Disclaimer and Author's Note: I do not own anything Disney-related. This story is quite a different interpretation of Beauty and the Beast, therefore the characters, settings, and plots are mine.
The Mission
"You can stay here if you want, but don't expect me to entertain you. And don't get in my way. I have very important business to attend to, and I will not be disturbed."
After a journey of three full nights and days, Elle was exhausted. But now that she had reached her intended destination, she only felt invigorated and full of new life. She grimaced slightly at the back of the woman who was already halfway down a hallway leading to the right of the great mansion's heavy front doors, perceiving her at this onset as competition. But, she reminded herself as her heart soared a little with anticipation, how could he refuse her, who had journeyed three full nights and days at just the rumour of his being? She was truly a beauty – in the sense of being pure of heart – for she knew she could love the ugliest of creatures, and she felt she possessed the power to transform him into a beauty like herself. Next to that slovenly servant woman, she had it all. And now that she was a confirmed guest in his home, she would soon win his heart and live a life of luxury.
The place was nothing short of a small castle – or perhaps a large castle, at that, for Elle had never seen one before. Only in storybooks did the two-dimensional painting of a castle make it appear habitable – nothing more than a large house – but now she could see that it was much more the size of a prison, or some sprawling compound, for as she had stood at those brandishing doors determinedly in wait of reply from within, she had not been able to see the edge of the building when she looked left, nor when she looked right. Inside, it was something of a labyrinth, at least from this angle, with stone-cast hallways leading off this way and that, some to her surprise diagonally; a single set of stone-cast stairs led upwards and crawled over the low ceilings of the first floor, but it led only to darkness and to as mysterious a place as any of those hallways. Elle chose the staircase as her first step of exploration, feeling intuitively that to move up would mean to move to safety. She lightly ran her fingers over the bumps and hollows of the wall which followed it as she climbed. But why should she think of her safety?
A hollow cry that bounced repeatedly against the walls and whooshed past her from above sent a chill down her spine and gave her ample reason to fear. But the adrenaline coursing through Elle's body only made her smirk at the high-pitched sound as she continued marching up. Safety, perhaps, did not await her at the top, but surely the signs of suffering which she less-than-cautiously approached would bring her all the closer to her ultimate destination – The Beast.
Suddenly a clatter of footsteps behind her on the stairs caused Elle to momentarily lose her balance. As the servant woman who had greeted her so coldly leaped past her, she grabbed on to the wall for support and regained her composure. "I thought I told you to stay out of my way!" the woman shouted over her shoulder. "This is not a place for fun and games!"
The woman must be running to attend to she who had cried out. No fun and games for her, perhaps, Elle imagined, but Elle had come on a mission. She had come to fulfill the fairytale dreams of her childhood, everything she had always lived for. And if Elle did not live through this night then it would only be a game which she had lost, and to her even death would prove fun – the ultimate thrill, something not even an animal man could provoke in her – and she determined to wear her confident smile into whatever awaited her on the other side.
At the top of the stairs, no source of light was to be found, but Elle felt her way along the single hallway with her hands. It was damp here, but pleasantly warm, and Elle thought she smelled the sweet bitterness of an aged wine on the air. She could get used to this place; perhaps death was like this, requiring only the calm and meditation of an individual who was content no matter where she was, yet commissioned by some deep desire to continue walking until she uncovered the primary source of fear for so many others. Just as her hand touched wood, the heavy, odorous wood of a door, Elle felt a chill brush past her, raising the hairs on her bare arms and calves. This place was full of haunts, to be sure, but they did not scare Elle into retreat, but only encouraged her to continue on her way.