A brown horse trotted down the road, making a steady, almost musical rhythm in the dust. A young woman in a dark blue cloak was riding the horse, watching the first orange leaves of October fall to the ground. A slight breeze was blowing in the air, almost as if it was gently guiding the woman on her journey.

Night slowly spread across the sky as the day passed. The wind began to blow harder as the air grew chillier. The clip-clop of the horse's hooves began to echo.

Isabella had reached the crossroads, an ordinary path to the left, a lesser-used path to the right.

As a little girl, her mother would tell her that if she ever got lost, to follow her instincts, and to listen to her surroundings.

Well, her instinct told her that her father, being somewhat of a daredevil, would have taken the more adventurous route and headed right.

Tall columns of black sprouted from the ground, the ebony branches creating a canopy. Between the intertwined branches and the leaves still clinging to them, it was very difficult to see the moonlight, thus forcing Isabella to light the oil in her lantern.

The horse trotted onward, maneuvering through the thick vegetation and the still soggy trail. The trail grew more vague as the night wore on.

SNAP!

That single sound sent her horse into a panic. She lost her ability to control the horse as it raced aimlessly through the forest. Suddenly, it came to a river, and began to back away from the water. This gave Isabella a chance to regain control. When she had soothed the horse, she noticed by the light of her lantern an old wooden bridge. It looked sturdy enough, so she decided to use it.

She was lucky enough to find that it was indeed stable. She then continued onward. She didn't stop until she saw something that caught her eye…a hand-knit scarf. The scarf that SHE had knit!

"He was here!" she cried. "Something must have happened to him…" She halted her horse and got off. She examined the ground by the light of her lantern, looking for evidence as to what had happened. What she discovered was what appeared to be the hoof prints of a horse that had dug itself into the ground, as if it had jumped across the small river. She also saw the paw prints of wolves, scattered in various directions. What intrigued her the most were the human footprints she knew to be her father's. She took the horses' reign to guide it, and followed the footprints to a large iron gate.

"He must have entered it…he wouldn't have anywhere else to go," she said to herself. She decided to open the gate and walk to the large mahogany doors.

She looked up and saw the dark cloud formations around the topmost tower. This was it! The castle she had seen every night since she was a child! She had no idea that it was this close!

She yanked with all the strength her small body could muster on the doors, and tied the horses' reign to stone statue of a gargoyle nearby. She then entered the castle, and had no idea what she was about to get herself into.

She found herself in a large gallery, with an enormous, yet dusty crystal chandelier hanging over her head. Portraits of long-dead nobility and elaborate tapestries adorned the walls. A dusty crimson carpet adorned a large case of marble stairs.

"Papa?...Hello?...Is anyone there?" she called, only to hear her voice echoing.

"Greetings, fair maiden…" a voice called.

"Who is that? Who are you?" she asked.

"Which "you" are you referring to, mademoiselle?" asked another voice.

"Anyone! What's going on here? Where is my father?" she asked, desperation beginning to show in her voice.

A third voice whispered, "There are many of us mistress…as for your father, I'm afraid all is not well…"

"What? Whoever you are, show yourself now! I want to be taken to my father!"

"I'm afraid we can't show ourselves…and I'm not sure you would be pleased with the state your father is in, dear maiden…"

"Take me to him this instant!" she demanded, with an assertiveness that surprised even her.

"As you wish…follow our voices, mademoiselle…"

She followed the direction the voices guided her in. "I must be going crazy!" she thought to herself. "First I end up in an abandoned castle, and now I'm hearing voices! What's next?"

The voices led her to a cold, damp dungeon, where only the echoes of water dripping and a hacking cough could be heard…a cough Isabella recognized…

"Papa!" she called as she ran into the direction she heard the cough coming from. The sight before her frightened her.

Her father was weak. He appeared to have been underfed and was showing signs of illness. When she gripped his hands through the cell bars, his touch felt like ice.

"Who's done this to you?" she asked as she embraced him through the prison bars.

"Our master, mademoiselle…" answered a voice.

"Who is this master?" she called out, feeling rather silly that she was shouting at thin air in front of her father.

"You hear them too then?" asked her father, receiving a nod. "So I'm not going mad…"

"Our master would not be pleased if we revealed his identity" called another voice.

"I demand that my father be released immediately! Can't you see he's sick?" she pleaded.

"If we could release him, we would. We are sincerely regretful of his condition, but only the master can set him free."

"Can't you ask him?" she pleaded.

"I'm afraid that is not possible. The master does not take orders"

"ANOTHER INVADER!" a distant voice growled.

Isabella's body quivered slightly in fear. "Who's there? Who are you?" she asked.

"THE MASTER OF THIS CASTLE!" the voice shouted. Isabella quivered more as she heard the voice's owner moving closer.

"My father is ill…please…I beg of you…please release him." she pleaded, tears welling in her eyes.

"YOUR TEARS WILL GET YOU NOWHERE! HE HAS ENTERED MY HOME UNINVITED AND MUST SUFFER THE CONSEQUENCES!" He was very close now, for Isabella could feel hot breath creeping across her neck.

"Please…he could die…"

"THAT'S WHAT HE GETS FOR INVADING MY HOME!" he shouted, making her jump.

"Bella…darling…he is not to be trifled with…" Maurice said.

"Please…" she pleaded, but felt herself having the wind knocked out of her by something…hairy. She struggled to restore her composure and could not find the strength to return to her feet.

"Listen here…and listen good! I take orders from no one! He is my prisoner and nothing you say will change that! Do I make myself clear?" he hissed as he pinned her against the wall.

She pondered for a moment, when an idea struck her. "What if…I offered to take his place?" she said as she felt the "masters" grip being released.

This stopped him dead in his tracks. "What did you say?" he whispered, an edge of skepticism in his voice.

"I said I'd take his place." She answered.

"Bella, you don't know what you're doing!" her father pleaded.

"You would stay? You would really do that?"

"Yes."

"Very well." He said as he undid the lock on the cell door. Maurice immediately embraced his daughter. "Please, you don't know what you're getting into! I've lived a long life! Ple-AH!"

Bella began to sob as she saw her father being dragged away by the "master", only his shadow visible to her. The "master" pointed to the horse reigned to the gargoyle statue. "You see that horse down there? Take him and leave this place! If you show your sorry face in my domain again, don't expect to ever see the light of day!" with a final growl, he shoved the old man out, leaving a sobbing Isabella on the ground, watching helplessly as her father was shoved out of her life.

"You didn't let me say goodbye…" she whispered.

"WHAT?"

"You didn't let me say goodbye…I'll never see him again…"

He felt a slight twinge of an emotion he'd felt quite often when he was alone. Guilt. But something was different about this guilt. This guilt was not about his actions towards himself, it was about his actions towards another.

"I'll show you to your room…" he snarled.

"My room? But I-"

She felt herself being pinned again. "DO YOU WANT TO SIT HERE AND ROT? THAT'S PERFECTLY FINE WITH ME IF THAT'S YOUR CHOICE!"

Her body shook as she felt his hot breath on her face. "No…" she whispered timidly through her tears.

"THEN FOLLOW ME!" he said as he yanked her to her feet.

The "master" lit a torch, and for the first time she saw that the "master" was not a man at all…but a beast. She gasped in horror, her knees buckling beneath her. She felt as though she was about to faint. Right when she was about to collapse, a large, hairy hand jerked her back up and practically dragged her out of the dungeon, sending her stumbling behind him.

She was lead through a labyrinth of hallways, each decorated by various busts and paintings of long-dead royalty, cobwebs and dust covering every surface. Fear consumed her as she followed him, watching his lupine feet practically prowl across the dusty crimson carpet.

He then stopped at a large wooden door with an ornate gold knob. "You are free to go anywhere you like, except the west wing. If you fail to comply with this rule, you will be sent back down there, where you will never see the light of day again!" He hissed as he pushed open the door, shoving her in, and slamming it behind her.

She ran to the bed, lay down, and sobbed. Her life as she knew it was over.