Beauty and the Beast by Mrs Skinner
Translated by SnapeSeraphin
Chapter 3 The encounter
A bone-chilling cry pierced the sky. He raised his head, listening intently. Without a doubt, it had been a female voice that had cried out. There, another one, louder and more piercing than the first. It appeared someone was in danger, serious danger.
Why should he care? He was an outcast, not a soul knew of his presence here. Unmoved, he continued on his way.
And then he started to reconsider. Should he not go and see what was going on, at least? If he showed himself, she would probably shriek even louder; nobody could bear the sight of him, especially not when he appeared unannounced. On the other hand, why should he care about other people's problems? He had more than enough of his own. With loathing he looked down on himself; he would never get used to his appearance. Shaking his head, he continued on his way in the opposite direction. Surely there was somebody else nearby, who had also heard her crying out and would come to her rescue.
The woman screamed again, longer this time. His steps slowed and he came to a halt again. "Damn it," he cursed softly. There were stirrings in him of something closely resembling a bad conscience. Could he really deal with the fact that someone in his immediate vicinity was in dire need of help and he was doing absolutely nothing?
"You're a cold-hearted bastard," he told himself sternly, even as the warring voice inside of him was getting louder and louder and kept him from making a decision. He stood there as if rooted to the spot and listened intently. If she were to scream again, then he would.... At that moment, he heard her again. Cursing more violently now, he turned around and quickly moved in the direction of the screaming. On his way he picked up a large branch: you never knew what you were dealing with. The screams were now interminable, making it easier for him to ascertain where exactly he was apparently needed so desperately. Growing increasingly worried, he sped up his already fast pace even further. Foregoing any and all caution now, he swung his makeshift bat around, hitting smaller branches as he forced his way through the thick underbrush.
She cried out again, more desperate and very close-by and then he saw her. Without faltering, he hurled himself from the underbrush.
Fearfully, panic clearly visible on her face, she had pressed herself against a large tree. She had raised her arms in a defensive gesture, as if that would help her! An entire pack of wolves had surrounded her, seemingly mocking her with their opened maws. A threatening growl was heard; they were out for blood.
That would probably explain why it took the beasts a couple of moments to realise that there was somebody else, somebody who might help this female...or somebody who might just be dessert.
But he was an experienced fighter; he had fought to the death a large number of times in his life and he didn't want to give these creatures the time to adapt to the new situation. With an exceedingly loud battle-cry, bat high above his head and swinging around as if it were nothing but a light wand, he threw himself in the midst of the wolves like a madman. While running, he pulled a large knife from the waistband of his tattered trousers. Before the animals had a chance to react, he had already slit two of their throats. With limbs jerking and blood spraying everywhere, the two fell to the forest floor.
There was a moment of silence, then all hell was breaking loose: the wolves all focused on the newcomer, regrouping and continually attacking him, one after the other. But he had also chosen a tree to cover his back and with apparent ease he warded off these creatures of the forest. One after the other dropped to the floor, either after having been hit with the bat, which he swung with force at their heads, or having been pierced by his large knife, which he employed with great skill and precision. It took less than five minutes for the forest floor to be soaked with blood and littered with dead wolf-bodies.
Still, there were a couple of wolves left. They steered clear of this unusual man, but kept circling him, continually searching for a weakness. Intently and continuously he watched the animals that were circling him; sweat was pouring down his face and his greasy gray hair was stuck to his head. He knew it wasn't over yet. The bat in his hand was getting more and more heavy though, the battle demanding an incredible amount of power from him, but he didn't want to give in. If he was going to die, then he wanted to take as many of the creatures with him as he could possibly manage. His eyes focused on the young female that was still pressed against the tree anxiously and had followed his progress. Her large, fearful eyes moved back and forth between him and the other monsters; she looked somewhat familiar to him. But now was not the time to search his brain. Besides, he was wondering what she was still doing here; she could have been miles away by now, the stupid girl.
He cleared his throat. "The next time they attack, you run," he ordered her in a rough voice. Hermione gave no response whatsoever, staring unseeingly at the wolves that were circling him. "Pay attention, damn it and listen to what I say, woman!" he cried angrily. "When I say so, you start running, and quick and whatever you do, don't look back! Do you understand?"
"But I can't leave you here alone," she argued, her whole body shaking, yet she wasn't moving from her spot.
At this moment, the wolves decided to attack. Together, they fell onto the man against the tree and buried him beneath their furry bodies. Hermione heard a muffled "Ruuuuuun!", then his voice was lost in the wolves' growling.
And still, she remained where she was. She just couldn't tear her gaze away from the fighting creatures. She couldn't see him behind the wall of black, moving skin, the large fangs and even bigger claws. But she could hear how his knife buried itself in their flesh with a hideous, squelching sound, he still defended himself, he was still fighting....but for how long?
After a seemingly endless amount of time, there was movement in the indefinable bundle. Hardly believing her eyes, Hermione watched as a visibly stricken, extremely ugly man covered in blood from head to toe, slowly worked his way from under the all but lifeless bodies of the wolves. His knife was still striking out at the wolves' throats and he mercilessly slit those of the remaining surviving beasts. Hermione couldn't look away from this horrible spectacle; she stared at the massacre as if in a trance.
Swaying and all but at the end of his powers, the man staggered to the side when his gory work was done. He reached a patch of forest floor that wasn't soaked in blood. With a heart-rending sigh, he fell to his knees, breathing heavily. He turned his head and his wandering eyes met hers.
"You're still here," he uttered incredulously. But at the moment, it didn't seem very important. He had won and even survived. He was bleeding from numerous wounds though, he saw as he looked at himself, furthermore his whole body ached. 'A little time to rest,' he thought and tried to breathe more slowly, in an attempt to suppress the ache in his limbs. He didn't pay the least bit of attention to her anymore; she would disappear soon enough, now that the danger was truly gone, he assumed.
He sensed she was coming closer though and immediately tried to keep his distance. He lurched to his feet and gave her a bewildered look from bloodshot eyes. She was the only one, the only one who didn't run off screaming as soon as she saw his face. Large, shimmering brown eyes were looking at him with compassion. He moaned softly. Compassion was the last thing he wanted; she should just go and leave him the hell alone.
"Go...just go away." His voice sounded clipped and worn.
"You're hurt," she countered softly, moving slowly closer and raising her hand to touch him.
"Don't touch me." He sounded almost horrified, staggering backwards.
"You need a doctor; you have large bleeding wounds, not to mention the fact that you probably need vaccinations against tetanus and rabies. Let me help you." Hermione didn't understand him.
She gave him an appraising look. There was hardly any part of his body that wasn't covered in either his own or the wolves' blood. Despite that, she could still see how incredibly hideous he was. The closer she got to him, the clearer the particulars of his misshapen body became. Regardless! He came to her aid and had even risked his life for her; she couldn't just leave him here like this.
"Please," she started, "I could help you. Let me take a look at your wounds."
"Listen to me carefully, you ignorant wench, I don't need your help. You will go away now and forget you ever saw me. I will manage just fine without you. Not to mention that fact that I wouldn't even be in this mess, if you hadn't been so foolish to take this route. What were you doing here anyway?"
His voice was cold and dismissive.
"I was on my way to Thornhill....and besides it's none of your business what I was doing here." She was slowly getting angry. "The forest doesn't belong to you, after all. I didn't know it was so dangerous to pass through here. God, I had never even heard about wolves being here."
Breathlessly, she stood in front of the hunchback, furious that she had to fight with her saviour like this and still so shaken by the whole event, that she couldn't completely suppress the trembling of her hands.
"Woman, if you had stayed on the road, you would never have gotten yourself into this situation. Now get lost already." When she didn't leave, he decided he would in her stead. As dignified as possible in the given situation, he turned around and was about to disappear into the underbrush of the forest.
"Where are you going?"
"Home, where else? Not that that's any of your business, either." He didn't even turn back.
"Wait a minute! Are you saying you live here in the forest? There's nothing around here!"
She backed away in fear as he whirled around and hobbled quickly towards her, still bleeding and now livid. "How would you know what is or isn't around here? You didn't know about the wolves either! Yes, I live here and it's not your business in any way, shape or form. Go home, woman! I find I don't feel like saving you again. From wolves or anything else."
He raised his hands, in order to push her away from him with force, changed his mind however and stuffed them into his trouser pockets when he saw the horrified glance she threw his deformed fingers.
"Don't worry, I won't hurt you," he mumbled, turned and moved away.
"Won't you at least tell me your name?" Her voice was clear and friendly and somehow slightly apologetic. Rather unusual for someone to pay so much heed to a creature like him. He wasn't used to it. He pondered briefly.
"Linus Manley." He increased his pace; he wanted nothing to do with this exceedingly curious female.
"Nice to meet you. I'm Hermione Granger," she said to his back.
He faltered, his entire body stiffening. Then he resumed his way, a little faster still.
"Not nice to meet you. Not at all nice to meet you," he gasped, almost panic-stricken and leaving a trail of blood behind, disappeared behind some trees.
AN: I like this chapter so much, that I couldn't stop translating it and, in hopes of you all liking it just as much as I do, I just had to upload it right away. Don't be shy and let us know what you think ;-)