CHAPTER 2
In the West Wing, the Beast gazed sadly at the enchanted rose. Only a few petals remained. It wouldn't be long now, he thought. Soon his curse would be permanent, and he would remain a beast forever, without hope of redemption.
And yet, somehow he couldn't bring himself to care. His curse was meaningless, compared to the aching void that was Belle's absence. The knowledge that he would never see her again crushed him. He felt as though a hole had been ripped in his soul, and nothing could ever fill it.
For 10 years he had been locked in his dark, lonely prison. And then, so unexpectedly, she had come - a bright, shining presence to light up the gloom. She had brought him out of himself, made him forget his wretched state for hours at a time.
Even when she angered him, he admired her: the way she stood her ground, defiance blazing in her eyes, her tiny frame unwavering before his massive ferocity. He could have easily snapped her like a twig, yet she did not fear him, unlike his servants who trembled whenever he raised his voice. Her courage awed him.
And when she wasn't angry...Her warm smile was like the sun. It lit up the room. More and more, he had wanted to see that smile, to do things that would please her. He remembered her delight when he had shown her the library. Her infectious enthusiasm as she shared with him her favorite stories. Her gentle patience as she taught him. And her irreverent sense of humor. She had made him laugh for the first time in 10 years. He remembered that winter day when he had been startled by a snowball whizzing toward him, and turned to see Belle giggling like a child. Throwing a snowball - at the Beast! Who else would have dared? She treated him like a friend, not a monster. And when he was with her, he, too, could forget what he was.
His months with her had been the happiest of his life. Not just the happiest since the curse began - that was obvious - but the happiest, period. He had never really been happy, he realized. His parents had died when he was a child. He had been raised by servants eager to grant his every whim. But he had always been restless, dissatisfied. He had never known peace and contentment until the quiet moments by the fire with Belle.
But now, it was all over.
He did not regret his decision. He loved her, it was as simple as that. He could not bear to cause her pain. But pain was what he had seen in her eyes as she saw her dying father in the magic mirror, knowing she couldn't be at his side. There was no choice. He had to let her go.
But now he had to return to his prison of loneliness and isolation, and dwell there forever, without hope. He didn't know how he could bear it.
Mrs. Potts' frantic voice interrupted his reverie. "Master, the castle is under attack! What shall we do, master?"
The Beast turned away. "It doesn't matter anymore. Just let them come."
He heard noise downstairs - thumps, shouts, breaking glass. None of it mattered.
After a while, the noise faded away. Then the Beast heard the door open. He lifted his head to see a young man pointing a bow and arrow at him.
The knight in shining armor, come to slay the dragon, thought the Beast. Well, here I am. Go ahead. He turned away.
Despite his apathy, the Beast couldn't suppress a roar of pain when the sharp arrow pierced his side. The young man grinned triumphantly and leaped toward him. He gave the Beast a vicious kick that sent him crashing through the window onto a section of roof outside.
Rain was pouring down as Gaston kicked the Beast again, pushing him closer to the edge. The Beast did not resist. He lay quietly, waiting for the end.
"What's the matter, Beast?" taunted Gaston. "Too 'kind and gentle' to fight back?" He laughed.
The Beast didn't know what the young man meant by that. He said "kind and gentle" with a certain emphasis, as though quoting.
But it didn't matter. The young man had a club in his hands now. He raised it for a killing blow. The Beast closed his eyes. Now death would come, but the thought held no terror for him. Death meant peace - no more sorrow, no more pain. Just...oblivion. He welcomed it.
An explosion burst in his head. Then there was nothing.