Disclaimer : I Do Not Own Boxtrolls.

Precious Family
Chapter One

Hear ye! Hear ye! Good citizens of Cheesebridge, the curfew is in force. Don't dawdle or the beasts will tear you limb from limb!

They will add your flesh to their rivers of blood and mountains of bones. Lock your windows! Bolt your doors! Hide anything that is not bolted down. Hide your cheese. Hide your tender and delicious babies!

Beware the bloodthirsty monsters! They'll fry your eyes, gnaw on your knees, gobble your gizzards... Beware! BEWARE!

Anya rolled her eyes as she closed the curtains in the bedroom of young Winifred and made her way back to the bed where the young girl was sitting up.

"That man gets more and more irritating as the day goes by" she said as she smoothed the covers down.

"Yeah, I know. How's your mother doing?" asked Winifred.

"She's still ill. But she's getting there. Until then, I'm your nanny, got it" said Anya , poking her young charges nose.

"Got it. We're still going to the Trubshaw baby festival tomorrow, right? You and Andrew promised me."

Anya took a deep breath.

"Yeah, of course" she smiled as she blew out the candles and left.

"See you in the morning" she smiled.

"G'night."


A few hours into the night, a noise outside woke Winifred up. She groaned, rubbed her eyes and made her way to the window, pulling the curtain aside a little to see out. She saw the edges of the shadows and a trash lid roll before stopping. She hurriedly shut the curtains, a light in her eye.

"Boxtrolls" she whispered,"they could eat my face off any moment. I need to warn father."

She left and made her way to her father's meeting room. After knocking and receiving no answer, she pushed the door open.

A wide hall filled with four men as they taste cheese enter Winnie's view.

Winnie's has known these men her whole life, mostly because they never seem to leave her house.

Boulanger mostly sleeps in his wheelchair, thin and beaked Broderick laughs at everything her father says while across from him sits his exact opposite, Langsdale, stuffing himself silly and her father stands proud as he should, being the Lord of the town. Lord Portly Rind.

"Settle down, men, settle down" her father says, "important town business to discuss. First up is the multiple complaints of crumbling bridges."

"Speaking of crumbling" interrupted Langsdale, "is that a new blue cheese I see." Broderick stands and sniffs the cheese.

"Does smell delicious" he comments.

Portley-Rind sighs and says: "I suppose we could do with a nibble first," as though they were actually going to do any work for the town.

The four men sniff the cheese, rolls it around in the mouth and spitting into bucket, as though the cheese were a wine. They comment on it to until Winnie stands and says in a clear voice : "Father."

He chokes on a chedder.

"Winifred" he choked, and he stood and marched his way over to his daughter. "Winifred go on. Off to bed. Off to bed! Come on, come on."

"But father! I saw boxtrolls again!" she cried.

"Shoo, shoo shoo" said Portley-Rind, escorting Winnie from the room, although the majority of his attention was still on the goings on in there rather than his own daughter.

"They're right outside" Winnie excalimed,"they could come rip the flesh off my bones any moment!"

"Would be a shame to miss this,Portley-Rind!" was catcalled from the room.

"Yes, yes, one moment!" he called back before turning to look at Winnie, "Winifred, proper girls should not be obsessing over monsters."

Portley-Rind's attention is directed to the shenanigans going on in the room.

"I'm not obsessed! I just can't stop imagining them gnawing off my toes and stringing them together as a necklace! Father? Father" Winnie said.

Her father, clearly not paying her attention, agrees and pats on the head.

"If they kidnapped me and slurped up my intestines like noodles, would you give up your white hat to save me?" Winnie asked, a frown on her face.

"Hmm? Um. Yes, Winifred."

"Father" Winnie yelled, clearly angry.

"What? Uh... White Hat? Right." He takes his hat to look at it and see a smudge of dirt on it, so he passes it to his daughter, "Be a dear and have the butler give it a wash, would you?"

He hands a stunned Winnie his White Hat and turns her toward the stairs. He closes the door before she can open her mouth.

Winnie, glowering, goes back to her room, opens her balcony doors.

"I'll give your hat a wash alright" she grunt before she throws it into the street.