Belle the Beast Tamer

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Belle the Beast Tamer Page 3

by Pauline Creeden


  Exhausted, I laid on the patch of grass for the next thirty minutes, staring up at the sky. Stars scattered across the sky in patterns I couldn’t quite recognize in the small patch of inky blackness I spied between trees. Stifling a yawn, I sat up and figured it was time to set camp. Putting together the tent, I hummed a lullaby my mother used to sing to me. Once finished, I sat, began twisting my ring, and pulled out my journal.

  I’d never been cut off from society before—not like this, not alone. It was peaceful at first. It still was. But I missed the routine at school, my friends, even some of the teachers. I was afraid Dad had called or the school told him. He would worry for me, when he didn’t need to. Whatever happened to Mom wasn’t going to automatically happen to me. The Guardians wouldn’t risk my life like this.

  I closed my eyes a moment, took a deep breath, and started writing,

  Today I am grateful for:

  The music of the forest.

  The freedom to shift.

  Food supplies.

  Goals:

  Replenish supplies with whatever is available.

  Go over the maps again.

  Search the area fully.

  I closed the leather-bound journal, placing it gently in my bag and pulled out the maps. I actually mastered my class in cartography at school and loved using maps to help me find my bearings. I recognized the topography on the map and figured out my location based on the gentle slopes and dips of the land as well as the stream I had found nearby. My stomach rumbled.

  “Not now,” I whispered.

  I grabbed my clothes and decided to gently wash my tank top out in the stream. The cool water refreshed my spirit and even eased some of the tiredness I’d felt. After rinsing the shirt and hanging it to dry, I pulled off my clothes again and washed myself up as well. Once clean, I put the dry clothes back on and put a bit of rose oil on my wrist. The gentle scent helped me feel just a little more civilized even though I was in the wild. Nibbling on a granola bar and sipping on my water, I looked over the map once again, feeling refreshed and determined. I took notes of the suspected areas of the dragon’s whereabouts. The map was color coded—red highlights for the most likely place the shifter may be hiding and orange and yellow for less likely places. Blue was for places that I ought to avoid altogether. So far, I had been walking in a yellow area. North of me, there was blue—but there was also a bigger stream and thus the possibility of fishing—and having a better meal than granola, soup, and crackers.

  I continued to sip my water and decided to head north in the morning. I would be of no use in my mission if I did not replenish my stock of food and digest some protein. Besides, if I continued going north, I’d eventually be in a red-marked area.

  *

  After two days of walking and searching the red area of the map, I had found nothing so far. Though I knew it would take my much longer to make any progress in this case, each day without any new information created a panic in me. What if I failed? Just as I was about to make camp, I noticed a clearing in the distance... and a small cabin. It was just outside of the red area, but who knew? My heart quickened, and I decided to investigate. Perhaps it was an old ranger station... I had heard of those. If it was, they might have supplies leftover that I could use. Curious and eager to see what was inside, I opened the unlocked A thin layer of dust collected on the shelves and furniture. The furniture seemed old and beaten. The musty smell caused me to cough which then caused me to jump, my eyes darting.

  I caught sight of myself in the dusty mirror. My wide-eyed stare looked ridiculous. I swallowed and shook my head. No one was here, and it had been at least a little while since the last inhabitant.

  The small cabin had a living room area, a bedroom and a small kitchen. I decided to look through the cupboards, hoping to find some supplies. Although the shelves were bare of dust, I only found one expired can of sardines. Nothing else. It didn’t seem like anyone had lived here. Maybe this was just a place people visiting when camping?

  I continued my exploration and stepped into the bedroom. Next to the bed, behind the nightstand, I found a small door. I would have missed it except that the dirt on the floor looked as if someone had moved the nightstand to the side somewhat recently. After pushing the nightstand in the same way, I opened the small cubby hole which housed several loose sheets of paper held down but a heavy chain and cuff. I pushed the chain aside and grabbed one of the papers. Scribbled in hasty handwriting, the word “Guardians” sat at the top. Goose flesh rose on my arms, and I peered around the room, wondering suddenly if someone might come back to the cabin even though it seemed abandoned.

  Once I felt assured I was alone, I tilted my head at the paper, reading the rest of the words. Torture. Stolen. Those words didn't matter though, because I noticed a list of about ten names and as I started reading them, my heart stopped.

  There in the hasty handwriting I read, “Rosangela.”

  “Wh-what?” I shook my head, turning the paper over and then looking again. This couldn’t be. Could it? Before I could even process why my mother's name is on a piece of paper in a mostly abandoned cabin in the woods, I heard a door slamming open, hitting against the wall. I jumped, dropping the papers. There standing before me was a tall young man with dark hair and darker eyes.

  Do not engage, the Guardians had warned me.

  This looked a lot like engaging.

  Why did I come in here? Why didn’t I stay on the outskirts? This wasn’t a red area. I thought this was safe. Maybe it was not him, I reasoned with myself. Maybe he had nothing to do with shifters. I could only hope, as I breathlessly tried to introduce myself. “Sorry, I didn’t realize this place was—”

  "What on earth are you doing here?" the man roared.

  The hairs on the back of my neck stood on end. Even if this guy wasn’t a dragon shifter, I was in danger. It was better if he didn’t know I was alone. “I was just hiking, and I got lost… from my party … and I thought this was like a place with a radio and…”

  “What gives you the right? Who are you?” His eyes flashed red, and I knew, without a doubt, he was a shifter. And could be the dragon.

  I opened my mouth, but I didn't know what to say. Don't engage.

  "And my things! Why would you go through that if you were looking for a radio?" The man glared at the papers strewn about the floor. "Why are you looking through my stuff? I’m gonna ask you one more time, who are you?"

  Before succumbing to fear, I remembered my training. Quickly, I focused my energy and could feel it pulsate and burn throughout my body as I shifted, my bag already looped properly around my shoulder. The burning and the pain were the least of my worries as my muscles ripped through my clothing.

  The man’s eyes grew wide as he watched, but I didn’t have time to take stock of much more than his expression. As soon as I was no longer in human form, I dashed past him as soon as my four paws hit the ground. I hoped with my strength would knock him out of my way. Just as I was about to escape out the door, my body was thrown to the ground and a sharp pain spread from the back of my head all the way down my spine. Darkness consumed me.

  Chapter Four

  I sat on a wooden swing that my father had tied to the big oak in our yard. I was flying high into the air. My mother stood behind me, pushing me so high I could almost touch the stars in the night sky. I noticed my arms weren’t as long as they should have been. I was a child again, flying off the swing and shifting into a tiger as I landed. I looked back to my mother, waiting for her to join me, but she simply walked away.

  I roared, begging my mother to turn around. Why won’t she look at me! I collapsed on the grass in my human form. Tears streamed my face. “Mother! Come back!”

  *

  "Mom!" I cried, my eyes fluttering open. "Where are you going?”

  Light came pouring into my vision and I blinked a few times to be rid of it. Where was my mother? I heard a male's voice in the distance—was that my dad? Dad. Oh no. I was lying to my dad. But w
hy? I couldn’t think straight.

  I tried to sit up, but my head pounded. Was I sick? I certainly felt sick. I hugged my arms around my cold body. I looked around, trying to figure out where I was though my bleary vision. I saw a shadow and jumped. I blinked at it until I could see the human form of it.

  "Where am I?" I whispered to the shadow and blinked a few more times until my vision slowly started to come into place. That's when the memories hit—full force. The assignment, the cabin in the woods, and that man—the one who stood silently by the door.

  “You, Intruder, are in my cabin. Would you like to tell me what you were doing here rifling through my personal belongings?”

  “I… I…” I stuttered, deciding to remain silent. Ignoring the questions and reaching for my bag, but it was gone. That mean my beacon was gone, too. I looked back up to the man, eyes wide.

  He stopped me. I never saw him shift. Did he stop my tiger in human form? No way. And if he did stop me, why was I still alive? What did he want with me?

  Then I realized. I was nearly naked. I only wore an oversized t-shirt and a pair of boxer shorts. Had he dressed me? Blood rushed to my cheeks.

  “Answer me, now.”

  I growled and rose to my feet. “I don’t need to do anything you say. You ought to answer me! Who are you?” Taking a deep breath and steadying my nerves, I asked, "How did you stop me?" Frowning, I looked back up at him and awaited his response. I felt vulnerable sitting there under his scrutiny. I knew he was the one who had every right to ask my questions—not the other way around, but my confidence and anger proved affective.

  "I am a shifter as well," he explained, his tone harsh and unyielding. “Now, will you be please be kind enough to explain what in heaven’s name you’re doing in this cabin? Did someone send you?”

  “You’re a shifter? What kind?” I asked, then blushed. It was a personal question and I had no right to ask him that—even if he was the dragon I was seeking. I was positive he hadn’t shifted before knocking me out. I swallowed. When I thought about how strong he had to be in his human form, it sent chills down my spine. "Why are you hiding out here?”

  “I could ask you the same thing.” He smirked. For a moment, there was a playful tone in his voice, but it was quickly replaced with a harsh one. “That’s not any of your business.”

  Since he was answering me, I continued to pry. “Don't you work with the Guardians? It would be so much easier than—”

  “Never! Don’t ever say that name again!”

  Shivering, I simply nodded.

  His eyes narrowed at me. “Enough. No more questions.”

  I bit my tongue on the questions I had, but then his words started to sink in. Again? He didn’t want to hear their name again? He wasn't going to let me leave. I was a prisoner. Though I wasn't sure if my captor was the beast I hunted, I knew that I had failed my assignment. With my beacon gone and no way to communicate with anyone else, I could only figure out a way to escape on my own. I only hoped I could do so before my father found out what happened. He’d never trust me again; it would break his heart. Twisting my ring nervously, I realized my dad was right. I was about to end up just like my mother—gone. Thinking of my mother, I looked down at my ring and remembered the name on the sheet of paper. Rosangela. It wasn’t a common name and instinct suggested it was more than a mere coincidence.

  I looked back up at him. He looked to be about the same age as me, maybe a few years older. There was a slight curl in his longish, dark brown hair. In this light, I could see that his eyes were a darker shade of blue. Those eyes still watched me, but the words I wanted to say choked in my throat. If I asked him another question, would he get violent? I swallowed. But what if he knew something about my mother? My whole life I had always wanted to know what happened. In the darkest corners of my mind, I wondered if my mother simply left because she didn’t want to come back to me and Dad. What if this man had the answers I’d longed for my whole life?

  But what if he didn’t? What if it was a different Roseangela? What if this shifter killed me or kept me captive for the rest of my life so I could never return to my dad? As much as I wanted answers about my mom, I wanted to get back home to my father more. Fear and anger boiling inside me, and my hands fisted. I tried to push my way past the mysterious man keeping me. He wrapped his arms around me, looping his arms through mine and holding them tight against my back. I trashed about, trying to break free of the hold that prevented me from moving anything but my head and legs. I screamed and kicked him, and for a moment I even considered shifting. It was a foolish thought, I knew instinctively that he would only knock me out again during the process. I squirmed and cried, "Let me go! Let me go!"

  “I’m sorry,” I heard him whisper in my ear.

  “Then let me go!” I cried. “Please!”

  "Only if you promise to calm down," he snapped, but his voice remained gentle. I felt his breath against the back of my neck, and shivers raced down my spine again.

  "Fine!" I bit off. What other choice did I have? I could continue to trash in his arms until my body ached, or I could agree to be a submissive prisoner. Every cell in my body told me to fight, but my heart knew better. I was not getting out of this situation using brute strength. I needed my wits. In the mere moments that I heard his whispered apology, I knew there was something more to this man than what met the eye. I would get out of here—I told myself—and he would let me go. My heart slowly calmed as his grip loosened. I just had to manipulate the situation to my advantage.

  Only one problem, I had never even manipulated my parents into letting my stay up past my bedtime. Or my father into letting me come home. This wasn’t like shifting, and this most certainly wasn’t something school had prepared my for.

  Reluctantly, he released his hold on me. He stepped back and gave me space and leaned up against the wall. A tired, bored expression came over his face, and I couldn’t help myself. Despite my resolve to battle this with wits and psychology, I darted for the door again. Even faster, he threw me into the same hold and slammed me against the wall. That was gonna bruise. I groaned and squirmed, trying to break free of his grip. Everything stopped when I noticed the cuff and chain attached to the wall. The same chain I’d seen earlier in the cabinet. Without so much as a word, the man slapped the cuff around my ankle. The cold metal bit into my skin.

  “No!” I cried. All this time, I thought this assignment meant freedom, but now I might never leave this cabin or see my family and friends again. The mere thought chilled my to the core, and I tried so hard to keep from crying. I didn’t want to show weakness, but what did it matter now?

  I collapsed on the floor, sobbing. I cried for me father. My mother. My friends. The Guardians whom I had failed. Each tear, I shed away all of my hopes and dreams for the future. I’d played a dangerous game, and I had lost. I should have told them no. Why didn’t I just listen to my father? I continued to choke on my sobs.

  "Don't be so dramatic," he muttered.

  Her eyes flashed over to him, wide and angry. “Excuse me, but I think have every right to be dramatic right now. I am being held hostage. You… You monster.”

  “So I’ve been told.” His jaw tightened a tick before he shrugged. "Anyway, there's a bed right beside you. It might be more comfortable to cry on than the hardwood floor.”

  “How can you even live with yourself?” I spat.

  “Quite comfortably,” he responded.

  His nonchalant behavior unnerved my even more. I spit at his feet, stood up, and walked to the bed. "Thank you for being such a great host," I seethed. “It’s a pleasure to be held hostage by someone such as yourself.”

  He didn't respond to my taunting. He peered at me a moment with-half lidded eyes, turned his head, and walked away.

  I huffed. "I don't even know your name!”

  He shut the door behind him. Instinct told me to keep screaming, but it was of no use. If only he could hear me, why bother?

  Curling into fetal posit
ion, I sobbed. I didn’t care if he heard me, my soul ached with a pain that was new and foreign and all consuming. When I finally ran out of tears, my mind went back to my mother's name on the list. I would find out what that list meant. I would figure this man out and save myself, no matter what.

  Hours passed and I tossed and turned in the small bed, which was more like a cot. I took note of every detail of the room and tried to recall my visit through the rest of the cabin. I thought of what the strange man said—why did he hate the Guardians so much? Perhaps, I wondered, if I pretended to hate them too… would he let me go? My thoughts grew hazy. Weak and hungry, I pulled the thin blanket around my body. The chain reached comfortably like he promised, but it wasn't comfortable at all. The cold metal against my skin kept me awake for the longest time, until exhaustion finally claimed me.

  When I awoke, the cabin was silent. Morning light barely broke through the window on the far side of the room where I couldn’t reach. On the floor by the doorway sat a granola bar in its wrapper. My stomach twisted. I was hungry, but right now I didn’t feel like giving him the satisfaction of feeding me. Maybe I’d even go on hunger strike. I ignored the green wrapper.

  I was too restless. I pushed the chain to its limits, and paced back and forth in the tiny room. I thought this assignment meant freedom, but now I was even more confined than I was back at school. I should have never left. I wondered if anyone was looking for me. Doubtful, I figured, since I would still be expected to be looking for the dragon. After too much time had passed, they'd eventually grow concerned. They would look probably for me... but would there be anything to find when they did? The thought chilled my to the bone. I couldn't let my mind get that far ahead. I had to take it one moment, one day at a time. I'd find a way out this—I had to believe that.

  “Hello?” I called out and waited.

  No answer.

  When I was certain he wasn’t coming, I decided to shift. Maybe the tiger’s ankle was smaller than mine, and I could slip out of this metal cuff. I concentrated on the burning and bending of my body, and attempted to shift. But the moment I did, a stinging sensation crawled up my leg, and I couldn’t find my tiger. “What the—?”

 

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