He stabbed me? Really? I'm more shocked by it than angered. Oh, but he got me bad, I can feel it. If I can just sit with Belle for a moment, I'm sure everything will be alright. I can hold her, she'll hold me, it'll make it all better…

But she doesn't love me. That's why she left. She will never hold me.

I collapse across the balustrade. She helps to pull me across, to safety. By the time I'm on the balcony everything is growing dark, and the blood that should be fueling my body is merely puddling up in my lungs. I can barely even muster the strength to cough.

I don't remember sitting down, but she's laying me out like a ragdoll now. Her hands are upon me; I can feel them through the fur. I open my eyes and see her kneeling above me. Beautiful Belle. Like an angel. Just to see her again is enough. The vision is doubled, and getting blurrier by the moment. Still, I can't help but smile.

"You…" It takes me a moment to collect enough air to wheeze through a whole sentence. "You came back?"

"Of course I came back!" she answers. "I couldn't let them… oh, this is all my fault!" She puts her arms around my head and embraces me. But it's not the embrace of love — it's remorse for her own mistake. "If only I'd gotten here sooner…" she adds, sadly.

I'm not going to make it. I can already tell. "Maybe it's better… it's better this way." At least I won't have to live out anymore miserable years, horrible years, lonely years, as a monster.

She puts her hand to my maw. "Don't talk like that. You'll be alright!" She begins straightening out my clothes like that will fix everything. I'm choking so bad I can't hear the rest of what she says. But she's staying with me. Her arms are around me. She really is holding me. I try to look at her again, but my vision is almost gone.

I reach out to touch her. Let the last thing I touch be her. "At least I got to see you one last time…" I say.

It's like I can actually feel my soul leaving my body.

I'm suddenly floating over myself, watching Belle as she sits with me. I look terrible. Even for a monster, I look terrible. And Belle — an expression of horror crosses her beautiful face. She's shocked by my demise. She's gripping me by the shoulders and begging me to return, poor thing. I would love nothing more than to indulge her.

"Please don't leave me!" she says, and begins to sob on my lifeless chest. Then she whispers the most shocking words I ever heard:

"I love you!"

Even without a body I can feel my heart stir at those sounds.

Like a bolt of lightning, the sentiment shocks me back to life. I'm somewhere — I think in my body again. I can't see anything, but I can feel. I'm lighter than air. Something forces its way out of me, invisible, but like a pain suddenly healed, a poison expelled.

I haven't felt so good in… ever. I've honestly never felt better.

I open my eyes. I'm on the ground, but when I look around to pull myself up, I see human hands. My hands. I look down. I see feet. Human feet.

Belle needs to see this. I have to show her what's happened! I turn to her. She is looking at me, puzzled.

"Belle!" I cry. "It's me!"

I grab her hands. My hands, her hands — they fit together, actually made to hold each other. They feel so good in mine. But she withdraws, a look of skepticism on her face. For a moment I worry, but only for a moment. She strokes my hair, and gazes into my eyes. Those big hazel eyes, looking into my soul.

"It is you!" she smiles, recognizing me at last.

And we stand there. Just touching each other, examining one another. Until I dare — I lean in and kiss her, an intense, passionate kiss that thrills me all the way through. I could swear actual fireworks go off behind us.

A moment later the castle is swept up in light, returning to its old shining self, more brilliant than ever before. The servants are changing back to their real selves. My heart is bursting with a joy I've never known in all my life.

I have a future again. I have happiness again. And I have Belle — her love, her company, for the rest of my life. I embrace her and know that I'll never let her go. Never, ever let her go. Our souls are locked in a true love, and nothing can ever part us again. Nothing.

Belle felt the Beast's paw go limp against her tear-streaked face. His eyes rolled back, and with a final exhalation he was gone from this world.

She let out a sob for her departed friend. He was a good person, despite his appearance, despite how they had met. If only he'd had a little more time, he would have made friends, would have enjoyed life. He probably could have found a girl who would love him. Belle would have introduced him to everyone so they could have seen what a kind, amiable soul he really was. A splendid life had seemed to be ahead for the Beast — and now cut short, because of Gaston's unreasonable jealousy and obsession.

The Beast lay contorted on the wet marble balcony, the agony of his death still apparent in his tortured form. Belle tearfully arranged his pain-rent figure, placing his massive paws across his chest and straightening him out, into a peaceful posture of repose. She preferred not to leave him out in the rain, but she would have to call for help to haul him indoors. To her surprise, when she turned towards the castle, she saw several of the servants were waiting in the doorway. They witnessed the whole scene.

"He's… he's gone," she said to them, tearfully.

Under its protective bell jar, the last petal fell from the rose. The blossom was as dead as the master.

Lumiere, Mrs. Potts and Cogsworth hung their heads sadly. Their dreams of being returned to human form were gone like dust in the wind. They had never told Belle what was at stake for them; they hadn't even allowed her to know they were all under a curse, out of fear it might seem that they only wanted to use her to end their plight. That dream of theirs, that they could ever be free, was dashed. The pain of the realization was as bad as the pain of losing their master, whom they had looked after since he was a little boy.

"At least," said Mrs. Potts, wretchedly, "he learned to love, and to have compassion."

Belle wiped another tear from her face. "He died because he let Gaston live… because he let him go…" with a sob she realized, "…because he let me go."

"It was a merciful act. A good act," said Cogsworth, shaking his head. "Heaven will reward him for it."

The mourners grasped whatever solace they could from the thought that the Beast was in heaven now, experiencing peace and contentment forever after, knowing some sort of happiness which mortals could never fully imagine.

"Do you want me to help to bury him?" asked Belle, lost for what else she could do to comfort the servants who had always been so kind to her. It seemed like the least she could offer.

"We'll think about it later," said Cogsworth, a despondent note to his tone. "Perhaps after the rain has stopped."

"Come inside, dear," said Mrs. Potts, wearily. "We don't want you catching your own death in the rain. I'll make you a nice cup of tea."

The melancholy trio of masterless servants hopped and shambled into the West Wing. Belle followed them inside, still crying at the loss of her best friend — a friend whose deep, romantic love for her she had suspected, but never dared to dwell upon.

As the group vanished into the darkness of the West Wing, they failed to observe that the corpse of the Beast had transmuted into a fragrant pile of rose petals, shimmering in the cold, ongoing raindrops.

A great gust of wind roared, and sent the crimson petals scattering into oblivion.

END.

[Author's Note: My 2021 Beauty and the Beast fanfic jag has been all about examining my fan theories and questions about this film and its characters. This bit of Rod-Serling-depressing-speculation has been one of my many theories about the film — that Beast really died and that Belle never did love him, that everything in the "happy ending" was just his experience of a heavenly bliss. Ah, let us mourn for the murdered childhood!]