DARK Beauty and the Beast AU

Dark and dreary, the Castle stood on the edge of the forest, cut off from the world without roads or pathways. Save for the trees, it was surrounded by wasteland, where the land had withered away, so tainted by the evil that radiated from the Castle that it was no longer able to bear life. Any humans who had made their living on the Castle's borders had long ago died or ran, leaving only the Castle's Master and those he had claimed as his.

The Master was said to be Evil incarnate, a demon in human form that made a sport of terrorizing and imprisoning any who dared pass through his lands. Even the aid of a sorcerer with the wisdom of a thousand years had failed to do more than bind him and his servants to the confines of his castle, and even that had come dearly.

It was to this castle that an unwitting traveler, half-blind and weak from thirst and fatigue, made his way, searching for a place to rest until he could make the journey home.

XX

It had been so many years since he had been bound, though it had not been too long since he had last been gifted with a child foolish enough to pass the gates and enter his domain. Such a unique little toy the last one had been – if more headstrong and feisty than he preferred – though that had made the game last all the longer. Still, the thought of a new toy sent anticipatory shivers down his spine.

Violet eyes stared down at the gate, drinking in the figure leaning heavily against the iron bars. Though injured and weak, the boy was in no way hard on the eyes. The perfect replacement for a toy that had been growing dull over the years. A child-like smile crossed pale lips, a contradiction to the sadistic anticipation that hovered beneath the surface.

"Open the gate." As the trembling servant paled and all but ran from the room, his smile grew. "Such a pretty little kitten. I hope it doesn't break too easily."

XX

The sun glinted brightly off of the metal frame of the wagon from its position high in the sky. Matthew had been ready to go since before dawn, but, being the overprotective older brother that he was, Alfred had refused to let him begin the long journey to the market until the he was absolutely certain the small wagon was sturdy, the horse was healthy, Maple's tack was in good condition. . . . When Alfred started triple-checking the wagon wheels for any sign of wear or disrepair, Matthew decided that enough was enough.

"Alfred, if I don't leave now, I'll never get get to the ford before sunset."

"But," Alfred gestured wildly around him. "The wagon. . . the horse. . . do you have enough food? What about-"

Matthew cut him off with a finger to his lips, "The wagon is perfect. Hero is well-fed and ready to leave. You packed me enough food to feed several armies. I'm only going to be gone for a few days, why are you so worried?"

"You've never gone to market without me. What if you get lost? What if you're attacked by bandits?" The blond's eyes grew wider and wider, as his imagination provided him with so many images of his precious little brother being ambushed, tortured, murdered and having his body chopped into hundreds of tiny pieces that would never be found! What was he thinking letting Mattie go off on his own? "I'm coming with you!"

"No." Matthew ignored his brother's quivering lips and wide eyes with the ease of long practice. "We talked about this already, Alfred. You need to stay here to take care of Arthur and the farm."

Arthur, the twins' older brother, usually stayed home and tended to the garden and the livestock while the two went to the market. This year, however, he had been badly injured less than a month before, his legs broken when he had fallen from the cottage roof. Luckily, the breaks weren't so bad they couldn't heal properly, but until they did, Arthur was on bed rest.

Alfred frowned at the reminder, "You're better at all that house-y stuff, so why am I the one staying home? Here, you can go take care of Arthur while I go to the market." He made to push Matthew toward the house.

Matthew ducked backwards out of reach, rolling his eyes. "Arthur doesn't trust you not to run the wagon off the road if you hear a twig snap or a wolf howl."

"But-" Alfred was about to defend his perfectly natural fear of ghosts, goblins, and other equally frightening creatures that lurked in the shadows, only to be interrupted.

"I'll be fine. I promise. And I'll be back before the full moon."

"That's. . . eight days?"

Matthew nodded.

"That's more than a few days, Mattie-" Alfred winced at the glare he received. "Fine. Fine, eight days, but if you're not back by then, I'm coming after you," he said with determination.

Matthew just smiled, "Love you too, Al."

The two brothers embraced, and Matthew climbed up into the wagon seat, clicked to Maple and was off. Alfred watched as the horse and wagon shrank into the distance, only looking away as they vanished from sight. Sighing, he brought his eyes to the clear, blue sky in a silent prayer for his brother's safety and quick return before returning to the house.

XX

Matthew clung to the reins with stiff, aching fingers, his breath coming in short gasps as the wagon jolted across the uneven ground, branches snatching at him through the darkness. The crashing thunder and brilliant streaks of lightning that lit up the darkness through the leaves overhead had sent poor Maple bolting in fright, and there was nothing he could do to stop her. It was all he could do to keep his seating as sheets of ice cold water poured down from the heavens, soaking him to the bone

He had left the market early, when all of the produce and the cute little carved toys Arthur made had sold out within the first two days. He hadn't expected to do so well and, after buying the supplies for the farm, Matthew decided not to stay any longer. There was no way he could have known the storm would set in. It had been sudden - one minute the sun had been glowing as it fell beneath the horizon, and the next it was dark, the sky enshrouded in ominous clouds as the rain came pelting down. Had Matthew been any further from the halfway point where he usually camped, he might have stopped and looked for shelter. Instead, he had chosen to keep going, knowing that it was only the ride of a few hours to get through the forest to the ford.

The wagon flew into the air, startling the young man. He only had a split second to realize that Maple had leaped over something, probably a fallen log or a large rock, before the wagon came crashing down again. The slight man was thrown into the air as the wooden frame shattered from the sheer force of its landing. Hitting the ground hard, though thankfully out of the terrified horse's path, Matthew rolled through the muddy undergrowth until his head met a rock. Then he knew nothing.

XX

The sound of chirping birds and leaves rustling gently in the wind tore through his skull like the shrieking of an alley cat, the pain forcefully yanking him out of his blissful unconsciousness. Dazed and shivering in the light breeze, Matthew tried to push himself up, only to realize that moving only revealed aches and pains throughout every part of his body. Sagging to the ground, he lay there for another moment as the events of the night before played across his mind.

Alfred was going to kill him, Matthew groaned with realization. Alfred was going to kill him, and he'd deserve it. He'd nearly gotten himself killed, and he'd lost Maple along with the wagon and all of the supplies. Sighing, Matthew pushed himself off the ground, grimacing as he desperately tried to ignore the splitting pain that shot through his head.

Sitting up – a remarkable feat in itself – Matthew took the chance to study his surroundings. His vision was fuzzy – he was quick to realize that it was due to the loss of his glasses, probably when he had been thrown from the wagon. Squinting tightly, an action that only irritated the piercing ache in his skull, it was all he could do to tell that there was no sign of Maple, nor of the wagon. It was just trees, trees, and more trees, on all four sides – at least as far as he could see. Any hope he had of finding his way back to the road fled.

Matthew shivered harder, wincing as he wrapped his arms around his torso for some semblance of warmth. His throat ached, and his stomach growled noisily, all too quick to remind the young blond that it had been at least half a day since he had eaten.

Deciding that staying where he was would be completely pointless, Matthew managed to rise to his feet, steadying himself by clinging desperately to a tree. His legs ached miserably as he wobbled on them like a newborn foal, but they did not collapse beneath him as he feared they would. Slowly, using a large branch as a crutch to help steady himself, Matthew began walking. There was no way to tell if he was headed towards the road or not, but eventually the forest would end, and there were bound to be people wherever he ended up.

XX

Breathing heavily, Matthew allowed himself to rest as he took the final step past the line of trees that formed the forest edge. The sun was falling in the sky, signaling the oncoming darkness. The hunger pains had long been forgotten while his head still throbbed with a vengeance. Matthew sank to the ground with a sigh, leaning back against the trunk of a tree as he allowed himself to rest.

Tired violet eyes scanned the area outside the forest, focusing on the shadowy outline of a grim-looking castle in the near distance. It seemed to radiate a darkness, an evil so horrifying he could not breathe – and then Matthew blinked, and it was no more than a castle-shaped blur.

Had there been any other visible option, Matthew might have allowed himself to follow his instincts, but with no village in sight, no road leading off into the distance that might carry the promise of travelers, and no way he would ever be able to summon up the energy needed to continue walking as he had been all day, the young man shoved his fear away into the depths of his mind with a wry chuckle. He was supposed to be the sensible one, and it was something Alfred would do to assume that because a castle looked a bit spooky – an effect that was most likely caused by his own bad eyesight – it was evil.

So, his mind made up and his strength returning, Matthew rose to his feet once more. It didn't seem to be much more than a short distance to the castle, and he could do that. He had to.

Each step was agony, the tingling numbness that had filled his limbs as he had walked through the forest had faded during his rest. Matthew bit his lip, clinging to the branch that held him upright as he forced himself to lift his foot, set it down, and lift the other one. Again and again.

And then he was there, dwarfed by the magnificence of the gate, polished metal gleaming in the sinking sun. Yet, there was no bell. No gatekeeper. No way to announce his presence, at least so far as he could see. Matthew slumped against the cold metal, clinging to the bars to keep from collapsing to the ground. His head throbbed, and his legs would not hold him up for much longer.

"You shouldn't be here."

Matthew tilted his head to the side, too weary to lift it, and squinted in the direction of the fearful voice. "I. . . I don't-" He couldn't speak. His tongue was heavy, his throat dry, and his voice gave out before he could explain anything to the speaker.

The blurry figure moved closer. "I am sorry." Matthew had no time to wonder about the strange statement before he felt the gate opening beneath him. At the sudden movement, the blond stumbled forward and, unable to regain his balance, fell to the ground.

Weak and disoriented from the fall, Matthew blinked a few times, even as his eyelids grew heavy. He lay where he had fallen as unconsciousness claimed him.

I've been trying to work on this story for years. Got it all planned out, just need to sit down and write it. :(