Short Passages

Beauty and the Beast

Just a short scene I wrote based on the Beauty and the Beast from the Beast's perspective. Hope you enjoy!

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The room is casted in dark shadows, shafts of silver moonlight the only source of light as they streamed through the window that was left ajar. A smooth silence dominated the room, the only sounds being the mumbles and whispers of the wind outside, and the rustling of the undulating curtains that draped across the floor in its thick, royal red.

My heavy footsteps sounded throughout the room against the carpeted floor, breaking the silence in one swift motion. Slowly, I trekked further into the dark room. A steady tempo travelling through the cool, musty air. My eyes inspected the surroundings in the dim light, and involuntarily, I grimaced.

The wallpaper was shredded and torn to the extent that the intricate pattern designing it was indecipherable. Dust particles wafted in the air, and thickly layered atop the surfaces of the broken furniture that littered the room. To the right was a table that stood with a broken leg and was caved inwards through the middle in splinters, along with a couch that lay with peeling leather and menacing lean strokes cutting through it⏤as though an animal had ripped it with its claws. To the other side was an armchair left upside-down in batters, and the frame of a cobwebbed empty mirror with fractured pieces of glass diffused by it.

Flashes of hectic scenes crossed my mind, but I rapidly shook the memory away. A rising anger began bubbling within me, my body becoming stiff and my fist clenching with so much force, I felt a warm trickle travel down my hand and drip onto the floor. The heavy thudding of my footsteps sounded noisily in the silence as I continued towards the end of the room, where my eyes stay trained on the lonely, dormant object that sat atop a table. My footsteps stop abruptly, the silence falling again, and the moaning song of the wind becoming evident once more. I hear my heavy, rugged breathing in my ears, as my eyes gaze glued to the blossoming flower.

A beam of pure, silver moonlight highlighted the colour of its luscious petals. An enchanting vibrant red that seemed almost venomous⏤like Snow White's poisoned apple. Its long stem was a dark virulent green, embellished with several tiny razor-sharp thorns. And it floated off the table, shielded in its fragile and undamaged, cylindrical glass display case. The floating rose seemed to shimmer with an unknown substance, its petals pigmented with the most beautiful and exotic, unrealistic pinkish-red. But there was one petal, the outermost one, that seemed to lack the shimmering sparkles of magic. It seemed to wilt, and drooped lower, lower, and lower still, before the edge connecting it to the rest snapped. The petal floated down from the rose like paper would, a rotting brown overtaking its former vivid colour. It curled, shrivelled, then just before it touched the base of the case, it vanished. As though nothing had happened, only the number of petals on the rose had decreased. The remaining number of petals that flourished on the magical rose was...

Frustration and anger channelled through to my fist that slammed down on the table, table shuddering at the force and blood from earlier smudging on the surface. The glass case trembled and jolted at the movement, but steadied on the table and stood there unmoving and unaffected.

I need more time. The thought a booming presence in my mind.

I stared at my curled fist with hard eyes, panting heavily. But the sight I saw only fed the fire of my anger.

A fisted hand, but it was not the smooth, pale skin of a human hand. Instead, thick layers of golden fur replaced it, shining under the silver light from outside. I uncurled my trembling fist, watching as hard and thick claws appeared beneath the fur. Crimson blood trickled down and tainted the fur on the palm of the hand. My hand.

My vision clouded in a hazy veil, my teeth grinding together, my entire body trembling uncontrollably before an inhumane, feral growl reverberated in the room. So loud, the glass case the rose was displayed in would have inevitably shattered were it not reinforced by magic. Even to my ears, the low, guttural yell had a mixture of terrifyingly powerful emotions woven into it. Fury, frustration, misery and pain. The yelling stopped, and my throat was left feeling scorched, parched and dry, making it painful to swallow. It was only a few seconds into the stiff silence, did I realise why it hurt.

It was because it was me, who had made such a sound.

It was also because of me, who had unleashed my untameable anger, by inflicting the damage of this very room.

I stared into the glass of the display case, but did not see the rose. Instead, I saw the reflection of a monstrous face. With thick, golden eyebrows and masses of hair outlining a large face. Two horns protruded from each side of the upper part of the head, where locks of long hair swept down to the back. I gazed into the deep, steel blue eyes. The eyes that were mine, and the only part of the human me that remained.

For it was also me, who had been cursed for my selfish acts.

And until I find the perfect one before the last petal falls, the curse will taint my life forever.