Rating: NC-17 with WARNINGS, see first chapter.

Belle was completely exhausted, both emotionally and physically, as she reached the front stoop of the library and turned the key. She half stumbled, half shuffled inside, quickly bolting the door behind her. She didn't need anymore surprises tonight.

She shrugged off her coat, adding it to the coat stand in the library's foyer and made her way back to her loft, a private compartment of rooms above the main library floor. As she climbed the stairs, her mind was numb. Only her normal routine mattered now. As she reached her room, she felt the need to bolt that door behind her, too. The fear she had felt was exquisite and even in her current state, she couldn't - wouldn't - let anyone else near her tonight.

She stripped silently, her ruined clothing discarded in the trash - the unruined clothing with it. This skirt and top and socks and even shoes would never be worn again.

The bathroom was her next stop, to inventory the damage. She found several shallow lacerations across her chest and her abdomen from the ripping and tearing of clothing. Bruises were dark and deep on her hips, left wrist, breasts and neck, as well as a few other miscellaneous spots she didn't really want to think about.

She stepped into the tub next and turned the shower on almost as hot as it would go, relishing the heat against her skin, wanting the last hour to just wash away with everything else. She scrubbed her skin raw, cringing as she soaped between her legs, the flesh brutalized and angry. But soon the archaic procedure of washing the filth from her body was over, and she stepped out, drying her body much more gently that she had cleaned it. Now was time for softness, gentleness.

She exited the bathroom and made her way to the queen bed in the middle of her room. She opened the dresser next to it and slipped on a t-shirt, an over-sized pajama top over that, and full length pajama pants - not wanting to leave any more skin open to the night than necessary, turned back her covers, slipped inside the sheets and pulled them over her head like she had when she was a child. It wasn't until she turned out the lights and all was still that she heard The Wolf's lament once more, out in the night. The tears came again and while curled up in the fetal position, she eventually cried herself to sleep.

Ruby woke the next morning on the floor of the diner's kitchen. She tried to remember the previous night's events but the memories were hazy. . . At least at first. But as she moved to pull herself from the cold linoleum, flashbacks began to bombard her - the tastes, the smells, Belle's face in front of her, twisted against rock - no wait - concrete? A concrete wall? And Ruby's hands were all over her‒

Ruby began to panic. No. No! Please tell me this didn't happen.

She managed to pull herself up from the floor and look down at her own clothes. She saw a gash in her panties and vaguely remembered tearing them open, releasing herself from within. The Wolf had engulfed her by then. She remembered being so angry at Belle for not listening to her warnings. Why didn't you listen, sweet Belle?

She saw a long stream of dried cum, and other spots here and there, on the inside of her short skirt. Her worst fears were confirmed. She had assaulted and violated her very best friend. The woman she adored. The woman she secretly desired more than any other person on the planet, the woman she was in love with. The tears came hard and fast then. She clutched her stomach and retched, vomiting repeatedly into the industrial food service sink near the wall. The nausea in her belly was overwhelming, the knot in her throat threatening to cut off her oxygen completely. She vomited again and again until she slowly slid down the side of the sink to the floor once more, nothing left.

Oh, sweet, sweet Belle. I'm so sorry.

The tears fell relentlessly. She had destroyed the only woman she had ever truly loved and surely destroyed their friendship as well. There would be no coming back from this. Her heart seized in anguish and she begged against all rational thought, for the night to start over. To all of this to have been a bad nightmare. To make it all go away.

I lost her because I'm a monster.

It really was that simple.