Note: The story will take on my view of the events as canonical as possible. If anyone reading this detects a flaw that can be corrected, address me and I´ll see what I can do.
Disclaimer: I do not own FNAF or Beauty and the Beast
After Belle did all she could for Paul´s nose, she went down to take care of lunch, leaving Paul to attend to his own thoughts. He covers the window with curtains so the sunlight wouldn´t bother him, closes the door and sits in the bed again.
Paul swears there and then he would never drink any alcoholic drink from that moment onward, given that it had made him look like an idiot despite what Belle had tried to make him believe. He never drank before, Maurice had taught him it did no good and Paul always heeded his advices. Paul adds a mental note to speak with Monsieur Gerard about throwing that kind of party ever again.
One objective set, he placed it in his head and moved on to bigger questions.
What was Vincent?
"A hallucination? No that´s been excluded because of my nose. Magic? No that doesn´t exist so I can rule that out too."
But that seemed like the most reasonable answer. No one can cover itself completely in black and have white eyes yet be able to see. It´s impossible! Belle hadn´t seen it either and she was not the type of making jokes involving intruders in the house, much less doing a joke.
"Let´s presume that it´s magic. What wizard or witch would hold a grudge against me? I never met anyone who was one and I´m sure that if I hurt someone I would realize that."
Paul scratches his head, feeling tired, and lays down, closing his eyes.
"As for that creature, just what was that? He was like Vincent but much more terrifying… When did all this…?"
Paul takes out his new pocket-book, opens it and scrolls the pages, looking for the entry of the day he found out the truth about him. He re-reads the entry and stops when he comes across the words "Lightning echoed outside of the house, illuminating the town, the trees and the shadow of a thin man; (…)"
"Was it the same thing?", he wondered."Were we being watched by Vincent? Or was that the result of a spell? Or…", his heart pounds faster, suddenly filled with hope, "… was that my father?"
Perhaps his family had been watching him to make sure he had been delivered in good hands! But that would lead to the conclusion that his parents practiced magic, and Paul knew he`d know if he was good with magic.
Paul grabs his pencil and decides to write a new entry:
25th of November, 1790
These last two days have been mystery after mystery: First my birthday goes wrong but that´s easy to understand and common. Second I was visited by two mysterious figures. The one I´m more familiar with is called Vincent and he sounds like he came from the asylum. He seems really real because he could break my nose but apparently I´m the only one who can see him. The other one was (Paul pauses to ponder) a rabbit that could walk on two paws and was much taller than me. It too was all black and his eyes had white and blue pupils. So I can assume that Vincent and the rabbit came from the same place or spell (still unlikely to me).
I wonder if this all began when Maurice told me about the day he discovered me in the woods. According to my entries, there was lightning and at the same time the shadow of a man materialized. So either he was Vincent or (once more very unlikely) someone spying on us. And the only reasons I see for spying of us are one of my parents checking on me or a curious neighbor "fearing" for my safety. I really hope it´s the former out of the two.
And worst of all, I received Gulliver´s Travels yesterday as a birthday gift and now it´s (Paul flips a page to continue writing) somewhere in the pub. Belle offered to go get it but I don´t see the others giving her passage inside (maybe Gaston would but that won´t be of any good). And Monsieur Gerard told me to seize life and all of it´s past and present. But I don´t picture myself going back to those days. It made sense as a kid but now I wish for quiet days every time. Maybe I´m becoming old to soon. And somewhere deep down I know Gerard is right. And fortunately I can still be a child as long as I have my baby sister and Maurice.
Paul finishes his entry and closes the pocket book. He decides to leave it on top of the desk nearby and proceeds to stretch his arms, hearing a relaxing cracking in the bones. Paul sniffs a pleasant odor in the door and realizes Belle has cooked lunch, which seems to be stewed rabbit. But the smell is accompanied by a musical sound.
The sound comes from outside, so Paul separates the curtains and opens the window, the sunlight flowing back into the room. Paul narrows the eyes and puts a hand above his eyebrows. It takes concentration and time but he manages to distinguish an altar, tables with food and a handful of people chatting. And just by the bushes near the lake he sees Gaston and Lefou, hidden and looking at the house.
"What the hell?", Paul mentally exclaims.
Was Gaston about to propose to Belle? For the bloody millionth time?
Paul resisted the urge to do an eye-roll so he would see Gaston give Lefou instructions, pointing to the house and to see Lefou eagerly play the maestro rule in the band.
"Even a band? Mon Dieu!"
Paul closes the window and runs to downstairs. While on the staircase he heard the doorbell ring and before he could stop her, Belle was already walking past him.
-Wait Belle, no, it´s… - Paul jumps down the staircase.
A sighescapes Belle´s lips along with an eye roll as she saw, through the Visitor´s Mirror, as Maurice had named it, who was at the doorstep.
-…Gaston. – Paul finishes grumbling. – Need help?
-I can handle him Paul, go eat. – Belle reassures him with a confident smile.
He lived with her long enough to know she had the expertise in dismissing men politely, so he retreats to the kitchen in nine giant steps, while Belle opens the door. Yet that did not stop Paul from remaining behind the wall to listen to the conversation.
-This. Is. Pitiful.
Paul made a double take before confronting Vincent for a second time, the latter waving off the smoke that came from the prepared dish with a disgusted face.
-She cooked this? Christ, I don´t like rabbit and neither do ye! – Vincent complains with crossed arms.
-Actually I like rabbit so you´ll have to tell me how come you think I don´t. – Paul informs and demands him.
-Hellooo? I´m yer SUBCONSCIOUS! Then again I´m me own man inside an arsehole. You ca- Who the fuck is here too? – Vincent tilts his head to the side when he heard a conversation.
-Gaston. He´s a hunter.– Paul says.
-Oh, the "I WANT TO PUNCH THE ASSHOLE" fellow? – Paul blushes as his definition of Gaston is quoted by Vincent. - And is that Belle? – Vincent taps his right foot repeatedly in impatience.
-Yes, Gaston´s trying to propose to her… again./again? – Paul and Vincent finish simultaneously.
-Nope, nein, niet, he ain´t puttin` his hands on my gal! – Vincent storms off the kitchen, his white pupils narrowed.
Paul sees him leaving the kitchen and follows him, hiding from sight behind the same wall. He takes a peek. Gaston was sitting in an armchair, his feet with only his pestilent socks crossed on top of the table and his boots lying around. Belle was on the opposite side of Gaston, staring at Gaston´s feet disgusted, though Gaston didn´t seem to notice. And just behind him was Vincent, glaring daggers at the back of his neck. He exchanges an amused look with Paul before cracking his knuckles and placing his hands around Gaston´s head. Gaston stops talking and shivers as if the temperature had gone down to -20ºC. Belle was confused by his sudden attitude and cautiously steps forward to observe him.
Gaston literally jumps out of the armchair and lands right in front of Belle. His eyes are unusually wide open and sweat is running down his face. Vincent was at his left side, a white grin cutting his dark face.
-I am so sorry for being a stupid idiot, Belle. – Vincent says. – I´ve never taken your feelings in consideration and kept messing with you. From now on, I will not disturb, stalk you, thinking dirty thoughts about you and any other unforgivable things I did.
- I am so sorry for being a stupid idiot, Belle. I´ve never taken your feelings in consideration and kept messing with you. From now on, I will not disturb, stalk you, thinking dirty thoughts about you and any other unforgivable things I did. – Gaston repeats under his trance.
Belle raises her eyebrows, unsure of what to do or say.
-Well… thank you Gaston but… are you feeling well? – She questions him.
-Fine as I´ll ever feel! Now, I bet ya wanna get cozy with your brother? – Gaston repeats Vincent´s words, his tone neutral while Vincent´s dripping with malice.
Paul´s jaw was hanging a minute ago but now it was the comical description of dumbfounded: his back in a hunch, arms balancing, jaw hanging and twitching and, to complete the painting, the urge to laugh barely held back. Belle is not away of following suit and Vincent releases a maniacal laughing that Gaston imitates. Vincent now heads to the door with Gaston on his side, the former making sure to give giant steps and walking like a penguin, and makes Gaston open the door and step outside.
Immediately the band played it´s fast and euphoric play and the guests looked away from their points of interest to look at the newlyweds. But when they saw only Gaston at the door, with sweat and eyes wide open, they got confused and concerned. Even Lefou of all people noticed him.
-My friends! I have talked to Belle and I have come to realize I have been a prick. I have better things to do than harassing Belle and to prove that I´m calling off the wedding! – Gaston shouted with his arms spread, with Vincent trying to keep the pompous act.
-WHAT? – The wedding guests shout in unison.
-You didn´t hear me? Shou, shou, everyone get back to your tedious lives. I gotta take a dive. – Gaston gestured the people to leave. The next thing everyone knows is that Gaston leapt to join the pigs in a mud bath, which has all beginning to think he was sick.
Paul and Belle, who were watching with the others, respectively throw Gaston´s boots outside and close the door, locking it before the people outside came barging in with questions. There was a moment of silence that stretched for too long. It was broken with soft chuckles coming from Paul, which was soon followed by laughter, one so strong that it made the broken nose hurt, him clutching his belly and gasping for air. Belle joins in too, resulted from the situation and the contagious laughter.
-W-what is w-HAHAHA- wrong with Gas-HAHA-ton? – She chokes on her question as she tried to move to the living room.
-Can´t imagine what and don´t care. – Paul lies. –For all I care, the village will never let Gaston forget this day and I´ll treasure it for the rest of my life.
KNOCK, KNOCK
-Oi, Paul. Lemme in!
Paul looks through the Visitor´s Mirror to see Vincent banging on the door and Gaston walking away from the cottage, covered in mud and cursing loudly to the heavens with an ever present Lefou consoling him. Paul waits for Gaston to go away and unlocks the door to let Vincent in.
-Now that´ll teach `im not to mess with my catch. So, Ah reckon you have questions? – Vincent cleans the dust from his dark form and sees Paul nodding. –Alrighty then, have a sit.
Paul obeys and Vincent walks around the room, touching the things and photos.
-So, I´m Vincent, the only cool thing that´s happened to ya in all of yer life and I´m 23 years old, yuppy, Ah´m yer age. I love purple, I love knives, mocking people and things and FOXY! I hate that crying excuse for an animatronic, my family, and all that is related to Freddy Fazbear and me.
-Wait, who are Foxy, that Freddy Frezbear person and how come you hate yourself?
-Because I could not stop ye from becoming a bookworm sucker, you pussy-cat. And Freddy FAZbear, not Frezbear, shame on you, rot in hell, is a pizzeria from around the block I lived. And Foxy, just my favorite character of the crew. A pirate fox, with a hook, - Vincent curves his right indicator into a hook. – an eye-patch, - his right eye pupil disappears. – and he sang the merriest songs I heard in me childhood. He´s also the reason Ah talk like a pirate.
-A "pizzeria" and a pirate fox? Right… - Paul says unconvinced as he crosses his left leg over the right one.
-I´m tellin` ya the truth. But to put it short, I made mistakes, a HUGE victory, then the greatest idiocy ever known. I died as a consequence of that. – Vincent stares at Paul with sadness. –My, yer really `im. – He whispers.
If Paul heard that, he wished not to pry on that wound.
-I found me self chained to the floor, no way out, only pain, in a dark place. I thought I wouldn´t get out but a lass in gold and purple appeared and gave me a second chance. But she sent me inside your head. I tried to get out but I couldn´t. One day the old fatso of your father…
-Don´t talk about Maurice like that! – Paul warns mad at Vincent.
-Fine, yer wish is ma command. MAURICE told ye how he found us and your control over me slipped. In a minute Ah´m sleeping, the next one I was watching ya from the window outside in the rain. From that point on, whenever I could I would slip out and have a look around. Saved yer arse a couplatimes. Back when those wolves chase ya in the woods? I scared them. The time when ya almost fell of the roof of the tavern in the winter 5 years ago? I grabbed your coat and got you only scratches. – Vincent went on and on.
Paul´s mind drifted off after hearing about that fateful day. The explanation allowed him to connect several dots, such as his luck for getting out of tricky situations and the shadow he saw when Maurice told the truth. It placed a big fire on his heart as his happy assumption that his real parents were watching over him burned.
-…and ye´ve met Bonnie.
-Sorry, who now? – Paul snaps out of his trance.
-You weren´t paying attention! Fuck me! – Vincent snaps, losing his pirate accent. – As I said, the Fazbear gang consisted in animatronics, walking mechanical metal animals, with suits on. There´s Foxy, whom I´ve told you of, there´s the leader Freddy Fazbear, a brown bear with a microphone, bowtie and hat, Chica, a… chicken, yeah! And last but not important Bonnie.
-I have never met any of those demons you speak of. – Paul shakes his head.
-Oh yeah? Then what do you think it happened that made you wake up in Maurice´s room? – Vincent asks with a huge toothed smile.
Paul remembers the dark silhouette outside the cottage in the previous night. So it hadn´t been an illusion. He decides to close his eyes to search for memories for it. When he does, Paul trembles in fear.
-So the demon last night was real. – He concludes, licking his dry lips and rubbing his temples.
-Paul, come eat with me. Who are you talking to? – Belle´s voice came from the kitchen.
A sigh.
-On my way.
Paul rises slowly and heads to the kitchen without rush. He doesn´t bother to wonder where Vincent had gone.
Lunch was quiet for Paul. So it was the afternoon, with Paul not wanting to see the outside. However, when one grows bored out of their mind, they go find an activity they consider great for them. And so Paul decided to sit on the bench on the back of the cottage, outside, to see the view the hill provided. The hangover was growing to be minor by the time he went outside, so zero problems with the idea. The birds were chirping harmoniously, the trees danced at the whim of the wind, the mountains at the far extreme of the valley offered might and a horse neighed.
A horse neighed?
Paul turns his head to the left suddenly, making pain attack his neck which he ignores when he recognizes the horse.
-Phillipe?
The horse trots towards him, constantly stomping the ground in nervousness. His rider is gone, and that is what strikes fear in Paul, who approaches Phillipe with the right hand raised. The horse allows the safety and familiarity of the touch to course in his veins and neighs. Paul checks the horse for clues in sight but finds none. He puts a hand in the saddle and senses it´s cold, meaning Maurice had been gone for a long time, probably in the night.
"The fool knows better not to go to the forest in the night. Science fair or not, brains comes first", Paul scolds mentally.
-BELLE! – He calls his friend.
Seconds later, she comes out of the house. She sees Phillippe and asks what had happened. By then, Paul thought, she had deduced that either Maurice changed his mind about going to the fair or had a setback and came back.
-Phillippe came just now. I´m admiring the sunset and I hear him neighing next to me. Maurice wasn´t with him so I´m hoping nothing is terribly wrong with him. – Paul informs her.
Belle looks from Paul to the path leading to the forest and to Phillippe. Then she runs back to the house and emerges wearing a hooded cloak, a lantern with a candle inside it already lit and a determinated look.
-Wow, you can´t go out there all alone. – Paul gets in her way.
-Papa´s in danger. I won´t sit here doing nothing! – She protests, contouring him.
-Let me at least go with you, Belle! – Paul offers.
-If anyone finds out we´re gone, they will ask questions. I need you to stay here to keep them away. Tell them anything. – Belle tells him already mounting the saddle.
-It´s gonna get dark any time now. It ain´t safe. – Paul tries to dissuade her for a final time, grabbing her left arm.
-Oh, Paul, please!
Belle had never begged once in her life, never for a new book, never to stay home alone. Belle learned with 8 years old how to get to the book shop, how to do her duties from since she was his leg´s height and more. She hadn´t begged to be the one to do everything alone, nor to get out of working. Now there was Paul, making her do something that didn´t suit her and that didn´t fit her.
-Fine. – It came with reluctance, but he concedes.
Belle allows her arm to slip past Paul´s grip and with her mind made up, she incited Phillippe to gallop into the forest.
Paul doesn´t let her out of sight until the trees and the sun become an obstacle, time when he strides back to the bench and sits on it, praying to God that no one will get killed.
His worries haunt him until he enters the tavern through the same door as before, the time of the day when he knows his new troubles would be waiting inside the building. Paul still suffers from the hangover effects but he had gone over the situation and concluded that, even with the headache, he had a duty that night. Monsieur Gerárd waves him hello when Paul walks past him and Paul waved without looking at him. The older man saw right through the reason for his grumpy face and wrote him a message in a napkin.
Paul began his work just as the costumers entered the tavern for a warm beer to fight the cold snowy night. He threw glances all over the room, trying to deduce from the general complaints and their activities before, what they´ll order. It was a skill Paul had been working on with Monsieur Gerárd: The older man knew what drinks to satisfy the people in various occasions and most men´s preferences; Paul had to learn it for himself, coming with unexpected successes and lucky guesses and a scold when he failed. Paul was getting there…
Paul went to the shelves behind him and searched them for whisky for the new-comers, frozen to the bone, and distilled beer for those who had arrived already but were still cold. He puts the bottles on the table and takes four beer cups in his hands. In them he pours the whole bottle of whisky and sets them right in front of four lumberjacks who were making way already to order. He took four more cups in his hands and filled them with the booze and set them to his left, waiting for pick-up.
The tavern came to life in a matter of minutes with the people realizing Paul was serving them, dropping their money on the counter and taking the drinks away. Monsieur Gerárd ended up joining the party, both as the bartender and a free-of-charges client. Using one of the said moments, he slipped the message on the napkin to Paul without the latter noticing.
The night went on with no incidents and Paul becoming gradually the object of many challenges. Paul took them all while keeping his annoyed hums to himself and focused on trying to discover a certain man his favorite drink and making the better mixes of drinks (not recommended, don´t try this at home). A success here, a failure there, and the costumers were happy. Paul lost track of time, his concentration on the job keeping him from paying attention to the napkin on the table and other stuff, mainly because the headache would come now and then, yet self-control kept the setback under control.
Well, almost…
It was only two times, but Paul couldn´t have helped it and would have felt the need to get a glass of water. In those moments, he had to stare at the gigantic chair made of hunted animal´s bones and skinned pelts near the fireplace where the angry Gaston sat in silent. His only company was Lefou, who kept trying to cheer him up despite the bruises he received as a response. Paul remembered Vincent and his joke earlier in the day. It left Gaston in quite the mood as anyone can guess.
Gaston didn´t leave the chair for a single moment, Lefou picking up the drinks for him. At one time he had asked Paul what had actually happened, to which he had answered with "Gaston got some sense the moment he was told Belle was leaving". Poor Lefou believed it and didn´t speak with Paul again.
It must have been around 4 am, almost closing time according to the tired Monsieur Gerárd, when a surprise came barging in from the door. Maurice comes in, shouting for help and saying Belle had been kidnapped. Paul vaults over the counter in aid for the old man.
-Easy Maurice, deep breaths. – He instructs. – Now, from the beginning.
-A MONSTER! – Maurice shouts, dropping to his knees, desperately. – A MONSTER HELD ME CAPTIVE IN A CASTLE! A HEDIOUS MONSTER WITH HORNS, CLAWS AND PAWS AND HE HAS BELLE!
-Well, he´s lost it. – Vincent says while examining him, materializing on his knees. Paul threw him a "shut up" look and turns his attention to Maurice.
-Maurice, please, breath! I´ll take him home! – Paul says.
-Do that before he makes us crazy. – A tailor jokes resulting in laughter all over the tavern.
Ignoring them, Paul picks Maurice up with an arm and moves him outside the tavern.
The snow covered the square, the roofs were white with the freezing and the falling snow that touched Paul made him shiver. He has to hurry or he´ll freeze. Maurice keeps shouting for help, pleading with Paul to do something, to rescue Belle from the monster and Paul has to try and calm him down over and over again. Vincent, apparently with enough rein on his tongue to see he wouldn´t need to comment his state, kept quiet.
At last Paul spots the cottage and thanks God. They get inside and Paul takes Maurice near the fireplace, lighting it with two rocks he had brought from outside. After he makes sure Maurice has at least gotten warmed up and that the fireplace didn´t need more wood, he asks him to tell the story.
-I-I-I-I was on m-my way to the scienc-ce fair when the damn w-w-wolves attacked me. I mad-d-de Phillippe run and w-w-we found a c-cast-tle. – He stuttered. – I knocke-ed but no one answered. I got in and e-explor-red the castle. I grabbed a cha- chandelier and then… they spoke.
-Who? – Paul inquired in a firm tone.
-The clock, the chandelier, the teapot, the cup… the house-keeping tools, the furniture, they spoke!
Paul assumed his fear and isolation must have made him see things.
-But how does Belle fit into all that? – He changes the type of question.
-T-the b-b-b-beast found m-me and l-locked me in a dungeon. I lost t-track of t-time b-but when Bel-le found me, sh-she was c-caught. She w-wanted me to leave but the beast would not let me. So sh-she took my pl-place. She´s trap-trapped in the castle! We ha-ha-have to rescue h-her!
Paul processes the information before leaving Maurice to his thoughts, heading to his temporary room to retrieve his things.
-I won´t stop ya in yer decision. – Vincent said sitting on the bed when Paul arrived. – I´d do the same.
-Thanks. – Paul says. He puts on a pair of dark gloves and changes his waistcoat for a furred jacket.
-But if ya endup dying, I canna help ya. – Vincent warns, beating the palms of his hands in his knees at the rhythm of a shanty.
-Not a trouble. Maurice was obviously overreacting. No one´s lived in a castle for the last fifteen years and if there´s someone actually living there, it´s probably some crazy man dressed in pelts. I´ll take a knife for precaution. – Paul says, picking up a dirty brown cloak inside the wardrobe and putting it around his back, lifting the hood to cover his face.
-Yer the brains. – Vincent says, heading to the window. He looks outside and says: -Thinkin´ better, take this mate.
The candle emanating the light inside a lantern makes Paul see with more clarity the object Vincent is offering him. The black rectangular object is unknown to him however.
-It´s a phone. If things get fucked up with capital F, press the big button and it´ll save yer arse in a heartbeat.
Paul takes the object and puts it inside a travelling bag that is over his shoulder. He wants to thank Vincent but he sees he´s gone now. Next, he goes down to the kitchen, puts some fruit in the bag and a piece of bread and heads out.
-I promise I will bring Belle back. – He shouts by the door.
Maurice had no doubt in that. He walked up to the door and used his invention to see Paul running, or attempting to, through the snow, heading to town. He decides he will be fine when he sees something that freezes him in fear.
A few meters behind Paul, a walking bipedal black fox stalked him.