Miserable Beast

Chapter 1: The Miserable Prince

In the middle of a miserable forest, lies a castle. There in that castle, lives a miserable prince. And on one cold September evening when a storm rolled in, inside that castle there was a grand ball.

Somehow the lights of the jewel decorated chandelier lit the room in a warm glow, the life makes the bits of gold in the white marble columns shimmer. The dark blue walls are decorated in black metal trims and candle holders. And the floor is a mosaic of gold and black stone, with pieces of more amber and dark orange as an accent. And the ceiling, a wonderful array of beams that feel they could reach the sky, also slightly kissed with a shimmering reflection of gems against the black and baby blue.

At the edge of the room, tall windows show the dark snow storm outside, in front of the windows, sits that miserable prince. Sitting on a throne of gold with black cushions. His servants by his side, as the slow music plays.

His skin is as pale as the moon, and his eyes reflect that, they are bright baby blue, and tired. His hair is unkempt and messy, his bangs cover the left side of his face completely. The back of it is tied in a neat ponytail with a bow, the hair puffing out like a dog's tail. His suit is stiff, but he's well dressed, a black dress suit laced with a gold pattern. With a small blue and gold pin. A white dress shirt with gold cufflinks. A stuffy yellow cavat, a belt with a gold crest on it, black pants and luxury black and dress shoes with gold accents.

A servant pipes up, "is there anyone you'd like to dance with?" Her voice was monotone and dry. The servant looked to be an organizer black hair, fair skin, blue eyes, and dressed nicely. Black puffy pants, with black boots, with a butler suit, with some gold decorative trims.

"No, no one here interests me as always," the prince spoke in a low annoyed voice.

"Must you be so picky? There's plenty of beautiful ladies here," his other servant spoke, annoyed. He had tanned, brown hair, also long and kept in a ponytail. With a similar dress to the other servant, though he had a bit more white spread around, he seemed a bit out of place from the two.

"I can be as picky as I want, I am the prince," the prince scowled.

"They came all this way in this blizzard, and you won't even show them courtesy?" He retorted calmly. "Your not even wearing your crown,"

"That I unfortunately must agree is ill-fitting," the servant girl stated.

The prince stands up "Enough, I will not be chastised in my own home by my own servants! Get out of my site, both of you!"

Suddenly the prince was interrupted by loud bangs on the glass door, someone was standing outside, drenched in black, somehow they got onto the balcony.

"The hell?" The prince stomps over and rips the doors open as the winter wind blows into the room. "State your business on my balcony! You realize I can have you sentenced to the dungeons for this-," he's interrupted an old dirty hand peer from behind the cloth. "Please, I only wish for shelter on this cold night,"

He tsks "you're nothing but an old and ugly hag, what would I gain from letting you in? Get out of my site." "I only wish for some warmth, please, I beg of you." she crowed. "Get out. Of my site." he repeated as he turned away.

The old woman's hand lunged forward, her nails digging into his flesh. The prince lets out a yell. "Let go of me you hag! That hurts!" His blood trickled down her hand.... The old woman's teeth shined brightly as she snarled with anger. Her dark cloak started to blow in the wind aimlessly. The only thing keeping it in place is the old womens surprisingly stern body.

"I see so you're just as wicked as the people say." her voice becomes echoed as it booms through the ballroom. The wind destroying the once beautiful place, the people begin to flee.