Hi everyone! I've been nice this time, no cliffhanger but be warned next chapter is going to have one, and probably a very nasty one so be prepared. Mwahahahahahhaahhahaha! My thanks once again to Trudi for checking the ol' grammar and for everyone in our little BatB writers workshops for all the encouragement and interesting chats! LOL I sound like I'm doing my final speech already. Ok this is a long one so get the cup of tea/coffee/hot chocolate/copious amounts of alcohol, whatever your thing is, and the biscuits. Ready? Ok on to the story:-
Disclaimer:- (just noticed I'm very scatty with these things) Basic plot-Disney. Words and waffle-Me
Tristan strode through the large hole that was now where the front door used to be. He was here. It was happening. Memories started to filter through the long-silent walls and into his psyche. He looked at the staircase in front of him and saw himself as an innocent ten year old walking down with his two companions. One, his sister--the girl he'd always looked up to until she had deserted him. The other, the boy who would become the man he was here to destroy. He remembered him as a quiet, shy boy who was happy to let his reluctant playmates to dictate his actions. Tristan had never thought much of him—he was a mere tag-along to otherwise precious moments he could have spent with his sister. A parasite, a forced friend—and on this particular occasion that he was recalling, he remembered that he and Camilla had wanted to see the secret room where their father often disappeared with Bastian's. Bastian had refused, shaking his head and staring down at the ground, and regretted it. Tristan, strong even then, had given him a Chinese burn and called him cowardly chicken — harmless children's games, but nonetheless Bastian had run off crying and clutching his arm. What a wimp! Shortly afterwards, the visits had stopped and the next thing Tristan had known he had been forbidden to go anywhere near the Beauvais house. Now, ten years later, he finally knew why. Thomas and Joanna Beauvais—slaughtered mercilessly by their only son, and now he, Tristan, was going to avenge them. It was funny how things turned out.
These were the thoughts and visions that preoccupied Tristan so much that he didn't notice that his followers had already started chaos. The sounds of furniture being broken and ornaments being smashed echoed all around him but did not penetrate his hearing. His hands were in his pockets gently gripping the objects within them as he marched up the staircase.
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The intruder stopped and stared straight ahead as more men entered behind him and immediately started razing the contents of Bastian's home, but Bastian didn't care. His eyes were trained on the man standing motionless mere feet from where he was hiding. This man, who stood as if he owned everything and feared nothing, and Bastian knew who he was. He had seen him many times through his binoculars, pestering and chasing after Bella. His Bella. Why was he here? Bastian carefully stepped back from the edge of the balcony as the intruder walked up the stairs.
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Tristan started opening doors, each time clutching his pocketed possessions and releasing them again when he encountered nothing but silence and shadows. He didn't know exactly what he was looking for or who he expected to see in each room. Every time he saw nothing, he added more features to the creature in his imagination. First there was a vague outline, then it had arms and legs, then it became huge and fierce,then it had his fathers face…
Four doors now, five doors, six doors and still nothing. Adrenaline coursed through Tristan's blood and with every vein it filled, it made him even more determined. He would find him and he would make him pay. Seven doors. And now a corridor, long and glittering black like a never-ending tunnel. Tristan strode down it as if he was strolling through the park on a summer's day, his eyes searching every inch of darkness, his hand flexing over his pocket. If he wasn't so intent on striding forward, he could have looked back and maybe he might have caught a glimpse, just a glimpse of his prey hunting him.
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Bastian was thoroughly enjoying himself. After all, there was nothing he liked better than the thrill of watching without being seen. The rush he got every time the man in front of him walked forwards was fantastic. It was like molten fire in his bones. It warmed and chilled him more with every step he took, and every step he took was perfectly synchronised with the intruder's. The corridor they were in led into another corridor that brought one back into the entrance hall. Tristan was going round in circles. Bastian knew his name now. He remembered Bella telling him and he was also surprised to recall that this was the same Tristan he had been made to socialise with all those years ago. The spoilt brat who had thought he could push him around and who sulked when he didn't get his way. What on earth did he think he was doing? Bastian turned and silently slunk off in the opposite direction.
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Tristan had come to a door and swung it open triumphantly, only to find himself back in the entrance hall looking down on the mess in progress. He blinked disbelievingly before grinding his teeth together in fury.
"Hey Tristan!"
A grinning and dishevelled Luc bounded up to him.
"Find him yet?"
This sentence was followed by a yelp as he was roughly pushed aside by the reddening and sweaty arm of his friend. Luc watched as Tristan stomped through one of the ground floor doors before resuming tearing the drapes off of the walls. Out of the corner of his eye, he almost saw a shadow slip after him.
A few angry steps later and Tristan was in the dining room and throwing over chair after chair. Burnt-out candles toppled and fell and the smell of home-cooked food still lingered in the air. In a rage, Tristan took out his knife and scratched all the way down the table with its blade, causing the beautiful wood to splinter and crack. It felt good but did little to calm him. He had just about had enough of this wild goose chase.
"Come on out and fight!" he bellowed.
He knew full well that he was being listened to. He'd sensed he hasn't been alone ever since he'd set foot inside the house but he'd been waiting for his pursuer to make a mistake. Now he was rapidly tiring of this ridiculous game.
"Where are you, you coward?" he screamed as he kicked the glass panels in the conservatory.
He stopped dead in the middle of his tantrum. Bella had been here very recently; he could feel it. It was as if her spirit was all around him, enveloping him in its mist. It made every hair on his body prick up. For the first time, he was afraid. He did not like the sense of uncanniness that washed over him. Nothing was ordinary anymore. Bella was everywhere; in the floor, on the ceiling, reflected in the glass on every surface. Suddenly he was not so keen to track down his rival. He knew now that it was not going to be an easy fight. But now he didn't have a choice. Now, someone was behind him.
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Bella was running again and to the forest that she had only been too glad to be rid of just minutes earlier. She took the short cut and was rewarded with a splatter of branches in her face. Her foot caught in something and she almost fell over in the mud. Grimacing, she knelt down and removed her shoes. They were far too dainty and delicate for a frantic midnight run through the forest. She mentally cursed the manufacturer for not thinking of such practicalities. Now she would have to run in her bare feet. She winced as a thousand tiny woodland things pinched her heels and stabbed her toes. She wanted to cry but the tears just wouldn't come. She'd done enough crying that night to last a lifetime and now her cheeks stayed dry as she saw the house and thought of Bastian.
Bastian…with his beautiful eyes and irresistible shy smile, with his strong yet gentle arms…She started to imagine the moment when she would tell him of her feelings for him. They would share the most amazing kiss and then he would whirl her around in his arms and they would live happily ever after. Bella allowed herself to indulge in this image because she knew it would never be that easy. There were a lot of things that stood in her way and she did not want to think about them before she had to. After all, this was no fairy-tale; this was real life.
As she reached the clearing, she was prematurely brought down to earth with a bump. The house was not as quiet as it should have been. It wouldn't be just the three of them as she'd hoped for. Now she could hear sharp unnatural noises wafting through the front doors. She'd have to find another way in.
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Tristan closed his eyes and focused on the soft but ragged breathing that came from behind him and tried to sense how far away it was. As he did this, it grew louder and he guessed it was coming from less than five feet away. Now…to figure out the best move…
Bastian crept nearer, deliberately breathing louder than normal partly to lure Tristan into a false sense of security but mostly just to try and scare him. He was so close now that he could see the hairs standing on end on Tristan's neck. He was afraid. Good. Now it was just a case of who would make the first move…
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Near the front of the house, as Bella tried to open a side door, Andre giggled as the flame on his lighter flickered, disturbed by his breath. Fire had always fascinated—it was so delicate, so fragile yet so destructive. The flame danced in the darkness, beautiful and deadly, as Andre held it to the corner of a carpet. It did not take hold at first. The fire merely licked the fabric, teasing it, caressing it with an ochre tongue. Then, all of a sudden, it seemed to jump from lighter to carpet, and the carpet began to burn, filling the air with a toxic yet mesmerising smoke. Andre stepped back and watched at it consumed and swallowed, his eyes dancing with hot glee like the flame.
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Tristan's fingers stroked the blade of his knife removing the wood chips that were still implanted in its teeth, and then they moved to the handle and moulded themselves into the metal. As quick as he was able, he thrust backwards with it in his left hand and rejoiced internally as he felt it connect with something soft, then he spun round and unable to control himself any longer leapt onto the stunned shape behind him with all his force. Bastian just had time to remove the knife from his side before his attacker threw him to the ground, forcing him to smack his head hard on the marbled floor before hammering down punch after punch onto his chest.
All Bastian could do while he waited for his head to stop spinning was tense every muscle in his torso so at least Tristan's fists were colliding with something hard. Then, as his sight and other senses slowly returned to normal, he let all his pent-up frustration and anger at himself, at Bella, at people in general and finally at his attacker fill him till he felt he could burst. With an almighty roar, he began to fight back. Tristan, who had been having a merry time slamming his fists into every available surface, was completely taken off balance when Bastian roared in his ear and so he allowed himself to be thrown backwards, feeling his spine hit the floor with a thud. Bastian scrambled to his feet, pure and unadulterated rage cancelling out the pain that was now spreading all over his upper body. With a shaking hand, he wiped away the blood on his chin from where he'd accidentally bitten his lip sometime in the furore, and Tristan, who was trying to get up himself, got a proper look at his opponent.
What he saw chilled him to the core. Bastian's normally handsome features were twisted up with hate. His shirt was torn revealing a red, pumped-up chest which was now quivering as he breathed violently in and out, but his eyes were the worst thing. As they bore into Tristan's own (which were now growing wider with every passing second) he felt his entire body go cold and start to tremble. He was terrified. More then he had ever been in his life. The fear he had for his father, which was itself very strong, was nothing compared to the sheer panic that Tristan was feeling now, for he was staring into the eyes of a beast, their green fire threatening to engulf him in their fury. This man was capable of murder alright.
"What do you want?" said the Beast, breathing heavily between each syllable. Tristan forced himself to his feet, every inch of his being working to disguise his terror.
"Bella. She's mine. She always has been. Leave her alone."
"I didn't force her to stay."
"You must have done. There's no way she'd have willingly stayed with a cold-blooded killer like you."
Bastian's breathing quickened.
"What did you say?"
Tristan, sensing that he had touched a nerve, continued.
"Oh yes…Sebastian…I know, you sad, pathetic loser. Do you think I'm gonna let Bella anywhere near you again? You killed your parents, you sick twisted murd…"
Before he could finish the sentence, he found himself slammed against the wall with his own knife at his throat, those terrible eyes millimetres from his own. Suddenly, Tristan had finished being heroic. He started to whimper like a newborn puppy.
"Don't hurt me! Please don't hurt me! I'll do anything. Anything!"
"Bastian, don't!"
A new voice appeared from out of nowhere. A face, tired, dirty and swollen with unshed tears, manifested itself to join the voice as it repeated its plea.
"Please, Bastian! Don't hurt him, I'm begging you! Please!"
There were a few awful moments of nothingness, then with a huge amount of effort and with Bella's cries echoing in his ears, Bastian released Tristan. With a grateful glance at Bastian, Bella ran to Tristan's side and checked him over. He didn't seem to have any major injuries which reassured Bella that she had averted the disaster for now. She turned to face Bastian but was met with the hard slam of the conservatory door.
No individual reviews this time cos there were flippin' loads but I would just want to say a big thank you and I love you all, and cliffhangers rule to MissyBlue, bellamegs, LumBabsFan, beautygirl, TrudiRose, Nuintincowen, jr.Journalist, BlackRosesBorn, Damian, RoxyFoxyChick, vixon, Hearts Aflame and Princess Persephone! (I'll write individual ones next time I promise!)
