Through A Beast's Soul
"What if the Beast kept a journal?" I decided to write a story based off this idea.
DISCLAIMER: Most of the story goes on par with the original versions of the tale. I credit the main versions to Villeneuve and Leprince de Beaumont—I am just retelling!
The Beast (I won't reveal his real name yet) is under supervision from a fairy named Wysandra, who is taking care of his mother, the queen (because she cannot bear to see her son in this form). As a prince, he was once under the care of her sinister aunt Calandra, who was also a fairy. These ideas were lifted from one of the original versions of the tale.
In one of the original "Beauty and the Beast" stories, Beauty (otherwise known as Belle) is visited in her dreams by a mysterious young man, who unbeknownst to her is actually the Beast (this happens while she is staying at his palace).
Belle will also be the name of "Beauty" (which it how it was in the original French version as well).
The Beast has a case of "selective dyslexia," which is a side effect of his curse. He is able to write and read back his writing, but any other written word will be seen as unreadable by him. Also, nobody else will be able to read his handwriting. Therefore, Belle would not be able to read the Beast's diary (to her, his entries would only look like random scribbles).
Most chapters will contain one journal entry. For chapters with more than one entry, the entries will be separated with the letters BBB.
All right, enough background info. Hope you enjoy! (Please review if you have any feedback or criticism!)
Curse myself! Curse everything that's happened to me! But how can I? I'm already cursed. Fine, then, doubly curse me!
It's inevitable—I'm truly turning into a monster. I'm already a monster on the outside, but I'm starting to turn into one on the inside. But I couldn't help it. These roses are the only things that remain of my humanity, of the times when I was still normal and my parents were still living here. How dare someone try to take my roses away from me!
Somehow, though, I still gave him a chance to live. I was so close to slashing his throat for his ingratitude. I was so close to killing him, and yet, my humanity still prevailed. Perhaps this was because he was the first human that I had been in contact with since the fateful curse. Or perhaps the story of his unfortunate circumstances moved me in some way.
How much longer, though, will my humanity prevail? Too long have I written in the pages in this book, trying my best to preserve my humanity (I can only thank Wysandra for altering my paws so that I may pick up a pen—but after all, she was the one who suggested I write). It has been at least a year and a half, and it baffles me that I still am able to write. But what will happen the day I lose my ability? What will happen when I have finally lost my mind—my human mind—and become truly an animal? Then I won't even have the sense to pick up the pen.
I told him to bring one of his daughters to me. I don't even know why. I think I did it out of desperation. I expect him to hold his word, of course—that's how angered I am at him—but I don't expect anyone gorgeous to enter here. And even if the girl is beautiful, can I really expect her to love me?
I gave the man three months before he brought back his daughter. Somehow, though, I have faith that he will return.