My first time writing something like this, but I saw a musical production of Beauty and the Beast lately, and during around "If I Can't Love Her" (Beautiful song by the way, wish it could've been worked into the movie somehow.) I just had this idea. Like I said, not my usually category, but I hope you like it. Oh, quick note, this is under the idea that Beast was under the spell for 10 years. Kay.
Most of his first year was spent as a sort of extended denial and disbelief. Surely the Enchantress had made a mistake, he had done nothing wrong. These claws, this fur, he'd wake up tomorrow and it would all be gone. When he woke up the next day, he said the same thing. Everything will be normal tomorrow...
After months of tomorrows, only to look into the mirror and see the same fangs and horns, the same beastly face that stared at him with open-mouthed disbelief and fear, he realized that there was no mistake. He flew into a perpetual rage, lashing out at any one or thing, though under the curse the two were the same, only getting angrier when he saw the fear in their faces, or the claw marks left behind on the walls or furniture that he attacked. He smashed the mirrors, grinning wryly afterwards at the irony of 7 years bad luck. He slashed through all the pictures that he had had hung up as a vain young man, trying to get rid of their mockery at what he had lost. His servants, who had also been affected by that witch's curse, tried to calm him down, but he would roar at them loudly, and shout at them to go away, and they were all too frightened of him to go against his wishes. He locked himself in his room most of the time, locking himself away from the world with his rage.
Eventually the anger burned away into defeat. He still had outbursts of rage, but he had given up on fighting anymore. He was a beast, and nothing would change that. The vain hope of finding love only tormented him, surely it was an impossible dream. As the years away from human contact grew, he drifted away from old habits, often submitting to walk on fours, not bothering to put on a shirt in the morning, completely ignoring utensils, much to the displeasure of , the only one who seemed to have any hope anymore. If she brought anything up, he would growl her off, hating the sound even as it came out of his throat, and sulk back to his room. He stopped thinking about his name, who he was was long gone, never to return, and eventually so did his servants. His name faded to the backround, and he was only called what he was. Beast.
Defeat collapsed in on itself; turning into despair as his time dwindled to little more than a year left for the magic rose. He stopped talking to the others, only talking to himself or the rose, wondering about the unfairness and hopelessness of it all. For who could ever love a Beast? He shut his door, waiting for the end of his lonely life.
Away in a small French town, a young women looked up at the night sky, dreaming about far away worlds, and wishing for adventure and finding her true love. Soon, the two would be thrown together, each one fulfilling the others apparently hopeless dreams.
The end! Needed to have a ray of light in the dark, right? So, good?, bad?, meh?, R&R.