Old Fanfiction

[angiebelle]

I used to write Disney fanfiction as a kid, long before there were entire websites devoted to such a thing. I once wrote a story called The Great Disney Switch about Ariel, Belle, and Jasmine switching places Freaky Friday style. I also had a collaborative effort between me and a penpal- we wrote ourselves into a story about the characters from Aladdin. It got to be over 20 pages before we ran out of ideas.

Here’s a favorite of mine (though never finished) “The Ghost of Gaston,” written when I was in high school. It was one of the very first B&TB fanfics online. 🙂 (Is it any wonder I’m a OuaT fan?) Note- yes there are things I would change if I were to go back and edit it…I’d like to hope I’m a better writer now than I was then! (Belle is too meek, and I have Belle and the prince sleeping in separate chambers for some reason.)

The Ghost of Gaston

Belle watched in horror as Gaston lunged at the Beast, preparing to stab him with the knife in his hands. Tears welled up in Belle’s eyes as the injured Beast limped on to the balcony. Behind them, she heard a long terrified scream as Gaston plummeted off the roof to his death on the jagged rocks below.
In that same instand, Belle no longer clung to the Beast for dear life on the balcony but floating in a black nothingness. A familiar voice that sent a chill through her echoed through the void. “Does that ring a bell, Belle? Ha Ha! I thought it might. I didn’t think you could forget me! I’ve been watching you, Belle. I still want you as my wife, and being dead isn’t going to stop me! You should feel lucky. Any other girl could only dream of being with me for the rest of her life, or should I say . . . afterlife!” He laughed with a cruel menace.
Belle woke from her nightmare with a start. Her heart pounded. She reassured herself that Gaston couldn’t possibly haunt the castle and threaten her. Surely such an idea was ridiculous and would only be believed by superstitious villagers. Still, the vision had really shaken her up, and it was a while before she fell back asleep. By morning she had almost completely forgotten the awful nightmare. It wasn’t until she woke up in the middle of the following night that she remembered it.
A freezing, still air took hold of Belle. The unseasonally cold temperature startled and confused her. She lit a candle to see if the window was open, but the flame only flickered and died. She shivered and tried again, but the same thing happened.
An eerie glow appeared at the foot of her bed. Slowly the light took the form of a person. Belle gasped with recognition as Gaston himself stood before her. She stared in disbelief, remembering the threat in her dream. This was no illusion, and she was frightened.
“Hello, Belle,” he said. “Did you miss me?” He moved toward her.
“This is impossible. You couldn’t possibly have survived that fall!” Belle managed to say, partially trying to convince herself.
“No, you’re right, I didn’t survive,” he said. “You see, Belle, I’ve always known that we were destined to be together ever since I first met you. Now I will make sure you have no other choice!” Belle pressed herself against her bed. She could feel the air getting colder as Gaston advanced. “Relax, Belle. The easier you make this, the less painful it will be.” Belle couldn’t take her eyes off Gaston. She felt frozen in place.
Gaston closed in on her, preparing to choke her. Belle felt her breath nearly go to a standstill as his icy fingers touched her neck. Without warning, Gaston’s hands went right through her skin as easily as a strong drift of cold wind. Gaston let out a yell of surprise and frustration.
“Don’t worry, Belle. I’ll get you somehow! I’ll be back!” Gaston vanished, and the air gradually grew warmer. When Belle finally found her voice, she screamed.
Her prince, whom at one time had been the Beast from her dream, heard the scream and came rushing to Belle’s bed chamber. “Belle, what’s wrong?” he asked. Belle’s face was pale. “You look as if you’ve seen a ghost!”
“I . . . I think did!” Belle responded. “It’s Gaston! He tried to choke me!” She was almost in tears.
The prince tried to comfort Belle by putting his arms around her. “It had to be just a bad dream. There’s no way Gaston could return.”
“I know it was real.” contradicted Belle. “I didn’t believe it at first either, but I felt an icy hand on my neck. In dreams, you can’t feel a sting like that!” The head servants, Mrs. Potts, Lumiere, and Cogsworth, and Belle’s father Maurice had heard the commotion and came rushing in wearing their nightgowns.
“What’s wrong?” exclaimed Lumiere. “Who screamed?”
Mrs. Potts hurried to Belle’s side. “You poor dear! You look scared to death!”
“Belle,” said Maurice, “what happened?” He walked over to the side of Belle’s bed.
Belle hugged her father. “Oh, Papa! Gaston is back! He’s came to haunt me and threaten me…”
Belle and her father had been practical and logical people who didn’t believe in things such as ghosts. Of course, until recently, they hadn’t believed in enchantresses or magic spells that turned a prince into a beast and his servants into household objects either. Maurice held his daughter close and stroked her hair as he used to when she was a child. Surrounded by those she loved most, Belle allowed herself to quietly sob in her father’s arms.
*********************************
In the daylight, Gaston wandered through the village grumbling angrily to himself. Being a ghost, he was not visible to the townspeople who lived there. The only place he could materialize was in the castle where Belle and the Prince lived. He wanted nothing more than to claim his revenge on them and take Belle for himself, but every plan had backfired. Feeling frustrated, he decided to go to the tavern. It had changed a little since he died. His favorite bear-skinned chair had been pushed to the wall. A wreath was placed in the center of it.
As usual in the days since his fatal battle, the trio of tavern girls known as the Bimbettes were weeping hysterically on the arms of the chair. They had been Gaston’s personal cheerleaders during his life.”Why…did…he…have…to…die!” sobbed one.
“It’s not fair!”cried another.
“It’s all her fault!” exclaimed the third. “If only he had wanted to marry me instead of that bookworm brat, Belle!” Gaston approached the girls, but they could neither see nor hear him. They only noticed the chill in the air from his presence.
Gaston glanced away for a moment and watched a sheet of aged paper blew into the door and slowly drifted to his feet. Gaston bent down to pick it up and found to his suprise that he was able to touch it. It was made from the same translucent material as he. “Hmmmm,” he mumbled as he began to read it the best he could since he had never been a good student in school.
“Need to cause trouble for someone? Come see Monsieur Demone for all your ghostly magic! Tonight, in the woods. Look for the glowing cottage.” Gaston grinned and chuckled to himself. Perhaps this was the key to his desire. He waited for nightfall, and then he headed into the woods carrying the advertisement. It wasn’t too hard to find the cottage. It seemed to be waiting there especially for his arrival. Gaston tramped to the door of the little brown house and knocked. A sinister man with a thin mustache and a small pointed beard opened the door. “Ah,” he said, “I’ve been expecting you. Come in!” He opened the door wider and motioned for Gaston to follow him. His home was filled with old skulls, glowing potions in bottles, and an ominous mist coming from a strange fire that seemed to fill the house.
“Are you Monsieur Demone?” asked Gaston.
“At your service.” replied the man. “So, you want the girl, do you?”
“How did you know?” asked Gaston.
“Never mind that.” Monsieur Demone shook his head disapprovingly, “You should have known you couldn’t kill her with your bare hands. I could’ve told you that.”
“Then how can I kill her?”
“You can’t.” Gaston eyed Monsieur Demone suspiciously. ” But, you can steal her soul! It just so happens that I have a potion I can give you that will do just that!”
“What’s the price? I’ll pay anything!” Gaston cried.
“No price.” replied Mr. Demone. “The pleasure is all mine.”
“Wait. Why would you be willing to help me?” Gaston smirked.
“Let’s just say I enjoy a good soul stealing. Heh heh.” He pulled out a small bottle filled with an iredesent green liquid from underneath his coat. “You see this?” He held the bottle up. “This is going to make your dream come true! Just one drop on your damsile’s chest, and her soul will be free from her body. I personally think you’d be doing her a favor. Who needs a body anyway?” An evil grin spread across Gaston’s face as he carefully took the little bottle from Monsieur Demone’s hands. “Oh, one more thing.” Mr. Demone reached into the other side of his coat and pulled out a large heart shaped locket on a thick gold chain. “You need to capture her sprit by turning this tiny key in the back.” Gaston grabbed the locket, thanked Monsieur Demone, and trudged back towards the town imagining the following night when Belle would finally be his.
**************************************************
Belle had spent most of the following day in her library reading her happiest books with her prince and trying to keep her mind off the horrible vision of Gaston. That night, the Prince came and knocked on her door. “Belle?” he called, “Are you going to be all right by yourself tonight?”
“Yes, I’ll be fine.” replied Belle. She was determined not to let Gaston scare her so much. After all, he couldn’t touch her, and she wasn’t scared of him when he was alive. Why should he scare her now? The Prince kissed her tenderly and held her tight, as if he might lose her. In her Prince’s arms, Belle felt much more relaxed. Then the Prince fled off to his own bed chambers, and she was alone.
Slowly, she crept towards her bed and climbed in. She blew her candle out and placed it on the nightstand. As she slipped under the covers, she soon fell fast asleep. Deep into the night, a mist once more filled the room as Gaston returned preparing to do his awful deed. This time, Belle did not stir as Gaston was careful not to alert anyone. Carefully following Monsieur. Demone’s instructions, He uncorked the little bottle and poured the glowing green liquid on Belle’s chest. It slowly oozed over her until it had formed a thin green layer. Then the powerful potion absorbed into her skin causing her entire body to give off an erie green light.
As Gaston watched eagerly, a duplicate image of Belle slowly rose and hovered over her body. He pulled out the locket and placed it around his neck. Then, using a tiny key, he turned the lock, and a little hole opened up in the back. The image of Belle swiftly pulled into the locket, and the hole sealed itself up. As soon as he reached the woods, he let out a wicked laugh.
***********************************************
That morning, the Prince waited for Belle to join him in the dining room for breakfast. Time dragged by, and when she continued to be absent, the Prince grew worried. Belle had never been a late sleeper.
“Where is she?” he asked Mrs. Potts.
“She was sound asleep the last time I checked, the poor dear!” she replied. The Prince had an awful feeling that something was terribly wrong. He abrubtly stood and raced to Belle’s room, not caring if his poridge became cold.
He knocked on her door. “Belle, are you there?” No response. “Is something wrong?” he called. With his heart pounding furiously, the Prince turned the knob and swang the door open. He saw Belle lying deathly still on her bed. Her face was pale and her hair had lost it’s shine. Her chest didn’t gentley rise and fall. “Belle! Oh, Belle!” The Prince’s eyes blurred with tears as he tenderly caressed her. “I never should have left you alone…” As he pressed her body against his own, he felt a faint heartbeat. She was miraculously still alive.
Behind him, he heard a gasp. He turned to see Mrs. Potts standing in the door. He slowly stood up and looked at her with a tear stained face. “She has a pulse, but she’s not breathing!” he exclaimed. Mrs. Potts was stunned. She had grown to love Belle like her own child.
“We must send for a doctor at once!” she exclaimed, struggling to keep her composure.
The Prince nodded in agreement. “Watch over her Mrs. Potts. I’m going to the village!”
“But Master, you’ve never been there without Belle to guide you!”
“I’ll take Phillipe, Belle’s horse. He’ll know the way!”
“Do be careful , Master!” Mrs. Potts called out, but the Prince was already racing to the castle grounds. As word of Belle’s illness spread, the entire castle became frantic. Many sevants were crying for their beloved princess. Maurice and Mrs. Potts stayed at Belle’s side.
Meanwhile, the Prince mounted Phillipe and nudged him to go forward. “To the village, Phillipe! Belle needs help!” Sensing the urgency in the Prince’s voice, the majestic animal set off in a full run; the pounding of hooves against the ground echoed through the forest.
Soon, they arrived in a quaint little town where Belle had lived before the two of them had met. He pulled Phillipe to a halt, dismounted, and tied the horse to a nearby tree. Frantically, he looked around for someone who might help. For the most part, the villagers were just minding their own business. He decided to try the first public building he came to which happened to be a local tavern. He and Belle had never gone there, but surely someone in there would know where to find a doctor. As he yanked the door open, the people in the room fell silent. A few people frowned at the newcomer wondering why a prince of all people would be coming into a tavern. Others stared uncomfortably.
“Please!” cried the Prince,”My good townspeople! Help Me! I need to find a doctor! It’s an emergency!”
Suddenly, three blondes strolled up from the back of the room and practically swooned. “He’s gorgeous!” one murmered. They surrounded the Prince, batting their eyes flirtatiously.
“You poor thing!” exclaimed the one in red grabbing one of his arms.
“I’m sure there must be something we can do to help!” said the one in gold taking his other arm.
“What’s the problem, handsome?” asked the one in green pushing one of her sisters out of the way. The Prince gulped and backed up uncomfortabley. He certainly wasn’t used to behavior like this!
“My Belle is deathly ill! Please direct me to the nearest doctor at once!” At the mention of Belle’s name, all three girls immediately dropped their grip on the Prince with disgust.
“Argh!” screamed the one in gold. “What do you men see in that girl?!” she pouted like child who had been punished.
“Oooooh!” exclaimed the one in green. “She deserves to die after what she did to Gaston!”
The Prince couldn’t believe anyone could say something so awful, but then he remembered how he himself had spoken to the enchantress before she had turned him into a Beast. “Please! Will someone tell me where I can find a doctor?”
A plump middle-aged woman who apparently worked at the tavern approached him. “Just go down past the fountain and take a left at Briar Lane. You’ll see the sign. You can’t miss it.”
“I’m eternally grateful, madame.” said the Prince, somewhat awkwardly for still not being used to interacting with those he had never met. “You shall be rewarded for your kindness.” With that, he placed a gold coin in the woman’s hand and headed off to find a doctor.
Following the kind woman’s instuctions, the Prince soon came across a small cottage. Hanging over the door was a worn wooden sign bearing the word le docteur and a picture of a person in bed. He push the door open causing a little bell on a string to jingle lightly. Inside, behind a counter littered with all kinds of strange instuments was a tall, plump man wearing specticals.
“Yes, Sir, may I help you?”
The Prince hastily explained the situation, and the doctor agreed at once to make a house call ,or perhaps castle call would be a better word, and do what he could to revive the princess. The doctor saddled his own horse and pack supplies in his saddle bag as the Prince untied Phillipe and remounted him. The two then rode off to the castle. Once there, the doctor and the prince fled up to Belle’s bedroom where Maurice and Mrs. Potts waited. Their tearful expressions made it clear that Belle’s condition had not changed at all.
The doctor went to work examining Belle’s limp body as everyone watched intensely looking for the slightest sign of life in her. Soon, the doctor turned to speak with the Prince. “It’s the strangest thing I’ve ever seen.” he said. “At first glance I thought she was dead for sure for she is not breathing at all and her face is ashen, but the girl still has a pulse. It’s as if by some miracle her heart refuses to quit. I never would’ve thought it possible.”
“Can you help her?” asked the Prince in desperation.
“I’m afraid not. I really don’t know what to tell you… This is a most bizarre illness indeed.” the doctor replied solumly.
The Prince felt completely torn apart. Doing something he hadn’t done since the enchantment on him had been broken by Belle’s love, he threw back his head and howled a heartbroken cry that came from the very bottom of his soul.
*****************************************
Deep in the woods as dawn was breaking, Gaston clutched his new found prize around his neck. He rubbed a finger along the intricate design that covered the front of the clasp and stared at the key for a moment wondering what to do next. After all, what good was it to him to have Belle trapped asleep inside a piece of jewelry? He then took the key in his hands, placed it in the lock, and gave it a turn. A bit of mist began to pour from the opening onto the mossy floor of the forest like a miniature irridescent waterfall. The mist spilled onto the ground, taking the shape of a young woman in a deep slumber. He watched in anticipation. As Belle’s soul materialized in it’s entirety, Gaston stood aside to admire her. Even disheveled and fast asleep, she held a beauty that was absolutely perfect to him. He felt she was the only woman in the entire village whose attractiveness was worthy of his own. Seeing that Belle was waking up, he struck a macho pose in preparation to win her over with his charm.
Belle moaned softly, and her eyes fluttered open a little. She found herself feeling disoriented and soon became aware of a bizzare sensation of weightlessness, almost as if she were floating just above the ground rather than lying on it. The ground? How could she have possibly ended up outside? With that sudden realization, Belle sat up with a jolt.
“Good morning, Belle.” Gaston broke into a pompus grin. “Isn’t it a beautiful day?” Belle’s eyes widened as she brought herself to her feet, but this time pure anger replaced her fear. Out in the open in bright daylight, Gaston no longer seemed such a threat.
Only one word escaped her lips. “You!”
“Of course, Belle. Didn’t I tell you I’d get my way in the end? Why don’t you just come to your senses and admit it; I am good.”
“You just don’t understand, do you?” declared Belle. “I will NEVER be yours!” In the next instant, Gaston grabbed Belle by the shoulders and planted a big, long kiss right on her lips. When he let up, Belle instinctively jerked backwards and curled her lips in disgust. Then she did something that surprised even herself. She took her hand and slapped him hard and strong across the jaw, an action so unexpected that Gaston stood stupefied for an instant and relaxed his grip. Belle took advantage of his stunned reaction and bolted into the forest.
“BELLE! You’re mine!” Gaston’s angry bellow echoed behind her. Belle could hear him catching up, but she continued to push forward as fast as she could despite not having any idea of where she was going. All she cared about was getting away from that monster of a man. Finally, she came to a halt behind a tree and stopped to listen. She heard his voice calling in the distance. “All right, Belle, you win for now. But you’ll come crawling back to me soon. There’s no where for you to go…you’ll see. I’ll be waiting.”
Just beyond the tree where Belle stood lay a large clearing with a lovely little creek flowing off to the side. Grateful to finally stop running, she allowed herself to collapse gently to the ground. Idly, she rubbed her hand back and forth over the soft grass. Her gaze met her hand. and she stared for a moment. Something looked very odd. Then, it hit her. The grass went right through her fingers. In fact, it didn’t seem affected by her touch at all. It was as if she wasn’t there. Flutters of panic danced inside her as she held her hand to her face and followed the outline of her body with her eyes, down her arms and shoulders, across her chest, down her torso to her legs and feet. Her entire body looked like merely a reflection in a window.
She remembered Gaston’s visit to her bedroom the previous night. “What has he done to me?” She stood and held her palm to her face again. “I’ve got to get back home…” A friendly breeze tickled the back of her head, almost as if giving an encouraging nod.
“Well, if it isn’t my little Belle of the ball.” Belle startled at the sound of a woman’s lilting voice. “Oh my, but you have grown into a beauty. I knew you would.” Belle looked around the clearing for the source. Just a little ways ahead, the air shimmered as a figure of a plan but still very lovely woman emerged. Belle, still unused to the idea of people appearing out of thin air, took an unstable step backwards. The woman, also a ghostly consistency, wore a simple brown blouse, a pale yellow skirt, and a white apron with a small patch of violets delicately stitched in one corner.
Belle noticed that something about this woman seemed very familiar. In that instant, flashes of distant memories played in brief clips in her mind: a warm smile, the smell of baking bread, storybooks at bedtime, and the same face that was now in front of her lying fatally ill as a tiny young Belle and her papa kept a bedside vigil. Belle spoke in a broken voice. “Mama….” The woman nodded warmly and welcomed Belle into her arms. “Oh, mama…”
Belle had been so little when she had lost her mother, she barely even remembered her, but still she felt an instant longing. For a moment, mother and daughter held each other in such an embrace as if to make up for all the years of lost time. Belle then found herself pulling back, feeling ill at ease with a thought that entered her mind. “Mama…” she started, “Mama, am I…dead? Is that why you’re with me now?’ She wondered if in some way Gaston had won after all.
“No…somehow, I don’t think you are.” Belle’s mother looked over her daughter carefully. “Spirits usually cause a chill. But you seem to have a warm glow instead. I think some part of you is still alive.”
“I’ve got to get back home.” Belle declared. “I love you, Mama, and I’ve missed you so much, but I need to live!”
“Of course you do, sweetie. It’s not your time to go. We’ll take the journey together- just like an adventure in a storybook!” Belle smiled at her mother, most definitely a kindred spirit- so to speak!

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