Beauty and Her Beast

Enveloped in pain, Anna wished desperately to sink into unconsciousness, for only the sweet oblivion of darkness offered any release from the anguish she was in. She could still feel Christian as he bit and clawed her, trying to use her as nothing more than a receptacle for his needs.

Anna had always envisioned her first time of lovemaking being like all those storybooks she had read as a young girl. Her sisters had told her life was nothing like her books, but until this moment she had always believed in love everlasting. Now, she had nothing to believe in.

Gone were the glittering dreams of herself and Christian spending a lifetime together. She wasn’t here to lift a curse on a dark and handsome prince; she was stupid girl who had allowed her childish ideas to lead her to the bed of a monster.

Shivering in cold and pain, Anna tried reaching around to gather what was left of her gown to cover herself, but there was nothing but shredded linen and wool. She could hear Christian, somewhere close, sobbing. Bitter anger began to fill her; what did he have to cry about?

She saw his paws, covered in her own blood coming towards her, causing her to shrink back from him. The movement produced more pain than she thought she could withstand.

Slowly, painfully, Anna whimpered as she tried to stand, not hearing or seeing Agnes trying to help her, but as her feet touched the floor her legs betrayed her and she found herself falling into Christian’s outstretched arms.

“Please,” she begged softly, blood flowing out of her mouth. “Please… no more.”

Slowly, gently, and by the grace of God, Anna’s world went black.

Anna remained unconscious as she was moved from Christian’s room to her own down the twisting stairwell. Though he tried in vain to tend to her, he was forced to allow Melissa and Agnes to provide her care, both women warning of dire consequences if he touched her again.

As delicately as they could manage, the two women removed the ragged remains of her gown, gently bathing Anna’s cuts and scrapes in liniment and stitching the worst of her wounds closed. They then placed her carefully into her own bed, praying that she would live through the night.

“What came over you?” Agnes hissed at Christian closings the door to Anna’s room behind her. “How could you do such a thing to her?”

“I don’t know,” he said wringing his hands around a scrap of Anna’s garment he’d found on the floor, unable to meet Agnes’ eyes.

“What can I do?” he asked when the older woman remained silent.

“I think you have done enough,” Agnes replied, snatching the fabric from his hand and giving him a very cold stare.

Still unable to meet her gaze, Christian stood solemnly silent.

“I didn’t mean to hurt her Agnes,” he finally sobbed, “truly I didn’t. I don’t know what came over me…”

“Lust my lord. It is called animal lust. It is what the beasts of the forest and fields do, not humans!” Agnes screamed at him.

Christian stepped back as if he had received a physical blow.

“I didn’t mean to…” he breathed.

“It does not matter now Christian, it has to be dealt with,” and with that she left him alone in the hallway.

Christian stood rooted to the spot.

‘What have I done?’ he thought pulling handfuls of fur from his head.

Running through halls and staircases, Christian left a wake of destruction behind him. His magic surging and ebbing uncontrollably, shattering windows, splintering wood, destroying everything in his path.

He raged for hours, hating himself more than ever. He’d killed her, he knew it. The moment he stopped running Agnes would find him and tell him Anna was dead, gone forever. Racing to the top of his tower, Christian threw open the window, and without a backward glance, jumped.

As he fell towards the ground, he had time for one prayer to whatever god there was out there that he would finally be allowed to die and be free of his pain.

Christian roared as the thought of being the cause of her death struck him, sending a spike of pain through his heart. She would never love him again, and if not her, no one would.

Hitting the muddy ground below, he felt his bones shatter into dust before the agony of the magic began healing him. Screaming in rage at the injustice of being forced to continue living, he waited until he could stand before returning to rampaging through the halls of the manor. Reaching his room Christian saw the aftermath of what he’d done. His bed was soaked with Anna’s blood, shredded pieces of her night dress and skin were everywhere. Howling in rage he tore into the offensive thing, breaking the wood into kindling, sending pieces flying off his balcony.

It wasn’t enough, the smell of her blood and fear permeated the room. With tears of rage Christian tore apart his bookcases, shredding its contents into confetti, next went his bureau, then desk. He howled and roared as pieces of wood and scraps of fabric flew through the air.

It wasn’t until he ripped down the last tapestry, the one he’d hidden his portrait behind that his rage ebbed. Looking at himself, his real self, with wavy black hair, blue eyes and the arrogant sneer he’d always had, Christian fell to his knees ignoring the glass and wood that pierced his flesh.

It had been more than a century since he’d looked at that portrait, but now instead of hating the gypsies for cursing him, he hated himself for causing Alimina’s death. It was all his fault, everything. While he’d lost hope of being a human again long ago, it wasn’t until this moment, surrounded by the shattered, bloody remains of his room that he realized he’d just destroyed any chance of being the man Anna thought he could be.