Chapter One:
I closed the book, and leaned back into the tree. It smelled of pine, and the soft drizzle of rain only made the air crisper, cleaner.
The leather in my hands was soft and I caressed the gold letters. It always made me a little sad to leave behind a story. Characters I had invested in, and a plot I had craved for, was over and that was it.
I gazed down the hill and looked at the village at its feet. It was bustling with arguments and laughter. I watched the people in a daze, my head still in the last page of the book.
After a moment, the church bells rang, and an even larger crowd swarm out of the cathedral and the busy streets became cramped. The heads appeared bobbing side by side and weaving through.
A tall black haired man held my attention for the moment, drawing me out of the book.
Gaston. He was roaming the streets, yelling her name.
"Bell!? Bell are you here?!"
I dropped the book and laid it in my lap.
His ponytail of perfectly silky raven hair bobbed as he looked up the hill and saw me.
Gaston had the face of poets. Painters drooled over his cheekbones and carvers longed for those arched brows. In all the ways a man could be beautiful, he met up to them. The only imperfection laid in his smile. All charm, but no warmth.
I watched helplessly as he climbed the small hill and plopped down beside me.
"Bell." He grinned at me, rubbing my back.
I fought the urge to cringe. "Yes, Gaston?"
He gave my back a final pat and leaned back against the tree with me.
"It's Friday." He droned.
I rolled my eyes and lifted a hand to rub the headache out of my temples.
"Gaston, must you?" I almost begged.
"I must." He laughed, and reached into his trousers. When his palm reappeared a small satin box sat in it.
"Bell, will you marry me?"
He had been asking me every single Friday for six months, and my answer remained the same.
"Very well." He replied lightly, not at all disturbed at my refusal, and wrapped his hands behind his head. "I shall not give up on you my sweet, you are my life."
I scoffed. His life, that was just obscene. I was worth exactly the amount of wrinkles I had on my face. To him, my appearance was all that mattered, despite his sickly lies.
He glanced over at me and crossed his legs. "You laugh, but it is true." He leaned up and looked at me with intent eyes. "I could make you happy."
"Gaston, you could make me about as happy as a prisoner."
His bright blue eyes flickered with annoyance, but the persona kicked back in and he leaned back, smiling.
"Bell? Bell?" Bellow us in the square, my father was searching for me. His bald little head had wisps of white hair that framed his merry green eyes that matched my own. In his hand, he held a contraption of his that was currently puffing smoke onto the more delicate of ladies entering the shop.
Oblivious, he continued to search and with a small smile and picked myself, grabbing the book. Without a word to Gaston I began to walk down the hill.
"You know, our marriage would be very advantageous for you family." Gaston gestured to my father as he came up behind me.
I looked over at him with searing eyes.
"We are doing just fine on our own thanks."
He only rolled his shoulders and sent a little wave to a group of three young women cooing at him.
"I can see that." He replied sarcastically.
I just focused in on Father.
When we reached the bottom of the hill, my already filthy dress was an inch soaked in mud, but I hardly noticed.
And Gaston, being the prince that he is, did, and gave me a little more space.
A little smug about annoying pretty little Gaston, I grinned and approached my father, who was now apologizing to a lady in a pink gown for getting soot all over her new handbag.
"I'm very sorry madam, be sure to- Bell!" He greeted me, and waddled over to me, giving me a hug. He was a full foot shorter than I was but made up for it with his rosy plump form. He gave a curt nod to Gaston, and pulled me away into the crowd with him to home.
"He wasn't giving you a hard time was he?" Father grumbled as we climbed into the wooden coach.
I giggled. "Nothing I couldn't handle."
He puckered his lips and squinted his eyes. "If I was younger, I would-"
"Be chasing after all the other young ladies." I finished for him, and after a moment, he smiled and patted my knee.
Gaston patted the coach and sent a wave through the small window at Bell. She grimaced at him and turned away. When they were about a hundred yards away, he turned and started for the pub.
Bell could hide, could fight him. But he would have her. She was the only one worth him. Her beauty was unmatched by any other despite her rags she wore for clothing.
But he would fix that, he thought. Once they were married, he would dress her in the finest of silks and present her to all the courts at all the balls. Once he had her, their journey up the social ladder could begin.
He fingered the box in his pocket and made a vow that he would have her before the next Friday.
The rose, held in a halo of blue light, gentle released one of its beloved petals.
With a clawed hand he caught it and crushed it in his fingers.
There was so little time. So little time.
The shattered mirror before him displayed his already beastly face in horrifying fragments. His canines, long and white were exposed when he growled at the image.
Petal still in hand, he walked over to the mirror and threw it on the side of the wall. The glittering pieces fell and he watched the candle in the corner send shards of light across the room with the help of the shattered glass.
The room was alight with hope. At least, that was what he pretended. He needed some comfort, some sign.
He was so alone. So desperately alone. He, longed for companion ship, longed for someone to love. But that could never be. Not with this body.
He looked down and saw russet fur and a strong muscular frame. This was no gentleman's body, this was the body of an animal.
Suddenly very tired, he dropped to his knees and looked up at the floating flower.
It was strange how something so beautiful, could signify something as horrible as death.
The melancholy took over, and he let himself go limp and fall to the floor, cradling the petal.
Why, why did the woman chose this? Of all things, of all ways to suffer, how did she stumble upon this? It was the perfect sentence for his crime. Living alone in all his hate. But it had been so long. The flower, still had ten petals placed around its head, but before, it had thirty. That was almost a hundred years ago. He had learned his lesson, hadn't he?
Darkness threatened his vision and he watched himself in the reflection of a shard. And slowly, slowly, he drifted off. The only escape he was allowed in this hell.
Hey guys! This is the first chapter in my new story! I hope you liked it! I am really excited and have a whole lot of twists this is going to take. Leave a review telling me if you think Bell is ready for what's ahead! Also feel free at anytime to leave questions, I will respond to them in your personal inbox!