|
Beauty
and the Zom-beast |
She was
indeed quite
the beauty,
the
candlestick
thought of
his master's
new
prisoner.
Beauty had a
lovely round
face, made
sweet by the
rosy blush
on her
cheeks and
large dark
eyes. Her
simple blue
and white
dress
emphasized
the lush
curves that
had made her
the toast of
the town and
the name on
every man's
lips. Yet
she was
here, the
forgotten
castle in
the woods,
begging for
her father's
life like a
dutiful
daughter
should.
Resolve was
writ into
her fine
features.
"If I stay
here, my
father will
be free of
the prince's
terrible
curse?"
"Yes," said
Candlestick,
his face
sad. "And
you must vow
never to
leave if you
wish for
your Papa to
be safe."
"Ever?"
"Ever."
A distraught
look crossed
her face.
"What if I
have to use
the
bathroom?"
Hm.
Candlestick
began to get
the
impression
that the
girl wasn't
known for
her brains.
"You can use
any of the
twelve
lavatories
here in the
castle."
"Oh." She
chewed on
her full
lip, as if
determined
to outsmart
him in some
way and find
a way out of
her
predicament.
Suddenly,
her face
brightened.
"This is an
enchanted
castle,
isn't it?"
"Whatever
gave you
that
impression,"
he
deadpanned.
As if the
chatty
cutlery
hadn't clued
her in until
just now.
But she
pursed her
lips,
scrunching
up her face
as if a
thought had
just
occurred
(and that it
hurt to put
forth such a
grand effort
effort).
"Are you
quite all
right,
miss?"
"I have an
idea," she
told him,
seeming
rather
pleased with
herself.
"Enchanted
castles have
princes."
"This one
does too."
The
candlestick
resisted the
urge to
thwap her
across the
forehead
with a
taper.
"Remember?
You agreed
to do his
wishes and
stay here
forever?"
Her brown
eyes
clouded.
"But I
thought you
were the
master
here."
Candlestick
sighed. "No.
We've been
over this
twice. The
prince is
the master
here. I am
merely his
humble
servant."
"Why isn't
he here to
greet me?"
He only
rises from
the dead
after dark.
"He's a
tad...under
the weather
at the
moment."
She looked
around the
musty,
cobwebby
dining room
and wrinkled
her pert
nose. "If
he's a
prince, why
is he living
in a dump
like this?"
Her chair
shifted, and
the
candlestick
knew that
the
enchanted
furniture
was
resisting
the urge to
kick her. He
knew the
feeling.
Candlestick
cleared his
throat
loudly. "The
master is
under a
curse, like
the rest of
us. He has
been
transformed
into
a…beast."
His voice
cracked at
the last
part, the
big fat lie
part.
You could
certainly
call the
master a
'beast', he
supposed.
'Mindless
undead'
might be
better, but
Beauty
didn't seem
like the
type to
handle
'icky'
things well.
"Can this
curse be
lifted?"
Candlestick
winced at
the thought.
"I suppose
it can, yes.
Lifting the
curse would
free us all,
even
yourself."
She
brightened.
"And I would
be free to
go to the
bathroom
wherever I
wanted?"
"Wherever
you wanted,"
he echoed.
They were
doomed.
#
He had to
give her a
little more
credit. She
didn't cry a
drop when
her father
left the
castle,
though she
waved a lacy
hankie at
him and
sniffed
heavily.
When it grew
darker, she
watched from
the window
upstairs,
pressing her
nose against
the glass
until the
sun went
down.
"There's a
way to lift
the curse?"
she asked
him for the
eighteenth
time that
day.
"Indeed."
Maybe he
could foist
her off on
the clock
soon…
"How do I do
it?" She
asked, a
rare burst
of
determination
and
intelligence
crossing her
face. "How
do I lift
the curse?"
Candlestick
twitched.
"You, ah,
have to fall
in love with
the prince."
"Is he
handsome?"
The stupid
chit forgot
everything.
"He's
cursed,
remember?"
"Is he
cursed to be
handsome?"
Her face
brightened.
"That might
not be so
terrible."
Saints give
him
strength.
"He was
handsome
once…perhaps
he would be
again if you
broke the
spell,"
Candlestick
replied,
evasive.
Perhaps that
would tide
her over
until the
master made
an
appearance.
"And would
falling in
love involve
intercourse?"
If the
candlestick
had a tongue
at that
point, he
would have
choked on
it. Good
grief. "I
really
cannot
speculate,
madam-"
A low,
droning moan
interrupted
the two of
them. At the
window,
Beauty froze
in the
pooling
twilight,
and the
candlestick
sighed.
The master
was awake.
"Is that
him?" Beauty
asked. No,
nothing
escaped her.
"That's
him."
She picked
up the
candlestick
– as if he
couldn't
move on his
own or such
nonsense –
and lifted
him into the
air to see
by. An
obedient
servant to
the end,
Candlestick
lit the
room. Might
as well get
this over
with.
Footsteps
shuffled in
the hall,
followed by
the same low
moan.
The door
began to
open.
Beauty
straightened
her dress
and thrust
her breasts
out, then
fluffed her
hair with
her free
hand. "Just
intercourse,
and then I'm
free,
right?"
"Whatever."
He was so
done with
this.
She licked
her lips and
gave her
cheeks a
quick pinch,
then waited.
The thing
that
shuffled
through the
door was the
prince all
right, but
he wasn't a
beast. Or
rather, he'd
been a beast
once…until
he'd fallen
down the
stairs and
broken his
neck some
decade or so
ago. What
was left was
a shambling,
monstrous
thing that
wouldn't
stay dead
and liked to
eat the
flesh of
those that
came to the
castle.
After all,
the castle
occupants
weren't free
of the curse
until a
maiden broke
the spell.
Looking at
Beauty,
Candlestick
had his
doubts about
the whole
'maiden'
thing
anyhow.
"Oh," she
said,
looking at
the
monstrous
thing with
the broken
neck and the
rotting
body. "Oh
my." She
leaned in
close to the
candlestick.
"I do
believe that
thing ate
our handsome
prince."
Sigh. "That
is the
prince, my
lady."
He expected
her to
scream at
that point.
Collapse in
a fit of
tears as the
thing
shuffled
toward her.
Maidens
before her
had
certainly
done that.
But she
showed an
inner core
of strength
that
surprised
him. That
little bow
mouth
tightened in
dismay, her
face
squinching
up again as
the thing
shuffled
toward her,
arms out.
She ducked
under the
Beast's arm,
running down
the hall
with the
candlestick
still in
hand.
"Braaaains,"
they could
hear faintly
at the other
end of the
wing.
Beauty
didn't stop
walking,
very
purposeful
in her step.
"Where are
we going?"
Candlestick
asked her.
"I have a
plan," she
said firmly,
and clutched
him tighter
in her hand,
moving
toward the
thick, dry
drapes at
the far end
of the hall.
#
An hour
later, they
stood on the
lawn of the
castle,
watching the
entire thing
go up in
flames. The
candlestick
covered his
small metal
face in
horror. If
he listened
hard, he
could still
hear the
moans of his
master from
deep inside,
along with
the screams
of the dying
furniture.
Beauty had a
hard,
fanatical
look in
those doe
eyes as she
watched the
enchanted
castle burn
down. She
only glanced
down at him
once, her
pretty mouth
firm. "If
you tell
anyone of
this, I
shall have
you melted
into a
chamberpot."
Candlestick
promised
never to
tell a soul.
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