I have taken ideas from both the move and the original tale.
Here is the next chapter! Please read, review and enjoy!
A crack of lightening lit up the room for an instant, a mere flash of seconds before the door shut behind her with the roll of thunder overhead. Belle turned quickly, now shut away in total darkness, and touched the door with her fingers. It was cold to the touch but did not budge. She was trapped. She placed her back on the door, feeling the dampness of her clothes seep into her skin as she tried to look around. Belle heard a noise, a clink or clank of some sort that startled her. She stepped away from the door, her eyes searching for what had made the sound. Movement caught her eye and she tried to follow it, losing her direction after many twists and turns. Belle stopped, reaching out into the darkness as if there was someone there, or something. Within the darkness something moved before her, beckoning, and she followed.
As she walked her footsteps seemed to echo within the walls of this place, and Belle shivered with cold and fear. She touched her head, a sigh escaping her lips as she leaned against a nearby wall as she supressed tears. She was tired and cold, trapped within this placed that seemed to echo her emotions. Her head snapped up at the sound of movement, a sound that was unnatural to her ears. "Hello?" She called out softly, reaching out once more. A flash a flames rose up in front of her, a tall spindly creature with fire for hands, face engulfed in flames; hollow darken spots where eyes once were. She did not bother looking intently at him in her surprise, she screamed and her feet turned to ran back where she had come from. A tall figure loomed over her, a face twisted and marked with numbers, gears clicking and turning in his body, his eyes rotating cogs of a gear.
Belle screamed once more, turning back to the fiery figure and bolting past him, her footsteps no longer heard over the beats of her heart. Movement behind her urged her faster, sounds coming from all sides frightened her. She felt the world slip out from under her as her foot did not land on solid ground, her body colliding with air then stone as she tumbled down a set of stairs. She did not know if she screamed or not, the air seemed to rush out of her lugs by the time she stopped, landing on something flat and cold, light flashing through a window. Belle opened her eyes slowly, pain radiating through her entire body. She heard a cough nearby and Belle sat up slowly as a voice rasped. "Is someone there?"
Belle gasped, a voice she knew as well as her own. "Papa?" She asked softly, a flash of lightening illuminated the room briefly, and she saw a hand outstretched through bars. Belle crawled over, touching the hand softly, and it grasped her tightly. "Papa, is that you?"
"Belle?" The voice rasped, and the worn face of a nobleman seemed to appear. "No, you shouldn't be here."
"What happened Papa?" She whispered. The man before her looked nothing like the man she knew, he was thin and frail with eyes the flickered uneasily in the darkness. Their family had once been very prosperous, a wealthy merchant in the distant past; but that title had been stripped from them with the destruction of all their ships and belongings. Belle had once had two sisters, but they were much older and had married young for wealth. When the family no long had wealth, her sisters had disowned them while her father had set out to make a living as a farmer. But things had gone well, and her father had been going to the market to pursue a line of enquiry. "How did you come to be here?"
"Belle-" The voice rasped, "You must leave here, quickly."
"You are sick." Belle spoke softly, trying to reach her hand through the bars to touch his face.
"Belle, listen to me." He spoke, grasping her hand tightly through the bars and she gasped in pain. "You must go, leave and never return. Forget me." There was a sound in the distance, and it made them pause, Belle looked behind her as lightening flashed and thunder roared. Her father shivered, suddenly grabbing her shoulders and shaking her. "Go, my daughter. Run, don't look back."
"There is someone in my castle." A voice hissed, whispering in the room. Belle felt her father's grip tighten, his eyes going wide like a feral animal.
"I am getting you out of here." Belle said, her voice firm as she pried his hands away.
"Belle no!" Her father pleaded, "Go, before-"
There was a roar, it was like a roll of thunder, maybe once it had been a yell. Belle froze, her eyes searching in the darkness, her breath shallow. Shaking her head, she saw a key ring in the far corner and ran over to it. It had been fastened to the wall, great strength had forced the hook shut, the key ring unmoveable. Belle grasped the ring despite this, her eyes watching as her hands failed to pry the ring loose. Lightning flashed and out of the corner of her eye something stood, a figure. She gasped and turned, her eyes seeing nothing. There was a presence none the less, she felt it; the anger.
She heard whimpering from the cell, and she knew it was her father. She held her breathe, she felt eyes on her and she did not know where to turn. "Run!" Her father cried, and a deep snarl came from whoever was in the room with them. Belle saw her father's arm reach of the cell, trying to grab something and she knew she had to go. Her heart said she could not leave him there, to suffer and die in this place. She heard a sound, a crack, and her father howled in pain; recoiling into his cell. Her feet moved of their own volition, "Don't hurt him!" she cried, falling to her knees as she reached inside the cell, her fingers touching something warm and liquid. She could not see her father's face within the cell, it was too dark; but she could hear him whimpering in pain. "What did you do to him!?" She said, turning her head in the dark to look up at a shadow.
"Come to stare?" A voice growled, it was deep and smooth with an edge like a knife. The shadow must have been seven feet tall, the size doubled in the darkness, lighting flashing and illuminating the giant shadow.
"What are you talking about? I have come for my father." She replied, her voice as strong as she could make it. She turned her head back to her father, who was muttering for her to go.
"He is my prisoner." The voice replied with steely force.
"Can't you see he is ill?" She said, turning to face the creature as she stood. "You must let him go." The shadow chuckled and it made Belle shiver. "Please, he needs a physician."
"You have no place here." The voice snarled, "Get out." She felt the anger behind his voice, and she knew he meant every word.
"I can not leave without him." She replied, her hands gripping the cell door.
"Then perhaps you should join him." The shadow snarled, stepping closer.
"No!" Her father rasped, appearing at the cell door quickly, his hands coming through the bars to grasp his daughter. "Go, daughter."
"Papa, no." She whispered, turning to the hands that grasped her. Her mind ran quickly in a manner of different ways, turning slowly to the shadow. "What if I – " Belle spoke softly, her eyes going from the floor to where she guessed his eyes to be. "-took his place?"
The shadow snarled, "You!?"
"Belle, no, think of what you are doing!" Her father rasped, "Go Belle, live your life."
"You would-" The voice spoke softly, and Belle felt the shift in his anger to something else, disbelief perhaps. "-take his place."
"Would you let him go free?" Belle asked, her voice almost pleading.
The shadow said nothing, and Belle felt like the silence lingered on for an eternity. Her father was muttering his protests, but she heard none of them. The castle seemed to creak and moan, speaking if it's approval and yet disapproval. "Promise one thing."
"Anything." Belle said readily.
"Promise to stay here forever."
Belle opened her lips and shut them again, she looked at her father and touched his face through the bars. Her world went silent, thoughts of her father and sisters came to mind, the farm… "I will never see my father again." She whispered, lowering her eyes to the floor. But he will be alright.
"I won't let you do this." Her father rasped, clutching her tightly.
"I accept." Belle said, raising her head. It was sudden, the whole castle moaned and creaked along with the thunder and lightning. The shadow moved quickly, the cell was yanked open in a flash, her father seemed be hauled up and out. Belle saw the shadow move, and she ran to follow it. She tried to run behind it, stumbling along the way from cold and exhaustion. The shadow seemed the move faster and faster, until she could no longer feel it around her. She looked for a way in the darkness until she heard the large door creak. "Wait!" She called, urging her feet forward. She felt something cold on her wrist pulling her forward until she reached the entranceway. The door was open, and Belle could see a form throwing her father inside some dark, unearthly carriage. "Papa? Wait, please!" She called, her feet urging her towards the door as the shadow reached it, stepping inside as the door shut. Belle grasped the handle, just as the locked clicked shut. "No." She breathed, her palm resting on the door.
"You've made your choice." The voice snarled in the darkness.
"Why didn't you let me say goodbye?" Belle asked, looking up into the darkness. "I will never see him again, why didn't you let me say goodbye?" She turned so that she faced it, on hand on the door handle.
"You asked for his freedom," The voice hissed, "Not a chance to say goodbye. Perhaps you should have been more specific." Belle turned her head back to the door, shaking her head in silence. The shadow did not move, it seemed to watch her as she shivered in the darkness. "Come with me."
Belle felt something on her skin, and she looked down to see a twisted hand like thing wrapping its long fingers around her wrist. She shuddered and the thing stopped, lingering above her wrist. Looking up slowly, she thought she saw a face in the shadow; sad eyes that seem willed with pain. Belle turned her wrist over her palm as she touched the finger like tendrils, enclosing them in her own. It moved, and with his direction she followed easily. Belle did not think know if they were the same direction as before, it seemed different – they were going up flights of stairs. "Where are you taking me?" She asked softly.
"To your room." The voice drawled, "Or would you prefer to remain in the dungeon?"
"I didn't expect - thank you." Belle said softly as he guided her up another flight. These stairs seemed endless in the dark, and Belle's strength waned as they finally reached the room. The shadow made a sound and the door opened, a large room stood before her and the hand removed itself from hers, and Belle put her hand on the door way, squinting in the dark.
"Lumiere!" The shadow hissed, and Belle turned to find him gone from her side, a subtle emptiness loomed as she turned back to the room. Stepping in, she jumped when the door closed; leaving her in total silence and darkness. Feeling the tears now on her cheeks, she closed her eyes; only to be startled as a fire roared up in the hearth. She sniffed, walking over and sitting very ungracefully on the floor, warming her hands to it. It was not long before sleep took her, her body sliding to the floor in front of the fire.
Is it true?
A girl in the castle?
The door swung open slowly, faces in the darkness watching her in curiosity and fear. Some were short, their bodies twisted to become much like the master, hands replaced by their profession.
"She must be freezing." A soft voice said, and a small creature walked forth; hands of china cups and a body of cracked porcelain and blue eyes that were glossy with time and age.
"And scared." Smooth like flame flickering alone in the night the fire man spoke. His voided eyes watched in unsettled distemper.
"Whose – fault – might - that - be?" The clockman spoke, his tongue clicking with each word as the gear moved inside him.
"Well we have to help her." A clear voice said, and woman stepped forward. She too was changed like the rest, but her eyes remained the most human despite the cracked porcelain that made her skin. She had been medium height and portly once; now she had only one good hand, the other was molded to her body like a handle, her feet could only take small steps. Her good hand was a mix of different utensils; spoons and little tongs.
"What can we do?" A richer voice asked from inside the room, a figure emerging from the woodwork; a woman made of wood, hair of threads and skin of fading fabric. Face turned to the woman by the fire, looking at her companions with a shake of her head.
"We can give warm clothes and something to eat." The porcelain woman said, "But she must never see us."
"Agreed." The fireman spoke, watching his companions. "We must tell the others."
"I can help her." A young female voice spoke, spinning into the room on feet of dusters and legs of a wooden nature. Her hands were similar to that of her former self, but the fingers were condensed silks of a duster she could separate into tendrils.
"We – should – ask – the – master – first." The clockman spoke. "Should – not – make – him – angry."
"And leave her to starve?" The porcelain woman asked, turning head slightly to address him.
"And freeze?" The wooden woman asked, her wooden eyes watching the creature. "Even you are not that cold Cogsworth. Even I, whose heart has long turned to wood do not wish that for her."
"Could she help us mother?" The porcelain boy asked, stepping forward to take a closer to the girl on the floor. "She is very pretty."
"Look where beauty has taken us." The flameman spoke, "Perhaps her heart is true, it matters not. We are beyond hope, this is our prison."
The dusterwoman nodded in agreement. "But she will turn like us in time."
"Perhaps." A voice drawled behind them, and the creatures turned to face their master. The twisted creature stepped into the light of the fire, the twisted and fractured nature of his skin and muscle; this skeleton of nightmares with holes for eyes, a chest of decaying muscle and tendons moved towards the girl, his hands extending to her and picking the girl in his arms like a doll. His eyes watched her, the light danced on her skin and her lips, her body trembled from cold yet the feeling of her strength remained. He placed the girl on the bed, stepping back from her with an internal wince. There would be no such sleep for him, he had not slept in many a year; no relief from the pain that ailed him. "Perhaps not." He drawled, turning back to the creatures of his castle. He walked out of the room, retreating back to his tower. He no longer cried out with every step, every breath; he no longer had the energy to cry, that was too painful.
Reaching the tower, he stopped as his eyes locked on a thing in a vase. A rose, once red like the blood than ran within him, blackened like charcoal sat under a panel of shaped glass. How many years had it stayed red before decaying like his body? Or perhaps it reflected his soul, he could no longer remember. He growled, looking to the window and the storm outside.
/
Somewhere in her dreams a voice called to her -
Welcome Beauty, banish fear,
- a lullaby to ease her mind.
You are queen and mistress here.
A haunting sound, a woman's voice –
Speak your wishes, speak your will,
- a remnant of something long past remembering….
Swift obedience meets them still.