Yay, we're back! This chapter is much shorter than the previous two; all things considered, a lot less happens, but it's all very important stuff! That's why it gets its own chapter, to get the time and attention it needs. I'll let you get right to it; see you at the bottom of the page!

It had been difficult to see much more than the outline of the beast while inside the dark estate, but out here, with the moon full and bright overhead, Reginald saw far more than he ever wished to. Despite its thick, red fur, the muscles on its chest and arms and legs were large and well defined. The long claws on its hands were filthy, and its hot breath smelled dreadful, though despite the large, gleaming fangs protruding from its mouth, no drool spilled down its chin. That, in combination with its angry, knowing, and altogether too human-like eyes, meant that this was not some mindless creature, but a beast with the intelligence of a man, and the meticulous rage of one, too.

"What the hell're you doing on my property?!" The beast boomed, the force of its volume blowing Reginald's hair back. "Who do you think you are, actin' like you own the damn place? I oughta tear you to pieces right now!"

Reginald was flat on his stomach, pressing himself against the ground in some instinctual hope that if he pressed hard enough, he could slip beneath the surface and hide forever. Fear was lighting along his nerves like fire, and it was frankly a miracle of God that he was able to respond at all. "I-I was trying to save my friends-!"

The beast barked once, like a bitter laugh, and Reginald cowered. "Bunch of worthless thieves is what you were 'saving'! Fat lot of good it did you, too." A strangled noise escaped Reginald's throat, and the beast's pointy ears flattened against its head. "Come on. On yer feet," it growled, jerking a clawed thumb over its shoulder. "You can start by emptying your pockets. Gold'll be no use to you in the dungeon. Hand it over."

"I didn't s-steal any gold-"

"Then hand over whatever you did steal!" The beast roared, nearly blowing out Reginald's ears. "Quit playin' semantics and do what you're told, thief! NOW!"

"I didn't even steal anything!" Reginald moaned. "All I took was-" The words caught in his throat as his memory caught up with him, and he scrambled to reach into his inner pocket. "No, no, no-!" A clump of sticky, bruised petals fell onto the ground beneath him with a pathetic *plop*, and he stared at it for a long moment, completely silent.

A crushed flower was not the end of the world, realistically speaking. Considering the trouble he was in right now, it was hardly even worth a thought. But after getting pinned beneath a beast as he watched Terrence run and leave him to die, the rose became the straw that broke the camel's back.

Choked sobs fell past his lips as Reginald wept on the ground, hiding his face in the scent of roses and dirt as fear, despair, and humiliation tore his insides apart. He was worth less to Terrence than a candlestick. Terrence had turned back around, running towards the beast, to save a candlestick. Not him. None of the other members of the Toppat Clan had come back for him, either, though whether it was because they didn't know of his sacrifice or didn't care, it made no difference. He couldn't realistically expect them to risk their lives to save him from the claws of an angry beast. Only he was stupid enough to do so. Only he was sentimental enough to think that honor and dignity was worth more than gold.

He cradled the rose close to his heart and sobbed harder. There would be no rose bushes growing above his mother's grave. In fact, without anyone to tend to his garden, there would be no plants thriving for his mother at all, soon. Terrence certainly wasn't going to do it, and the people of Lil' Town, as well meaning and kind as they were, did not have the time to care for his decorative plants as well as their essential foodstuffs.

Oh God, his villagers! They'd have no idea what happened to him! His heart twisted, as if trying to split itself in two. The beast would eat them alive if they tried to save him, but a dark, selfish part of him wanted them to try anyway. Just as proof that someone in this awful world actually cared about him. That he wasn't completely alone.

As his tears finally ran dry, leaving him quaking with exhaustion, it occurred to Reginald that the beast had not eaten him. It hadn't even dragged him off to the dungeon while he was blubbering, even though it had spoken as if the dungeon was exactly where he was meant to go. A terrifying, disgusting thought sunk into his bones like a sickness: was the beast enjoying his misery, watching his tears and agony with a twisted, inhuman thrill? Indignant rage gave Reginald a burst of energy, and he glared over his shoulder, ready to spit or swear at the beast…

The beast sat on its haunches, eyes darting around at everything except Reginald as an awkward silence seemed to billow forth from it, like fog. Its dark lips were closed in a firm line, fangs pinching it harshly.

"...What," Reginald managed, voice hoarse and rough. "What do you want?"

The beast's eyes snapped back to him and he flinched. Its expression grew hard, but not angry, and it was a long moment before it spoke. "On your feet," it growled again, backing away to give Reginald room to stand. "Get up and follow me."

Any energy that his brief anger had brought him was completely drained away, and though he wanted nothing more than to lie down and die, he couldn't stand the thought of the beast roaring at his defiance again. Slowly, painfully slowly, Reginald struggled to get to his feet, dirt smeared across the front of his shirt and his face. His ankle continued to flare with pain, no matter how little weight he put on it, forcing him to stand at an awkward angle with all of his weight on his good leg.

Once he was mostly upright, the beast pointed over its shoulder towards the estate. "Walk."

Unable to defy the order, Reginald limped towards the estate, biting his lip harshly to keep from hissing in pain. The beast paced back and forth behind him, seeming to grow restless as Reginald hobbled down the path and struggled up the stairs to the front doors. He had a feeling that the beast wanted to pick him up and carry him to the dungeon, but for whatever reason, it chose not to. Reginald was silently grateful; he might actually die of fright if the beast grabbed him now.

The beast moved in front of him and held the door open for Reginald, waiting until he was several feet inside before shutting the door with an echoing bang. Reginald flinched at the sound; he couldn't help himself.

The beast slowly rose back onto its hind legs, towering over Reginald as it took a candlestick in its claws. It was another one of those unusually large candles in the unusually small candlesticks, and Reginald stared at the strange, almost gentle way the beast carried the object. He became even more confused when the beast began to walk up the grand staircase.

"The dungeon's that way," Reginald mumbled, pointing vaguely in the direction he'd gone the first time he entered.

The beast turned around in a single fluid motion, staring at him with a mix of annoyance and bewilderment. Even the candle seemed to be giving him a look, though that was surely his exhaustion playing tricks on him. "You want to go to the dungeon?" The beast asked incredulously.

The question left Reginald stunned. "...No?"

The beast rolled its eyes. "Then quit whining and follow me." It turned back around and strode smoothly up the stairs. Reginald followed as quickly as he could, leaning heavily on the banister and essentially dragging himself after the beast.

They walked slowly down a number of hallways that Reginald was too tired to keep track of. He could feel impatience radiating off the beast like waves of heat, but he found he was too tired to care, dutifully trudging after it like some half dead creature. It went on long enough that he nearly ran into the beast from behind, managing to catch himself just before he face-planted into its back. He watched as the beast turned around and took a step back, gesturing to a closed door with the candlestick. The candle's flame glimmered against the smooth white surface of the wood, displaying the strange but delicate symbols carved into the door.

The beast cleared its throat and Reginald jumped, wincing as pain lanced up his bad leg. "This will be your room," it said, stormy eyes flicking between him and the door. "If you follow the rules, I won't make you stay in the dungeon."

"Rules?" Reginald asked faintly.

"Rule one," the beast lifted a clawed finger. "You will not. Steal. Anything. We'll know if you do."

"We-?"

"Rule two." Up went another finger. "Don't leave this estate unless I give permission. Understand?"

A cold, sinking feeling filled Reginald's stomach. "...Yes," he whispered.

"Good. And rule three." One more finger; Reginald noticed for the first time that the beast had five fingers, much like a human. "You can go anywhere you want… except the room at the back of the estate."

"Why, what's in-"

"BECAUSE I SAID SO!" The beast roared, and Reginald fell back in fright, managing to grab the doorknob as he did. He flung it open and threw himself inside, slamming the door behind him and scrabbling to turn the lock. His shaking hands finally managed it, and he hung from the doorknob for several moments, desperately trying to calm his breathing as he listened to the beast growl quietly and pace back and forth just outside. There was a pause, and Reginald nearly jumped again as the beast barked and bounded down the hallway, the uneven gait of its four-legged rush thundering away until it faded into silence.

Reginald remained where he was for a few more moments. Then he used the doorknob to pull himself back to his feet, slowly turning to take in the room he was in. It was a bedroom that was as big as the main room of his house, with a plush bed that was nearly as big as his bedroom. Tiny candles were lined along the wall in even intervals, lit with tiny flames that barely allowed him to see. The pillows on the bed were fluffy and clean, and the duvet was a cool, pale green with elegant pink flowers sewn into the fabric. There was a second door with a golden handle and decals set into the wall near the entrance, and Reginald gingerly peeked inside. He could see the pale, vague outline of a large bathtub gleaming in the tiny candle lights, bigger than any he'd ever seen.

Reginald closed the door again, staring into the bedroom- his bedroom- without really seeing it. He felt like he was drifting as he hobbled along the wall towards the bed. He'd just managed to climb halfway onto it when exhaustion took hold, his pain and fear fading into a deep, tense darkness.

Achievement Get: You Didn't Die (Yet)! Hooray! *A dying noisemaker sounds out as confetti falls on top of Reginald's half dead body in a clump*

The Beast probably realized as Reginald started walking that this was going to take a while. Patience is the name of the game, and the Beast isn't very good at it. Luckily, it was able to sense the mood and not lug Reginald around in one hand like a ragdoll; the shock might have killed him.

Gee, there sure are a lot of giant candles in tiny candlesticks; that's the third one we've seen! ...Or is it the third time we've seen the same one? Nah, couldn't be.

The room at the back of the estate is forbidden! You'll never find out what's back there, so don't even think about speculating! Reginald sure won't be, definitely probably. He'll be too busy being sad to speculate, also probably maybe.

What will become of poor Reginald? What strange terrors and wonders will he be privy to? Find out... next week! Leave a comment, and I'll see you later. Until then!