Some ways off, there grew a mysterious wood. No one dared trespass in this wood for any who had, seldom returned. In this strange and forbidden wood stood a castle. This castle was also enchanted, and captive within was a nameless beast. It is here, in this enchanted castle in a strange wood, where our story begins.
He stared out the window at the pouring rain. It was always dark here as if his castle was locked in its own dungeon. When the sun shone, its light never seemed to reach this magnificent palace or through its numerous windows. The sun always seemed like a small, golden sphere shining its light everywhere except on this accursed place. In his hand he clutched a rose that was his love and fear. It was a curse just as much as a gift. It was the only beautiful thing in the palace, but it was also the most fearsome. One solitary petal dropped onto the floor beside his ghastly feet. As he stared at the petal, a distant door seemed to creak and he heard the indistinct voice of an old man.
He would have left him alone but for the voices of two servants that welcomed the man in. What they offered this man appalled him to the greatest extent. Who is this trespasser who DARES enter my prison and sit in comfort as I wait miserably for this nightmare to become reality? How DARE my two servants offer him what I have strictly forbidden to any male passer whether he be young or old? With these thoughts pulsing through his mind, he ran down the stairs and burst into a room lit with a warm fire. The wind from the opening of the doors blew the brilliant flame to nothing but smoldering coals.
Amidst protests and endless pleading, he dragged the trespasser up the stairs to a tower filled with straw and cells. He threw the man into a cell and went angrily back to where his rose rested. He cradled the beautiful, fallen petal in his wolf-like hands and placed it in a jar along with the rest of the petals from the rose. He thought of the many other petals that had fallen to the ground. There were only three petals left on the enchanted rose. Only three more days till the curse was complete and there was no escaping his now horrible form.
In those three days he must love and get a female to love him in return. To that end did he still live. But it was hopeless to do what must be done to break this foul curse. How could a beast and a beauty fall in love over three days?
He brooded there for hours on end, thinking over his past life and then imagining the terrible life to come once his curse truly imprisoned him forever. As he stared up at the thick, grey curtain that was the ceiling of his prison, he wished that the sun would truly shine just once before this nightmare became his true but terrible reality. Here, the sky cried relentlessly, mourning the appalling curse that had been put upon him. It was as if the sky knew his future and cried for the loss of joy it would have. He could only imagine the despair and resentment that would come upon him if he never broke what the rose represented.
Slowly, as the moonless night wore on, his eyelids began to droop until he fell into restless slumber. He dreamed of his father and mother; opening the door to find an unsightly woman standing before him; the woman turning into a beautiful and powerful witch; becoming the thing he now was; and seeing what he wished to, but never would, become.
When he awoke, he noticed that yet another crimson petal had fallen to the floor. Stooping down, he laid it with the rest. Only two more till it was complete. It was against all hope that he wished for a miracle. He knew none would come, but without hope, what did he have to live for? Nothing. Wishing for something else to think on, he stared helplessly at his rose, willing the last two petals to not fall but miraculously stay immovable on the wilting flower.
He sat there brooding his unwelcomed curse, and yet another petal fell. He did not bother to place the solitary petal along with the others. He had no strength left. He let it lay there while he stared at it, unwilling to move or answer his servants’ pleading questions. It was almost over, his nightmare, but his now locked reality was just about to begin. He closed his eyes and slept, resting well for the first time since the rose had come into his possession.
He was awakened by the sound of distant creaking and the calling of a young girl’s voice. He started down the stairs at a more relaxed but excited pace than before. Upon reaching the bottom, he finally beheld the beautiful girl to whom the voice belonged.
She was a little thing and he seemed to wallow forever in the green ocean of her big, round eyes. Her face was pale, but her nose and ears were rosy for the weather outside was cold. Her dress was nothing extraordinary, made from simple cloth, but it complimented her body perfectly. Her hair flew unruly from her head like an irrepressible wild fire.
As he stared in wonder at this young virgin, he wondered if she could ever learn to love him. While his thoughts drifted to fantasies he knew would not come true, the young woman took notice of him for the first time. Her gaze pierced his soul. In her eyes, he saw his reflection: wolf-like face with human eyes, razor sharp teeth meant for killing, dark brown, almost black, fur covering him from head to toe, his frightening body morphed to be like a wolf’s but combined with a human. In here eyes, he saw himself but also saw fear.
“Where is my father? I know you have him,” she said in a shaky but demanding voice.
“He is my prisoner and is staying in the dungeons of the highest of all the towers in my castle,” he replied.
“Please, let him out and give him to me to take home,” pleaded the girl.
“Only if you stay,” he bargained, but against all hope.
“Not for all the love in the world could I stay with a beast such as yourself,” retorted the girl.
“Then take him and leave me. Be gone!” he yelled with sad finality.
As the girl ran up the stairs to retrieve her father, he turned and went back to watch the dying rose that would set the course of his future for time and all eternity. He went to the window with the rose in his hand and watched as two blurred forms struggled through the rain and out of the gate that bound him prisoner. As he stared, a single tear fell on the last petal of the dying rose, shimmering like a diamond resting on red velvet. Together, tear and petal fell to seal his doom as the Beast cried from anguished grief.
