Written for Creative Writing class prompt: Rewrite a fairy tale.
Belle and the Beast
The dark castle gates stood high above her, ominous and imposing. The sharp points at the top seemed impossibly high, as did the cracked stone of the wall it connected to.
Belle sat atop her horse, shivering, almost frozen by the fear that consumed her. Such dark rumors surrounded this place, terrible stories of travelers who came and never were seen again and the fearsome howls from a beast not of this Earth.
But there were no howls- there were no sounds at all. Everything was eerily quiet, as it had been since she had entered the dark woods.
The trees surrounding her were taller than the wall, and much older too. They were bare, and the dark branches, heavy with snow, seemed to be hands corralling her in the narrow path. She did not stare at them for too long, as it made her feel trapped.
The faint howl of a wolf, quickly joined by its brethren, startled Belle from her stupor. Taking a deep, shuddering breath she dismounted, patting her steed on the neck, more to reassure herself than him. He tossed back his head in response, ears flicking back and forth nervously.
Letting the reins fall from her gloved hands Belle walked up to the old gates, peering through the thin bars.
A gasp passed her lips and she wrenched the gate open, running through to pick up the object lying half buried in the snow.
It was her father's hat.
Desperately she looked around the courtyard or the castle, searching for any other sign that her father was here and alive. There was none, only broken down carriages and snow covered bushes.
Her gaze went to the stones steps leading to the enormous front doors. Her heart jumped as she saw one was ajar, and she ran for it, her papa's hat clutched tightly in her hand.
She slipped inside, shutting the door softly behind her.
It was dark and musty, but even through the gloom Belle could see what once was a beautiful castle. Faded tapestries decorated the walls, sitting in between large, draped covered windows. Rugs adorned the stone floors, and ornate pots, filled with dead flowers, sat atop the ornate furniture.
But for however wonderful it once was, now it was lonely and eerie.
"Papa?" She whispered. Slowly Belle made her way up the grand stone stairs to the second floor. She glanced around her, her eyes playing tricks in the dark. The suits of armor standing attentive in the halls only served to startle her as she turned the corner at the top of the steps. She inched past them, the feeling that they were staring at her growing stronger with every step.
"Papa? Are you here?"
There was never any answer, no matter how much she called, and soon Belle became lost in the maze of rooms. Her love for her father was the only thing that kept her from running away.
It was near twenty minutes before she found her father.
A metallic smell had been steadily filling the air as Belle's shouts grew louder. It was a smell she was very familiar with, and it filled her with dread.
A door stood slightly open in the hallways. Here the smell was strongest, and it was accompanied by a faint buzzing. Belle came to stand by it, her hand hesitating against the smooth wood. Taking a deep breath she pushed it open.
The buzzing was caused by a swarm of flies that hovered over a torn carcass. The stomach was torn open, pieces of guts and flesh strewn across the floor. The ribs stood jagged and white against the red that covered the body and surrounding area, pooling in large amounts under the body and the limbs that had been tossed across the room.
Belle stumbled in, bile rising in her throat as she stumbled over to the body. Glass crunched underneath her feet and she looked down to see her papa's spectacles.
It felt like the ground dropped out from underneath her as she fell to her knees, unable to make a sound as she stared at the glasses. Tears streamed down her face as her shoulders began to shake.
A low growl cut off her strangled sob and she flinched, eyes wide as a dark shape in the corner began to move.
Claws scraped along the ground as the shape stood. It seemed to grow, filling the entire room. Demon yellow eyes gleamed at her from a massive face and sharp white teeth were barred.
The thing growled, similar to a dog but at the same time unlike anything Belle had ever heard. As it grew closer she could make out the ugly dog-like nose on its short muzzle, see the coarse brown fur that stuck out at odd angles. Its horns, crooked and sharp, scraped along the ceiling. Its broad chest heaved with growling breaths, and its arms, apelike and adorned with two inch long razor sharp claws reached forward, digging into the floor. The hindquarters were wolf-like, and a bushy tail rose behind it, bristling with anger.
Belle could not move, could not yell. She was frozen, staring into the eyes of this beast that was certain to kill her. Her breath came in short gasps as it grew closer, jaws opening, tong lolling out in anticipation of its next meal.
Then, with a dreadful, angry howl it leapt, and the last thing Belle knew was pain.