Oops. Did I do that? Or is your senility getting to you?”

Moebius stood there baffled at this cat man. He had been able to get out of his cell just like that, with no effort using magic almost it seemed.

“We’ll discuss things later.” Moebius proclaimed, turning his back. “We’ll need heavy surveillances on that one.” He whispered to the guard as they left the room. “He’s not of this world and he definitely is no vampire. This creature is something I do not want underestimated by any means.” Moebius warned.

“Understood my lord. How many men do you want guarding him and during what times?”

“As many as you can gather, and I want him watched around the clock.” Moebius said, reaching a hand up to his temples to rub them. “I must go. Again, do not underestimate him.”

“What about your meeting with this ‘so-called Monarch? This Royal Majesty of the Black Hearts?” The guard called down the hallway to Moebius skeptically.

“Just send word to her that I’m delayed and she’ll have to wait.” Moebius sighed. “I have other matters to attend to. If her men come, it might not be on my head but all of yours.” He pointed out.

While walking down the hallway, Moebius began to contemplate on the use of ‘time travel’ that this strange and unusual prisoner had described himself using.

“Time travel? Who besides me has the power to use and manipulate time?”

--

Kain easily overpowered the guards, and he didn’t mind dispatching them very much. What were a few casualties here and there? Just as he had stepped into the holding area for prisoners, he could smell something unusually strong and potent. Kain grimaced when he found several dead guards lying around and blood seemed to be smeared all over the walls. A prisoner? The Sarafan had caught something and put it in the holding cells? How careless of them.

He tried to follow this unusual scent, cautiously until he came across another gruesome sight. There were several men freshly dead and disemboweled on the floor in front of them. “All of that blood, gone to waste. Well Moebius, you must have restrained something that obviously has a taste for the sight of blood and not the blood itself. What have you gone and tried to torture now?”

As Kain continued his stroll down the hallway, he continued to see the casualties pile up and then the trail seemed to go cold. “…It’s loose.” He said suddenly, wondering if this should be cause for alarm or use the unleashed monster’s chaos as a distraction to finding Moebius quicker.

Kain chose the latter and decided to use the situation to his advantage. All the while he could not help but feel he was being watched. The feeling became quite correct because he soon heard a distinct humming from the ceiling and found something suddenly swing down in front of him, hanging upside down.

Kain drew back suddenly, Reaver drawn and fangs gritting together, until he got a good look at this mysterious ‘monster’ that must have been causing the havoc. “Well…”

Chevalier’s tail had latched onto a stray chandelier and he hung there absentmindedly licking his fingers clean of blood. “…Bonjour.” He said, spinning his head around like an owl at Kain and grinning at him.

“Sorry, old boy. I got a little antsy in my cage and, well, the rest is history.” He held out his arms and gestured to the bodies behind him.

Kain didn’t seem amused. “…I was supposed to feed from them.” He growled.

“Sorry. My special lust for havoc called. I guess I must have wasted a few good pints or quarts of blood.” Chevalier pressed a finger to his lips and his grin widened. “Oh! I know about you! They were yelling and screaming something about you and then the old git walked off and left me alone with the men guarding me. Don’t the elderly know better than that?” He snickered.

Chevalier’s humor was cut short and he found the Reaver pressed against his throat. “Ah, I see.” Said Kain.

“Moebius did put you here, and he must have underestimated your abilities. But, that aside, I do have to say your presence here is interesting. Unfortunately I don’t have time to play any games with you, my feline friend. Now,”

Chevalier felt blood trickle from a small cut on his neck from the sword. “…Yesssss?” He hissed curiously.

“Where did the Timestreamer head off to?” Kain’s tone was livid with his question.

His ears twitched atop his head. “Oohhhhh….Somebody’s in a hurry.” He tittered.

Kain’s response was pushing the Reaver blade closer to a sensitive vein on Chevalier’s neck.

Unfazed by this, Chevalier resumed licking his fingers. “Hmm…well, if you really are in that much of a hurry, he went down this hallway. Otherwise I’m just having my bit of fun. I’ve got bigger things to do. For instance, feed my curiosity.” Chevalier purred deeply in his throat before dropping down from the ceiling in front of him.

Kain of course moved the Reaver quickly and had it positioned at Chevalier’s neck again. “Do you believe I just plan to allow you to walk away like this as though nothing has happened?”

Chevalier’s tail flicked out and his ears flattened against the back of his head before he gave a very realistic feline hiss at Kain and he disappeared before the vampire’s eyes.

Kain became baffled by this feat and suddenly found Chevalier standing atop of the Reaver blade, poised and balanced carefully on it. This didn’t do much to help Kain’s mood, so he swung the blade.

Chevalier jumped off and did several back flips down the hallway. “If I were you…” He stated. “I would watch the walls. If you are still looking for the old git, I think you’ll find him judging by the trail I basically left on the way to where he went.”

So, he did know the direction Moebius went in. “How can I be so sure of your word?”

“…Come on. If my trail doesn’t lead you to him you’ll be able to find him yourself.” Chevalier chuckled. “So, go on Mr. Vampire. Shoo, shoo now before the rest of his men come. I’m going off to wreak more havoc.” He tittered, then had disconnected his tail from behind him and begun skipping with it as though it were a jump rope. Then he disappeared with his laughter ringing down the hallways.

Kain’s mouth hung agape slightly in baffled state at the peculiar sight before he watched the escaped prisoner go off on his own. He knew better than to trust the advice of a stranger, then again…the bodies did seem to form some kind trail that relevantly led towards Moebius’ direction. “Very well, but, if you have deceived me in any way…you will sorely regret it.” Kain growled in the direction of the cat-man.

Chevalier’s laughter echoed off the walls.

“We’ll see, Mr. Vampire. We’ll see.”

--

The rain came down hard on the mansion that afternoon. Reginald stood there by a stained glass window trying to see outside. There were several habits Reginald Rabbit had, one was his uncanny and annoying ability have his teeth chattering together, another was his constant fiddling with his pocket watch and ears, and finally there was his horrible habit of sorting things when they did not need to be sorted. He stood there wringing his ears in his hands, he couldn’t help but think about Chevalier popping out of nowhere to terrify him when he was suddenly and abruptly brought out of his inner thoughts by Vorador slapping a hand on his shoulder.

“AYIIII!!!!!” He screamed, shooting up immediately to be clinging onto a chandelier above.

Vorador stood beneath him, watching the little white fluff of tail shake as Reginald peered down at him through his glasses. “Oh…Mist-Mister Vorador.” He sighed with relief before dropping down from the chandelier and dusting himself off. “I’m so terribly sorry sir, you frightened me. I almost believed you to be Chevalier. He does love to torture me so.”

Vorador couldn’t help but feel some form of pity for this little bunny-man. He obviously had little backbone and what strength he did have he didn’t put it to use like Mistress Henrietta did when kicking him. “I can see that.” He said, looking the very pale and distressed young man over.

Reginald was pulling at his ears again, until Vorador grew annoyed with it and slapped his hands’ away from his ears. “Will you stop that? You’re starting to irritate me and you and that Rat are the only ones that actually don’t give me any trouble unlike your benefactors and Mr. Cat.” Vorador hissed. “Now, I suggest if you have any sportsmanship in you at all, you’ll come join the poker game right now.”

“P-Poker? Oh, sir. I couldn’t. I don’t play cards very well. I serve tea. Madame never plays card with me. I’m sure Delmont would be a better partner than I.” Reginald tried to assure him. “If anything I handle sorting and dealing the cards. That’s all I really know how to do. I-I mean I do play cards, but I’m no good at poker.”

Vorador shook his head. “You are absolutely hopeless, and I’m losing games because I don’t have a partner. Your precious Madame always has that loathsome (yet attractive) friend draped around her 24 hours a-day-“

“The Madame and Mistress are very close friends. It’s not unusual…to me.” Reginald tried to explain. Vorador, however, proved to be skeptical.

“Oh please.”

“Mistress is just concerned for Madame’s well being, as am I.” He stammered. “It’s just-just-“

“Oh stop it Mr. Rabbit. You’re clearly in no state for conversation.” Vorador sighed, rubbing his temples. “You mentioned your friend was good at poker?”

“Of course I am.” From behind, Reginald peered over Vorador to see his friend Delmont Dormouse standing there.

Vorador turned his gaze to the blank and glazed over eyes of Delmont standing there in a pair of evening pajamas and holding a book in one hand. “Hello Mr. Vorador. I see you’re in need of a poker partner for the afternoon game with Madame Hatter and Mistress Hare. You’re in luck, I’m in the mood.”

“…Oh.” Vorador said, just now figuring out that Delmont wasn’t really staring at him, his gaze was just looking ahead. “You’re blind. I’ve nearly forgotten that. Well, what good is a blind poker partner?” He grumbled.

Delmont was a short little creature, compared to Reginald. He only stood at a height of about 5’2 and barely reached Vorador’s chest by the way he stood. Atop his head were a very poised set of mouse ears that twitched at every sound that could be heard, with his little rat tail flicking back and forth to guide him as he walked.

“Oh, Mr. Vorador. I wouldn’t doubt my skills just because I lack sight. You forget, just because I cannot see with my sight, doesn’t mean I cannot see with my mind.” He tapped the side of his head, moving several locks of greasy black hair out of his face. Delmont stood there with his book in hand. “Well Mr. Vorador. It is your call. Do you want me as your partner or not?”

There was silence between the two before Vorador sighed.

“I suppose any partner is better than no partner.”

--

The forest was littered with wildlife trying to find any means of shelter to hide from the ongoing storm. Puddles were leapt through and he was soaked with the precipitation falling from the sky. Raziel’s blazing white eyes followed the path through the rain-soaked forest towards Vorador’s mansion in hope that there was still time before Moebius’ hunters got to him. When he thought about how quickly he had moved in order to seek another form of closure for his destiny, the wraith could not help but wonder why there was a strange air about the gates when he suddenly approached them.

Water cascaded off his greasy black locks of hair as he kicked the metal gate open and leapt into the courtyard.

“…I still have time. Good. Moebius’ hunters haven’t arrived yet.” He said, somewhat relieved. “Since Vorador is the maker of the Reaver he has the authority to possibly rewrite my fate.” He climbed up to the double doors that led inside the mansion and pulled on them. A stone balcony above collapsed overtop the door and Raziel jumped backwards at the sight.

“I should have known. Vorador wouldn’t make it easy for intruders to get in.” He stated, glancing behind him at the statues coming to life.

“I suppose I’ll have to do this the hard way.” The Soul Reaver was drawn out in a bright light on his arm as his stone adversaries approached.

--

Card games were usually one way the girls used to pass the time while they were staying at Vorador’s until Chevalier returned. For a long time, Henrietta and Harlequin were often good at playing poker. They had no trouble beating the old vampire at poker and surely took delight in his frustration at every loss. Unfortunately, and rarely, today was not one of those days.

“Delmont, you know, I would rather like an explanation as to why you paired up with Mr. Vorador in this particular card game. I’m sure we would have loved to have had you play along but without being partners with him.” Madame Harlequin Hatter tipped the brim of her maroon top hat up to peer down at Mr. Dormouse and the old green vampire on the other side of the table.

“Mr. Dormouse insisted upon it. Mr. Rabbit unfortunately declined interest in playing the game with us. Why, Madame Hatter, you’re not afraid that you’re losing are you?” Vorador’s brow cocked and he couldn’t help but grin.

“Well…Henrietta’s all out of chips. So she’s decidedly backed out on me, and I’m down to my last few bits.” She looked down at the small pile of poker chips in front of her.

On the other side of the table, Delmont and Vorador were literally buried under a pile of chips it seemed. Delmont not needing to see, since he was blind, twitched his ears. “Well Madame. It certainly has been a fun game. I appreciate you letting me play along.”

Vorador of course glanced over at Henrietta by a large window in the dining room. She was behind Madame Hatter brooding with a scowl on her face. “You know my dear, there’s always strip poker we could play if you’re interested.”

“Go fuck yourself.” Henrietta Hare hissed at him.

“By all means, you can join me there as well.” Vorador chuckled; Harlequin Hatter’s brow cocked in annoyance and she lay her cards face down on the table. “Tea!” She called out.

Within a few moments, Reginald came bustling out of the kitchen with a large tray in his hands and set it down on the table. He picked up a silver teapot and poured the contents of it into a thoroughly large ceramic teacup and handed it to Harlequin with his hands shaking the cup in the saucer. “H-Here you are Madame.” He said, his teeth chattering.

“Reginald, my friend. I’ll take a cup as well if you don’t mind.” Delmont raised his hand into the air over the chips so Reginald would see him.

The rabbit-eared man quickly dashed over towards Delmont and poured him a cup as well.

Just as Harlequin had taken a sip of her tea, her face contorted and she smacked her lips in distaste. “Sugar, please.” She snapped her fingers, politely.

Just as Reginald was pouring Delmont a cup he had to dash back over to Madame Hatter and add several cubes to her drink. He offered Henrietta a cup to which she declined with a shake of her head.

“Mr. Vorador. Any tea for you?” Reginald asked, holding up the pot.

“I’m not technically able to consume human nourishments. So, no. I will not be requiring any.” Vorador thanked him for the effort and Reginald went back to the kitchen.

Harlequin Hatter stirred the sugar around in her cup of tea before she sipped it again and nodded her delight. “Hm. That’s more like it. Sweet. Like it should be.”

There was a commotion from outside and Delmont’s ears twitched atop his head. Eyes closing, he put his cards down and placed his hands to his ears before he stood up.

“There is one outside.” He informed.

Henrietta looked up in alarm and punched her fists together. “Massacre.” She growled. “I’ll slaughter ‘em!”

“Hold yourself, Henrietta.” Harlequin got up and took her teacup with her. “I shall handle this.”

Without another word, she turned and left the dining room without another word before Vorador looked over at Delmont. “What did you see?”

“A visitor Mr. Vorador. He’s here about his destiny.” Delmont answered, his head turning in Vorador’s direction.

“I believe you have met once.”

“Oh. That. Yes. It’s nothing really.” Vorador shrugged the matter off. “Now…Mistress Hare. If you wouldn’t mind…we can still play you know.” He said, his tongue clicked at her in a sly fashion before a candleholder was thrown at his head and crashed onto the table, spilling the chips all over Delmont.

“You can fuck your mother instead.”

--

After some much-troubled time getting into the manor, Raziel had finally accomplished his task of breaking and entering without being invited. As soon as he entered the main room though after a run down the hallway he was met with a stranger standing at the top of the stairs in the main room.

Harlequin Hatter held her teacup in her hands, curiously surveying the uninvited guest while he in turn tried to determine just what exactly she was doing here.

“…What is this?” Raziel’s voice was demanding an immediate answer. “Who are you woman? Where is the vampire Vorador?”

There was silence as Harlequin Hatter held up a finger to him to wait patiently as she sipped her tea.

“Answer!” Raziel yelled, the Soul Reaver drawn as a threat.

Harlequin suddenly stopped sipping her tea to stare down at the glowing ghostly blade around his arm and she blinked several times before she finally spoke. “You wield it.”

He glanced at the Reaver and pointed it upwards at her. “Yes, I do. What do you know of the Reaver, woman.”

“The kind that was once our enemy wielded it.” Harlequin answered. “And so did the champion of our kin.” She began walking down the stairway towards him.

“What is this? Is this some form or mockery? Trickery? What false information do you know?”

“This,” She began, gesturing with the teacup as Henrietta and Reginald were seen at the top of the stairwell with Delmont lazily approaching the railing above. “Is the Mad Tea Party.”

“And you…” She turned back towards Raziel with a frown.

 “Are not the Vampire Messiah you believe yourself to be.”
The only sound that was heard after several long moments of silence was the sudden crash of a teacup.

“MADAME!”

--

Authoress Note: Ooh! Do we know if anything happened to Harlequin Hatter, and what intriguing things does she know about Raziel’s true nature? Who exactly are these strange members known as The Mad Tea Party? Will Chevalier’s bloody trail lead Kain to Moebius? Stay tuned for the next chapter of: The Schrodinger Paradox.