𝐂𝐔𝐑𝐒𝐄𝐃 | 𝐭𝐰𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐚𝐥𝐞𝐬

𝐗𝐗𝐕𝐈𝐈𝐈. 𝐓𝐚𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐀𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐥

𝐀𝐒 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐌𝐎𝐁 reached the edge of the forest and looked at the castle looming before them, the fire of their spirits dwindled. Realizing if he didn't act quickly that they might turn back, Gaston gestured for the villagers to bring forth the trees they'd cut down that would act as battering rams.

"Are you not the least bit concerned..." LeFou stammered, "that this castle might be haunted?"

"Don't lose your nerve, LeFou," Gaston reprimanded.

The battering ram worked like a charm and the castle doors were thrown back on their hinges. Gaston waved the villagers onward and lifted his torch as he stepped inside himself.

"Take whatever booty you can find," Gaston urged, but added a quick warning with a dangerous glare in his eyes, "but remember, the Beast is mine!"

The villagers cautiously stepped forward, muttering under their breaths as they crept further inside. Belle and her father shared a knowing glance, but were otherwise ignored by the others.

"Oh, hello, there." LeFou chuckled as he bent down to look at the delicate tea set that had been left out. Although Celine hadn't shared much of her experience at the castle, Belle had mistakenly confided in Gaston; therefore, LeFou knew all about the enchanted place even if he didn't actually believe every aspect of the story. "You must be the talking tea cup. And you must be his grandmother."

"Grandmother?" Mrs. Potts gasped. LeFou jumped back startled as Mrs. Potts screamed her battle cry. "Attack!"

The dark interior was immediately lit by the candles hung around the room and that's when the inanimate objects around the room proved that they were very much alive indeed.

Chaos ensued as feather dusters and dishes terrorized some of his best men while the tea set scalded the others, leaving burns that would take weeks to heal. Gaston winced, but didn't allow himself to be deterred. Sometimes in battle sacrifices had to be made for victory to be claimed.

"Gaston!" LeFou called for him. Gaston hardly glanced over his shoulder, noticing that his short comrade had been pinned beneath a piano. "Gaston. Help."

"Sorry, old friend," Gaston half-heartedly apologized before flashing a charming grin, "It's hero time."

LeFou looked crestfallen as Gaston ascended the stairs. He had one thing on his mind: killing the beast. Sure, the intention was to save Celine from whatever spell she'd been placed under, but he never was one to have his priorities right nor the strongest multitasker. So it didn't help that his thoughts threatened to distract him as he continued his climb.

"We are young. Heartache to heartache. We stand. No promises. No demands. Love is a battlefield. We are strong. No one can tell us we're wrong. Searching our hearts for so long. Both of us knowing, love is a battlefield."

Once he reached the top of the stairs, he pulled his crossbow from his shoulder. Normally he would've started with his musket, but this creature did not deserve a quick death. He needed it to feel his pain and understand how it had tainted his angel with its monstrosity of dark magic.