The Beast

1 - In the beginning

"There are two types of pain. One that hurts you and the one that changes you."

- Thomas Shelby, Peaky Blinders.

France 1788 - Clocksworth

"What are you?" I gasped, my eyes fixed on the brutal scene before me. My heart was pounding hard in my chest but my boots were frozen to the floor despite my brain screaming at me to run as the creature rose from the floor with blood dripping from its chin. My wife's blood.

Behind me was another monster and when a cold hand landed on my shoulder, I knew there was no point in trying to run.

"We are your future," said a soft voice in my ear. A voice with no warmth in its breath.

My legs started shaking, my whole body trembling as my eyes fell on the body lying twisted on the floor. Her light blue dress was stained with deep red blood and her long brown hair was scattered on the floor in a tangled mess.

A terrible sense of hopelessness washed over me though I was grateful that I didn't have to see her terrified face, the sight of her lifeless eyes would have made me break down even more. My wife, my beautiful, wonderful wife was dead, killed by this monster, and here I stood, doing nothing! My eyes frantically searched for my young daughter but there was no sign of her golden curls and panic began to fill my body. Julie, my little girl, where the hell was she?

The monster in front of me slowly turned into an ordinary man and immediately I gathered what little strength I had left inside me and took a step forward. My fists clenched and I lunged at him, without a thought for my own safety, and let out a battle cry filled with pain from the loss of my family.

I almost reached him when the murderer was swept away in front of me and thrown into the wall by a force so strong that I stumbled back and collapsed on the floor. With a pounding pulse, I watched as another man, this one dressed in a beautifully cut suit, took shape before my eyes. As if he was formed from nothing. With mounting horror, I watched as he grabbed the killer's neck and lifted him off the floor, his blood-stained shoes dangling in the air.

"How many times do I have to remind you, you idiot, we - are - not - barbarians!" he hissed in an icy cold voice, his mouth just inches from the other man's cheek. "You have gone too far," he continued, "you know the rules, we - do -not - kill - children, and for this you will be punished."

My heart broke as his words reached my ears, they were both gone. I collapsed into a heap on the floor, my legs couldn't hold me up anymore and silent tears ran uncontrollably down my cheeks.

I barely noticed the man standing behind me take a step closer but flinched when I felt his comforting hand on my shoulder. "Don't worry my friend," he spoke gently, "Prince Anthony will deal with him."

It was a small comfort. Whoever this prince was, I felt a strange gratitude towards him. He had finished something I was not capable of, I wanted to thank him, but before I could ask who they were, some strange magic spread through the room. Everything went black around me and I slipped into a dark nightmare of guilt, anger and despair.

"I should have saved them," I whispered over and over again with lips that could move despite my paralyzed body. Deep down, I knew I didn't stand a chance. I was nothing but a weak craftsman, I was no fighter and even if I had come home earlier, my chances of saving them would have been slim.

"Take him home, Lumiere," ordered a dark voice directed at the man still standing behind me. "He can replace this fool, a newborn will serve me better."