Belle struggled out of his car, trying to hide her pain as she struggled with her suitcase. Behind her, two hands pulled her away. She looked at him, he was laughing at her battle with a inanimate object.
"I think you had enough challenges for tonight, dearie. They walked side by side to his porch, leading to a big, three story Victorian home. He opened up the door stepping to the side. Belle walked in and couldn't believe what she saw; so many random antiques, nicely tailored furniture, maps along the wall…but no t.v.
"Come follow me dearie," he requested. He led her up the stairs, into a large hall. They went to the bedroom in the corner.
Mr. Gold went over to the bed and grabbed the sheets back, then propping pillows. Belle went into the bed, he tucked her in.
"I will go get you some tea, and some pain killers." Before Belle could say anything, he was gone.
Mr. Gold came back in with his things. She was drifting into a sleep. "Well, I guess I will leave her to sleep." He crept away, then heard her.
"Mr. Gold…don't go. Where are you going?" He turned around with a smile. He sat on the bed, straight, against the head board. He grabbed the tea and pills. Belle took the two pills and washed it down with some tea. She tried to sit up as best as she could, so she could lean into him. He put his arm around her, simply stroking her hair.
"My Belle…you're safe now." Within 20 minutes, she was sound asleep. He carefully laid her flat, then kissed her on the lips. Then went to his shed. It was time to show a certain someone not to hurt his precious Belle.
Mr. Gold opened his combination lock, then flicked the switch on the wall. He got what he needed, some rope off the wall, a switch blade and roll of duct tape out of the drawer, and a box filled with non latex gloves. He reminded himself to grab lemon juice out of his fridge, and his steel toed boots on his way out.
Mr. Gold went up to his room, carefully not to wake bell, she was the last person that needed to know where he was going. Mr. Gold opened up his walk in closet. Hymmm, black shirt…nooo, brown…no…the violet one maybe…no, ah, this is it! He took out a gray dress shirt, with a burgundy tie. This was the gray shirt, only worn on special occasions, and this was a very, very special occasion.
He swiftly sneaked her phone out of her purse, sliding out the keyboard, looking for Gaston's number. "Oh, good, she programmed it. My dearie, you are making this too easy. I was hoping for a challenge." Quickly, he sent a text message to Gaston.
"Come meet me at the old hunting cabin in the forest, Mr. Gold is asleep. Let's spend some time together, be there in one hour. No earlier, no later. Love you, Belle."
Mr. Gold deleted the outgoing message after he sent it, then blocked the number in her phone. After this, he won't be bugging Belle anymore. Mr. Gold smiled knowing he would have her all to himself. Just as it should be. He checked his bag once more.
He pulled into the long driveway, shutting off his Cadillac. He sat up in the cabin, in a corner, reading a newspaper by candle light, so calm, so collective, emerged in darkness. After twenty minutes, He saw a figure emerging up the path, he blew out the candle. He heard the door slam, and footsteps belonging to a stocky tall man. "Looks like my company has arrived, for a stupid boy, he sure follows through on commands."
"Belle," Gaston whispered. Mr. Gold tapped on the wall, Mr. Gold hopped down on the floor. Gaston turned to see "her." Instead he saw though the moon light, it was Mr. Gold. Then he saw a crowbar slam at his head then blacked out.
Mr. Gold got started on Gaston. Ever so gracefully, he pulled his arms over his head, tying tightly, securing the rope around his wrists, being sure not to do it too loosely. He did the same to his feet. Mr. Gold let out an amused, sinister laugh. Oh, how he was having such a good time! He then cut off a 7 inch strip off the duct tape with his switch blade. He put it on Gaston's mouth. Being the organized man Mr. Gold was, he set his switch blade to his right, , made sure his steel toed boots were securely tied, then put the lemon juice by his switch blade. Then he lit his little candle and continued with his paper, sitting on a random chair her found in the corner earlier.
Gaston woke up shortly, then started screaming. It didn't bother Mr. Gold one bit. It was muffled was the tape after all.
"Sssshhhh," Mr. Gold said, while putting on some non-latex gloves.
"Let's not make a fuss, shall we. I simply want to talk…then maybe kill you." Mr. Gold got up, he didn't need his cane this time.
"See, I know…you hurt my sweet , little Belle. She was pretty shaken up, he started. Pacing small steps around Gaston.
"It's funny…hold on." Mr. Gold got out a cigar, lit it up and had a few puffs. He then continued.
"It's funny how you think, it's okay to beat a woman. Such, divine creatures they are, they have more emotions, they give life…well, we help, but in the end, they come out with the final product. It's such a shame your mother sacrificed her's, for your sorry ass," venom in his voice.
"What was her name….Mary? Oh yes, Mary. Such a lovely woman. Made the best cakes, I would look forward to it every year, you know…the farmers market? He cleared his throat.
"See Gaston, were going to have an agreement, not sure if you can live, it's entirely up to you." Mr. Gold knelt down. He took his switch blade out, the uncapping the lemon juice. Mr. Gold lifted the switch blade to Gaston's arm. Gaston's eyes, full of tears bulged out. Mr. Gold cocked his head to the side, barely blinking, trying to figure out where to slice first. He took Gastons arms, knee in his chest to hold him down, digging four vertical cuts into the inner parts of his arms. Gaston did his best, and gave his all, to endure the pain. He was immobilized. He couldn't escape no matter how hard he tried. Mr. Gold knew how to tie some pretty good knots. After he did his 8 carvings into Gaston's arm, he stood back up, looking down at him, with his hands elegantly clasped behind his back…thinking. He needed to take a break. Taking out the business section of his newspaper, he sat back onto the chair. Gaston wriggled and let out muffled yells, probably profanities.
Eyes still on his paper, he spoke. "Now, now, let me take a break. Must you be so impatient? Gaston struggled more, almost amusing Mr. Gold, flopping around like a fish out of water. After a few minutes, Mr. Gold became annoyed at his victim's antics.
"I'm telling you boy…this is your last warning. You just can't wait, can you? Must you have to ruin my fun?" He looked down at him, with a sinister look, evil in his eyes, a smile you'd only see in your worst nightmares, the most emotion Gaston seen out of him since he was gagged and bound.
Mr. Gold sighed as he neatly folded his paper back into fourths. He reached down and grabbed the lemon juice, and his switch blade.
"More cuts, ok then…If you insist," he said, as if everything was normal.
Mr. Gold got back on the ground, knee back on his chest, other foot for balance, slicing in two more cuts in his arm. He yawned, sat back on his chair. Gaston whimpered, tears in his eyes, begging for mercy with his muffled wails.
"Sssshhhh," Mr. Gold said. He kept wailing, and moaning, and crying. Tsking Gaston, he rose up, standing over him once more.
"Well, aren't we a little feisty?" He kicked his boot as hard as he could, into his ribs. Gaston let out a scream.
"No…hush, you!" Leaning on his cane.
"When I was a your age, we got any sort of whiff, a girl we cared about got slapped around, we had a field day teaching the offender a lesson, we would have hell of a good time. You younger people are so soft now a days.
Mr. Gold grabbed the lemon juice, spilling it carelessly on his Gaston's open wounds. He reacted with a miserable, muffled scream.
He knelt down, watching with joy, how his victim, his prey was in such torment.
"Do you like that pain…I planned it out just for you." He let out a small giggle.
"Gaston, isn't this fun?" He still moaned in pain, so much pain, he could barely stay conscience.
"What's that, you want more fun? Well then…we shall have more fun." He picked up the lemon juice again, squeezing the bottle, aiming in his eyes. He smiled as he heard his victim screaming as if he suffered the pain of a slow lingering death, and the fact that he wet his pants.
Mr. Gold knelt down, cutting one deep line across the veins on Gaston's wrists. Really checking, to be sure, the blood flowed out. Gaston still flopped around like a dying suffocating fish. Mr. Gold was enjoying every moment of it.
He grabbed his boot, kicked him hard as he could, 6 times in a row, until his victim fell limp. He left. He job was done. He untied Gaston, putting everything back in his bag. His motive was to make him look like he slit his wrists, he was so distraught that he cried non stop, thus the red, swollen marks around his eyes, and bleed to death…he had succeeded.