Chapter 2: The Visitor

Officer Mael Claude* usually liked his job. He was well known for his fighting skills, his ice cold resolve that was often present, especially in the interrogation room, and his willingness to pull out a gun and shoot anyone who tried to point a weapon at him first. Though he was relatively young, he was respected, but not really well liked. He never socialized with his fellow police officers and his methods of interrogation kind of turned people off from him. These traits have led to the rest of the Fantasia Police Force giving him the nickname, "The Beast of the FPF."

Not that Mael cared. Frankly, he didn't like associating with people (at least most people) at all. It would be only natural that people would turn away from him in return. His friends were few, but that was fine, because those friends are the ones he knows he can trust, at least to some degree. Over the past few years, Mael found it harder to trust people. Humanity had such a vast capacity to commit crimes such as murder.

The Fantasia Murders proved that. Mael, being twenty-six, had grown up during the time where children he knew and grew up with were disappearing around Fantasia. School friends he would hang out and play with would be there one day, then gone the next. He remembered the fear he felt, as if some big, shadowy monster would come out from the dark to take him where the rest of his friends had gone. When he was sixteen the murderer had been revealed, shocking not only him, but also the entire town. It was so hard for Mael to accept that such a man, who had been kind to him during his childhood, was the person who had been picking off his friends over the years.

For a while—like many others—he was in denial, declaring that the man was innocent, but as time passed Mael found that he couldn't deny the evidence any longer. He was at first disillusioned, and then furious. Men like that murderer shouldn't exist, he kept thinking to himself. They had to be brought to justice.

Hence, why Mael Claude was where he was today, delivering justice to any murderer who tried to disrupt his beloved hometown.

Hence, why Mael Claude was willing to help the young woman sitting in the chair in front of his desk.

He blinked his icy blue eyes at the young girl before him. She wore a denim jacket over a shirt, a pair of denim jeans and a pair of sneakers. She had certainly changed since he had last seen her, which must have been about a year ago when she went away. Her blonde hair was shorter now, about chin length. Her sharp, heart shaped face was still soft, and the rest of her body still petite and feminine, yet she looked a little older and wiser compared to the year before. The worst part is that the past few weeks seemed to have aged her at least five years, what with the current circumstances. She looked as if she hadn't gotten any sleep, yet her green-blue eyes burned with determination and anger.

She lifted a hand and put a picture on his desk, right in front of him. It was a picture of a young thirteen-year-old boy with a crop of bright red hair and eyes just like her's, only they had more green than blue surrounding the iris. Smiling, the boy had winked to the camera, standing in front of a grassy mountain range, with both hands up making two peace signs. In the photo he was wearing a green T-shirt, jeans, sneakers and his signature green cap, which was put on flap forward.

Mael held the photo in his hand, feeling a slight foreboding and sadness as he stared at the familiar boy's face. The young girl in front of him watched him observe the photo for a few minutes, and then opened her mouth.

"Have you found him yet?"

Her voice was hard and restrained. Mael could tell she was waiting to yell at him, and if not him, then at anybody who would pass in front of her next.

"Tinkerbell, we are doing the best we can," he said firmly.

"Then why haven't you found him yet?!" Tinkerbell snapped, her eyes looking glossy.

Mael's eyes narrowed. "Because we have yet to find a witness that could give us information pertaining to your brother and his whereabouts."

"You have to be joking!" she choked out indignantly, standing up from the chair. "There had to have been some people who would know where he would go! Peter w—is popular in this town. Many of his friends could know—!"

"Tink, I've spoken with each of his friends and none of them knew where he was on the night he went missing. He didn't tell anyone where he was going. My guess is that Peter ran away from home," he replied, with no hesitancy in using Tinkerbell's childhood nickname. "I'm sorry."

Tinkerbell's eyes went wide and even glossier. Harsh breaths escaped from her mouth, her face became flushed and her whole body was shaking. She sat herself down in her seat, and put a pale hand over her eyes, her head bowed forward so her bangs covered the upper half of her face. Her shoulders started shaking as her breaths became shaky.

"Three weeks and four days Mael, that's how long he's been gone," she finally said after a pause. Her voice was shaky and soft, but not inaudible. "Before that, my life in the city was actually picking up for me. I had a job that paid enough for me to pay my rent. I was attending a college on a scholarship. I think I even had a date planned," she broke off, choking on empty laughter. "Then, three weeks and four days ago I got a call from mom telling me that Pete hadn't come home. Before that, I didn't get a call from anyone else, not even Pete. I still haven't gotten any contact from him."

She removed her hand, revealing that her eyes were now flooded with clear tears, though she looked absolutely furious. "Do you honestly think that he would run away and not call me by now?"

Mael breathed in and out, running a hand through his dirty blonde hair. He regarded her seriously and calmly. "Then there is only one possible—"

"Don't say it!"

Tink cut him off with a sharp cry that was raw with emotion. Her eyes had snapped shut to prevent more tears to flow down her cheeks, and both of her hands were on either of her ears, ready to block out Mael's next words. She then kept shaking her head side-to-side, whimpering out the word, "No," again and again. She drew her knees up against her chest and buried her head between them, sobbing as she kept whimpering her mantra.

Mael's eyes softened with a sympathy that was reserved to those he knew personally. He knew Tink because they grew up in the same neighborhood and because he had taken care of her as a kid. That being said, he also knew Peter Pan since the boy was a toddler, so knew how close the two siblings were. Mael allowed Tink to have her breakdown, not even minding that the soles of her shoes might dirty his chair.

"Don't you see, Mael?" Tink lifted her head to look at him, sniffling. "Peter just can't be dead. That would mean that it's starting up again, and we both know that it's over."

His eyes hardened. "Just because a child disappears doesn't mean that it's started again."

She scoffed, "Oh, yeah. That could be true in other towns, but not ours." Her eyes narrowed, misting over with a far off memory. "In Fantasia, no one feels safe anymore, even if it is over. No matter how hard our mayor tries, this town's dark past will never be erased."

Mael stood up and walked over to the door to his office, gesturing to it. "We will do what we can to find your brother Tink, so don't give up on us yet. Have a nice day."

Bitterly, Tinkerbell Pan got up and walked to the door. Before stepping out of Mael's office, she turned around and regarded him with determined eyes.

"I'll get you a witness, so don't think of him as being dead," she said. "I refuse to even consider that he's dead—not without a body. So don't you dare count him out yet."

Though he already doubted the boy being alive, Mael nodded his head and tipped his cap as Tink walked out. When he closed the door, he took a deep breath and sighed. Tired, he sat in his chair and put a hand over his eyes, lightly massaging the faint ache that was in the area. He shouldn't feel like this—like an old man. He was only twenty-six for God's sake.

He removed his hand and found his eyes going back to the picture of local pre-teen and troublemaker (all right, so he was only a minor troublemaker—nothing serious), Peter Pan. It truly was a curse to live in a small town, because one truly did know everyone. When living in a place like Fantasia, especially in cases like this one, one is reminded of how much is taken for granted. One minute, that baker you saw last week was where he always was, and the next week his corpse is found in a ditch. The same goes for teachers, friends, neighborhood children…

Mael turned around in his chair so he was facing his shaded window. He lifted one of the flaps of the shade and looked out at his beloved hometown. It was a beautiful day out—the perfect spring weather. People were greeting each other with smiles and laughter, and children were playing innocent games. Fantasia looked like the perfect get away from urban life.

The thought that somewhere, probably by the mountains, in the forest, a young boy was missing, made Mael feel uneasy and guilty. Tinkerbell's words came up in his mind, haunting him:

"Peter just can't be dead. That would mean that it's starting up again…"

Mael suddenly got the urge to go get a cup of coffee. Black and decaf, preferably.

"Wow, look at this place Lady!" Belle exclaimed softly as she observed the town from the Fantasia train station. "Doesn't it look beautiful?"

From inside her carrier, Lady whined. She didn't like being in closed spaces. She preferred the outside, where she could feel the ground beneath her paws.

Belle quickly realized this and unzipped Lady's prison. She crouched down on the ground so her dog could walk out. Lady zipped out of her carrier and shook herself, looking happy. She barked up at Belle gratefully, wagging her small tail.

"That's better isn't it," Belle chuckled as she clipped the dog's leash on her collar. She stood upright, holding onto her bags, and looked around the slightly crowded train station. "Now, let's go find Mayor Cogsworth. He said he would meet us here and take us to our home away from home."

She turned her head side to side until she saw a man in a suit holding a sign with her name on it. He was stout and had a very funny, thin mustache, but he looked like one who was very demanding and orderly. She walked up to him tentatively.

"Mr. Cogsworth?"

The man blinked. "Ms. Belle?"

Belle nodded, smiling slightly. Mayor Cogsworth also smiled and held out a hand in front of her. She gripped it and gave it a firm shake, her smile widening.

"Welcome to Fantasia, Ms. Belle," he said with a slight hint of an accent. "Now, I speak for everyone when I say that we are all very glad to have you here."

The way Cogsworth said it didn't sound like a miserly old man who just wanted tourism. Though he wanted some business for the town, it didn't seem like that was all that occupied his mind as a priority. That made Belle like him all the more.

"As am I, Mayor Cogsworth," she replied.

"Splendid! Now, shall we get you all settled?"

Belle nodded eagerly and followed Cogsworth outside, where his car was. It was a sleek, black Rolls Royce that had a leather interior. Cogsworth had offered to put her bags in the trunk, but Belle politely refused the gesture and put her bags in herself. As they started to enter the car, he eyed Lady with slight nervousness.

"It won't…shed, will it?" he asked, obviously trying not to show his dislike towards the animal.

Lady scowled, looking offended, while Belle blinked a little bemused. Then she smiled understandingly.

"Don't worry. Lady doesn't shed. And I'll keep her on my lap throughout the ride."

Cogsworth sighed, relieved. "That's good."

As the man drove her through the town, he spoke of Fantasia's various landmarks and shops. He also talked about the restaurants that were close by her rented house and of all the nice people within the neighborhood. He even mentioned a club where music of all genres was played and sung (Belle made a mental note to check it out later). However, Belle mostly blocked it all out, only listening to a few words and nodding at the right times. She kept looking out the passenger window, seeing all that the car drove past.

It really was a nice town. It had shops of all kinds—bakeries, silk, toys, jewelry and even one that sold books (Belle made another mental note to buy something from there; the shop looked gorgeous). In the town square was a brick mansion that had a clock at the center of its roof. According to Cogsworth, that was City Hall, where town meetings and discussions were held.

Then, as the Rolls Royce drove near the eastern part of town, she saw many beautiful houses—all Victorian style. There were even some homes that also served as a shop on the first floor. Surrounding the town were fields and mass acres of woods, and in the horizon there were several mountains whose peaks were topped with snowy white.

Yes, it really was a lovely place, Bell decided.

If she hadn't known anything prior to this, she would have denied the prospect of this place once being a home of a serial killer.

"Ah," Cogsworth cried, slowing down the car. "Here we are."

Belle blinked, coming back out of her musings. She looked out her window and saw a lovely Victorian style house that had a fresh, green lawn and a white picket fence that surrounded its area. In front of the windows were rows of dolls and other toys. Stroking Lady's back, Belle smiled as she saw the toys, but Cogsworth looked bewildered when he saw them.

He could have sworn that he…

Belle's eyes glittered as she stepped out of the car. "This looks beautiful Mayor Cogsworth."

Cogsworth, still a little confused (not to mention a little scared), smiled hesitantly. "I am glad you like it. I had it fixed for you just yesterday."

So why are the toys still out? He mentally questioned. Does this mean everything else is there too…?

Before he could muse on it further, Belle had put Lady down on the ground and gotten her things, carrying them up to the house's door. He blinked and quickly followed after her, already reaching inside his pocket to get out the key to the house. When he joined Belle on the porch, he smiled politely.

"Would you like me to show you around the house?"

Belle smiled kindly. "No, that's all right. Lady and I will be fine."

Cogsworth nodded in acceptance and bowed, and then he walked back to his car to drive off. Belle narrowed her eyes suspiciously, her mind racing. Was it just her, or did Cogsworth seem eager to get away from her?

Or was it away from the house?

Belle shrugged, shaking it off as unimportant. There really was no reason for one to fear a house, but whatever. It wasn't her business. As she opened the door, she tugged on Lady's leash and led the dog inside the house, not noticing how uneasy her dog looked.

Lady knew that something was inside this house, and she wasn't sure if she should be afraid or not. But if her human looked calm, then she decided she would remain calm also, at least until the presence gave her a reason for her to act.

Cogsworth shakily ran a hand through his combed hair, his face pale and dripping with cold sweat. When he was about a mile away from that house he stopped the car and parked it on the side of the road. He shut his eyes, yet he still couldn't get that image out of his mind.

Perhaps it was born from guilt? After all, the previous owner of that house had been a murderer—the man who was found out to be the ruthless killer of all those children from the Fantasia Murder Case, in fact. Sure, Cogsworth felt guilty of renting that house to the young woman, but it had to be done. The whole point of this new tourism movement was to urge his town to move on from the past and face a happier future. There were many people, mostly parents, who dwelled on the horrible child murders, and they were absolutely miserable. To give this town some new life would do it some good.

Besides, what Belle didn't know wouldn't hurt her. At least Cogsworth hoped that it wouldn't. She seemed like such a nice girl. And that probably added more to the guilt that had caused that image in the first place.

Then again, what if it wasn't guilt? Stories about that house had accumulated over the past seven years or so. What if those stories were true…?

No, Cogsworth shook his head, his eyes narrowing with determination. He was a rational man—probably too rational, in some people's opinions. He didn't believe in ghost stories and he refused to start doing so now.

So, with the vain comfort of his rationalizing, Cogsworth drove back to his office to finish some paperwork. He smiled and looked at ease at the wheel of his Rolls Royce, but that only concealed his inner conflict.

For he still couldn't get that image…

(of a clearly familiar little boy—who should not be there!—in the house's attic, which Cogsworth knew would have been locked, staring out the window and looking down into his eyes with such a sad, pleading expression)

…out of his head.

*According to this website I went on, the name "Mael" is French for "beast". I thought that since the Beast isn't really given a name (or at least I haven't heard his real name), then this would probably suit him. His last name is just something I made up.

Anyway, the point is, yes—Mael Claude is The Beast, and he will be paired with Belle, just because I love this Disney couple so much.