A/N: Dun dun DUN! Another chapter!
THE END IS NEAR!
The hall was filled with painted faces. Faces, per say, of the painted on a canvas type. Knowing full well the entire map and plan of Buckingham Palace Basil knew that through the main painted hall he would go, next to the door on the left, and then station himself to the right whereupon he would pass the door of the basement and go to the balcony…
"Look out!" Basil heard Dawson cry, and before he would turn he knew it was the vicious hands of Ratigan that pushed him through the door at his side, which went to the basement, which he didn't want to go to.
The mouse tumbled down the stairs, pain and getting bumps and bruises from falling down head over heels. The detective soon noticed he was on the floor, the foot of the stairs, the place dimply lit and he would soon find out when he regained the capability of seeing straight.
This was not as he had hoped, however half unplanned the whole scheme was. Ratigan pushing him down the stairs, where he had only not as much memory of the whole blueprint already, was not good. He staggered to his feet, knowing he must keep moving; Ratigan meant to kill him, and with the fiend like that movement was key.
And he sensed him with him.
He move about through the winding, dark rooms, only looking back once to see Thomas, the girls and trusty Dawson make their way down the stairs.
"Get out! Ratigan's after me not you!" Basil called out to them.
"I'm not leaving you sir!" Dawson shouted.
"You need all the help you can get." Thomas bellowed with surprising bravery.
Elizabeth and Anette looked ready to fight. But where was Lauren?
"Well come on then! I know where to get out! RUN!" Basil screamed and ran, with the loyal friend following behind.
Being mice and rats, they have a keen sense of the dark. Combined with advanced smell and scent, not to mention hearing and sensations to be felt with their whiskers, they can manage their way through the darkness of London and throughout the world. However, it is best in such stuffy close-quartered places such as the lower levels of Buckingham Palace, that there be sight the most. And unfortunately their sight depends on only just a sliver of light available, just to see. Certain areas where Basil and the gang were running, like a maze, were pitch and so incredibly dark. Basil could not risk flipping the switch of a gas lamp or such. Ratigan's base senses of the hunt were more keen than his own. Save for, of course, the hunt of criminal activity. This differed from violent instincts caused by rage.
"Where are you running off to, Basil?" The familiar laughing voice came. Basil leaped out of the way where he sensed Ratigan was near, hence the direction of the voice. He heard Dawson behind him in the gloom, and Anette was against on of the walls crouching. The others were not far behind.
"The police, obviously, for you, fiend!" Basil snapped back as he broke into a run. There, up ahead, was the entrance to one of the courtyard gardens, his means to escape!
"Shall we go for a stroll?" Ratigan's voice once again was heard, just as he opened the door for Basil!
Basil saw the dark hand disappear as he, who was in a run, ran out the door into the lush and stuffed garden in the moonlight, whereupon he saw Ratigan step out behind him and lock the glass door!
Ratigan had the waking and mumbling Lauren tucked under his arm, his hand picking up a garden hoe at the side and jamming it across perfectly to bar the door. The gang's faces pressed against the glass, banging and trying to open the door, their cries muffled.
Basil had already darted away down the winding cobblestone path while Ratigan's back was turned for a few seconds.
"Good…" He purred, knowing Basil was hid.
"Wha?" The woman in his arms murmured. She was waking up, shaking her head, looking up at the rat sneering down at her…
"This is good too, Bunny." He purred and began to stride down the path, putting her in both arms and closer to him.
"What's good? Um…" Blinking Lauren remembered, along with the small bump on her head. "Ratigan! Let go of me!"
"Nope, not yet. I need you to act the bait dear. Shh, shh…" He covered her mouth with his hands, keeping her from struggling and screaming loudly. The cape covered her as he smuggled her to the designated spot.
Meanwhile, as the gang still heavily beat on the door to try to get it open, Basil was running amuck around the garden.
He had no clue what Ratigan's plans were. Ratigan was angry, Ratigan wanted him dead. No more games, nothing, after so long…so, he kept moving in the bushes and underbrush, thickets and flowerbeds, hiding and constantly moving.
Ratigan at times was so unpredictable, and with her under his arm, his love could get…
Wait! Basil stopped mid crouch behind a bush. My LOVE? She isn't my LOVE! I have none! No wife no lady no girl no client at my side! Like I need one! Like I need HER, that strong-willed girl with the golden hair like the sun…
He smacked himself, crawling on the grass trying to concentrate on hiding and striking Ratigan next he saw. Funny how it didn't feel he was stalking him…
Funny, how things were. Funny Ratigan was alive, and living as a petty criminal, swindling bar customers and indulging in things he never partook before. Poor liquor, cheap cigarettes, hanging around poor mice and a sleazy bar owner, not to mention having mistresses in the whorehouse. And raping them too, innocent women…
"James…" He sighed after climbing a tree. "What have you done to yourself?"
He remembered, all those many years ago, of how much of a gentleman he was despite the disposition of his father. How he told Basil in detail how he wished to be a great, honorable man, with wealth and prestige so he would never, ever associate himself with the rats of White Chapel again. He would be important and smart in a world run by mice, for very few at the time were there rats in the higher classes. This was what fueled Ratigan's purpose, different of course from Basil, but they were still ambitious and friends. Basil always wanted to be the best detective, the man who was smart and uncanny and could be known to help save the world and protect Britannia and solve royal mysterious throughout Europe and America when needed. Together they had studied, together they shared the dorm room, together they were the top in the class; James in mathematics, Basil in chemistry.
However, things changed after the first two years.
No time to think now! Basil corrected his flash-back behavior, concentrating on looking about the garden, looking for any sign of his enemy…
There. There he was, at the fountain yonder. There, in the middle end of the garden, the thick patch of peppermint plants obscuring most of the view, but it was Ratigan that was moving there and had lit that cigarette with the smoke rising high in the air.
Basil made his way down, cautiously moving closer, hearing mumbling words muffled by the water fountain's watery cascades.
And then he was there, at the fountain seeing what was happening. Ratigan was against the stone middle pedestal, a fancy column with a basin on top, water sprinkling down over the brim creating a halo, a shadow over him. He seemed to be chatting pleasantly with Lauren was tied to the post with a decent amount of cord. She was not happy with Ratigan smoking in her face, standing on the base that was just above the water level. He looked a bit wet, after all in a water fountain, seemingly teasing Lauren and twirling her hair, being all his usual character.
And then his eyes set on Basil's. And he smiled a most horrible smile.
A/N: :3 Well well well, cliffhanger!
I'm excited for the fight!
Shoys.