Yay! I've updated! Again, I am sooooo sorry for the delay but it couldn't be helped. I have had deadlines to meet and stuff to frantically finish so my dissertation and essays have taken the place of more pleasurable activities. But, that shouldn't be a problem anymore cos its all done and dusted now so I can devote more time to my story! Woohoo! Anyway,I hope you all like this chapter and that it whets your appetites for whats to come. The next chapter will be action-packed so this is like the calm before the storm. Ow! My wrist hurts from typing so hard.

Disclaimer:- I fully acknowledge Disney as well as the people who produce Miss Marple and Murder She Wrote, and Olivier's Henry V for the free marketing plug they all get in this chapter. Hey, these people should be paying me!


Bella was running. That was all she knew. She was running through seemingly endless passageways and corridors, searching for something, but she did not know what. No matter how fast she ran she never seemed to get anywhere. The walls were lit with torches. Torch after torch lit her way through the blackness, but in truth, there was no way because Bella didn't know where or what she was running to. She sensed her destination was important, she sensed it was a matter of urgency, and she kept on running.

Bella woke up. For one exquisitely happy moment, she thought she was still in her armchair in front of the fire waiting for her father to come home. However, once her eyes adjusted, she came face to face with the stark reality of where she was. The bed she was lying on was covered in blankets and quilts that were far too soft. The long flowing curtains by the window were far too elegant and luxurious, and the pillow, now slightly damp, was far too frilly and fussy. This room made her room back home seem like a hovel, and she hated it.

Bella swung her legs round and climbed off of the ed. The murky indigo colour around her told her that it was getting dark outside. She wondered just how long she had been sleeping, and then walked to the window and looked at the view. The sun had just finished setting, a fact she immediately resented as she hated missing the beauty of sunsets, and the moon was yet to appear. It was that strange transitional period between day and night, unsettling and uncertain. Bella peered into the ducky gloom, trying to figure out where exactly she was n the world, but all she could see was the forest; the trees indistinguishable from one another and melted into one big clump of darkest green.

Since the world outside the window gave her little comfort, she turned her back on it and walked towards the door, just catching a glimpse of herself in the mirror as she went past it. She looked a mess. Her hair stuck out at all angles, her clothes were rumpled and her eyes were dull and lifeless. Caring even less than she usually did, Bella shrugged and turned to find a piece of paper had been shoved under her door during her slumber. She picked it up, her tired eyes flashing as she read each word.

I have now unlocked your door. You are welcome in my house from now on, but please note that the attic is strictly out of bounds. Every other room is open to you so please explore should you feel the need. You must be hungry after your long rest. The kitchen is down the stairs and to the left.

As if in afterthought, an extra line had been added at the bottom:

I hope you slept ok.

Bella crumpled the piece of paper and threw it over her shoulder.

"Idiot!" she said under her breath, and stopped herself. Why was she whispering? He couldn't hear he? She found herself nervously giggling again at her overactive imagination. "Of course he couldn't!"

Nonetheless, she checked all around her before opening the door.

The corridor outside was now devoid of sunlight and so infinitely more sinister. She shivered and walked hastily down the stairs and to the left, as her captor had directed. After all, she hadn't eaten since yesterday lunchtime and now her stomach was gurgling and rumbling beneath her crossed arms and jumper.

As she opened the door to the kitchen, she was surprised to find it relatively clean and tidy, and at least three times the size of he kitchen at home. Cupboard took up most of the wall space with a large walk-in fridge at one end, and an impressive stove took up nearly a whole wall on its own.

"Too showy!" thought Bella, as she walked further into the room. She was relieved to find a kettle and a microwave on one of the surfaces. Right now, all she wanted was a cup of something hot and a plate of something edible.

After a lot of rummaging, boiling, cutting and spreading, Bella sat down at the table with a cup of steaming tea, some chocolate biscuits and a cheese sandwich. As she slurped and nibbled, she found herself wondering more and more about the strange man who was trying to keep her.

The cupboard and fridge had been well-stocked, albeit with mostly convenience foods. Where did he get it all from? Somehow she couldn't imagine him wandering round a supermarket. And both the kitchen and her bedroom had been cleaned recently, unlike the hallway. Was he really as alone as he seemed, or did he just have nothing better to do than get food for people who would never eat it and clean for people who would never tut at the dust on a sideboard? People that once would have filled a house of this size but were now obviously long gone. The mystery of it all was strangely alluring as if she was in some yet-to-be-written detective novel. She half-expected to see Miss Marple or Jessica Fletcher peering through doorways and traipsing through the corridors searching for clues to a murder that was yet to take place.

Bella shuddered and inwardly scolded herself. How was she supposed to approach the situation rationally when all she could think of were scary movies and whodunits?

The sweetness of the biscuits and warmth of the tea were starting to make her feel a bit better. Food usually had a soothing effect on her. She was surprised she wasn't grossly overweight by now. The cheese in her sandwich was her favourite; mature cheddar, and on malted bread. If it wasn't for the suffocating emptiness around her, she could almost imagine she was in her own kitchen. She closed her eyes and did just that while she finished her meal. Thank goodness for simple pleasures!

Althought belle was tempted to just leave her dirty dishes out, the natural clean freak in her found her washing up at the industrial-sized sink shortly afterwards. She had already decided exactly where she was going next. The attic. The mystery and curiosity was far too great for her to ignore and defying his orders pleased Bella greatly. Who was he to tell her what she could and couldn't do anyway? What was he hiding ip there that he didn't want her to see? The bodies of his previous guests whispered something at the back of her head. She mentally told it to shut up.

She found the attic easily enough. There was only one flight of stairs that ked to the third floor and once she had climbed those, checking all around her first of course, there was only a short corridor with a heavy-looking doer at the end between her and the mysterious attic room. As she walked down the corridor, she became aware of several paintings on either side. They seemed to depict lots of generations of the same family. The portraits all seemed fairly old though so gave her no clue to the true identity of the house's current resident. Before she knew it, she was r5ight up in front of the doors which seemed even larger now. She out her ear against the door but no sound came from within. Her eyes noticed a study looking keyhole and her heart sank. They were bound to be locked. No harm in trying though. Unbelievably, there was no resistance to her intrusion at all. The door handle turned and the doors opened. Only the squeaking hinges gave away any sign of protest, but Bella was satisfied that they weren't loud enough to give her away and so, with one last glance behind her, she quietly slipped into the room.

The first thing she noticed was that the object of her thoughts was nowhere to be seen. She found herself breathing a sigh of relief when she realised that he was not waiting behind the door ready to jump out at her. Nervously, she quickly scanned the room for signs of life but there was none. She was surprised to feel the tiniest twinge of disappointment. Has she wanted to get caught? Se felt like a child at Christmas, sneaking downstairs on the stroke of midnight to see Santa Claus, but finding only a tree and a few presents.

Bella sniggered at her minds comparison. Well, eh did have a beard but she doubted whether red was his colour. Curse her mind for wandering at the most inappropriate moments! She had work to do.

The attic room was deceptively small, and every inch was crammed with possessions. The room was lit by a single bulb swinging to and fro in an unfelt breeze. She could see a large desk covered with papers and drawing implements of all shapes and sizes in one corner and in another corner was a bed, perfectly made and tidy. It looked odd amongst all the rest of the chaos in the room. There was a small window and Bella rushed towards it desperate to see what she could from the other side of the house. She wasn't disappointed. From this window, she could only see a small part of forest and then there was her town! Her home! She could see the main street and little houses and shops dotted either side of the road. The lamps were just coming on and people were starting to leave, probably to get home where a nice dinner would be waiting for them.

Bella sighed in longing, and reluctantly moved towards the desk. Piles and piles of drawings took up most of the space and were framed with pencils, chalk, pens and pastels. The first picture she picked up was a landscape. Crudely drawn with coloured chalk, yet magnificent in its simplistic splendour. And such detail! She could even see a little bird singing on a tree branch and every leaf surrounding it. The sky was a blend of every single blue she could think of; azures and sapphires were woven with navies and indigos, and the effect was so real she expected the clouds to slowly puff across the horizon. Not wanting to take her eyes off of it, but being beaten by her desire to see more, she placed it down on the desk and looked at the next picture. This one was more fantastical. It was of a medieval joust. Two knights faced each other from opposite ends of the paper, lances drawn and horses in mid-gallop. She could almost hear the roar of the crowd and the chink of the knights' armour bursting out of the brightly-coloured image. It reminded her a little of a film adaptation of Henry V that her father had insisted they rent. That too was brightly coloured and full of life and pageantry and had featured Laurence Olivier. She imagined him as one of the knights; maybe the one that in the drawing that looked more likely to win. The determination behind his visor was just a little stronger than the others. She smiled and picked up the next picture, and almost dropped it again. A gasp tried to escape from the back of her throat but it stuck halfway up, and Bella had to swallow it.

It was her! The likeness was uncanny. Her own face stared up at her from the paper. It was both eerie and mesmerising. It was a simple pencil drawing and picked out her eyes and her mouth in minute detail. Her hair was slightly wavy as it often was because of Bella's refusal to spend hours in front of the mirror straightening it every morning, and her bottom lip seemed to quiver ever so slightly. But the feature that struck Bella most was the gentle strokes that had formed the tears at the corner of her eyes. They were hardly noticeable yet stood out as if the artist had deliberately drawn them that way. Bella didn't know whether to laugh or cry. Was this how she appeared to others? Constantly on the verge of weeping? When had he drawn this? There was a date etched into the corner of the paper and she struggled to read it as the figures seemed to swim in front of her eyes; 4th February 2005. That was yesterday's date, a good twenty-four hours at least before he had met her……….

Unseen eyes seemed to crawl up the nape of Bella's neck. She whimpered and threw the picture back on the desk. She didn't like the ideas her mind was presenting to her. She suddenly decided she didn't want to explore anymore, she didn't want to stay in the place for a moment longer, and she turned to run out of the door. Alas, her plans were thwarted as her over-anxious eyes saw something tucked she hadn't noticed on one side of the door. It was a small table. Nothing odd about that you might think, but it was what was on the table that had caused all other thoughts to flee from Bella's mind. A single red rose sat in a clear vase on one side of the table and right in the centre there was a photo frame. Bella felt herself drawn towards the printm and she felt her hand pick up the simple black plastic frame so she could see into it.

The picture was of three people; a family. It had been taken in front of a fireplace and was strangely reminiscent of old-fashioned Victorian style photography although the picture was in colour and obviously far later in date. Yet the father figure stood tall and straight; the mother figure sat in a chair beside him, her arms folded gently in her lap. Both were expressionless. They wore the sort of half-grimace that occurs in photographs when the subjects don't particularly want their photo taken. Her father had many like that that had been taken for newspapers. Uncomfortable posing. However, the boy in the photograph was different. He looked about 8 or 9 years old and had a huge grin plastered on his face almost stretching from ear to ear. It looked so odd next to the straight-faced parents. However the boy's eyes were also in direct contrast to his smile. They had no sparkle, no trace of the joy that should have accompanied such a beaming grin. He was then also posing; but in a way that tried to hide what his parents seemed so keen to show. This simple yet alarmingly complex photo had more of an effect on belle than the drawings had; she could not bring herself to put it down and stop staring at the boys tragic eyes. She was so lost in the picture that she had not noticed that she was no longer alone in the room.

Indeed, she probably would have stood there most of the evening if a cough behind her hadn't made her heart take a defiant and sudden leap into her throat. She whipped around with a sharp intake of breath and in doing so felt her grip loosen on the pecious object in her hand. There was silence as the picture seemed to fall in slow-motion. Two sets of eyes watched it spiral down, down, down to the hard wooden floorboards, and two sets of ears caught the sharp sound as it hit the floor; the thud of the frame breaking, the tinkle as the glass shattered everywhere.


Hugs and love for all my reviewers. You're all fantastic, I couldn't ask for better encouragement :)

TrudiRose-Thanks once again for your detailed and helpful review. What I'm writing is how my brain is interpreting the story so seeing as I feed it with loads of movie and horror gunk, its no surpirse there are elements of that coming out in the story. I'm glad I'm getting the realism right. It's actually quite difficult to do without detracting from the magical qualities of the story, cos I am trying to retain some of those elements. The Beast is gonna be probably quite a complicated character cos he has two personalities that both want equal control over his thoughts and action (Literal schizophrenia if you like, but he's not schizophrenic. Well, he's not really intended to be. Think like the Phantom of the Opera and you're kind of there...sorry I'm waffling! Why don't we get instructions? Thats just mean!

LumBabsFan-No worries! I mean I'm not exactly the most punctual person on here. You are forgiven(as long as you forgive my lack of updating)Glad you're enjoying the story so far :) And, yeah, it would be difficult for me not to mention Gerard Butler as the man is gorgeous! Always good to find someone else whos a fan, makes me seem less deluded!

Bellamegs- Please don't damn me:) It's scary! I couldn't help myself with the Alice In Wonderland thing. I can see me trying to squeeze in quite a few little references like that. Yes, the beast is odd, but thats part of his appeal. There's a good reason why I'm not referring to him by name yet. Don't worry his name will appear soon when I reckon the time is right. I know me referring to him as a beast is slightly annoying but he is kind of a beast, well, he is at the moment anyway. If it gets too distracting then I might go back at a later date and change how I refer to him, but at the moment you only have to put up with it for a tiny bit longer. I've got a name all ready for him, its waiting in the wings ready for its cue!

Rosakara and Hana- :) I'm glad you're still enjoying it, hope it stays that way!