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December 1, 1615

Afternoon

I made good progress today. And now that I have had both breakfast and dinner, found sufficient shelter, and a good spot to relate my story I shall gather my courage and finish recording the most horrifying, the most terrifying and most heartbreaking ordeal in my life since the loss of my wife.

The Beast practically flew up to the highest tower dragging me from staircase to staircase, muttering and snarling as he went. I

begged and pleaded with him to let me free. He roared into my

face. I couldn't make a sound after that. We made it to the top of

the tower to my prison where he then threw me roughly to the ground inside the cell.

"This is your new home now." He paused and then let out a feral roar. "Get used to it!"

How long I was in that cell I'll never know. I just know that there could never have been a longer time in my life. I had never been so uncomfortable either. When I wasn't trying to find a comfortable spot on the merciless icy stone floor, I was trying to curl up in the damp rotten hay that only made everything worse since I never did get a chance to properly dry myself.

To get my mind off the current irritations, I turned my thoughts to my daughter. My sweet, beautiful, little girl would be left by herself and I couldn't do a thing about it. I knew she was a strong, capable woman but I also knew that it would devastate her that I did not eventually come back, and she would be left as an orphan. And the worst part of it was not knowing what happened to me. When I did not come back from my trip she would surely worry, and then as the weeks, months, and years passed the uncertainty would eat at her daily and make her suffer so horribly. The thought was almost too much for me to bear. I couldn't stand it that my daughter was about to be hurt, and so unimaginably. She never deserved anything like this. I went through a series of emotions that eventually left me exhausted. First I was very frightened. And rightfully so, I may add. Then I became angry as I thought of my daughter left all alone, with no family left. All I could hope for was that she would find a good husband who would love and protect her and take the best care of her that was possible. And so I then became exhausted and resigned. I fell asleep remembering my wife and our life before all this turmoil entered our lives. I don't know how long I slept but I woke up surprised where I was and then remembered I was supposed to be in this damp, dark place for the rest of my life. More time passed before I heard a familiar voice. At first I thought I was hearing my wife's musical, heaven-made voice and thought I was dying. In all the years she had been gone, I had never forgotten her voice. But I soon realized that I was still very much alive. It turned out to be the voice of the very young woman I had been thinking about.

"That's funny…I'm sure there was someone." Then more clearly. "Is anyone here?"

Amazement filled my heart and soul as I answered her.

"Belle?"

"Papa!" she cried, rushing toward my cell.

I was suddenly overwhelmed with joy to see her and a great amount of pride in my daughter. It was hard to explain, but I knew I had never been more relieved or happier in my life! I could hardly believe what my eyes were telling me, that my daughter had suddenly appeared in front of my cell. It was truly a miracle. I crawled quickly to the door and gripped the bars.

"How did you find me?" I asked excitedly.

She did not answer but instead grasped my hands. In her hands, there was the warmth that this dungeon lacked.

"Oh your hands are like ice! We have to get you out of there," she stated firmly.

And then I knew what I had to do. I was so happy to see my daughter, and nothing would have pleased me more than for us to devise a way to release me from my dark, damp prison so that Belle and I could ride back to the village as fast as we could and never look back. But I also knew deep down in my heart that there was no time for anything of the sort. I had to persuade my daughter to leave me here and go back to the village to live out the rest of her life happily. If that demonic creature found her here there was no telling what he would do to her, and I had to do my best to make sure he did not hurt my little girl. I felt an overwhelming sadness that my daughter would have to go so soon after our reunion, but I forced those feelings far into the back of my heart and concentrated on the task at hand. I could mourn later; right now, my daughter needed to get out of this cursed place as fast as humanly possible. Now she knew where I was. That at least would give her some measure of peace.

"Belle, I want you to leave this place," I told her urgently.

"Who's done this to you?" she argued, looking a little angry now.

"No time to explain!" I said, desperate for her to be gone before the monster showed up. "You must go. Now!"

"I won't leave you!" she exclaimed adamantly.

And then the worst thing happened. She was discovered.

"What are you doing here?" came the savage growl.

I know he grabbed her shoulder to fling her around to see her, but in trying to do so, he did it too roughly, and before either of them could see each other, the torch that Belle had been carrying had been doused in a nearby puddle.

Thoroughly frightened that my daughter was about to be brutally and savagely massacred, I screamed for her to run!

"Who's there? Who are you?" Belle called out, sounding shaken.

"The Master of this castle."

"I've come for my father," she said bravely. "Please let him out. Can't you see, he's sick?" she pleaded.

"Then he shouldn't have trespassed here!" the monster lashed out at her. That evil creature had actually dared to shout at my daughter!

"But he could die! Please, I'll do anything!" I was astounded. And frankly quite worried. My daughter never ever begged, except a few times during the course of her mother's illness, I had overheard her praying alone in her room, fiercely asking our Lord for a miracle, a cure so that Lydia could recover and we could be a family again. I prayed also, but it was Belle who prayed ceaselessly and unendingly. And yet when she left us, Belle's faith did not diminish. "God works in mysterious ways, Papa," she had told me quietly after I had angrily asked why my wife had been snatched from us like that. "He has a plan for us. We just have to trust Him, and know that everything will turn out fine in the end. As long as we trust in Him, and support each other, He will be our strength and we will overcome anything. Mama is in heaven; she won't hurt anymore. Our Lord has a reason for everything, and a plan for us."

Now as the Beast glared icily at Belle, she stood her ground, as strong and unwavering now as she was then.

"There's nothing you can do," the beast replied coldly. "He's my prisoner."

"Oh there must be something I can…wait!" she cried.

The monster, about to leave, turned back as if he'd been expecting her to ask.

She leaned forward, looking more vulnerable and forlorn than I'd ever seen her.

"Take me instead." Oh no. Oh no!

"You!" the beast said scornfully. Then he appeared more thoughtful. "You would…take his place?"

"Belle no! You don't know what you're doing!" I cried out, my panic increasing every second.

Seeming to ignore me she pressed on. "If I did…would you let him go?"

"Yes," the Beast whispered. "But you must promise to stay here forever."

Belle suddenly looked a little uncertain.

"Come into the light."

And so he did. Slowly at first, but soon every last demonic feature, every last bit of this hulking hideous form was there for all to plainly see.

Belle gasped and recoiled, making a small effort to hide her shock and fear.

Slightly angry and more than frightened for her I shouted with all the authority and might I could muster.

"NO Belle! I won't let you do this!"

She again ignored me and bravely, steadfastly gave her freedom for mine. As much as I was frustrated and anxious for her, I was not disappointed. She was showing the same strength of character and self-sacrificing attitude as her mother might have done in her position. Thinking back on it I was never more proud of her than at that moment, when the spirit of her mother shined through most. If only I'd had more time to persuade her!

"You have my word," she said submissively.

"Done!" came the harsh reply.

As my cell door clinked open, I rushed toward my daughter who had fallen to her knees. I had to let her know, to try at least, that it was not too late to turn away from this decision.

"Belle," I said urgently. "Belle listen to me. I'm old, I've lived my life-"

Suddenly I felt myself being pulled away from the only one I had left to care about. I was dragged away hearing both my own cries for her and her cries to wait, to have more time. I was then treated to even less kindness this time than before. I felt my body being jarred by every step he made down the cold stone steps of each floor. And there are many floors in that bewitched fortress. I begged, pleaded, implored him at every turn to have mercy on my daughter, spare her life and let her free. My attempts grew weaker and weaker until, when we reached the outdoors of the bleak, hopeless mausoleum, he finally snapped back at me.

"She's no longer your concern! Take him to the village," he snarled.

I suddenly was hurled into a strange carriage-like contraption. I shouted to be let out but to no avail. It too ignored my pleadings and eventually hysterics. Before I knew it, I was ejected out of the carriage and into fresh, still-falling snow. I shook myself thoroughly and chanced to look up. I was very thankful and completely relieved to find myself in the familiar surroundings of Molyneaux. The simple, homey village houses comforted me and filled me with hope, hope that I could successfully get my daughter back. I scanned my surroundings quickly before seeing the tavern. Of course! Not only was that the place where there were the most people this time of day, but the one man who could successfully save my daughter was in there as well. I broke into a run, hope and fear for my daughter invigorating me.

Oh dear. The sun seems to have set long ago. I need to put this away and get my rest. I'll need my strength for tomorrow as I continue to search for that cursed castle. And my daughter. I shall now go to sleep. My shelter tonight is a small abandoned cottage deep in the woods. It's a fairly good one, with a working stove, a decent bed and stores of food to replenish my supply. Til tomorrow, adieu.

A/N: Thanks to all who reviewed!

TrudiRose: Thanks so much. It's weird because back-stories come to me like bees to honey. And as for the huge block, that had been an impulsive update. But no more! Thanks for reviewing!

LumBabsFan: Well I am glad to give him this time and he must be glad that this little inkling became a full-fledged journal. And thanks for reviewing!

Shortstef: I'm always happy to spoil my readers and reviewers with presents LOL. And actually if the stuff I wanted to be scary turned out a bit like Frankenstein, then that's great! I read the book and I truly liked it a lot, so if my story matches the horror elements of Frankenstein, the terrific! Thanks for reviewing!