Here is the next chapter!
Somebody reviewed asking what happened to Diaval. As stated in the FIRST chapter, Diaval was stabbed in the chest by Stefan as a dragon, killing him in an instant.
Anyways, ready for another chance to win an extra chapter?
A character says something that they would say in the third movie. Tell me what that 'something' is and you'll get another chapter Wednesday. It should be fairly easy.
Enjoy.
The next night, more than an hour after the party had officially started, there was a sharp knock on the door. It wasn't clear what made this knock different from all the others, but different it was. Carlos leapt to his feet like a soldier suddenly called to attention. Jay stopped dancing with a posse of evil step-granddaughters. The Gastons looked up from the buffet table. Little Sammy Smee held an apple between his teeth questioningly.
Carlos steadied his nerves and opened the door.
Mal stood in the doorway. Backlit by the dim hall light, in a beautiful purple and black dress, she appeared to have not so much a halo as a shimmer. It took Carlos a moment to realize she got all dressed up because of her title as 'Queen.' He was half-tempted to bow, but thought better of it at the last second, knowing the other children would make fun of him later on in the night.
Eh, what the hell.
With a small smirk—which was very out of character of him—Carlos bowed dramatically as he greeted teasingly, "Your Royal Purpleness."
Mal snickered at his action. "Hey, Carlos," Mal greeted with a small smile. "Sorry it took so long to get here. My parents wouldn't let me leave until they approved of my outfit. Am I late?"
"Not at all," Carlos denied as he matched her smile unconsciously. "Come in."
"Excited to see me?" Mal bantered playfully as her smile grew slightly.
He nodded yes. Except, he wasn't excited, per se. Carlos was more happy than anything else.
Yet he didn't know why.
"Toad's-blood shots!" Mal shouted, leaping into the room as if she were just another guest even though she was the host. "For everyone!"
And just like that, the party began again, as quickly as it had stopped. It was like the entire room exhaled in one relieved breath. Mal could see their relief on their faces, and she didn't blame them. The way she'd been feeling, she needed something to distract herself from her realistic dream.
The crowd cheered, and toad's-blood shots splashed across the room by the cupful. Mal, in a show of generous sportsmanship, chugged a slimy cup right along with the rest, though she found it incredibly disgusting.
She circled the party for a few minutes. Mal pilfered a wallet from one of the Gastons for the fun of it, ducked under an overenthusiastic pirate swinging from the chandelier, and grabbed a mouthful of dry popcorn. She walked into the hallway and bumped into Jay, who was out of breath after winning the latest dance-off.
"Having fun?" he asked through the pants.
She shrugged carelessly. "Where'd Carlos go?"
Jay laughed and pointed toward a pair of black shoes poking out from behind a sheet covering the biggest of the bookcases. "Hiding from his own party. Typical."
Mal knew how Carlos felt, though she'd never admit it. Truly, she'd rather be almost anywhere on the whole Isle than at the party. But this was one of the only ideas she had that would help Carlos gain some confidence. She could see it start to work when he first greeted her.
"Where's Princess Blueberry?" Mal wondered as she kept an eye on the crowd. "I did a whole loop of this party, and I didn't see her anywhere."
"You mean Evie? She's not here yet. Nobody seems to know if she's coming or not." Jay shrugged. "Castle kids."
"She has to come," Mal insisted. "Carlos won't be fully comfortable with this party until she arrives. I can only stay for a couple more hours before I have to head home."
"What are you two doing?" asked Anthony Tremaine, Lady Tremaine's sixteen-year-old grandson, a tall, elegant boy with dark hair swept off a haughty forehead. His clothes were as worn and ragged as everyone else's on the Isle, but somehow he always looked as if he was wearing custom tailoring.
"Just talking," Mal retorted before Jay could say anything. "Do you want something?"
"Yes. To dance." Anthony looked at her expectantly.
She looked at him, confused. "Wait—with me?" He couldn't be serious.
"Well, I didn't mean him," Anthony said, looking awkwardly at Jay. "No offense, man."
"None taken." Jay grinned broadly, knowing how uncomfortable this made Mal. He found it hilarious. "You two kids go have fun out there. Anthony, make sure you pick a slow song," he said, as he slid away. "I have a step-granddaughter waiting for me."
Mal growled at the fleeing betrayer. "I can't dance with you," she denied harshly, "and I'm not going to."
"Why not?" he questioned. "I'm a good dancer."
"Because my father doesn't like you," Mal snapped as her eyes started to glow the more she got riled up. "And, quite frankly, I don't like you either because you are selfish and rude. For all I know, you could be trying to get close to me just so you finally get some kind of attention; a way for them to finally recognize your nobility. Too bad it won't work."
After a brief second she mumbled under her breath so Anthony couldn't hear, "I'm already in love with someone else."
With a clenched jaw and glare—since she discovered his plan—Anthony promptly stormed away from the fairy and went to ask Harriet Hook for a dance, who accepted with a delighted shriek.
About twenty minutes later, Mal was being a wallflower, watching with crossed arms as others danced to a fast beat song when she suddenly perked up. Out of the corner of her eye, she spotted Evie through the floor-to-ceiling window in the foyer. She was coming down the road in a brand-new rickshaw, her pretty V-braid gleaming in the moonlight.
Mal's eyes wandered over the room, resting upon Ginny Gothel, who stood in front of a familiar-looking door.
It was the door that led to Cruella De Vil's storage closet. Mal only knew it was there because she and Carlos had once accidentally come across it when they were working on a skit about evil family trees in sixth grade. Mal had been bored and had decided to go poking around Hell Hall. Cruella's closet was not for the faint of heart.
Carlos went white-faced when he saw where Ginny was heading. "Don't—" he shouted. He took off his sheet, almost tipping over the fabric in an attempt to get to the door before Ginny Gothel could open it all the way.
It slammed shut. Just in time. But Ginny crossed her arms stubbornly. Mal narrowed her eyes in disdain. What was that wannabe planning?
Ginny Gothel raised her voice. "New game! Seven Minutes in Heaven! And you've never played Seven Minutes if you haven't played it in a De Vil closet."
The words were barely out of her mouth before most of the evil step-granddaughters practically trampled her to get to the door. They loved playing Seven Minutes and were enthusiastically wondering with whom they would end up inside. A few puckered their lips at Jay, who was still dancing, oblivious to what was going on.
"Who wants to go first?" Ginny asked.
"Me! Me! Me!" yelped the step-granddaughters.
"First for what?"
Mal pushed herself off the wall as she moved her arms to the side. Evie had finally arrived.
And Ginny was going to do something to the princess for no apparent reason.
"Evie, sweetie! So glad you could make it!" Ginny Gothel claimed, throwing her arms theatrically around the girl and giving her a giant and fake embrace. "We're playing Seven Minutes in Heaven! Want to play?"
"Uh, I don't know," said Evie, looking around the party nervously.
"It'll be a scream," Ginny claimed. "Come on, you want to be my friend, don't you?"
Evie stared at Ginny warily. "You want me to be your friend? But I don't even know who you are."
"Don't worry." Ginny flashed a fake smile. "You will."
"But doesn't a boy go in here with me?" Evie asked as she was shoved inside the storage room.
"Did I say Seven Minutes in Heaven? No, you're playing Seven Minutes in Hell!" Ginny cackled.
The crowd around the hallway had scattered in fear after it was clear Ginny had no interest in having other people join the game.
But Carlos remained standing, his face as white as the tips of his hair. "Ginny, what are you doing?"
"Playing a dirty trick—what does it look like I'm doing?" Ginny replied sarcastically. "That 'Evilest of the Year' award is mine."
"Pathetic," Mal spat as she joined the conversation. "A simple party trick like that won't be enough to get you that award. If anything, you will be scolded by Lady Tremaine, your mother, and who knows how many other villains for such a childish prank."
Ginny Gothel merely glared at the fairy before she sauntered off to the dance floor.
"We can't leave her in there!" Carlos insisted in a panic. "Remember what happened to us?" He motioned angrily to his leg, which had two distinct white scars on the calf. "If Evie's unable to get out on her own, I'm going to have to clean up the mess! And my mother will freak out! We can't leave her in there!" he whispered fiercely, anxiety about Cruella's punishment written all over his face.
"Fine, go get her," Mal ordered, using the incident as an excuse to get him to be brave for once.
Carlos quaked in his scuffed loafers. Mal knew there was nothing he wanted to do less than go back in there again. He remembered all too well what happened to him and Mal in sixth grade.
There was a scream behind the door.
Mal raised an eyebrow in curiosity. "You need to learn to stand up for yourself and for others," she insisted. "If you want her out, you have to do it on your own. However, if something should happen where you truly do need help, I promise I will do what I can for you."
The chorus of snapping metal jaws rang through the darkness, steel blades against steel blades, as Evie ran screaming toward the back door of the closet. The traps slammed shut, BAM BAM BAM, one after another, one a hairbreadth away from her stocking while another almost caught her heel as she turned the door handle, left the room, and shut the door behind her,
But just as she thought she was safe, she realized she had plunged right into a dark, furry presence.
Was it a bear? A horrible shaggy monster? Evie twisted and turned, but only succeeded in wrapping herself deeper in the fur—dense, think, woolly fur—with two armholes?
She was trapped in a fur coat! Evie tried to shake it off, tried to shrug off her shoulders, but she was smack-dab in the middle of dozens of coats, all of them black or white or black and white, made of the thickest, lushest hides. This was Cruella De Vil's closet, her wondrous collection, her obsession, her greatest weakness. And those fur traps back there were her security system, just in case anyone got too close to the stuff.
Evie finally managed to untangle herself and push aside the wall of fur, just as a hand grasped her wrist and pulled her through to the other side.
"You okay?" It was Carlos.
Evie took a deep breath. "Yes. I think so. Do I win the game?" she asked drily, before looking around with a snarl of her nose. "Where are we?"
There was a lumpy mattress on the floor next to an ironing board and a washbasin, along with a vanity table that held a dozen of white-and-black wigs. When Carlos looked embarrassed, she realized it was his bedroom. Cruella's fur closet opened onto a dressing room, where her son slept.
Carlos shrugged. "It's home."
"It's not so bad in here, really!" Evie said. "I'm sure it's cozy and, hey, you'll never catch a cold. You can just use one of her fur coats for a blanket, right?" It was awfully drafty in the room: like her own home, Hell Hall wasn't insulated for winter.
Carlos shook his head. "I'm not allowed to touch them," he insisted, trying to put the furs back in order. They were so heavy, and there were so many of them. "I'll fix them later. She's not supposed to be back until Sunday."
Evie nodded. "This is all my mother's fault. If she hadn't tried to challenge Maleficent's leadership when they first came to the Isle, none of this would have happened."
"That's not what I heard." Carlos argued knowingly. "Maleficent stayed in her home for nearly a month and refused to leave. Hades went to check on her and fell in love with her on first sight. She eventually fell in love with him, they married, and had Mal. Your mother tried breaking them up many, many times over the years. Maleficent finally had enough of your mother's schemes when she involved Mal and decided to do something about it. Maleficent didn't want to get you involved."
Evie raised an eyebrow in curiosity. "How do you know that?"
"My mother is best friends with Mal's parents," Carlos answered with a simple shrug. "When we went home after your party, I asked my mother what that fiasco was about. She told me the story I told you, except she went into more detail."
Evie sighed softly. "Mal must hate me for what my mother did."
"Mal doesn't really hold grudges," Carlos argued once again. "Her parents taught her that a princess and future-queen shouldn't."
"Hey," Evie began softly in an attempt to change the subject. "I have an old comforter I never use. I mean, if you get cold and you can't. . . Never mind. Forget I said anything."
"No, no, bring it. I mean, no one's ever cared whether I'm warm or not," he said, blushing red as his voice trailed off. "Not that you care, of course."
"I certainly don't!" agreed Evie. "We were going to throw it out."
"Excellent, just consider me home your Dumpster. Do you think you might have a pillow you were going to toss out too? I've never had a pillow." Carlos turned red again. "I mean, I've had tons of pillows, of course. We have to keep throwing them away. I mean, who's never had a pillow in their life? That's preposterous."
"Yeah, I think we were going to throw away a pillow," Evie said, turning just as red as Carlos, even as a warm, sunny sensation had taken over her chest. She changed the subject. "Still working on that machine of yours?"
"Yeah, wanna see?" he asked.
"Yeah, sure," Evie replied, following Carlos out of the room toward the back of the house, away from the party. Carlos slipped outside, holding the door open for Evie. "Where are we going?"
"To my lab," Carlos replied, pulling out a matchbook and lighting a candle to lead the way into the weedy backyard.
They approached a huge, gnarled tree with a rope ladder. Carlos started climbing up it. "I have to keep it all in my tree house. I'm afraid my mom is going to get some big ideas and turn my chemicals into makeup and hair products."
Evie scrambled up the ladder behind him. The tree house was more elaborate than any she'd ever seen, with miniature turrets and a tiny balcony that looked out onto the dark forest below. Inside, the walls were lines with shelves of glass beakers, vials, and jars containing various neon-colored liquids. In the corner sat a small, old television with about fifteen different antennas strapped to it.
"What is all this?" Evie asked, picking up a jar of something white and snowy.
"That's from the Chem Lab. I was trying see if I could use that sodium polyacrylate as a sponge when mixed with water," Carlos explained. "But here, this is what I wanted to show you." He pulled out the wire-box contraption he'd been working on in class. "I think I got the battery to work."
Carlos fiddled with a few buttons and flicked a few switches. It sputtered to life, then died. He tried again and this time it emitted a high-pitched squeal before dying again.
He looked up at Evie sheepishly. "Sorry, I thought I had it."
Evie looked at the black box. "Maybe try connecting this wire to that one?" she suggested.
Carlos peered at the wires. "You're right, they're in the wrong place." He switched the wire and hit the switch.
A powerful electric burst shot out of the box, sending Carlos and Evie flying back against the wall and falling to the floor. The beam of light burst up toward they plywood ceiling, blasting a hole in the tree-house roof and up to the sky.
They both scrambled out onto the tree-house balcony and stared up at the sky, where the light was streaking all the way up, through the clouds, all the way to the dome!
The light seared through the barrier as easily as it had burned a hole in the tree-house roof.
Lightning flashed, and the very earth shook with a supersonic rumble. For a second they could see through the dome and directly into the night sky. The black box began to emit a strange beeping noise.
Carlos and Evie scrambled back inside, and Carlos picked up the box. It was making a sound neither of them had ever heard before.
And for a brief moment, there was something on the television in the room, which had burst to life all of the sudden. The screen was flashing with so many different scenes it was dizzying. Then the screen flickered and went dark again, and the box in Carlos's hands went dead.
Unbeknown to the two villain children, far off in the distance, deep in the heart of the forbidden fortress hidden behind a gray misty fog on the other side of the island, a long black scepter with a jewel on its end came back to like, glowing green with power again.
The most powerful weapon of darkness has awoken.