"Years ago," The old woman started, "Not quite far away from here was where our story took place. In a kingdom quite close by, now abandoned, not a soul to be seen."

She paused as she looked over the eager faces of the children. They were her grandchildren and had been left with her for the evening. There was no greater joy to her than to see the beaming faces of her grandchildren and eager eyes with pleading expressions, begging her to continue with the story.

As the last of them settled down she smiled with her thin lips, it was a gentle, loving smile, one that crinkled the edges of her eyes and straightened out the wrinkles on her cheeks.

"The old abandoned kingdom used to bustle with life," She continued, eyes glimmering as a picture formed in the minds of all that were present. The gift that she had was to mesmerize one with her tales and they were starting to take effect. " In the large castle where the King and Queen lived, there were cooks in the kitchen that made the most wonderful meals, one whiff and you simply had to have a bite! There were beautiful maids in black dresses and white aprons skittering around with dusters and rags in hand making sure all that you saw sparkled and the servants around the house left the occupants wanting for nothing. It was bright and cheery. Sunlight streamed through the large windows and warmed the house.

That day in particular everyone was extra busy, for the queen was in her chambers giving birth to an heir. It was to be their first child and the king was as excited as he was nervous, pacing up and down the hall in front of his wife's room. He worried for her health and longed to hold his family in his arms. On occasion he would follow one of the maids that was passing by asking several questions about the arrangements being made for the celebration that very night. There was to be a big feast in honor of the new heir, whether it was to be a prince or a princess.

After hours of pacing, he had tired himself out and was seated beside the large doors to his Queen's room. Beside him stood his 2 faithful servants, Shawn and Pièrre. Once in a while Piérre would poke fun at the king or make a joke with the intention of lightening the tension that hung in the air. Even if it wasn't received with best reception he still kept at it, for that was his nature. Shawn on the other hand was quiet and would only glower at his comrade when he made jokes, for that was his own nature. The King was acting rather uncharacteristically, for he always kept himself composed in front of his subjects. The man that was sitting on the floor with his disheveled hair in his hands only looked like their King. He certainly didn't act it.

Finally, when the sun was about to hide itself behind the edge of the earth and the candles and lamps were burning bright in the halls, the very door that the King sat by was opened. One by one the midwives filed out as he pulled himself to his feet. There were 8 in total that left the room and two more that left the room when the King stepped in. Piérre and Shawn were left outside, although they did not stand there but left to prepare the King's bath and clothes for the coming feast.

The Queen's room was dimly lit and the air had a strange smell. The King walked slowly toward his wife, who, despite her hair and tired face still managed to look beautiful in the dim lighting. She looked up at him from the bundle of blankets that were being held gingerly in her arms and she smiled. It was a happy smile, tired looking, but happy nonetheless. He stood beside her and had scarcely seen the baby before she whispered to him, " It's a boy."

The King leaned in and examined the face of his son all the while smiling at his fortune. The infant's face was a bright red from crying and squeezed into a grimace. His eyes were not yet open and he had a tuft of golden hair growing from his head. He tentatively reached his hand and brushed his son's cheek.

"Hello there," he whispered, as if he was afraid to frighten him.

"He looks just like you." His wife whispered, savoring his reaction. Her husband was on the verge of tears looking just as happy as she imagined he would be. As a man and the king, he refused to allow himself to shed tears, it might have been an exception but he refused to take the chance. They had been trying for quite a while. His kingdom had come alive with rumors that he was sterile or that his wife was the one who couldn't bear a child. There was even some debate as to who would be the heir once he died, since, they could not produce. The queen had several miscarriages that were all kept hidden and those who knew were those it concerned directly.

"I have to go get ready," He whispered to his wife. "You don't have to come." The pad of his thumb was brushing lightly against her cheeks as he examined her. Even with fiery red hair that was rather messy and large green eyes that were surrounded by dark circles, she had never looked more beautiful to him. She smiled at him.

"I wouldn't miss if for the world."

The king kissed her sweat-coated forehead lightly before rushing out of the room to ready himself for tonight's events. The workers had become sparse and he only passed about 2 on his way back to his wing. He walked briskly, rather excited but trying not to show it. He would show off his son proudly, a healthy boy too nonetheless. With a contented sigh he burst though the door to his wing and was accosted by several of his men all eager to dress him.

The prince grew up to be very handsome of course with a rather mischievous streak. He had already started breaking girls' hearts at his young age of eight. Unfortunately, living in the palace and encountering many problem-ridden subjects he became rather unkind. Rather ironic but so it was. There were those who would lie just to get something from the treasury and there were those who would steal just to feel like they had more. His father was rather soft on them, the young prince thought. His opinions were confirmed when he was 10 one of his valets had almost kidnapped him. Once caught, the man was prosecuted and despite being very much guilty, he got a lighter sentence than the prince thought he deserved.

It would be several years till he would be allowed the throne and the prince became very wayward and unruly. In his own mind, he would inflict onto them what his father failed to. He had not been disciplined enough it seemed, neither parent wanting to distress their only child. The king and Queen were kind people and carried them selves with an air of respect. Their was son was unruly and had bedded and raped many a female before he was eighteen."

The old woman surveyed her audience. There were droopy eyes all round with one or two of them still bright-eyed. Perhaps it was wrong of her to mention rape. No matter. She cleared her throat and adjusted herself in her rocking chair.

"And then what grand mother?" One of them piped.

"Oh don't stop now Nan," Another protested.

"Oh quiet down, I'm not finished yet little ones." Their grand mother pulled the large quilt that she had sown for them over their tiny bodies and tucked it under their chins. She settled back down and her wooden chair rocked back and forth gently.

"Now, where were we? Ah yes." She cleared her throat again. " Through out the kingdom everyone associated the prince with a bad name. His future subjects thought him no better than an uncultured swine. A lot of the women he bedded didn't mind, for he was handsome and a generous lover. Those that had preferred to preserve themselves were taken by force, though most ended up liking it, a lot of them were miserable, for no man would ever want them.

In addition he was cruel and wicked. He paid no mind to the sate of poverty that his future kingdom was. The prince thought they deserved it for not working harder and he increased taxes, justifying it with their empty treasury. It was images of the poor that came to beg for helping the kingdom that motivated him. If they needed help then they would with their own money. It would be two years before he took the throne. Once he had taken it, he ruled with an iron fist. His first priority was to conquer more and more of his surrounding kingdoms. As a result he was on his way to building an empire.

Despite the advice of the old king, he continued to spend more and more on armies and feasts and balls and women. The villages that surrounded the kingdom were alive and beautiful. Against the dark night sky they glowed with lights and there was always music floating into the ears of visitors. Outside of that was disastrous, there were people starving and the men were working and making just enough to pay the taxes, meaning families were starving. The once long line of subjects had dwindled and sometime later disappeared completely. It was announced to them that the treasury was empty.

It pained the old king to see the son he was once proud of tear his beloved kingdom apart. The people were suffering but his son's heart was hard, even against his pleas.

"Quiet before I throw you out old man," He had shouted at his father every time the old man had come to talk to him. It was hopeless.

When the prince was still young, a lad of 25, he lost his parents. It was an armed robbery; they were common as a result of the poverty in the kingdom. They had been returning from a neighboring kingdom trying to control the situation that their son was throwing their beloved home into. Their heads were severed; it was out of spite that the robbers had done it, a small victory to them. A lot of the kingdom had mourned but there were those that celebrated; it was something to hurt the young king. The authority was truly hated, specifically the prince. The criminals were caught and dealt with cruelly. Words like pain and torture were reinvented in the minds of these killers, the prince refused to kill them.

"You're a beast!" One of them had shouted after him, drool and blood spilling out of his mouth. The man's face was a mess of swollen purple bruises.

"I like that," The prince retorted. "You my friend are very creative."

His leg was severed the next day.

The robbers were not crowned as heroes, for the prince was even worse. Driven with rage and sadness, he became the very definition of a beast. Savage became another synonym for his name. There were less celebrations and more fighting, there were more mercenaries and soldiers doing whatever it was they wanted in the villages. There were more men being taken to join the fights, this forced the women to work hard in order to fill the gaping holes that was left behind by their men.

It was a depressing time.

The prince however was not aware of the dark magic that was being practiced in his lands. It was very rare but its presence was still feared. There were still those among the occupants of the kingdom that made pacts with the devil. Magic was more desired and witches were often visited. One unfortunate day the prince encountered a witch. She was dressed as an old woman, hunched over with her face covered by a dirty grey shawl. The king's men were not entirely heartless and on her insistence they let her into the palace to see the king.

"I was just passing," she had told him as he sat on his throne. "I'm in need of some shelter, my daughter and I."

Behind her was indeed a young girl of about sixteen. Her hair was an odd color of pink and her eyes were large and green peering innocently at the prince. A smirk found itself onto his lips.

"I will have your daughter for the night." Said the prince. " I will have her anyway, if you disagree you simply won't be given shelter."

"Your highness, she's a virgin." The old woman pulled her daughter closer. "Please sir, have some mercy."

"You think I don't know she's a virgin?" With a flick of his wrist the old woman was whisked away all the while resisting.

"You can't do this," she was yelling.

"I'll do what I please."

She was thrown onto the garden that was situated at the front gates of the castle. Her shawl slipped off and revealed pink hair. The woman looked around her and spotted a part of the garden that was decorated with orange roses. It was a color she had never seen and thought it fitting to be a lifeline.

"You will surely regret your beastly behavior my king."

That night in his chambers, the young girl who had cowered in the corner suddenly rose. Eyes blazing, stance solid, she began to recite.

Your cruelty and savagery that knows no bounds,

Tainting even your very beauty.

You will live with the stain like a hound.

Until you think your self less of a deity.

An orange rose was produced from thin air. It floated unhinged by anything. The witch's eyes glowed bright and it scared the young king, if he was being completely honest. The rose was also alight and there were sharp cracks of thunder resounding outside. The wind was blowing hard outside and he could hear it hissing as it brushed several things outside.

"Silence," He said with more courage than he felt, he had to do something.

"A fitting lifeline for your beauty." Her voice sounded otherworldly. The man found himself taking a step back.

Once the petals begin to wither,

You will find yourself in a spiral,

Once the last petal falls,

You will become what you are,

A beast.

Nighttime will become your reprieve.

Feel the pain that you caused all around

Release that which had tainted your soul

And rest assured that no beauty will cover you ugliness.

There was another crack of thunder, this time followed by lightening. So bright was it that the young king shielded his eyes to avoid being blinded. Once his arms dropped, she was gone. On the floor lay the orange rose that floated in front of her. He sneered at it.

"Probably not worth the trouble." He murmured to himself.

There was a knock on the door. At his beckoning a large man that was guarding his doors entered. No sooner had he entered however, than he started recoiling, running back the way he came.

"What is it?" The king growled. This strange sound grew from his chest and it surprised even him. He looked down at his hands, nay; in place of them were paws, large paws with black claws. Somehow he didn't have pads but something akin to palms and his fingers were barely visible beneath the fur. Across the room he eyes the mirror and couldn't help but let out a surprised gasp. His face was ugly and hairy. It was distorted in such a way that made him look angry. Gone were his long golden locks replace with pointy ears. His jaw was still set and strong but he had some sort of snout, he looked like a beast, a terrifying beast. There was a loud howl and then a growl.

Anger filled him, and he found himself roaring. That witch would pay! She would with her dear life. He tore down doors with his now larger frame, everyone who saw him ran from him, refusing to take any order for fear of their life. The kingdom was sparsely populated now. Soon enough, it was empty. The maids stopped bustling and the valets were long gone. There were no guards at doors, nothing; a lifeless palace was all that was left behind. After searching the kingdom and realizing this, the king's anger became sadness. He found himself in the throne room; shoulders slouched as he stared at his throne. It meant nothing now, there was no one. Never in his life had someone run from him. He never realized that his looks meant that much.

The gold shone from the seat and he stared at his sad blue eyes, they were the only thing he had been allowed to keep. They were his father's eyes, dazzling, mesmerizing, like cut sapphires. The king covered his face, ashamed of how he looked and distressed at the reminder that was left behind. Now that he was truly a beast he didn't want anyone actually seeing him. That witch had ruined him.

He ran back to his room, remembering the incident when she had cast the spell. Words ran through his head and the spell it self was pieced back together. There on the floor in his chambers lay the orange rose. It was vibrant, every bit as beautiful as he thought it would be when he asked someone to plant them. For the first time in his life, the king sat on the floor and cried.

For years after that he chased away anyone that dared set foot in his territory. His empire had diminished and a forest grew, thick and green that surrounded the palace in place of the village. There have been many men who have ventured and never returned, suspected to have been hunted and to this day you can still here the sad howls of the beast longing for something true"

Soft snores met her ears and she smiled at here grand children. All of them except one were asleep. The oldest of them was just barely awake.

"Was he left all alone Nan?" She asked in a low voice. It could have been as a result of her drowsiness or her attempt not to wake her siblings.

"Oh, no. The most loyal of his servants were trapped with him. They were unable to leave the palace, forced into serving him. They were being punished for being docile while their people suffered."

The old woman sighed as her last grandchild embraced the darkness that sleep offered. Her eyes fluttered closed as her Nan watched. It was getting late and she had to get to work herself at dawn. She stood up slowly and blew out the single candle that lit the room letting darkness fall in the small room.