This started out a creative project for English, until it occured to me that it was, in fact, a fanfic. I've never written anything quite like this before. Tell me was you think.
Beauty and the Beast: A Not-So Happy Ending
Elizabeth neared the bedroom full of trepidation. She did not know what it was that had her cousin so frightened, but she had a sense that it was the same thing that had haunted him since he'd returned from the university. What had happened in that place to affect so drastic a change upon her beloved Victor? What secret was so fearful that he could not bear to admit it even to her?
She did not light a candle as she entered the room, but went straight to the bed and sat on it thoughtfully. She did not try to sleep; she knew she would get none until Victor joined her. She had promised Victor she would not listen to the voices whispering doom in her ear, but alone that promise was much harder to keep.
A movement by the window caught her attention, and she turned to it curiously, and a little fearfully. A huge shadow covered the window, motionless. Elizabeth tensed, ready to flee the room. The shadow spoke, a low, gravelly voice that, curiously enough, held no malice.
"Will you, too, run from me?" it asked simply, and the resignation and loneliness in its voice gave her pause.
"Who are you?" she inquired in a voice that hardly quivered. The shadow paused.
"I am that which torments your beloved – that which he hates above all else, though I had done him no ill. I am the product of his accursed research, his quest to become God."
Elizabeth could not understand this. This, then, was the secret that had plagued her husband so long? "You say you have done no wrong, and yet you hide your face from me. Will you not show yourself?"
"I cannot, for if you see me you will run, and I wish to talk with you more. It has been a long time indeed since I have had the luxury of conversation. Permit me to indulge in it a while longer. Perhaps I can shed light on my creator's designs of late, since he has not condescended to inform you himself."
"You say my cousin created you, but the task of granting life belongs to God alone. What you are saying could not be."
"You doubt me, that is understandable. You know him as a kind and devoted friend and know not of those wretched circumstances that led to my birth. Here, I have his journal of that time, in his own writing, that describes each moment of that hateful time."
Elizabeth hesitated as a small book appeared on the windowsill, battered and worn. At length, she moved forward and snatched the book up. Despite the frightening revelations this night promised to bring, she felt compelled to hear this strange creature out. Slowly she opened the book, to what was unmistakably her husband's handwriting. Her hands did not tremble as she read, and her countenance was calm. She was quiet when she finished, and she kept her eyes downcast, hands folded neatly in front of her.
"So…this creature he speaks of…is you." It was a statement. "And he hides you from human eyes because they would not understand. And this is what causes him pain?" "No. This is not what causes him pain for Frankenstein could not bear to look upon what he had created. He fled, abandoning me when I had no more knowledge of myself or the world than a helpless babe, and endeavored to forget his horrible mistake. I was left to face this cruel world alone, not knowing what I was or why everyone ran from me."
"You lie." Elizabeth's voice was little more than a whisper. "Victor would not commit so terrible a deed.
"Are you so sure? Look back on all those years you have spent with him. Has he never run from responsibility? He always put the welfare of those he cared about above his own? When he was at the university creating me, did he once contact you, who were so worried about him? Were his own experiments so important that they overshadowed even his own family? Victor knew exactly who killed your precious William, and yet he was silent at your servant's trial. She paid for his cowardice with her life. Would she speak up for Victor's innocence? In my loneliness, I sought him out and requested that he create for me a mate, that I may not be so completely alone. Even this pittance, though, he could not grant me and tore up his second creation with his own hands for fear of imagined ills she might commit. Would she, not able to taste life for even a moment, call your husband blameless?"
Elizabeth closed her eyes. "Victor has been through a terrible ordeal. He promised to reveal the secret that has been plaguing me him so long when this night is through. Surely he had honorable reasons for doing these things. I have faith in my husband."
"Such loyalty is admirable, if misplaced. He no doubt told you that his tale will make clear to you the cause of his misery. Yet will you have him tell you he was the only one miserable? He will tell you of my wretchedness and barbarity, for that is how e sees me. And you will believe him, and praise his courage in surviving so terrible an ordeal, never once supposing that my ordeal was yet worse. I was created with a human heart, if not a human appearance. I felt happiness and sorrow, and felt love for the humans I watched as I learned how to talk. The world was new and full of magic for me, and I thought it and the creatures inhabiting it incredibly beautiful. Can you not imagine the agony I felt when I realized I could never share these things with another, that I was utterly alone in this beautiful, yet ugly world? In the face of humankind's cruelty toward me when I bore them no ill, can you blame my sorrow for turning to rage? Am I forever condemned to be considered the only criminal when humankind has done much worse?"
"You speak with sincerity, yet who am I to believe? You, who will not even show me you face, or the man I have loved since I was a child?"
"That is well, but consider this: Victor knows what I am capable of, and he knew that I would be here today. Yet he bid you leave him and come here alone, in spite of the danger. And when you are dead he will mourn for you, and no human shall be as miserable as he. He will seek vengeance for your death, and will include the scene when he tells another of his tale of woe. Such a tragedy as the death of his beloved will no doubt inspire sympathy for his plight. Yet all this will matter not to you who died without your lover lifting a finger to stop it. I wonder how he will word it, because of course it is not his fault, as it wasn't his fault when Justine died in disgrace, or when-."
"Stop," Elizabeth almost ordered him. Her eyes were no longer tranquil. Her hands shook ever so slightly.
"Of course. I would not want to burden your mind with proof that your beliefs are inaccurate. Perhaps it is better this way. You will die firmly believing in your husband. It is merciful – you will be spared the heartbreak when first misfortune to fall on your new family makes your devoted husband abandon you and your children because he cannot bear to see them in pain."
Elizabeth was silent. Then, she raised her head. "Perhaps what you say is true. If you mean to gain sympathy from me you have failed. If you mean to kill me, do so and be done with it. I will not abandon my husband, and whether or not he is worthy of my loyalty is for God alone to decide." She did not try to run. She no longer thought she could make it out of the room in time. Instead, she stared unflinchingly at the shadow.
"So be it." The shadow moved and stepped into the light, and Elizabeth could not hold back a scream that echoed through the entire inn.