~The Hunter~
For the next 3 days, I searched up as many castles as I possibly could that exist in NY state and just out of it. Unfortunately, most were in ruins or open to the public. The Beast couldn't inhabit a place that was hanging on by it's last hinge and a public location isn't exactly the greatest place to have a hide out.
But I did find a website selling castle like mansions upstate. It took some work but I managed to convince my mom to pretend she was an interested buyer. This way we could check out all the mansions in the area without looking suspicions.
I just finish putting on my suit when my mother calls to me from downstairs. "You better be wearing that suit when I get up there!"
"I am!" I reply while taking another look in the mirror. I make sure I look like the son of a family who can afford a "castle like mansion."
My mother reaches the room, looks me over, and gives me a nod of approval. Once that's over, the look I've been getting from everyone takes over her expression.
"Mom, can you please stop looking at me like that? You're making me crazy."
She sighs and sits on my bed, her ponytail bobs with the movement. "I know. You're probably sick of this look."
"I am because I'm not going crazy. I'm just doing what Belle would do for me, not give up, trying my best to find her. Why does that make me crazy?" I rant, letting out all my fustration.
"It doesn't make you crazy, it's just..." she takes a breath and pats the seat next to her. I sit and she rest her hand on my knee. "You're desperate to find her and that's totally understandable. It's just sometimes I worry that...that it might be getting to you." She chews her lip and looks up at me sadly.
"I appreciate your concern mom but-"
"I want you to see someone, Grayson. That dream you had, the one you went to the police about, it was probably from stress and trauma."
"If you don't want to help me-"
"I will still help you look for Belle in the castle sales tonight but you have to promise me you'll go to a therapist," she comprises.
The idea of talking to a person about my feelings and hours of feeling like loon makes me cringe but the bags under my mother's eyes make me agree.
"Okay. I promise."
She smiles and opens her arms for a hug. "Come here."
Three hours later we make it to a site where all the mansions are. Each mansion comes with their own few acres of land, promising privacy. They stand on the grass like shiny trophies on a shelf.
There aren't much people around, only a woman who seems to be in charge and a few well dressed lingering on lookers.
"Hello! Welcome to our sale!" the woman says. She wears a big smile on her face and rushes over to our car to shake our hands. Her arms are lined with exspensive looking bracelets that make noise when she moves her hands.
"Hello!" my mother greets, shaking her hand. "We're just going to look around on our own for a bit."
"Oh, that's fine," she says cheerfully. "I'll be here if you need anything."
My mom nods and smiles. When the woman walks away my mom raises the car window and turns to me. "I'm going to actually look at some of the mansions so we don't seem suspicious. If any one catches you, you were looking for a bathroom."
"Alright, mom." I reach for the car door but she grabs my arm to stop me.
"Grayson Bolton, you better be careful. If you do find Belle or The Beast or anything else call the police first. Don't you dare handle it yourself. I could have lost you the day you went out with Mrs. Anderson." Her eyes tear up, she swallows hard. "If I loose you this time..."
I put my hand on her shoulder. "You won't loose me and I won't loose Belle." With that, I step out of the car and begin my walk to one of the farther mansions. I figure The Beast would be at one less occupied. Only the first three are for sale so I look past them.
As I get further away, I change my casual walking pace into a jog. Soon there aren't any cars or people. Just big pine tree's and a gravel road path.
I take a break, the first abandoned mansion in sight. Trying to catch my breath, I mentally prepare myself. I'll need to aware, look for any small clues. Even the-
A big crash sound floods the air from within the mansion.
"Belle?" Without hesitation and with my heart pounding in my ears, I run to the mansion's rickety, yet heavy door. I pull and push at the latch but it doesn't budge.
Desperate, I take my football stance and charge at the door. It gives and and swings open.
The stench of beer, sweat, and cigarettes fill my nose. The enterance hall is empty, but not spotless. There are boot prints on the ground and the long carpeted stair case is draped with clothing and empty ash trays. I continue on to the living room where I hear shuffling.
I know I promised my mother to call the police but how can I when I could be so close to finding Belle? This could be my only chance, I can't lose it. So without thinking it through, I step into the living room ready to save Belle from The Beast.
Angry stares meet my gaze. A group of men, maybe in their mid 20's, sit around a table with cards and dufflebags. There's a pocket knife on the table and bat's and hockey sticks are scattered around the room. The lights are off and a few candles illuminate the place just enough to see without drawing attention. Even so, the smoke from the cigars make it hard to see, let alone breathe.
"Whatcha think you doing?" a man says jumping up from his seat. He sets his beer down and rest his hand next to his belt. A knife flashes silver caught in the fires light.
I swallow hard as the other's begin to stand up revealing muscular arms lined with tattoo's and scars. "Sorry..." my mouth goes dry as I start to back away. "I thought..."
A man I didn't see before comes up from behind me, placing a firm hand on my shoulder. "What's wrong rich boy?"
"Yea, why you sweating?" another adds.
"I was looking for someone...They aren't here. I'll leave." I pull my shoulder away from the man but when I turn another man waits with crossed arms blocking my way to the exit.
"Rich boys don't break open doors like that," one says coming closer. I stiffen but meet his gaze trying to show I'm tough too.
"You don't want to get that nice tie of your's messed up."
He yanks at my tie to the point where it chokes me. I snatch it back and take it off. "You can have it."
I throw it on the counter and survey the room. There's at least six of them. I can't take them all. Especially with their knifes and sports equipment.
"You think you can buy everything now, don't you?" the one with the knife taunts. He pulls the knife out of his pocket and keeps it at his side. "Maybe your rich parents can pay for a new pretty face once we mess it up?"
The man swings the knife at me and I bend down to hear the whoosh it makes as it just misses my face. I use my shoulder to ram him into the couch but it's not long before I'm yanked back and taused on the table by his pals. The glass shatters beneath me, some pieces getting lodged in my skin.
A man with a red beard takes a hockey sick to my neck. "You think you so tough? Bet you never been in a real fight on the street, always had your parents there with their money, aye?"
I bring my leg up and kick the man in the gut. He let's go and so I try to take off. But all the other guys surround me in a circle.
"Look, I don't want to cause any trouble. I'll leave and you won't see my face again. No police, no anything," I say trying to reason with them as I scramble away from the coffee table.
They all look at each other, speaking with their eyes, and then they look back at me.
The next few moments can only be described as painful.
Author's Note- Behold, this beautiful poster!