Belle Adams' Butler

Belle stood in the corridor of the mansion where no one usually came. She had planned to jump out of the window, but with George who had locked the entire house, she could tell that there was no way out, apart from killing him and she didn't want to do it. She knew she was letting her emotions sway, but this was her friend. 

In the afternoon, when her mother was speaking the things she would have never expected to hear, she didn't know why it was easier to want both her parents gone. It might have been because the spirits were dominating their souls, and they had eaten the remaining residues of them in the land of the dead but George looked like he had fused himself with the spirit. Out of willingness. 

"You were never like this, George. What happened to the friend I knew?" asked Belle when George pulled out the knife which was big and sharp. 

"Did you get it from the kitchen?" asked Belle. 

"This is mine," George replied to her, "I have been sharpening it in my room," so that was what he was doing instead of resting. 

"Throw it away and let us sit down and talk," Belle tried to convince him, "I don't want to hurt you-"

"You cannot hurt me," he interrupted her, "You are a mortal, and a mortal has less power compared to who I am right now. I feel so strong, Belle. Like the strength coursing down my veins, and I can feel it throbbing in my head at times. I have never felt this good."

Belle tried to get a spell ready, the same spell she had used on Greed. Hopefully, this would work on George too, but they would be locked here for eternity. Belle used both her palms touching each other, bending down, she whispered the words for the marks to be created that formed on the ground he was standing, but it didn't work. The man stepped out of the mark easily. 

"It's not going to work, Belle. Where did you learn that?" he asked her with a surprised look, "That's not the power of a vampire. Aren't you a vampire?" asked George, "A witch?" he looked angry again, hating the word witch. 

The witches must have killed him, thought Belle to herself. His appearance was changing further into a dead person, his skin shedding out from the surface of his body. 

"I am a witch," she affirmed, noticing the anger and his nose scrunching in disgust, "I have always been a witch," she pushed the words further, letting it sink in him. 

George disliked the thought of her being a witch and not a vampire like him. He had a look of disgust on his face, and as she had hoped, his emotions did get swayed, and he was looking at her in a new light. 

"You understand now why I can't be with you," she said and saw him nod his head. 

"We can make an exception. Once you are dead, it wouldn't matter if you were a vampire or a witch. Everything is the same once you are dead, Belle." she had tired, thought Belle to herself. She had tried her best to bring him on the right path, but her friend was long gone. She had to remind herself now that if George was standing like this in front of her, it meant he was dead and long gone. 

This was not her friend but another version from the land of the dead and...her friend was gone. She closed her eyes before blinking her eyes several times. 

"Kill him," came the voice from one of the rooms. Belle and George's attention moved to the other corridor where Greed was held. 

"You have company," George said, his eyes shifting from the corridor behind Belle to look back her "A male."

Belle picked up the courage, and when George tried to move forward, she stopped him, "Go back to the place you came from," her words were firm. George didn't listen to her, and he came to her when Belle used her spells to throw him back and away to the other end of the corridor, "Go back, and no one will be hurt."

"I came here for you. I will take you with me," he said, and in a blink of an eye, he stood behind her and Belle had to wrestle to get away from him and the knife he was holding at her. 

Belle tried to push him, but the man was adamant in having her throat slit with his knife. The spells she knew had no effect on him when it could affect a Grim reaper, and this had her perplexed. 

Was he resistant to her spells and words? But why? Even in the afternoon, it was Lucas' scythe that had finished the job. 

Falling on the ground, she felt him trying to catch hold of her hands that were trying to make more spells. Holding them in both his hands and straddling her, "I don't mean to hurt you, Belle."

"That is exactly what you are doing! Please stop!" she begged him not to do something he would regret. She didn't want to die, and she couldn't. 

"I will be quick," he said while Belle continued to struggle and she used her leg to kick as hard as she could. She tried to run away only to have him catch hold of her leg and she tripped and fell flat on her front. 

When she fell on the ground, she had hit her head and scraped her hand due to the force. Kicking and hitting were of no use as George was not of this world, and it didn't hurt him. 

"Stop running away, Belle!" George scolded her, and when she heard that, she wanted to give him a look if he was seriously expecting her to sit still and get her throat slit by his hands. 

George saw how Belle was not listening to a word he was saying, and he took hold of her leg and stabbed it with the knife he held to have her scream in pain. 

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