Note: Right, this is where everything starts to get weird, because here enters the ghost children. Well, at least one ghost child in this chapter. Not only might this chapter be weird, but it might also be a little confusing.

Chapter 5: The Boy

As he walked down the streets of Fantasia, he took the time to observe the people that passed him. They were all smiles and chattering away, blissfully oblivious to what had occurred. He smirked maliciously to himself.

Those blind fools.

It was just hours ago that he had dumped his treasure in his old spot, in the woods. Most likely, the body would be discovered until at least a month—then again, maybe never. The murderer's old spot hadn't been touched in ten years, ever since he got that stooge of a toy maker to take the fall. He guessed that the people had been too afraid to go there, especially the children. Even though he had taken his break at Geppetto's arrest, older children still passed down the whispered tales of "Monstro," as they had secretly dubbed him.

He chuckled slightly as he thought of Geppetto. He had felt slightly guilty sure, but it still gave him amusement to this day. The prosecution of the toy maker just showed how desperate this town could get when one teared down their walls of security. It showed how easily manipulated they could be—and he thrived on playing with people's lives.

He wondered if he would be able to find as easy of a scapegoat this time.

Smiling, the murderer continued on his way, whistling the tune one of his victims sang as he died…

"Are you sure you'll be okay?"

Belle sat up from where she was laying in the backseat and regarded Meg with a weary smile. Her head was pounding and her stomach was twisting up, making some sour bile rise in her throat, but Belle didn't need to have Meg know that.

"I'll be fine," she replied softly, although she wasn't really sure. She drank more Shirley Temples than she expected, and now she was feeling the consequences.

Hercules, who was in the passenger seat of Meg's car, looked at her over his seat. His blue eyes gleamed with concern.

"If you want, we can take you to the pharmacy for some painkillers," he said. "Seems like you're going to have one hell of a hangover in the morning."

Belle smiled at him. "Thanks for the offer, but I'll be fine, really. I just need some sleep."

With that said, she opened her door and stepped out of the car. She moved in a slight wobble towards Meg's window and looked at the woman with a grateful smile.

"Thanks for tonight, Meg," she said.

Meg smiled back. "No prob, Bells. If you need anything, feel free to call me." The two women had exchanged cell phone numbers before they left the café.

Belle nodded and gave both Meg and Hercules a small wave as the car drove off. The couple in the car waved back at her as they disappeared over the hill.

Hercules turned to Meg, quirking an eyebrow. "Should we have told her whose house that was?"

Meg shrugged. "Should we have?"

"I don't know," he responded slowly.

"She'll probably figure it out," she mused out loud. "I mean, she looks smart enough to make the connections herself."

Hercules thought for a couple of moments, and then hummed. "You're probably right."

Meanwhile, Belle watched Meg's car until it was a blur on the road, and then she started walking towards the house, trying not to lose her balance. She wasn't completely drunk, just a little tipsy. Still, it was enough to make her fall.

As she walked, she felt the weight of her little notebook in her pocket, and was once again solemnly reminded why she had drank much more than she could handle just a few hours ago. Belle was a little winded by the details Jim Dandy had given her about the child murders. He didn't have details as to how they were killed—only the police had those, according to him—but he did tell her the details that were covered in the newspapers. They were similar details to what Ariel had previously told Belle, but to hear it from someone who actually lived through the situation was eerily different.

So different that Belle felt some chills go up her spine.

She sighed as she opened the door. She passed the toyshop—her brain too muddled to stop and contemplate on a possible connection between Geppetto and the toyshop—and quickly headed upstairs, to the "home" part of the house. It was kind of like an apartment, only it had two more floors to it, the second containing the bedrooms and the third, the attic. The first floor, above the toy shop, had a kitchen and living room set.

Belle headed to the next collection of steps to get to the second floor, and walked straight to her bedroom to collapse on the bed. Once she did, her eyes immediately closed and she fell into a deep sleep, curling up on the bed.

She didn't notice that Lady was sitting outside in the hall, right in front of the stairway leading to the attic. Though no noise escaped from the other side of the door, Lady continued to growl lowly at the presence she knew was there.

And on the other side, a little boy was sitting down in front of a clock and waiting, like he did every night.

In Belle's dream, she saw the inside of what looked like a dark cave. It was cold and moist, with water dripping from stalagmites on the ceiling. From behind her, she could see some of the moonlight seeping inside, but she continued to move forward, towards the darkness.

Suddenly, the silence inside the cave gave way to many sounds of screams and sobs.

The sounds of children…

So…many children…

"STOP IT! PLEASE, MISTER, STOP…!"

(Thump.)

"LET ME GO! STOP IT! I WANT TO GO HOME…! FATHER!"

(Thump.)

"MOMMEEEEE…!"

(Thump.)

"LET ME OUT! LETMEOUTLETMEOUTLETMEOUT!"

The cries and screams were so many; they made Belle's head ache, as well as her heart. They were all sobbing out in pain and terror, those poor boys and girls.

The cries increased, all reaching a high pitch as dark, sadistic laughter, like that of a demon, joined in. It mocked them, laughed at the children who continued to cry for salvation, which they, sadly, didn't get.

Belle felt rage surge throughout her body. She thought she opened her mouth to join in the protests, even though she couldn't see what was being seen to the children.

Strangely enough though, Belle found she could also hear a faint "thump".

Then she felt something cold and wet poke her face, and then lick it.

…What?

The vision of that dark cave faded away, showing Belle only the dark image of the back of her eyelids. Since there was no light, Belle assumed that it was still nighttime. She must have been asleep for at least half an hour, at the most.

She moaned, feeling Lady lick her face with a frightening furor, and she turned her head. When she was facing the other side, Belle opened her eyes slowly, and wearily looked out the window.

Yeah, it was still late at night.

When she sensed her human was awake, Lady started barking. She hopped off the bed and ran to the other side, where Belle was facing. The dog jumped up and down, yipping away desperately.

Belle sat up and looked down at Lady drowsily. "What's wrong Lady?" she asked through a yawn.

But then she heard it, the sound somehow coming over Lady's barks.

Thump.

Thump.

A shudder quaked throughout Belle's body as her eyes warily shifted up towards the ceiling. Also hearing the sound, Lady shrank down on her feet, jumped up on Belle's lap, and started whimpering. Belle held her close to her body, gulping nervously in her throat as a revelation came to her.

The attic.

It's coming from the attic!

She bit her lip, trying to gather her courage. How did someone get in the house? She's the only one who had the key, and she knew she had it with her, so it couldn't have been stolen. Could they have gotten inside the attic through the window? But how did they get so high…?

Either way, Belle knew that she'd never get answers if she stayed inside the bedroom. She took a deep breath and hardened her expression that didn't reveal her fear. She gently placed Lady on the bed as she got up and walked out the door. She quickly went downstairs to get a frying pan and returned to her bedroom. Belle looked at Lady firmly as she grabbed the key Cogsworth had given her.

"Lady, I'm going to go to the attic to check, okay? So, stay here until it's safe," she ordered.

Lady gaped slightly as she saw her human walk out to her possible doom. Then she jumped from the bed and followed her closely. There was no way Belle could handle the presence on her own. If Belle was displeased with her disobeying, then she didn't show it.

The two of them, pet and master, walked down the dark hallway. Belle realized that she should have brought a flashlight with her, since she wasn't sure how to navigate the house in the dark yet. Luckily, Lady made herself walk ahead, leading Belle straight to the stairs to the attic.

When Lady led her to the stairs, Belle looked up at the attic door. The sounds from the other side hadn't stopped yet, but nobody stepped out. Belle released a held breath as she grasped her frying pan tighter in her hand. With a nod to Lady, she started her shaky ascend towards the attic. Feeling worry for Belle's safety, Lady followed her warily.

With each step Belle took, each stair gave a slight groan and creak. She guessed it was due to the age of the house. Still, despite the noise she was making, the noise in the attic didn't stop or waver. The person inside either didn't hear her coming, or they knew she was coming and/or didn't care to see her as a threat.

When she reached the landing, Belle licked her lips nervously, tightening her grip on her frying pan. Lady landed next to her, panting. She felt the temperature around Belle and her rise in their nervousness. They both at the door in front of them with fear. The door was made of mahogany wood, but its original luster had chipped with age. It had a carved ornate, cursive "P" in its center. The doorknob, once a sparkling molten gold, was now rusted and its gold painting chipped away.

Belle took the key out from her pocket and shakily inserted it into the lock on the door. As she chewed on her bottom lip nervously, she turned the key, faintly hearing the click of its mechanical working the lock loose.

Suddenly the sounds stopped.

Belle paused, wondering if she should push the door open or not. She glanced at Lady, who was growling lowly with her haunches raised, as if preparing to attack. In turn, Belle held her pan to her ear level and grasped it tightly. With a sharp exhale; she pushed the door open, bracing herself for an attack.

…Which didn't come.

Belle blinked her eyes once, then twice, thinking her eyes were playing tricks on her. She looked at Lady, who kept her eyes staring straight, not really looking surprised, but very wary at what they were both seeing. Then Belle looked again.

The attic looked more like a bedroom—a room for a child, as a matter of fact. There was a soft looking bed on one side. It was still covered in blue and white sheets, with a thick blue and white squared quilt covering it all. On the headboard was an imitation of the carved "P" on the door.

Near the bed was a nightstand that had a lamp that featured characters from a certain CGI movie that featured talking toys. A few feet from the bed was a wooden drawer that was covered with handmade toys that were of the same quality as the toys in the shop, if not better.

And, in the center of the room, was a little boy who was bathed in the moonlight that seeped through a sky light on the ceiling.

He looked to be no more than eight years old, with black hair and blue eyes, almost like a slightly older version of that puppet Belle had seen in the shop—only this boy was wearing denim overalls, a checkered shirt and a pair of boots. He was looking at her over his shoulder, his expression blank as he blinked wide blue eyes. Belle was a little taken aback by the look in his eyes. It was almost as if…

Almost as if he had been expecting her.

Rather than being afraid, or startled, the boy sent her a calm smile.

"Hi," he greeted, his voice jovial.

"Uh, hi," Belle hesitated, lowering her pan and putting it on a nearby shelf. She must have looked like a crazy woman, holding it ready to attack. "Were you…the one making that noise?"

The little boy turned around, so his front was facing her, and nodded. His smile was still in place.

Belle felt relieved, but took note of Lady's slight hostility towards the boy. Animals sensed some things that humans couldn't. So, she forced herself to remain wary, even though she doubted a little boy could hurt her.

"What were you doing?"

The boy's smile widened. "Dancing."

She quirked an eyebrow. "Dancing…? But why…?"

As she trailed off, the boy tilted his head to the side, looking confused. His blue eyes stared straight at her, almost like he wanted to stare through her, it seemed. At least, that's how it felt to Belle.

"…Why so late?" Belle finished weakly.

…And why here? She added softly in her mind. What was a little boy doing in the house she was staying at, and alone, to make matters stranger?

"Oh," the boy chirped, understanding. "I'm waiting."

"Waiting…? Waiting for what?"

"…Not, what. Who."

"Okay, waiting for who, then?"

His face brightened. "Oh, my best friend, Lampwick! He's supposed to come here, so he could take me to into the forest, where Monstro is supposed to live," he added, pointing outside the window in his room, toward the forest near the town.

Belle hummed and quirked an eyebrow. "Monstro? Never heard of it."

The boy's eyes widened, almost comically, in shock. "You've never heard of Monstro?!"

Belle shook her head, shrugging. "I just came into town today," she said, and suddenly realized something. "Hey, wait a minute, what are you doing here?"

The boy's eyes blinked calmly, as if the anwser was obvious. "I live here."

"Wait, how can you live here?" Belle asked. "Mr. Cogsworth told me that no one owned this house anymore."

The boy smiled gently. "Because he doesn't know I'm here, silly," he winked mischievously, putting a finger to his lips. "So don't tell him, okay?" he whispered.

"…Really?"

He nodded.

She quirked an eyebrow incredulously. The kid must either be playing a joke on her, or she had entered another drink induced dream. Either way, Belle decided to go along with it. After all, what harm can come from harmless pretend?

"Okay, I won't tell," she submitted. "But what are we going to do now?"

The boy beamed up at her. "I'm more than willing to share my house, so you can still stay here. I only ask that you keep the toys out. You know; the ones downstairs. Old Cogsworth always puts them in boxes, and it's always hard to put them back in their place."

Belle nodded, though she still thought it was a game. She walked up to him and crouched down to his level.

"So you're the one who put those toys down there," she said kindly. "You've been doing a good job at keeping them neat."

The boy flushed at the compliment, smiling sheepishly. "Aw, gee. It's not that great. My father is the one who taught me to clean, so everything I know was from him."

"Your father must be very proud of you."

He froze at that statement. His eyes got wide, glossy and unseeing, and his entire body got tense. Belle frowned, knowing that she said the wrong thing, but not really knowing why he reacted that way. Gently, she put her hand on his shoulder, breaking him from his inner musings. He blinked at her with dull eyes, and then lowered his head.

"Sorry, it's just," he paused, his soft voice getting thick. Belle squeezed his shoulder encouragingly, not intending for him to finish the sentence, but for him to get enough strength to break him out of his rut. Still, he told her anyway.

"My father…he's dead."

Belle should have made the connection, and, had she been physically able, she could. There was a vague prickling in the back of her mind that told her to figure out the truth. But, whether it was due to the alcohol or her still feeling tired, Belle ended up ignoring that little prickling.

She bit her lip. "That must be hard for you. I know it would be if I lost my father at your age."

The boy looked at her, his eyes making him look older than his body showed. "Thank you," he said softly.

Belle nodded. "What's your name?" she asked gently.

"Pinocchio," he smiled. "What about you?"

"My name is Belle," she answered, and then nodded to Lady. "She's my dog, Lady."

"Belle. Lady," he repeated, and looked behind her, at the dog, which seemed to be glaring at him. "It's nice to meet you two."

Belle nodded, and waved Lady over. "C'mon girl, it's okay."

Lady glanced first at her human, then at the presence. Instinct told her to run, to be safe, but it also told her to stay by her friend at all times. In the end, the loyalty instinct won over the run one. She approached the two of them, keeping close to Belle. She looked up at Pinocchio, who looked back down at her with a smile. He lifted his hand, making Lady brace herself for the coming blow…

…Only to feel soft fingers stroke her furry head.

She looked up at the boy and felt a little calmer. Perhaps Lady was wrong. This presence was certainly not human, not like Belle—but that didn't mean that it was dangerous to either her or Lady. The Cocker Spaniel whimpered in satisfaction and leaned into the boy's gentle pet.

Pinocchio smiled down at the dog, looking content. "She likes me. That's good," at Belle's confused face, he added, "I thought that she would maul me or something."

Belle smiled. "Lady is just worrisome and protective around strangers, so don't worry about it," with humor, she added, "Though she turns into a little chicken if you bring cats into a room."

Lady whined and glared weakly up at Belle. Pinocchio laughed, while patting her head comfortingly.

"That's too bad," he said. "I had a kitten once. Can you imagine the clash if these two ever met?"

"Dear, God, please let's not."

The boy and young woman laughed softly while Lady put her nose up in the air and strutted out of the room, her bushy little tail in the air. Pinocchio watched her, looking worried.

"Will she be okay?" he asked.

Belle waved her hand, flippantly saying, "She'll be fine. She can be such a drama queen sometimes."

Pinocchio hummed, looking satisfied with that. As he looked like he was zoning out, Belle couldn't help but observe him. Deep down she knew that she should have voiced how mature the kid was being, talking to her, but she pushed it aside. There was some mystery behind this child, and it would be a bore to get the answers so quickly without some sport in it.

Before she could further contemplate on him, she heard a clock in the room start going off. She looked towards where the sound came from and saw that it was a cuckoo clock that was marking the hour, which was eleven o' clock. Belle heard Pinocchio let out a soft gasp and she looked over at him.

"Sorry, Miss Belle, but I have to go," he said, his voice apologetic. He nodded towards the window. "Lampy's waiting for me."

"Oh, that's okay," she said gently. "We'll see each other some other time."

Pinocchio smiled and said cryptically, "Yes, we will."

Oblivious, Belle nodded and stood up. As Pinocchio made the sounds of getting ready to leave, she walked up to the window to look out it, just to make sure the person he was meeting was someone who seemed responsible. She didn't want to risk the chance of the kid getting hurt. After all, he was such a nice boy. But there was a tiny problem…

No one was out there.

"Uh, Pinocchio," she called, not turning around to face him. "I don't see anyone."

"Don't worry," he answered back faintly. "He's there."

Belle waited a few more minutes at the window, but no one showed up. She felt a slight ounce of pity for the boy. It seemed like he had been ditched. She turned around to, once again, to tell him that there was nobody there, but was shocked to see…

…He was gone.

"Pinocchio?" she called as she glanced around the room, only to find that it was empty. "Pinocchio!" she called again, a little worried.

He couldn't have gotten out of here that fast…

Could he…?

"Miss Belle!"

Belle froze, her eyes widening. She slowly turned around to face the window, where she heard Pinocchio's voice calling her—from the outside!

How did he get out there so fast…?!

She shakily looked out the window, seeing the boy on the grassy lawn, still alone, with no companion, Lampy or otherwise.

He smiled up at her and waved. "I'll be fine with Lampy, okay Miss Belle? So don't worry!"

Who is Lampy?! His imaginary friend? Because there is no one out there, Belle thought to herself. She broke from her musings when she realized that lone Pinocchio was skipping away from the house, going towards the forest, where he and "Lampy" were supposed to go.

"Pinocchio!" she called, a feeling of dread bubbling in her chest. It wasn't safe for a child to go out at night, even if the town was as nice as it looked. He could get hurt.

That, and she just had a really, really bad feeling.

"PINOCCHIO!"

The little boy either was too far away to hear her, or he decided to ignore her, because he didn't respond. Belle clenched her fists as she tried to think of what she should do. She wanted to follow the kid, just to make sure he didn't get hurt, but she was afraid. Who knows what could happen to either of them?

When he eventually became a speck in her eyes, Belle came to her decision. She quickly walked away from the window and rushed all the way down to the shop. She went into a closet and luckily fished out a flashlight. Then she ran out the door, running in the direction she saw Pinocchio go.