Le Père Fouettard led his new acquisition into his hideout. He was pleased to see that the boy was still sitting where he'd been left, waiting blank-faced by the large barrel. He'd realised after he'd left that if the spell wore off, the boy might try to get away. But it seemed to have lasted long enough. He gestured the girl to sit next to the boy, and she did so without any sign of recognition or thought. Good. He still needed one more child. Which meant one more trip out. If these two had not been only children he'd have caught enough by now. But then again, perhaps they'd be less the spoiled brats that they were. And knowing how precious the little darlings were was going to make this so much better.
He leant his bundle of sticks by the wall, and picked up the chains he'd bought along with the barrel. No sense in taking risks. He cuffed and chained the boy first, who took no notice of anything that happened to him. Then the girl. Except... for some reason, he couldn't make her lock hold. Every time he closed it, it sprung open again. It must have been poorly made. So he wrapped her with extra chain and hooked the lock in place behind her, hoping that if she did wake she wouldn't realise it wasn't locked. She took no notice as he passed the chain this way and that around her, and he smirked. She wouldn't wake. Not from Le Père Fouettard's switch. He left them like that, hoisted his bundle of sticks onto his back, gave a longing pat to the sharpened axe lying by the barrel. "Soon", he muttered to himself. He walked towards the door to go get his final victim. As he put his hand on the handle, the door burst inwards, knocking him backwards across the floor.
Ladybug watched as Le Père Fouettard led Chloe into an old building with covered windows. One window on the second storey wasn't fully covered. She threw her yoyo to the building's roof, and swung across to its wall, clinging to the carved facade by the window. Inside, there wasn't much light. One lamp that appeared to be on the floor somewhere, and that was it. Ladybug wished Chat Noir had caught up, she could really use his night vision right now. But she'd been sneaking across the rooftops so carefully perhaps he hadn't been able to track her. She flicked open her yoyo and tried calling him, but no answer. Oh, souffles. He wasn't transformed yet. She squinted in, trying to see what she could.
She could just make out Chloe sitting down on a bench, still blank-faced, next to... Adrien. Chloe hadn't lied about that, at least. Whatever Hawkmoth was making her do, she and Adrien were still at risk. Next to Adrien was... was that a barrel?
And an axe?
Oh no. Whoever this Le Père Fouettard was, he was taking the story a little too seriously for Ladybug's liking. This was so many kinds of NOT GOOD. She probably wasn't going to be able to wait for Chat Noir.
Below her, Le Père Fouettard was doing something at the bench. Metal glinted in the lamplight. Chains. For some reason, extra on Chloe. That was going to be awkward. But at least it meant he wasn't planning to put them in the barrel right that minute. Still, no time like the present. Le Père Fouettard was walking towards the door now. Ladybug reanchored her yoyo to the roof above her, took a deep breath, and kicked out from the building as hard as she could, letting the yoyo string out as she did so. Her body turned gracefully at the farthest point of the arc, and she swung back towards the door feet first with all the power of her fall.