Blind and the Beast

The Depths of the Dungeon

-Belle-

Belle could hear someone descending the stairs. Her knees were tucked to her chest. She was still sitting in the exact place that the Beast had left her. 

He must have decided to eat her after all. Belle made a silent promise to herself that she would not go quietly. If she were going to get eaten, she would at least give him a headache.

When the footsteps stopped outside the door, dread coursed through her. There was the sound of metal on metal, and after some struggle and lots of attempts to open the door, it swung open.

It wasn't him. That was the first thing she noticed. The footsteps were shorter, and the breathing was more shallow. She was dealing with a different beast altogether. For a moment, there was no sound. Belle felt naked under the eye of the unknown intruder.

"Hello." His voice left a slight ringing in the air. He was not the King of Beasts, but he was not human. There was an awkward pause.

"Hello," Belle responded. She hated silence.

The man moved closer, and when Belle physically flinched back against the wall, he stopped his approach. "you are bleeding." he mentioned aloud. Belle tucked her injured arm closer to herself and laughed for her own benefit.

"I had not noticed."

"Of course." There was a beat of awkward silence before the creature continued.

"My name is Vanderwall, but most everyone calls me Vandy. I should-" he struggled with words for a moment.

"I should start with an apology."

Belle frowned. That was the last thing she had expected. She was in the heart of the Beast King's forest, and only hours into her abduction, she was getting an apology.

He was giving her strangely human sentiments from a monstrous source. It was jarring.

"I do not intend you any ill will. There is not a single soul in the walls of this castle that would lay a hand on you. The master- well- of course, you have not seen him in the best light, I am sure, but he is not cruel. You should not be here. I am sorry."

"Am I going to be killed?" She asked. Her patience for everything had grown thin. She was tired.

"No! Goodness, no." He said, his voice going up a few pitches. He was either lying or surprised by her question.

"Torture? Slavery? What will it be?" She asked.

"Nothing like that." His voice was desperate. His answer was immediate.

"I will not sit here and cower in fear. Whatever the reasons for bringing me here, bring it. I will not cry and beg for kindness." She warned.

Belle was angry at the turn the night had taken. She was supposed to be in her bed far from here. She was scared, but most of all, she was grasping onto her dignity with all she had. She would not fall and beg at her captor's feet for release.

"On my life, I do not know why you are here."

"If you do not know why I am here, then why are you here?" She asked.

"You are injured. I want to help."

"Can you help me safely home?" She asked.

"I cannot." His voice was not hostile, but it was resigned. 

She closed her eyes and leaned against the wall. She was overwhelmed. She just needed to be alone for a moment.

"I need nothing."

"Your wrist-" He started, but Belle shook her head. She did not want to be touched.

"Leave me. Please."

She did not really expect her request to be honored, but the next thing she knew, the door opened and closed. The lock did not click into place and she laughed to herself.

Escaping the forest would have been difficult, but now it was impossible. An open door was an insult.

She laughed at herself. She was pathetic.

-Vanderwall-

Vandy cleared the stairs two at a time, getting away from the girl as fast as he could. He could not avoid the feeling of guilt. He was, at least partly, responsible for her predicament. He was the one who had given the Beast a stirring speech about controlling your own destiny. The poor boy had been in a dismal place for months now. Vandy had only meant to give him some hope, but he did not mean for hope to turn into this. 

Vandy was on a quest for blood. Looking for his young master he started with his rooms and then to the gardens, the two places that the beast ever seemed to be. When he was not at either of those places, Vandy had resorted to checking the entire castle, floor by floor and room by room, carefully avoiding Polly and her questions.

When Vandy finally found the beast, he was in the west wing in his father's study with papers strewn all over the room and books thrown all about. Vandy opened his mouth then closed it and repeated those steps three or four times before letting it all out.

"What in the bloody hell are you doing?" He asked finally.

"A bit of light reading."

"A bit of light reading?" Vandy was not often pushed to hysterics. That was Polly's job, but he was helpless against the burning urge to strangle his master. "We have a human in the dungeon."

Vandy noticed the Beast's jaw locked up, and they eyed each other evenly.

"You need to let her go." Vandy said, letting out some of his anger and trying to break the words as gently as he could.

"No." The beast responded at once surprising even himself. "She wanted to be here. She made her decision and I made mine." His voice was cold and final and Vandy found himself open-mouthed, unable to argue any further.

The King was right of course, any woman out in the forest on a blood moon wants to be exactly where Belle found herself.

"Can I at least move her to one of the dozens of empty rooms that we have? Preferably one with a bed and a fireplace?"

"No." The beast said, turning his back to Vandy.

"She is injured. You might not have taken notice when you kidnapped her, but she needs to stay somewhere clean and warm."

"She will know enough castles in her life to know mine. She stays in the dungeon."

"You cannot just- you are not-" Vandy started his sentence over again and again until he just turned out of the room leaving the beast alone again.

The beast went back to his father's books looking for the paper he had not looked at in ages. It took him several hours of combing through every nook and cranny to find the familiar well-worn off-color paper. It was the safe keeper of the curse that was once his fathers and now belonged to him.

He read the comfortable words for the first time since they sealed his fate permanently.

Monster from birth inherits a curse only to be broken through love. If the love leaves the monster succeeds and will exist forever more.

The words of the curse seemed burned in his skin. Those words existed in every reminder of what he had lost. He forgot why he had searched up the curse, why he had this intense need to reread its words when they did nothing but trap him in a box.

He folded the paper along well-worn creases and left his father's study in ruin.