Rose and Bane: (A Dark Paranormal Beauty and the Beast Retelling)

by Brea Viragh

  Except I had a sick feeling it hadn’t come from any of these monsters.

  I was so dead.

  The noise hadn’t finished echoing before the beast closest to me went flying, crashing into a tree so hard that the wood cracked.

  The fear from before seemed a distant echo to what I felt now. The bone-chilling terror that there was something else out there, larger and more deadly than the creatures that had stalked me. Black-tipped claws tore into the first beast to the point where it released its grip on me, shrieking.

  I’d never heard such an awful sound as the newcomer’s claws shredding through muscle and sinew. Blood poured as flesh was ripped from bone, the ground eagerly soaking it up.

  Unable to breathe, I crawled toward the tree where my knife had been thrown, keeping low to the ground. Trying to hide. My insides nearly melted at the next roar, and I hardly dared to look over my shoulder at the claws, the teeth, the carnage.

  “Run!”

  It took precious time for me to recognize that guttural syllable as a clear, concise word. My gaze darted toward the newcomer.

  It—he?—whirled around to grab one of the creatures as it tried to escape, darting for the dark cover of the surrounding woods. It would have made it had the bigger beast not taken hold of its tail, spinning it around and slamming its head against a tree. Then threw it to the ground and disemboweled it with one long swipe of deadly claws.

  “Damn you, I told you to run.”

  He dispatched the rest of the creatures with relative ease. I remained on the ground, half buried in fallen leaves and twigs. I’d managed to locate my knife, still gripped in my hand with my knuckles turned bone-white. Although he’d warned me to run, I couldn’t. I didn’t even try. The shaking was so bad that I would not have gotten two steps from where I’d fallen. It was all I could do to keep from splintering apart as I tried to make sense of what I was seeing.

  The beast rose to its full height with a snarl, his snout turned reddish-black with blood and his claws covered in the same. Entrails from the defeated creature’s sliced belly decorated the forest floor and stained the remaining grass an unimaginable color.

  Please, don’t let him look at me.

  The gods heard my prayer…and laughed at me.

  Feral rage smoldered in his eyes when he turned to me, and I flinched as if struck. “You shouldn’t be here,” he growled.

  I opened my mouth to answer. Unsurprised when nothing came out. Shocked further when the beast knelt beside me.

  He reached for me, but I flinched away from the bloody claws. Terrified, I raised myself into a sitting position before the shaking resumed. I knew I couldn’t stand. Not like this.

  “Why didn’t you run?” he asked, the tone still a growl but the words simple, plaintive almost. The wrath faded from his eyes, and at last the claws slipped beneath the skin.

  How could I explain that I couldn’t run? I had been paralyzed, hadn’t been able to force myself to move, to act, once he’d arrived.

  “You come to my doorstep and bring these beasts with you.” A shake of his head and then he rose, higher and higher until his shoulders blotted out the light of the moon through the tree branches. “The least you could do is say thank you. Otherwise you would be nothing but a pile of entrails on the ground. Or worse.”

  Worse? What could be—

  Oh. Yes. Eaten.

  Definitely worse.

  A frisson of adrenaline swept through me. Everything inside of me urged me to bolt this time. To do what I should have done in the first place and get far, far away from this place. From this thing looming above me with the strength and might of a god at his disposal. I remembered the sound of his roar and the primal fury it carried. As though the force of it had imprinted on my soul.

  The beast swayed once before dropping to his knees, eyes rolling back in his head.

  Now was my chance to make my escape. I should take it.

  Something stopped me. “Do you—” I began.

  Hands raised to his head, he moaned and panted. “Give me a minute, please. I need…I…”

  “Whoa, there. Are you okay?” I felt the need to move closer somehow and inched forward on my hands and knees.

  A howl in the distance echoed my inner sentiments when he suddenly pitched forward and collapsed, those deadly fangs inches from my legs.

  Chapter 7

  I sat huddled on the ground staring at the now unconscious monster who’d come out of the shadows to rescue me.

  Rescue me? No. Condemn me.

  It was like trading one problem for another larger problem, and this one with bigger claws and the strength to wipe out a colony of human-eating creatures.

  I am going to die tonight.

  My thoughts circled around that singular sentiment. But, I tried to tell myself, he’d helped me, he’d spoken to me, and now—

  What did I do next? The horse had taken off, long gone, leaving the two of us here with the remains of the flesh-eaters.

  I approached the monster slowly, his breathing shallow, the rest of him still and unmoving. Helpless. He’d gone from powerful to helpless in a breath. I had the knife in my hand; I could kill him now. I could rid the world of this threat, so strong and dangerous, before he had the opportunity to hurt anyone.

  Something stayed my hand before it even rose, and my palm grasping the knife lowered back to my side.

  “Hey.” I nudged at him with my toe to see if he would move. “Hey, you. Are you all right? Say something. Are you seriously injured?”

  The beast remained quiet, and when the silence continued for several more seconds, I reached out with my free hand, shuddering as I trailed fingers along his furry cheeks. Along the wet, cool blood that had sprayed on him.

  There was blood everywhere, in fact, and a brief pat of my own face assured me that I looked the same as he did. My fingers came away smeared in sticky crimson. The pain in my ankle and shoulder shifted to the rear of my mind as I took him in, my rescuer. And it was work not to give in to my fear at the sight of him.

  He sported a large, nasty gash adorning his arm and thigh where one of the monsters had gotten him. Blood seeped from the wounds to mat with his thick fur. His breathing uneven, the awkward rise and fall of his chest accented the bulging muscles there. A heavy brow of more dark fur obscured his closed eyes.

  A thread of recognition tugged at me yet I couldn’t place it.

  “Those wounds look bad,” I said out loud, peering closer at the slice in his thigh where the two pieces of skin hung open. “We need to get you somewhere. We need to find someone who can help you.”

  His doorstep, he’d said? Did that mean that the gray stone turrets I’d glanced before belonged to him? Perhaps there was someone inside who could—

  Oh. No.

  Ooooh boy.

  The knowledge hit me harder than a hammer on an anvil.

  Glancing down again at the stained tunic and the random cuts of muscle I could see through tears in the fabric, I knew my suspicions were correct. Dear heaven, what had I done?

  Merek Lyndon. The Crown Prince of Halsworthy.

  The Beast.

  My insides shook and I sank back on my elbows when I could no longer support myself. This was what magic could do, I thought with a churning feeling in my gut. This was what I had done. To him.

  Though night had fallen heavily, I still made out most of his face through the shadows. His body displayed enough human features for him to be recognizable as a man, in some respects. On the other hand…

  How I had changed him was unforgivable. Bullish forearms gave way to human-like hands covered in dark coarse fur, with lethal claws hidden beneath the skin, claws that could appear and retract at will. His lower jaw jutted out awkwardly and displayed sharp canines. Taller than a normal man, he would be closer to seven feet tall. Broad shoulders seemed to go on and on.

  Gaze rising higher, I took in the longish chestnut-brown fur in tangles around his face. A slight snout poked out where his nos
e should have been, upper lip protruding slightly to cover fangs.

  Human, yes, but a human mixed with something fiercer. More animalistic. Like a gargoyle come to life. There were attributes of both man and beast there, with both vying for supremacy. He was not entirely a man yet one couldn’t help but look at him without thinking of a wolf.

  I could have lumped him in with the creatures he’d killed if I hadn’t seen his eyes.

  Swallowing, I struggled to get past my rising nausea. Pushing it aside to focus on getting him some help for his injuries.

  He’d saved me. Now it was my turn to save him.

  I tugged on the fabric of his tunic to get his attention, or maybe get him to move if I were lucky. My leg twanged in a painful reminder of my own wound. “Come on,” I groaned. “We need to get you out of here. You have to help me. I can’t do it alone. I’m not strong enough.”

  No, even with my meager muscles and his help if he were conscious, it would still be a struggle to get him up. This predator, honed to kill without a second of hesitation, without remorse, and suddenly I had to get him to move by myself? It seemed impossible. I couldn’t handle his weight.

  I shivered again, thinking of how he’d come to save me.

  I did this to him.

  He looked this way because of me, and I couldn’t remember a damn thing about it. Good thing he hadn’t recognized me. Although I should have guessed his identity when I first saw him.

  Maybe I hadn’t wanted to. Maybe I had been too afraid. Of him. Of myself.

  Keeping my gaze down at his bloodstained paws, I didn’t dare glance around at the carcasses scattered around us. Instead, I held my own hands over him, facing down, closing my eyes. Reaching into that deep and empty well where power had once dwelled if only I could remember how to turn the key to unlock it.

  It was a bane, this forgetfulness. A curse of its own.

  “Please,” I murmured under my breath. “Help me get him to the castle. Please. I just need some assistance.”

  Whatever he was now was a creature of my own making. And he’d still saved me.

  “I need just a little…”

  A little magic. A little help to get us through the darkest part of night. Things always looked better in the morning and I would deal with the implications of this then, because nothing good would come from sinking into victimhood.

  Perhaps it made me just as much of a monster as him, if one were to try and balance the scales. But he’d killed for me tonight and I wouldn’t forget that anytime soon. My stomach heaved at the thought. I almost wished he had not.

  When I reached down for his arm, wind swirling around me, I felt something click into place. A shifting inside of me that made pulling him a little easier. His body slid along the ground with minimal effort, as though the ground itself helped him along, decreasing the drag, the unseen force that hadn’t wanted to save me when I called for it the last time.

  I exhaled. Perhaps the timing hadn’t been right.

  Either way, exhausted and limping, I managed to get the two of us ten feet away from the clearing. Then another ten. Until the turrets of the castle began to take shape in the distance and grow larger.

  “There now, Merek. Is it all right if I call you Merek? I’d like to think of us on a first name basis after everything that happened,” I grunted, “although I guess we’ll see once you wake. I’m almost afraid to see how our first conversation will go.”

  Speaking out loud to myself helped because I needed the comfort to fill the stillness and push past the pain. The magic thread binding me to Merek pulled taut with each step I took. It became harder to focus; my head felt dizzy. The clearing gave way to a deer’s path through the trees and I followed it without hesitation, moving in the direction I remembered seeing the castle.

  “Let’s get you home,” I said with a groan.

  I fought past the shaking in my body. The ache in my ankle became almost unbearable the longer I pulled him and several times I stumbled. My knees knocked into the ground hard enough to leave bruises. Sweat beaded along my brow.

  Trembling, I managed to get Merek up the steep incline and into the castle courtyard, the cobblestones uneven and overgrown with weeds. To the left and right I saw the remnants of a garden, now reduced to nothing but dead stalks.

  Ahead, the castle loomed, tall twin turrets on either side, and windows dark, some broken, some covered with wooden boards. Gusts of gray smoke curling up from chimneys clashed against the night sky. Old and ominous, waiting for something—and not in a good way. The castle felt alive. And hungry. Gargoyles and carved faces glared down from their timeless perches above the buttresses with eyes that followed my every movement.

  Should I turn back? Try to get him into town?

  Too late, much too late. What I thought of the place didn’t matter.

  I pulled the prince through an archway covered in black lichen and moss. Then I caught a glimpse of a single light from within the castle and I trudged toward the glow, ignoring my own pain as I tightened my fingers on the prince’s limp arm and willed the magic to hold a little longer, no matter the toll it took on me.

  My teeth chattered and I locked my jaw against the motion. A few more steps, one in front of the other. Then we’d be there.

  The wide double doors were thrown open by an unseen hand and I stepped over the cracked threshold into the main hall of Prince Merek’s domain. Behind us, wood creaked, and when I dared to check over my shoulder, I saw that both doors had closed once more, like two jaws of a predator waiting for its next meal.

  I didn’t want to think about the last time I’d stepped foot in this place. And what I’d done. Maybe not being able to remember was a good thing after all.

  The vast emptiness of the great hall stretched toward darkness and I saw no hint of life here. I saw nothing beyond the remnants of old tapestries and curtains, of broken and forgotten furniture. Old tarnished candelabras lined the first few steps of the great curving staircase to provide much-needed illumination. Wax dripped down and pooled on the marble. That must have been the light I’d spied earlier.

  “Hello? Is anyone here?” I called out.

  The cavernous halls to the left, right, and center all reflected the question back to me a thousand times. Tinny, eerie. Yet strangely familiar.

  I didn’t remember ever setting eyes on the castle before, and yet I knew I’d been here. In my dreams, in the pages of a book. In the sliver of cord binding Merek and me together thanks to magic.

  Shaking my head, I dragged him in silence toward the rear of the castle. A flash of movement caught my attention and when I turned, I saw myself. The mirror image showed a madwoman, pale and drenched in blood, her overly large shirt torn and her eyes wild. Her hair stuck out at all angles with twigs and leaves amidst the chaos.

  Who was the beast now?

  Tonight, I’d learned something about myself. Even if I wasn’t entirely sure I wanted to know, I learned I was weak and useless, worse than a newborn fawn in the forest trying to steer clear of the wolves. I could not defend myself, and I had a feeling that if I did not learn, I would not make it through another summer. I would stumble on my next step and not rise again.

  Hopefully this would be a good chance for me to be a better person.

  The castle appeared frozen, or at least that’s how it felt to me. In my mind’s eye I saw a giant clock with the hands stuck at a certain hour, a certain minute. Unmoving. There were pieces of broken crockery scattered about and grime on the windows obscuring the starry night sky. There were rusted locks and the hushed sounds of footsteps belonging to no one.

  I continued to drag Merek down a long hallway. Locked doors lined the corridor, with dust on the thresholds. I hoped the corridor would lead to the kitchen, delighted when I saw the gleam of a stove ahead. Thank goodness.

  Propping him up against the wall, I released my hold on him at last and almost dropped to my knees at the rush of energy leaving my body. My breath exhaled on a whoosh I couldn’t
control. It felt like I’d run a marathon in one-hundred-degree heat with nothing to eat or drink for days.

  “Is anyone here?” I called again when I’d caught my breath. The echo lessened in the kitchen, and although I swear I caught faint scraps of whispers, no one came forward.

  Alone at last?

  I was no doctor. He needed more help than I could give him.

  “You…stay here,” I warned him unnecessarily, swaying on my feet as black spots danced in front of my eyes. “I’m going to look for something to clean up those cuts and then we’ll see where we stand. If I can stand for much longer.”

  I followed the smeared trail of blood back down the hallway, peeking in door after door to search for gauze and alcohol. I’d have given anything for a first aid kit.

  I was nothing but a fool to think I could stroll in here and casually mend what I’d broken. I tried not to think about the guilt, the guilt rising up to strangle me with every step I took further into this man’s domain. I had done this. Loosed the spell, caused this gloom that had settled over each stone and brick and piece of wood. The sheen on furniture had dulled, at least those pieces which were still intact, and paintings on the walls were torn or shredded like old wallpaper.

  And Prince Merek was bleeding out in the kitchen.

  My fault. My fault entirely.

  I didn’t have the specifics I needed to break the curse or whatever it was I’d done to him. But I would try once we survived the night.

  Taking hold of another knob, I wrenched open the door and discovered the linen closet. Well, sheets would do the trick. They’d have to do since I had not been able to find a first aid kit to save my life.

  Or his life, rather.

  I brought the whole sheet back into the kitchen, grabbing a knife from a wooden block and tearing it into strips to bind him and stop the loss of blood. A quick search of a pantry provided an inch of brandy in a corked bottle. Enough. It would be enough.

  I saw no dust in the kitchen; the countertops were spic-and-span. A tea kettle sat on a burner, steam rising from the spout though no fire now came from the burner. That must have been the glow from the stove I’d spied earlier. Therefore someone had turned it off as I approached, although no one else had shown their face. Though it seemed significant, I had more important things to focus on, so my mind stored the information away for later.