Back by popular demand: You next instalment on What's on the Other Side. Tying up no questians, but rather posing new ones....enjoy!
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Ding, dong.
The doorbell peeled through the stone corridors, echoing dull against the pillars and half-naked statues.
Ding, dong.
The sound rolled off curtains, shivered across slabfloors, sparkled throughout the empty ballroom of mirrors.
Ding....
...Dong
It reached the ears of Mrs Nancy. Her purple eyes flahsed, and she clapped her hands. "At last. A cordial visit." And she chuckled.
Footsteps on stairs, the sweep of her furred hands along the handrail, and she was at the door. She pressed her eye to the fisheye-peephole. It was as she thought.
Mrs Nancy drew back from the door, with her hands behind her back. After a moment, it swung silently open.
The two beyond turned suddenly, as if guilty, caught unaware, their backs to their duty.
Mrs Nancy looked into the face that had so often hauntend her dreams. "Hello Beauhoth," she said. "I've been expecting you."
Beautingleroth Regard growled deep in his throat. "You told me my father was dead."
Mrs Nancy smiled chillingly. "Oh, I did? I'm so terrably sorry. But, I sometimes speak ahead of myself. Too soon. But, he soon will be. Don't worry yourself."
"I've been waiting a long time for this," Beauhoth shouted, leaping forward as strong and agile as any younger member of his race. His fingers closed on Mrs Nancy's throat, and he pushed her back against the cold wall.
Her mouth parted in a half-scream, half-laugh, half-cry of satisifaction. Then she twisted, catching his feet with hers and throwing Beauhoth to the ground.
Mr Regard swung his cane, but she caught it with ease, throwing Mr Regard off balence, and tripping him also to the hard floor.
"I'd have expected better," she said.
And Beauhoth was up, dodging, moving, constantly in motion, jumping forward, hopping back.
She pared his every strike, enjoying the moment more and more. She would kill him any time she wanted. Then at last he wouldn't be worrying her any longer, no court of jury to sent him to The End, nothing but her and him. No witnesses. He attacked me, my lord judge, I killed in self-defence.
"Stop right where you are, or, or else."
The voice was male, deep, and unexpected. It was not Beauhoth, or Beautingleroth Regard. It was no frog. Mrs Nancy stopped, her hands quickly moving to her sides.
Beauhoth recognised the voice. It was one he had heard many times in his deeper dreams. Beautingleroth also recognised it. It was one he had heard many times in his younger years.
Beauhoth punched, and Mrs. Nancy went down, crumpling in a heep.
Another voice. "Alright. Enough. We do Not hit defencless women." And a pig rounded the corner of the hall. Her hair was damp, her clothes drying. She was followed by a young man, yellow with orange hair. A bear. And last...he came.
Beautingleroth Regard's breath caught in his throat. "Beau, my son. Beauregard."
Beauhoth's face changed, his fists tightened. He grabbed Mrs Nancy's hand, tying them with a lenth of cord. "Put her upstairs in the dungeon."
"Father," Mr Regard said, bending to lift his cane from the floor. "This is Beauregard. Your grandchild."
"I know," said Beauhoth. "We've met."