Clocksworth

"Why is Gaston locked up in a dungeon, Clocksworth?!" Lumiere burst in, visibly agitated.

"Because he deserves it," I replied calmly.

"He's here because I want him here!" Lu insisted defiantly, and I could feel my patience wearing thin.

"He's a slippery eel, a disgusting little worm, and a traitor! He doesn't deserve to be one of us!" I snapped, glaring at him.

"He saved my life!"

"You and your damn honor! You can both go to hell!" I shouted, slamming a glass against the wall.

Lumiere froze, staring at me in silence for a moment before speaking in a calmer tone. "What did he do?"

I sank into my chair with a sigh, propping my feet up on the desk as I gratefully accepted the cigar Lumiere offered. "He defied me, questioned my decisions, and—" Lumiere raised an eyebrow, waiting for me to continue. "He forced himself on Belmont."

Lumiere let out a deep sigh. "I should have known. He's always been obsessed with him, apparently in a very unhealthy way."

"They have a history, Lu—things we didn't know."

He nodded thoughtfully. "Serious enough to requires silver chains?"

"Yes."

He must have seen the determination in my expression because he dropped the subject. "Do what you want with him; he had his chance."

"Thanks."

He stepped closer and placed a hand on my shoulder. "Even though we've drifted apart, Theodor, we're family." I looked up at him, meeting his emotional gaze. "You, Marianne, and even Belmont—you are all important to me, even if I don't show it."

I patted his hand and gave him a small, crooked smile. "I know, Lu, I know."

His hand tightened around my shoulder, and I noticed how unusually emotional he was. "Do you still want to leave France when this is over?"

I lit the cigar and nodded. "I have to."

"Why? You belong here with me!"

With a sigh, I ran my fingers through my hair and looked up at him with sad eyes. "Because if I don't, these new powers will suck the life out of me, Lu."

He tilted his head, studying me. "What are they doing to you?"

"I see things, memories, feel others' emotions, hear their thoughts, and I can feel myself slipping away," I whispered.

He licked his lips and looked down at his hands. "There must be a way for you to learn to control them."

"Maybe." I shrugged. "But that's why I need to leave, Lu. I need peace and quiet."

He stood up and began to walk toward the door. "But you'll come back, right?"

"You just have to call, Lu, you know that." He stood with his back to me, nodding. Hesitantly, he placed his hand on the doorknob, as if he wanted to say something more, but then he left the room and closed the door behind him.

Belmont

The stairs down to the dungeon were so damp and slippery that I had to tread carefully to avoid slipping. It was fucking cold and dark down there, so I pulled out my phone and turned on the built-in flashlight to guide my way to the right cell. 

 "Did you come for a kiss, Bel-Bel?" His voice was back to normal, smooth with a hint of mocking, and I immediately recognized the old Gaston peeking through the bars. Had it all just been a game? 

"I'm surprised you don't have any of your babysitters with you." 

 I ignored the comment and stood with my legs apart, arms crossed in front of him. "Why did you even come back?" 

 His eyes met mine, a grin spreading across his face. "I missed you." 

 "Sure," I muttered sarcastically. "Don't you feel the need to confess everything before you die?" 

 "You're not going to kill me, Bel-Bel," he smirked, wrapping his hands around the iron bars. 

 With a deep sigh, I pulled the revolver from my waistband and aimed it straight at his head. "No?" 

 "No, you're not strong enough, and you know deep down that you need me." 

 I rubbed my fingertips against my forehead and closed my eyes for a moment. "I don't know what fantasy world you live in, Gaston, but I've never needed you. Never." 

 "Sure, Bel... sure," he grinned, licking his lips. 

 "I'll ask you again, Gaston—what did you want from this?" 

 He shrugged. "You can ask your big brother Lumiere; it was all his idea." 

 I shook my head. Why was I even trying? Even now, as he sat behind bars, he was trying to stir up intrigue. "If you don't confess, I'm going to tell you what I think anyway," I muttered, still pointing the gun at him. "You're here to make my life miserable, as usual. To ruin things for me and the ones I love, to create chaos and doubt. That's all you've ever done and all you're capable of. Make others despise you." 

 His grin faded, and his eyes narrowed into slits. "I've always cared about you, Bel," he murmured, and I stared at him doubtfully. 

 "If that's the case, you've had a hell of a strange way of showing it," I snapped. "Stop lying for fuck's sake; you're not getting away with it this time." 

 "Lumiere won't let you kill me," he smiled sweetly. 

 "Wrong," I smirked. "He's given his consent." 

 I watched as his face paled when the words sank in. "But he said—" 

 "He changed his mind," I stated coldly. "You should be grateful I'm the one to do it; Clock wouldn't have let you off so easily." 

 His eyes widened as I cocked the revolver and aimed. I saw him back away into the darkness, but I had full control; I knew where he was. Slowly, I fired shot after shot until I heard a thud from the darkness. I didn't bother to check if he was still alive; the ammo I used should have shattered inside his body, and the little silver particles would eat him from the inside out. 

 I shivered; it wasn't a pleasant way to die. I ran my fingers through my hair and let out a sigh of relief. Finally, he was out of my life! I paused at the top of the stairs. Should I double-check that he was really dead? I turned my head and glanced toward the cell. No way was I going over there to be lured into the darkness by a half-dead lunatic. I'd let someone else handle it, I thought as I left the chilly room and made my way back to my family with lighter steps. 

 One obstacle gone, but there were a thousand more on that damned list before we could escape this hellish life.

Clocksworth

I woke up with a start, again. Same as every night, and the dreams felt more and more real. Damn, I hated them. I got out of bed, cold sweat clinging to my body with the sheets. Something was different. The last few nights, I had been falling back into worlds I had once experienced but had pushed away long ago. Great battlefields with muskets firing in every direction, friends dying around me. Screams of fear, panic, and pain haunted me.*

I rubbed my eyes hard with my palms and looked around. The faces were finally gone, but the room was so quiet. With a sigh, I walked over to the window and let in some cool night air. I wasn't dreaming ordinary dreams; these were memories, and they hurt like hell. Memories of everyone I had killed, hundreds of pairs of eyes staring accusingly at me.

I dreamt of the French Revolution and remembered all the poor people fighting over crumbs of bread. People I lived among who starved to death right before my eyes. The world was so full of hate and pain. All the beautiful memories, the happy memories, were devoured by war, anxiety, and death, and it all came back to me at night.

It struck me that Anthony's powers made everything worse. It was as if the emotions intensified; the anxiety grew more severe. Like their dead souls were floating around me, demanding my attention. I poured myself a glass of whiskey and downed it in one gulp before pouring another. Had it been the same for Anthony?

I was struggling with myself and found it hard to control my emotions. Lu noticed but said nothing. Belmont noticed too, and I saw the concern in his eyes. Everyone else avoided me; my mood had worsened lately. Maybe because I was using my new powers more and more. I hoped they thought I was just tense about the weekend, our grand heist, because how could I ever tell the truth? That I was completely insane. I laughed quietly to myself. Who wants a leader with a head full of voices?

The laughter turned into an anxiety-filled grimace; I didn't give a damn whether we won or not. I had my own plans, things I needed to do before I drove myself to madness. At first, I had convinced myself it was all in my head, but soon I realized Belmont's fear was justified. Anthony was still inside me, around me like a persistent voice demanding my attention. The sick part was, it made me miss him. Old feelings I had pushed away resurfaced. He was, in a way, my first greatest love, someone I had longed for, for hundreds of years, and when I finally got him, he was taken from me that very night.

Part of me had wanted to hate Marianne for killing Luis, but she had probably done us all a favor that night. After his brother's death, Anthony was never himself again, and I had lost him forever. Feeling him inside me made the days and nights unbearable.

I thought vampires flew straight to hell, I chuckled to myself. Apparently, he had things he wanted to finish before moving on to party with the devil. The thought felt oddly reassuring, that we somehow carried on after our death.

With a tender glance, I looked over at Belmont; he slept so peacefully, and I wished with all my heart that he would be spared more death and hate. At least Gaston was gone now. 

When Bel had emerged from the basement, Dominic had gone down to make sure he was really dead, and I'd be damned surprised if he came back from the dead without a head. 

Belmont deserved better than that, a new life like the one we had in New York before our old lives followed us there. There had to be a place where he could find peace in his body again, I sighed and downed another glass.

Finally, I crawled back into bed beside him and inched closer. His eyelids fluttered, and he mumbled something inaudible before wrapping his arms around me. It was the little, tiny things he did that spread calm within me. He was like a drug.

I sighed tiredly; if only he knew what I was planning, he would hate me for the rest of his life.