Hello... Due to the numerous reviews... I am keeping my promise : ) Here is the long awaited mob vs ordinary household chapter... Unfortunately, this might be the last chapter I put out for a while... My exams are out in about a week and I'm also trying to apply for an arts college so passing these exams is quite a big deal for me... Do not fret... I will not abandon this fic... And I'll do my best to see if I can possibly squeeze out a chapter just before the exams start... but that really depends on how fast I can memorize my eight chapters of biology... sigh... Thank you all so much for the reviews, follows and favourites :) You are all wonderful wonderful people

It took a moment or two before the villagers could actually comprehend what on earth was happening. They had been expecting a beast... Some snarling creature to lunge at them and they could simply rely on Gaston to shoot it... But objects that were capable of movement and were now were attacking them? That was almost as terrifying. Guinevere watched in disbelief as the candlestick who had instigated the attack try to set fire to Bayard's pants and a clock armed with a pair of scissors chase Marc around. She was aghast... Her army was being defeated... By simple household objects... This was beyond strange... It was downright humiliating... Gritting her teeth, she grabbed Gaston and retreated back into the shadows...

Lumiere cried out in spirited glee as he hopped nimbly away from a man who attempted to grab him, strategically, he ducked behind a coat rack...a coat rack with a mean punch that sent the poor man reeling with a couple of his teeth missing His last thought being...

"Did I get hit with a hammer?" before fainting. Most of the poor villagers fared much the same... In one corner, a mop had violently wrapped itself around Quincy's head and was now forcefully dragging him backwards out the large doors of the castle. In another corner, several of the pans were gleefully clanging themselves together as two youths tried and failed to grab hold of their handles. With coordination, they slammed the two youth's head together causing them to yelp in pain and retreat in terror. A poor soul had found himself intertwined between a bed sheet and when he had tried to wrestle it off... It tied him up in a bundle while a coat rack picked him up and threw him out the front doors where he and several of his comrades happily stayed. THEY HAD NOT SIGNED UP FOR THIS...

Cogsworth surveyed his army with a satisfied smile and his mustache ticking cheerfully. They were actually winning this fight! Or so he thought... Outside, a handful of villagers were actually succeeding in defending themselves against that first bizarre onslaught and were now more hell bent than ever to restore their shattered dignities and show these magical objects that they were not to be trifled with. After all... They were mere objects after all... And in what kind of universe could objects defeat men? Such things should not even be spoken of! And the men were going to make sure these objects learned that.

"Onward!" one shouted and they charged. They may have been vastly outnumbered considering their ranks had shrunk to half their earlier size, but they were filled with new determination and their battle plan? Turning their enemies against each other... Quickly, they grabbed onto some of the objects that ran towards them and turned them into tools of their own side's destruction. Lumiere was one of these unfortunate objects... When he attempted to torch one of the men who had gotten his hands on a chair and started using her as a battering ram, the man had grabbed him and cleverly flung him into the pile of brooms and mops who had been defending the hallway. Lumiere cried out in terror as the dry straw of the brooms' feet caught fire and as the brooms swept frantically, trying to put themselves out. The villagers grabbed the distracted sticks, now burning like torches, and held them aloft, gleefully using them to stab any poor, inflammable object that tried to attack them.

"Regroup! AND SOMEBODY GET THE BUCKETS!" shouted Cogsworth. His shout got the attention of anyone not already riveted to the scene and, more importantly, it galvanized every object that could hold water into action. They dashed outside, where rain was a beginning to fall, and filled themselves as high as they could go before mounting the counter-attack. Dousing that small group of villagers with water before leaping on them as they slipped and fell. However, what set the cherry on the icing was when Madame de la Grande Bouche jumped off from the second floor of the main hall and with a fearsome bellow started tackling the villagers head on...

Upstairs... Angela groaned as she pulled herself up, her head spinning like a top.

"What just happened?" she thought in confusion as she surveyed her empty bedroom, pretty certain that her servants had all been standing around her, blocking the entrance to the door, preventing her from facing the mob alone... The mob...Oh God... How long was she unconscious for?

"They didn't... They couldn't have!" Angela thought in panic, as she heard screams of anguish coming from the lower floors and the image of the broken and burnt remains of her servants entered her mind. Without daring to waste a second, she ran towards her door and pulled on the handles, yelping in surprise as they refused to budge... Cold sweat started to from on her forehead... It was locked from the outside...

"No no no oh God no..." she thought worriedly as she tried not to think about the carnage outside. Her servants didn't stand a chance against those men... They were all going to die... and it was all her fault! Taking a few steps back before lunging violently against the door. She growled in pain as she only succeeded in bruising her shoulder. Snarling, she slammed her fists against the door and proceeded to scream out in desperation.

"LET ME OUT!"

"LET ME OUT!" Beau screamed for what must have been the umpteenth time before using all his twenty-two years worth of strength to lunge at the cellar door and falling on his face once again. Maurice winced as he caught sight of his son's bloodied knuckles...

"Beau! YOU HAVE TO STOP!" he commanded, grabbing his son as the young man attempted to lunge once again.

"Stop..." he said gently and letting go slowly as Beau's shoulders started to tremble. With a sigh, he watched as his son slump down in a corner and lay his head against the window... Those brown eyes full of unshed tears.

"What the devil is going on..." Maurice thought. Beau never cried... So what on earth could possess him to do so? Could it be the beast... Did his son really care for that monster so much?

"You really care for this... Angela don't you?" he asked softly.

Beau buried his face in his hands.

"More than anything in the world..." he replied truthfully. "Oh father, if only you had gotten the chance to get to know her... properly...I know you must hate her for throwing you in the dungeon... But she's actually quite sorry she did it... She's actually really darling once you get to know her... The REAL her... she's smart and she likes to read and she's quite the amazing dancer... She made me dance..."

"She made you dance?" Maurice gasped in mock surprise.

"Yes... And it was wonderful..." Noticing his father's raised eyebrow, Beau sighed.

"I know I must sound... insane... But she really isn't a... bad person... She was just lonely and scared... So incredibly scared... It sounds strange I know. I don't know the whole story but she had been abandoned and hurt by the people she loved as a small child and I guess from there... she just forgot how to treat people... or just became unwilling to trust anybody ever again... and who can blame her? If you put that aside, she's an amazing person really and... I'm sorry... I'm rambling aren't I?"

Maurice blinked at the sudden question... he wasn't really paying attention to his son's actual words... No, he was too busy being captivated by the warmth and joy with which Beau spoke of this Angela... It was interesting that Beau used this sort of tone to describe the beast...

It reminded himself of how he spoke of Beau's mother when he had lost his heart to her... Looking closely at his son He wondered whether Beau had lost his heart to Angela... Looking at the anger and worry in his son's eyes, it seemed to confirm Maurice's suspicions... He sighed...

"Beau... I'm so sorry..."

His son only shrugged in response.

"Why? It's not your fault... It was my fault for using the mirror... If I hadn't..."

" If you hadn't, we both would have been thrown into Mansion De Loon... Beau, you did the right thing."

"But at what cost?" Beau chocked.

"Because of me, the mob is out to kill Angela and its all my fault... Worse of all, there's nothing I can do to stop them."

"Oh, I beg to differ," came a raspy voice from the outside followed by the sound of a rusty chain and padlock being thrown aside.

Beau stiffened as the all to familiar Monsieur D'Arque popped into view.

"D' Arque... What are you up to?" he growled suspiciously as he eyed the open door behind the ghoulish old man. Maybe, if he made a run for it, he could knock D' Arque aside and go rescue Angela... No and leave his father behind in the process? Impossible...

D' Arque watched as the young man's eyes darted to the door behind him and quickly side stepped to let Beau and Maurice exit. When the two men eyed him with cautious suspicion, he sighed.

"We had a deal, Monsieur Beau, did we not?" he said flatly.

"If you could prove to me that there is a Beast in the woods, then I shall let your father free. I am a man of my word, unlike that petite amie of yours..."

Beau gritted his teeth.

"Guinevere is not my petite amie." He snapped coldly as he helped his father out of the cellar. However when he saw D'Arque's beady red eyes narrow into menacing slits. He reminded himself to be thankful for this merciful stroke of good luck even if it did come from a man such as D' Arque and with much reluctance, thanked the old man for setting them free. Without wasting a second after that, both he and Maurice mounted Philippe and thundered into the woods at break neck speed. D' Arque watched them go... and when their silhouettes disappeared into the darkness, he happily mounted his own stallion and left the god-awful village... all the while thinking about that nice summer cottage he was going to purchase with the money he earned from Mademoiselle Le Fier...

As soon as the first assault had taken place... Guinevere being the cunning strategist that she was, wisely decided to leave the pointless fighting of furniture to someone else and slipped away up the stairs with Gaston. They surprisingly went unnoticed by the objects, or when they were noticed, Gaston was quick and strong enough to subdue them quickly. Upon reaching the upper floors, they went separate ways, Guinevere to search the West wing and Gaston the East. She watched as her brother disappear into the shadows... Hopefully he'd bump into the beast and kill it. Guinevere on the other hand had another goal in mind... She was fighting a beast that lived in a castle! A castle... A castle, and most if not all castles had their own stores of gowns and jewelry... Guinevere smirked with satisfaction; it looks like she won't just be returning to the village with a beast fur coat but also as the rich queen she had always wanted to be... And best of all, with the mirror, she didn't even need to search for treasure... It simply acted as her guide when she asked. Following its directions, she stopped when she heard a series of poundings coming from the other end of the hall... Common sense told her to run, but curiosity told her otherwise and she changed direction, walking past the a series of hideous stone gargoyles although to be fair... All the statues in the castle were uniformly ugly... The next thing she knew, Guinevere found herself just meters away from the shaking door... Shakily, she started to reach out for one of the horn headed door-handles only to leap back in surprise as they gave an earthshattering creak before something very large, very hairy and something that definitely wasn't human, fall out from behind it...

Cliffies because I think we can start calling it a trademark of mine... A writer needs ways to ensure that her readers keep coming back for more. I hope you enjoyed this though. Please review! That might be the key to me pushing out another chapter before my exams ; )