Morbid Bite

I :: The Beast of Chartres

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MORBID BITE

Chapter One: The Beast of Chartres

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.

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A thick fog covered the road through Chartres to Blois, obscuring the way ahead. A black carriage appeared out of the haze, its four horses moving at speed, their breath creating vapours around their noses. The driver held onto the long reins with gloved hands, his huge black coat covering his entire body, keeping out the cold air. As the horses approached the edge of the forest they slowed down, reluctant to enter. All four animals began to back up forcing the driver to whip his arms harder and let out a low grunt on annoyance. They began to pound their hooves, the horses at the front shaking their heads and backing up more than the other two. The driver whipped the reins again, urging them forwards but he was met with stone statues.

"Why have we stopped?" a male voice yelled from inside the carriage.

"It's nothing sir," Pascal muffled. He jumped down, rubbing his arms and pulling his hood further over his head. He smacked the horse's haunch but still got no response. He sighed and ran his hand along the lead horse's body as he walked around to his head.

"Come on boy," he whispered into the horse's ear. The animal's eyes darted around in the dark, scared stiff at the monster that lurked in the darkness.

Pascal turned around trying to see what the horse was looking at. All he could see was the road ahead. He pulled at the shire horse's bridle and led him onwards. The large hooves echoed in the gloomy night adding an eeriness to air around the carriage.

Pascal shivered and bent his head around to look deep into the forest that now hugged him on either side. He felt as though something was watching his every move. But as he felt the horses picking up on his nerves, he shook it off and put it down to an over active imagination. He had been the driver for the Novacek family for over ten years, and he had never failed to arrive on time. He led the horses further along the road until he was certain they would carry on without him. He hurried back to the steps and began to heave himself back up to his seat. When he heard a twig snap; this time he was sure it was not his mind playing tricks. He unclenched his hand from around the metal rail and headed towards the sound. He stared intensely into the woods certain there was something lurking in the mist and undergrowth.

"Hallo," his gruff voice leaving an echo in the air. There was no reply, so he turned back, convinced it was now his tiredness playing tricks on him.

Annabelle watched Pascal as he strolled over to the forest, his small beady eyes glancing out from underneath his facial hair and hood. He carefully made his way over to the edge of the road and stood there for a while staring at the darkness.

"Annebelle," her father grumbled, his blanket draped over his bony legs keeping out the cold.

"Yes father," she replied her mind elsewhere.

"Do you remember everything I have told you?"

"Yes Father."

She watched as Pascal seemed to yell out into the nothingness, his gloved hands rubbing together. He then came back to the carriage and jumped back up, rocking the compartment where she and her father sat.

"The Baron of Blois, has a passion for Mérens horse - which he breeds on his land. He enjoys dances... Belle, are you listening to me?

"Yes Father."

The carriage began to move again but much slower than before. The trees still merged together in a black mesh of trunks. Belle was terrified about what to expect, at the occasional social dance she would hear rumours about The Baron of Blois; he was meant to be a placid man with huge wealth. The previous Baron had recently passed away leaving his son with a substantial inheritance. Belle could not comprehend why he had chosen her as his wife. She was never the centre of attention at any evening, her sisters would dance and sing, but she would always hang back and let them shine.