The Boy and The Beast.

Chapter 6: my room.

A string of sniffles and silent tears was all Newt could do, he'd given everything up. The tearful boy looked up and immediately looked back down as he saw his kidnapper.

"You didn't even let me say goodbye!" He managed to cry out before wiping his tears away, the last thing he wanted was to show the beast was vulnerability.

"I'll never get to see him again." Newt still couldn't wrap his head around what had happened. He mumbled a few more words about his father before the beast softly interrupted him.

"I'll show you to your room." Newt glared upwards.

"A room, I thought..." Surely prisoners shouldn't have their own rooms.

"Do you want to stay in this cold cell forever?" The beast asked rather harshly. But had he been concerned for Newt. No. A creature so heartless could never care for someone other than himself. Newt shook his head.

Shakily, the boy stood up and cautiously walked to the door. He followed the beast down long and grand corridors filled with statues, a ruby carpet and torn banners. Newt shivered at the reason why it may be that why and kept following behind.

"Say something to him." The candelabra whispered to the beast.

"I hope you like it here." The beasts words were uncertain seeing how much emotional pain the younger was in.
"You are free to go wherever you want. Expect the west wing." The last words were serious as if his life depended on it.

"What's in the west wing?" Newt asked curious.

"It's forbidden!" That was enough said. Newt didn't need to be told twice.

Before Newt knew it, they have arrived at a double wooden door. "Here this is your room, if you need anything my servants will be here."

"Invite him to dinner." The candelabra interfered again.

"Y...You will join me for dinner that is not a request!" And with that the beast slammed the door, Newt swiftly turned about balling his fists up against the door.

Realising there was not a shred of hope left to cling to, Newt gave up and sat on the edge of his new grand bed.
His head in his hands, letting the tears slide through the gaps of his fingers.

"Why do you cry dear?"

"Who said that?" Newt announced, building up his gaurd.

Newt knew that things in the castle were alive. He stood and looked at objects around the room.

"Dear I'm over here, the wardrobe although it would be nice if you called me Queenie." The wardrobe spoke almost in a calming manner that made Newt relax.

Although it wasn't normal for a wardrobe to speak but Newt wasn't what you would call normal either.

"Sorry if I scared you sweetheart." Queenie apologised.

"I should be the one apologising, I shouldn't ever had bothered you by even coming here." Newt said.

"Oh don't be silly, I see master is being cruel as always but don't worry he'll warm up to you." Newt could never see that happening.

"I'm sure if it." Queenie added but this time in more of a light tone as if Newt could hear her smiling.