A/N - no i still don't own DP or Beauty and the Beast

Two

A gentle snow had begun to fall only moments after Jeremy left the house of his brother, and had intensified over the past couple of hours he had been traveling. It surprised him greatly, as earlier on that day it had been beautiful and sunny. But he knew that the weather in this region tended to be wildly unpredictable.

He leant back in his carriage, closing his eyes. It was nice to see his daughter again. He missed her greatly during his long absences. And she did, as he had said, remind him so much of her mother, only with that inexplicable black hair, and the violet eyes that ran in the earlier generations of his family.

He missed his wife terribly. During the three years after she had passed on, he had begun to rely on drink, gambling, gaming, fighting, to keep him going. Even his young daughter had not been quite enough to ease his pain. He had begun to push her away.

But soon all his money was gone. His house was taken, and he and young Samantha were out on the streets. Hard weeks followed, and he had done the only thing he could for his daughter.

He had sent her to his brother.

In the years that followed, he had managed to make money for himself, scraping it up wherever he could. He still tended to gamble it away from time to time, an old habit that, as they say, was dying hard.

But it was going to change. He could feel it. Many of his friends had told him about the jobs to be had further north. Once he had made enough money to support them, he could go back to….

Suddenly the carriage rocked, then screeched hard to a halt. Jeremy was thrown forward forcefully and painfully into the front wall. He sat up, rubbing his forehead.

"What on Earth…?"

He opened the door of the carriage and hopped out. He walked round to the front and stood stock still, staring at the empty seat where his driver should have been. The horses were going wild, bucking and shrieking.

"D-David?" He stuttered fearfully. He looked around him desperately.

Suddenly something dropped onto his shoulder. He yelped and jerked himself away, stumbling forwards. He looked back in horror at the black form that floated just above the ground where he had been.

The creature was like a shadow, misty and translucent. It had the form of an enormous wolf, standing at almost eight feet. Its snarling lips were curled up to reveal razor sharp black teeth. Its glinting black eyes studied him.

The sky above had grown dark, and the snow began to fall more heavily than before.

The horrible animal suddenly howled. The howl sounded empty and it echoed unnaturally. Then the wolf was running at him. He screamed and turned, sprinting as fast as he could go in the opposite direction. His jellied legs suddenly gave beneath him, and he fell to the ground.

He turned onto his back just in time for him to watch the enormous beast leap towards him, its snarling even more feral than before.

"Where do you think you're going?"

She was suddenly jerked back when something latched onto the hood of her cape and pulled her further from her destination – the door. She spilled onto the ground in a puddle of fabric and limbs.

She hurriedly stood up and turned to face her uncle, whose face was thunderous.

"My father – he's in trouble! I have to go help him." She turned once more for the door, but this time he grabbed her neck. Fear twisted in her stomach as she had the familiar feeling of having hands wrapped around her throat. Her own hands automatically went up to grab his wrists. She desperately tried to pry him off of her.

"Please," she choked. "Please let me go help him!"

He stared into her eyes, his own already bloodshot, a wine bottle in his right hand, his left still crushing her neck. A sadistic smile twisted his lips.

Suddenly a burst of resolve spread through her and she dropped her hands. She reached down and grabbed the bottle swinging, almost forgotten, from his fingers. She wrapped her fist around its neck and swung it upwards with as much force as she could muster.

The glass crashed against the side of his head. He yelled in pain and dropped her. She tumbled to the floor, but righted herself immediately, backing away from him, dropping the cracked bottle neck on the ground. She backed away, amazed at her bravado. Her hand reached for the door handle, pushing it down and swinging open the portal.

The storm outside had intensified greatly, the blizzard of snow inhibiting her vision greatly. Her foot had risen and was just about to step outside when something from behind her made her halt.

"Stop! Come here." His voice was venomous, but she did not turn.

"Not this time," she whispered, more to herself than to him, but he heard her anyway over the noise of the storm and screamed his fury as the door slammed behind her.

She ran to the stables, pulling her thick hood around her face to protect her from the raging winds and snow. She quickly threw a saddle onto the chestnut in the first stall, then swung onto his back and turned him out into the storm at a full gallop, crashing through the gate and taking off at full tilt towards Amity Mountain.

The beast landed a mere foot from his body, and he began to scoot back away from it across the forest floor, his heart thumping against his ribs wildly. His eyes were wide, his pupils fully dilated, unable to tear his gaze from the horrible monster advancing on him.

Suddenly the animal stopped, and Jeremy seized his chance. He scrambled to his feet, turning round, and ran in the opposite direction. He could hear the animal leaping after him, snarling and howling.

Tears of fright were gathering in his eyes, but he was focusing too hard on pumping his arms to wipe them away. His vision blurred, and he thought he saw a dark shadow before him.

Suddenly his head smacked against something with a metallic clang, and he was tossed backwards a few feet. He raised himself, groaning in pain, and saw the great black gates looming before him. They barely registered in his mind as one word came to the fore.

Sanctuary!

He jumped up and heaved open one gate, painfully aware of the shadow creature closing in on him. He slipped through the tiny opening he had created in the heavy gate, and pushed it shut behind him. He had just slammed the bolt back into place when the animal arrived and started snapping through the bars at him. Its teeth fastened around his cloak and he ripped it off in alarm, letting it fall to the floor before the snarling beast.

He backed away from the gates in terror, but a pleasant feeling of security suddenly overcame him, his galloping heart just beginning to slow. He kept walking back until his suddenly fell over as the ground began an incline. He rose to his feet and turned around, his mouth dropping open.

Before him rose an enormous castle. The stone it was made out of was black, pitch black. Ivy and creepers snaked up the walls, smashing through some of the higher windows, wrapping around the looming turrets and towers. The front double doors were a dark wood, almost fifteen feet tall. Stained glass inhabited the windows, though it was made up of dull grays, blacks and whites instead of colors. High up, in the shortest tower, there was a massive chunk of the wall missing, and it had tumbled to the ground beside him amongst a shattering of bricks and mortar. Once-grand balconies reached out over the courtyard below, half of one mostly detached and hanging precariously off the wall, anchored only by the slope of the wall below it.

The building radiated a gothic, frightening glory, and it struck fear into him even as his old heart began to slow from the chase moments before. His head was thumping from his unpleasant encounter with the gate, and he began to weigh up the wisdom of entering this foreboding edifice against turning around and walking back to where the horses were and riding back to Amity Park in the storm.

A suddenly rattling snagged his attention and his head snapped to the gates. The animal was still there, snarling and pawing angrily at the black portcullis.

"Creepy castle it is then," he mumbled to himself, tearing open the grand door as fast as he could and creeping inside.

The door slammed shut far too loudly, and his stomach twisted as the booming noise echoed through the cavernous castle. He turned, his back against the door, and gazed in awe at the magnificent interior.

A grand staircase curled away from him in two different directions, the gold and mahogany banister having long lost its sheen, though the quality of the carving and shaping was evident. The steps were black marble, though, like the banister, they were dull and their gloss was gone. Elegant tapestries hung from the walls, though they were strangely black, as though they had been singed in a flash fire. One huge balcony encircled the room on the third floor, two stories up from him. What looked like a huge, overturned table lay opposite him on it, surrounded by scattered chairs.

He stepped forwards, moving cautiously through the castle.

"Hello?" he called, trepidation lacing his voice. He turned sideways and opened a door on his right, stepping into the beautiful room with awe. It, like the grand entrance hall, exuded beauty and wealth, but either misuse or disuse had taken its toll. He noticed that there were many darker patches on the walls, where paintings would have once hung, but they had been removed. A huge, towering chair sat in the middle of the room, before the hearth.

But what shocked him most about the room was the blazing fire alight in the fireplace.

He moved closer to it, the heat seeping through him wonderfully, drawing him still closer. He was soaking wet from the melted snow, and he wiped some of the water from his cheek. When his hand came away he was startled to find blood on his fingers. He touched his hand to where he smacked his head against the gate outside and winced as his fingers met the bleeding wound.

Suddenly he felt something brush his shoulder. He wheeled round to look into the pale blue eyes of a young girl, floating beside him.

He yelped in fear and backed away, falling into the great chair opposite the hearth.

"No, don't be afraid, I won't hurt you." The girl spoke softly, her voice tinged with concern. "You're hurt."

She reached a hand, in which she clutched a wet piece of cloth, to his forehead, but he drew back, fear making him tremble.

"Wh-what are you?" he asked, his voice shaking. His eyes traveled up and down her. She was pretty, with reddish blond hair and blue eye, wearing a simple blue gown with a sweetheart neckline. But she was floating, and she was translucent – or perhaps it was a trick of the light. Or maybe he had hit his head harder than he thought he had.

She shook her head gently, ignoring his question. "My name is Jasmine – Jazz. Please let me help you."

She reached forwards once more, and this time he managed not to pull back as she gently passed the cloth over his forehead and face, mopping away the blood. It took her a few minutes to gently bandage the wound, and in that time a small ottoman was pushed under his feet, and someone – or something, he corrected, looking at his young hostess – brought in a tray of tea and biscuits.

The 'girl' called Jazz eventually moved over to the fire, prodding a piece of wood with a poker, fanning the flames higher. Jeremy set down his tea.

"Alright, so what's going on here? Why are you here, and why are you see-through?"

She turned back to him almost guiltily. "I live here, and–"

She was suddenly cut off by a huge gust of wind that swept into the room and blew out the fire in one swoop. She gasped and ran to him, standing beside him almost protectively.

Jeremy cowered down in the enormous chair, sweat beading on his forehead, his breathing and heart rate rising as he sensed instinctively danger coming for him.

Behind him a shadow swept into the room and approached the chair.

Jazz stepped towards him. "Please, he was hurt and outside it is – he will die!" There was a small silence before she spoke again. "No! Please – no!"

Suddenly a shape materialized before him. It was shaky and shadowy and hard to make out clearly, though it looked humanoid, it was translucent, like Jazz. It reached for him and grabbed his shoulders, yanking him up so his face was only inches from its own.

Two burning green eyes became visible, boring into his own blue ones. Jeremy's whole body was shaking violently with fear. He could vaguely hear Jazz shouting in the background.

"Why are you here?" the insubstantial creature growled, its voice low and menacing. It was creepy, hearing the sound coming from no mouth.

Jeremy stuttered, the creature's grip tightening on his lapels. "I, I was being chased, and I hit my head, and it's a blizzard outside, so I just thought–"

"You just thought you'd intrude upon my home," the shadow finished in a snarl.

Jeremy's eyes widened. "N-no! Please! I, please!"

"Is that all you people do? Plead? Plead for mercy from the horrible Phantom?" His voice was dripping sarcasm and menace.

Jeremy was not sure which answer would give him more trouble, so he kept his terrified silence, his hands shaking uncontrollably.

"You're afraid," the Phantom whispered dangerously. "Why?"

Jeremy's lip quivered, but he could not answer. The Phantom snarled and threw him back against the wall. He crashed to the ground and lay there, in agony.

"Why?!" his voice was loud enough to shake the chandelier above them. He stood over the quivering figure, who had drawn himself into a sitting position, his knees clutched against his chest. He pulled him up by the front of his shirt. Then he turned and stalked out of the door, dragging the limp man behind him. He pulled him along corridors, up staircases, and through doorways, ignoring his whimpers and yelps of pain. Eventually he tossed him against a wall and slammed the door behind him. Jeremy heard the sound of a key being turned in a lock and saw the bars on the door.

"Please," he whimpered to the retreating Phantom. The shadow whirled around, the green eyes appearing once more, swirling with anger.

"More pleading?" The silence was worse than his echoing voice. "You were not welcome here. You are now my prisoner." He was silent for a long moment before exiting the room through the closed door, leaving the old man whimpering quietly in his cell.

The snow was lashing fiercely at her face, blinding and hurting her. Her hood was drawn as far around her as it could be. Her hands were numb with cold, and were red and aching. She could tell the brown horse was tiring, and so was she. They had been riding hard for hours, but she would not allow the horse to stop or even slow. Each beat of her heart thumped her worry for her father against her chest.

Lightning suddenly struck behind them, and her head whipped up at the crumpled form it illuminated in front of her.

"Father?" she cried, spurring the horse on further. As she neared the form though, she realized that it was just a carriage. Her father's carriage. The horses were gone, their moorings and reins broken. It looked as though they had snapped through them. What could have possibly scared them so much?

She leapt off the horse's back, leaving him panting there in the blizzard, flinging open the carriage door and looking inside. Her father was not there, and worry set further into her stomach.

Suddenly she heard a vicious snarl from behind her. She whipped around and her heart skipped a beat. A huge, shadowy wolf towered far above her, saliva dripping from its bared teeth. She quickly darted beneath it, ignoring her terror, and swung herself onto her horse's back.

She slapped his rump, delving her heels into his sides, and he careened up the mountain, his energy fueled by both his fear and her urgency. The beast behind them gave chase, and Samantha urged the horse to go faster, leaning right down against his neck.

They suddenly approached two gates that she had not been able to see before through the swirling snows. She could barely see five feet in front of her. She ripped one of the gates open from the chestnut's back and they cantered through. She jumped off the horse's back and ran to bolt the gate before the creature reached it. She turned and walked back, shaking with fear and adrenaline, to her horse, but trod on something on her way. She looked down and her heart caught in her throat.

She picked up her father's cloak in pain and looked at it, assuring herself that it was indeed her father's. She walked forwards, suddenly noticing a castle looming before her. She barely registered its horrific appearance as her need to find her father intensified and spurred her on.

She eased open one of the heavy doors, forgetting her horse completely, shutting it behind her and stepping forwards.

"Father?" she called. Her voice echoed through the castle, but that was all she heard. "Father!"

She walked forwards, trepidation growing in her step as she began to take in her domineering surroundings. The house had a gothic, wonderful beauty, and her inner soul was drawn to it somehow.

She suddenly heard a snarl behind her and she whipped around. Nothing was there. Fear crept into her, but she suppressed it and moved forward, turning left and walking down the corridor.

"Father?" She climbed a staircase and turned the corner. She could have sworn she heard something whisper something, and she followed the noise.

"This way…" the voice said quietly once more, and she followed the voice down several more corridors and up two more staircases. She pushed open a large oak door and looked around. It seemed to be some sort of prison.

"Samantha?"

She wheeled round at her father's voice, and suddenly saw a pale hand poking out from two iron bars.

"Father!" she sighed with relief and ran forwards to clasp his hand. She noticed a huge, gaping wound on his forehead, still pitifully releasing blood down his face. "Father, are you alright? What are you doing here? Why are you locked up? Oh, never mind – I have to get you out of here!"

"No, Samantha, listen to me, you have to get out of here, before–"

Suddenly she heard the snarl from the hall once more and was thrown forwards into the wall, a green light flashing behind her.

The black shape drifted upwards, through one of the higher windows, coming to a stop on the floor inside and dipping its shapeless head in respect to the dark figure in the chair, his back to the visitor.

"Did you succeed?" The figure in the chair asked, not turning around.

"Yes, master. She is inside."

"How did you manage it?"

"Scared her." Amusement tinged the creature's voice as it once more assumed the form of an enormous wolf. It reverted back to its shadowy true form and its master's face matched its own smiling demeanor.

"Good. Well done."

"Now what?"

"Now? Now we wait."

The man in the chair suddenly stood and walked to the fireplace, hardly noticing its raw heat as he looked at the painting hanging above it. He ignored the other three figures and directed his tender speech to the woman standing with her hand on a young black-haired boy's shoulder, her own shoulder occupied by the hand of the towering man behind her.

"Soon, my love. Soon."

whew, long chapter...bit of a cliffie...review for next chapter to come faster!

FunkyFish1991 xXx