A few chapters of a book I am writing

I wrapped the shawl around me, tight; as the cold winter’s breeze swept up my hair. I stood before the castle, its doors shadowed and uninviting. Snow blanketed its towers and covered its frightening gargoyles, masking their hideousness with the purity of an angel. A face peered down at me from the tallest tower, and I swore I could hear its beckoning whispers. I never stood a chance.
                                                        ~
They used to tell us stories of the evil that lurked within the castle walls. They’d warn us of temptation and how easy it was to cross the line of darkness. That’s the only protection they ever gave us and in doing so, they opened a pathway for the wickedness to slip through. I was only eight when I first experienced the bittersweet taste of what lurked in the shadows.
                                                      ~
Being one of such a young age, I had not a care in the entire world. My days consisted of walks to the pond and hours spent reading. It was a rare occasion that mother would take me to town; for town had become just a mere memory of the past. I’m told it used to be beautiful; that people used to line the streets with bright and cheery smiles, all bowing in respect for their King.
  That was before it happened though, and I, myself, had never seen the face of my supposed ruler and neither had anyone else my age. All we are taught is to stay away from the castle and to keep a wary eye out for those who will sway us in the wrong direction. That was exactly what my mother told me the day we took the small walk to town, “Stay close,” she added, a warning that I took no precaution in heeding. As soon as her attention was elsewhere, I raced away, careful to remain unseen by any passerby.
Breathless, I came to a halt a few feet from the castle’s bordering gates. At least, what used to be the gates, for now all that remained was a pile of rubble and small creek that was once a moat. I gazed at the forbidden fortress with a burning curiosity, longing to know what lay beyond its fractured walls.
I continued like that for quite sometime, so fixated on it that everything else slipped away. Some might say that was why I saw a face; that my mind simply created the illusion of a man. I might’ve agreed, had I not heard its luring whispers.
“Constance,” it seemed to murmur to me, “Come and play.”
I was hypnotized, each step I took forward felt as light as a feather and with each I felt a little bit of my sanity slip away, until I was merely a wind up toy doing as I was bid. Too soon I arrived at the entrance and I heard the heavy thud of the door knocker a second before I realized I was the one who’d lifted it. I suppose I expected the door to open ominously, and then to find myself in a land uncharted to many. However, there was not a sound to be heard on the other side and the door remained firm in its closed position.
“Constance,” was the shrieked whisper I heard next. I spun around, half expecting to see the King right before my very eyes and instead saw mother, who was standing a little past the “gates”, which was about as far as she dare go. “Constance, get over here now!”
Disappointment slid over my bones and hardened into anger. I began to think that the doors would’ve swung open had she not interrupted me. Caught up in childish resentment, I slapped away her hand and stormed past her. The beating I received upon my arrival home was one that only fueled my anger and made me wish for the shadowed king to come and save me, though I had no idea whether he was friend or foe.


I was not allowed to return to town until I was twelve, and by then the memory of that day felt like a mere dream that I’d convinced myself was reality.
The castle still stood in the same place it had four years ago, though it looked a slight smaller; as though the wind that blew against it was like that of a breeze on a sandcastle and again I was intrigued.
“Constance, darling,” my mother fretted, “I will only be a moment in the market. Please do not wander off.”
Once I’d reassured her that I really had no desire to move from the bench on which I was perched, she entered the small gray building that supposedly kept us all fed (though the food was rather questionable.) As soon as the door shut behind her, I was on my feet and walking towards the gateway.
I hesitated, unsure of whether or not to approach the doors again. I glanced to the window and gasped. The man was back, his shadow suggesting he’d become thinner. I squinted at the figure and to my surprise he raised a hand to the glass and peered down at me with a smoldering intensity. I shrank back subconsciously, a growing discomfort settling in my stomach. Quickly, I fled back up the path and thudded down the road, collapsing on the bench just as mother came out.
“My goodness child,” she cried, “Are you quite all right?”
“Oh it is much too hot out mama,” I lied, putting up the pretense of being over heated.
To my pleasure, she then preceded to take me home and lay me down on the bed, eating up my story of how I’d just been caught in a dizzy spell.
Part of me wished she’d figure out where I’d really been, for the secret hurt inside of me. I imagined the secret like a cat with razor sharp claws scratching away at my ability to keep it within me. However, I managed to keep quiet until I was next allowed to take a stroll out to town.
                                                      ~
My growing obsession with the mysterious king prevented any attempts at friendships I might’ve made. By age fourteen, I still had yet to have an outing with anyone or have anyone visit. Mother was very worried, of course, since this could make any offerings of matrimony disappear. I, however, couldn’t have cared less. The shadow king was the only friend I needed; and he visited me quite often in my dreams.
I began to feign sickness; staying home so that I could sleep and spend my hours in his presence. I never imagined that he would harm me, or cause me any sort of pain.

On my sixteenth birthday, I was allowed to go to town for the annual Celebration of The Willows. Our town is known for its weeping willows, each one marking the death of a child stolen away by the King. We had one-hundred and twelve. I helped plant a few of them, whispering words as I did so; words of longing and dread swirling around the makeshift graves. I knew that one day he would take me as well; smothering me in his deadly embrace. He told me so in those dreams. He told me how I would be his Queen; his shadowed Queen. He wouldn’t harm me, he promised, his voice like velvet. On my sixteenth birthday I would come to him, or he would take me by force. That was his promise; though if I think about it, it was more a threat than anything, a very capable threat.
The town was speckled with spirits; moans of unhappiness drifted around like phantoms of depression. It was tradition that we all dress plainly today, out of respect for the King. I stood out from the rest; wearing a bright yellow dress that billowed around me. I was a dandelion in a field of decaying corpses. My dark red cloak shielded me from the wind; the hood protected me from the snow, but nothing saved me from their stares, stares that screamed “Witch” and “Devil’s Child!”
I stood there defiantly, my chin high. My mother smacked my arm, earning a few escaping snickers from a group of girls that passed by. I shot them a wicked glare, making a sign with my hands that meant death to them all. My arm was smacked yet again.
“Hush child!” Her words were drenched in loathing, for even my mother began to doubt my sanity and purity. At that moment, I hated her. The hatred swallowed me whole and I lost sense of reality and my surroundings. It was then that I let out a shrill screech; my body shaking with its intensity. When I finished, my voice dying away, the town was silent.
“That child is tainted!” I turned around to see the priest walking towards me, a cross in his hand. “Let the beast inside of her be banished from this world!”
The town seemed to take in a gasp of anticipation, all of us wondering what would happen. When nothing occurred, he again shouted, “This child is tainted! There for, we must kill it.”
It was then that the world disappeared around me, and I fell into a deep sleep filled with bloody ghouls and haunted memories.

                                                      Chapter 2:

I lay in my bed, its sheets now devoid of any comfort or warmth. People came and went, each saying a silent goodbye that filled my bones with ice. My mother came only twice; once to say farewell, and again to show me the knife that she would plunge into my heart come morning. Each face held a look of disgust and shallow sadness. They did not like to see one of their own “befallen to darkness”; but they hadn’t considered me one of them from the very beginning. I was a stranger to them, something dangerous. Despite all of it, I promised myself I wouldn’t die. The shadow king would save me. All I had to do was-
The door opened, jolting me from my thoughts. It was my mother, holding a cross and a bottle of what I assumed was holy water.
“Momma, I’m scared,” I whimpered, wanting her to hold and reassure me.
“You are not my daughter you demon,” she hissed and threw the contents of the bottle upon me. I was drenched, cold; but not burning from its contact. I was not a demon.
“See mommy? I’m normal!” I begged her to see reason, to save me from death.
“I am not your mother,” she screamed, hurling the cross at me and fleeing from my room. It hit my head, hard, and I fell into a wild fit of dreams.
                                                              ~
The Shadow King stood before me, a misty figure of whom I could not see clearly. He never was really visible in my dreams.
“You are hurt,” he exclaimed, his voice angry.
“Not really.” I hurried to fill him in, anxious that he not take his anger out on those that I loved; that I still loved.
“I shall kill them all.” I started to protest, desperation pouring from my sweaty skin. “Shut up,” he commanded, a force knocking me to the ground.
Never before had he caused me pain. I was truly frightened.
“My apologies,” he whispered, as the dream whirled away and left me alone in my mind.
                                                    ~
The sun was barely peeking from the edge of the sky when they came for me, cloaked and masked so that I would not harm them if I chose to lash out. However, I stayed perfectly still; my eyes closed so that the tears would not fall.
“Ladies and gentlemen, boys and girls,” spoke a voice from somewhere to my left, the tone pleased and excited “Let the punishment begin!” It was not to be a quick and relatively painless death like I’d thought. It was to be torture.
First were the young children, rocks and broken glass in their gloved hands. Their aim left something to be desired, so only a few hit me and then not with much force. It was when a little girl, of only five or six, came to me with a long shard of glass that I began to realize how cruel these people could be.
It went deep into my cheek, blood pooling on the snowy ground beneath me. Had I not been in this sort of predicament, I might’ve sat down and painted the contrasting colors.
The next to come were people my age, their faces greedy with the thought of making me suffer. They held knives and hammers. I began to shake.
A hammer struck me in the knee first, jolting my body with a pain so unreal; it made my heart bang against my chest. I squeezed my eyes shut, my body numb from shock. The only thing telling me when I was hit was the laughter that erupted after each strike.
When the crowd fell quiet, I opened my eyes and surveyed my body. Knives jutted out from my legs, blood poured from my stomach, and a fork was lodged into my forehead. I had failed surely, for death couldn’t be much farther away at this point.
Then… he saved me.
A blinding light drenched the town, momentarily impairing everyone’s vision, except my own. Without any real sense of direction, I began to run. How I could still run was far beyond my knowledge; and I wasn’t surprised at all when I found myself at the castle doors, since it seemed fitting that I would find myself at what I’d always truly considered my home.
Wasting no time at all, I threw myself at the doors and screamed, “Let me in!”
And so he did.

                                                      Chapter 3:

That is my story; or at least the beginning. I keep thinking to myself, “I’m dead. I must be. This cannot actually be happening.”
I am in the lair of what my town thinks to be a beast; a King gone astray. What am I to think? Here I lay, in a room fit for a Queen. Yet, I do not feel any fear. My wounds are cleaned, my body has been stripped of any pain, and I feel perfectly at ease. What beast, what monster would harm someone that he’s taken such good care of? Perhaps I am too naïve; but I think this is the only time in my life that I have ever felt… safe.
A small box sits on the table next to me, its color a dark red (velvet?) Hesitantly, I reach for it, half expecting to jolt from this dream at its touch. I set it in my lap and lift the lid ever so gently. Enveloped in silk, a beautiful necklace lay inside; a dark red ruby lined in black satin on a silver chain.
“How extraordinary,” I gasp, tracing it with the tips of my fingers. I stand, my legs a little wobbly, and walk to the mirror across the room. After a little fumbling, I clasp it and step back to admire it. It resembles the blood on the snowy ground; a red ruby against ivory skin. 
I turn from the sight, not wanting to remember what seemed like a lifetime ago. It is stifling in here, I realize, beginning to search for some sort of window.
“You won’t find one,” I whirl around, a small scream escapes my lips. “A window, I mean.”
There is a girl in the doorway, about ten or twelve years of age. There’s something familiar about her; as if I’d seen her before in my life.
“Aliana?” She nods slightly with a smile that looked neither happy nor sad. She was from my town, kidnapped only a few years ago.
“What shall we dress you in for dinner?” She crosses the room and opens a dresser, examining its contents.
“Dinner,” I squeak, my palms sweating. “With… with the king?”
“Of course,” she replies, holding out a particularly hideous dress with a frown, “Who else would you dine with?”
“You?”
“Oh don’t be silly! I am but a mere servant. You are his most honored guest.”
“We thought you to be dead,” I blurt. She pauses.
“Not dead,” she says with a small laugh, “But I’m not sure if I’m alive anymore.”
I start to ask why; but she raised her finger to her lips and says, “Even the walls have ears. Surely you must realize that by now.”
                                                          ~

I am wearing a gorgeous dress; with a lacy red bodice and a black ruffled skirt. The ruby rests at my throat; and with the help of Aliana, my auburn hair is twisted into something of a masterpiece. She tells me I look beautiful; that she imagines the Shadow King would think I look good enough to eat. Suddenly, I feel very nervous. “This is as far as I may go,” she whispers when we reached a spiral staircase, “May God be with you.”
  He is waiting for me at the end, his figure no longer clouded by the shadows. The sight of him steals my breath away; and I gape at him with wonder. He has hair dark as a night sky and blue eyes that bear hardships unknown to mankind.
“Good evening,” he says, his voice as rich and alluring as it was in my dreams. I am speechless as he gazes at me with an expression I can’t begin to comprehend. Taking a step towards me, he bows and raises his arm out to me. Remembering manners I had not learned, I curtsy and close the space between us, taking his arm.
“Shall we eat?” His eyes seem to search mine; looking for something that I hadn’t the slightest clue I possessed. It was strange; stranger even that he looks at me as if I am the rare and priceless object, though surely he must’ve known that it is he who was that and not I.
We sit at a rather long table covered in pots and pans filled with foods that make my mouth water. I pick up a serving spoon, my stomach growling, and begin to scoop some scrumptious looking potatoes onto a china plate.
“Stop,” he orders, snatching the spoon from my hand and sending a glob of potatoes onto the floor. “The servants with serve you.”
“Oh.” I set the plate down and back away, sitting in a chair at the end of the table. He takes the chair opposite of me and the feast begins.
Servants come pouring in, slopping little bits of everything on my plate. There is baked duck and caviar, apple turnovers and blueberry pie. Everything I’d ever wanted to eat, and even things I never knew existed; all laid out before my very eyes.
“Does it look pleasing?” I glance up from the marvelous meal to see him peering at me with a yearning for approval.
“Delicious,” I reply, popping a cracker with caviar into my mouth. The rest of dinner is spent in silence; the sounds of chewing and servants scurrying, the only noise to be heard.
When I finish eating, I dare a glance at the King. He too is done and looks at me with curiosity.
“What?” I wipe my mouth consciously.
“You are so…” he trails off.
“So?” I lean forward.
“Never mind… May I show you something?”
He stands and walks over to me, holding his hand out. I take his hand and together we walk through the maze – like castle.
                                                       
                                                    Chapter 4:

He leads me to a small room covered in shrouded windows. Pulling back the curtains on one every so slightly, he says, “Look.”
I do so obediently and gasp at the sight. The view was of the front of the castle, looking out into the town I once called my own. There sat my mother, dressed in all black, at the castle gates; weeping into a white handkerchief. Even after all she’d down to me, a sharp pain slices through my soul; a single tear of my own sliding down my cheek and the King catches it with his finger.
“Do you miss her,” he asks; his voice thick with emotions I do not understand.
“A little,” I reply, “But I am glad to be away from those horrid people.” I turn to face him. “Why did you bring me here?”
“Another time m-.” His words cut off and he says rather harshly, “Go to your room. I have no desire to see your face anymore.”
Disappointment floods over me, and I quickly flee the room; the servants hurrying to aid me. Of course…I was nothing but a mere peasant to such a king; such a wondrous, extraordinary, striking king.
I fall asleep quite easily, drenched in hopeless desire.
                                                                ~
“Constance,” a voice was saying, “Constance, can you see me?”
I was dreaming; for the boy in front of me was from my village, and that had left me long ago. Or had I left it?
“Constance?”  Sebastian looks at me with worry.
“Yes. Yes I can see you,” I answer, “Why are you here? Am I dreaming?”
“In a sense…I visited Martha and she helped me do this.” Martha was the town witch; a fact known by only a few people.
“I- I don’t understand,” I stutter.
“I know; and that’s fine. But before I have to go, I must tell you something.” His voice is growing distant.
“What?”
“Do not trust the King! He is a wicked man and he only wants to hurt you!”
I laugh, “Why would he want to hurt me? I think he loves me.”
  He sighs, frustration leaking from his voice, “That’s not real love! Real love is what God feels for you, what I feel for you, what your mother feels for you.”
“You- You love me?”
He blushes, “Well… yeah.”
“You never told me.”
“I was too afraid… I thought you to be indifferent.” Truthfully, I was; but as I gaze at him, I saw something I’d never seen before. Purity. Light.
“Good morning Constance.” He fades away, leaving me in reality.
It is morning; I can tell by the small stream of light escaping the curtains.
“Good dreams?” I gasp and jerk around, my neck hurting from the sharp, sudden movement. Aliana is perched on the desk, a smirk on her face.
“I’m sorry?” I act confused. The smirk becomes a grin.
“You talk in your sleep. Did you know that?”
“Ummm…”
“So whooo loves you?” Her tone is teasing; but I catch an under layer of concern.
“Just a dream, obviously. Have you forgotten your place?” I attempt a haughty air. She quits smiling and hands me a book.
“Master thought you might enjoy this. Good day my lady.” She exits the room; sadness radiating off of her thick as smoke. It was Beauty and The Beast. How fitting.
I go to the love seat in the far end of the room and sit down, opening to the first page. It shows a man and his three daughters; all of whom look very happy together.
Hurriedly I flip to the next page, not wanting to see any happy families. As I read the book, I can’t help but compare it to my own situation. Would this Beast let me return to the town? Did I want to?
When I get to the part where Beauty confesses her love for the Beast, I hastily close the book; overwhelmed. Standing up, I cross the room and admire the pretty dress that lay on a chair in the corner. Aliana must’ve laid it out for me, I think with a pang of guilt.
“But how will I put it on,” I wonder out loud.
“I will help you,” says a voice from behind me. It is another girl from the village, one that’d been only three when she was stolen.
“Amanida.” I smile. She was Martha’s daughter. “Where is Aliana?”
“Oh…” she says, looking a tad uncomfortable, “She requested not to serve you anymore.”
“You’re lying.” I’ve always possessed the talent of knowing when someone is being untruthful.
“I’m not supposed to speak of it.” She starts to back away.
“Please,” I blurt, “Tell me!”
She sighs and murmurs, “The King has sent her to the dungeons.”
“Why?” I am shouting now, anger twisting and twirling inside my head.
“Please, I know no more.” She then instructs me to step into my dress and that was all she would say on the matter.
                                                            ~
As the days pass, I keep quiet about Amanida’s piece of information; afraid that she might get in trouble. However, there were no chances to confess my knowledge to the King anyways; as he instructed I stay in my room all day and dine alone. Sebastian no longer appeared in my dreams; which confirmed my beliefs that it was all in my head. I am filled with a heart aching loneliness, rereading Beauty and The Beast to try and reassure myself that I’d find some sort of happy ending to this nightmare.
Finally, when I could bear the solitude no longer, I crack open my door and peer out. No one is there. With light steps, I venture out into the hallway; my heart thudding against my breast with every second that ticks by. When I hear Amanida coming up a flight of stairs, I throw open a door at random and dart inside.
                                                              ~
There is the most beautiful music filling the air; waltzing around me. It seemed to flutter about like the wings of a monarch butterfly. I close my eyes and breathe in the notes, the music sprinkling down my spine. The most glorious sensation comes over me, and a sigh of content escapes me.
When I open my eyes, the King stands before me; his hand outstretched. What could I do but take it? What could I do except fold into his arms and allow him to twirl me around the dance floor? I am lost to the world the moment his arms wrapped around me. 
“My Queen,” he murmurs, “You shall be my Queen.” His gaze sends shivers throughout my body; his hands press against my waist, warm and inviting.
“Your Queen,” I repeat, feeling as if I was in some sort of trance.
He spins me around the room until I grow dizzy and my knees become wobbly. When we pause, he twists a lock of my hair around his finger and whispers, “I feel the most unusual sense when I am around you. Almost as if I am filled with… light.” He says the last word with disgust.
“Allow me to brighten your dark soul,” I plead softly, “Let me ease your burdens.”
“You sweet girl. You sweet, naïve, persuasive woman.” He sighs, pulling away. “Goodnight.”
Once more, the world fades away.
                                                                ~
I am in a field, a field of lilies. A boy stands a few feet away, his shoulders sagging and his head in his hands.
“Sebastian,” I called out, “Why on Earth are you crying?”
His head whips around and he cries out, “Constance!”
“What?” He runs towards me and hugs me tight, his body shaking with tears. It does not escape my notice how he strokes my lower back so intimately; and I am sure it does not escape his that I arch into him, my body liking his touch.
Hastily I pull away. “Why are you crying,” I repeat.
“Martha and I have been trying to reach you for days. We feared you’d been killed.” His voice is soaked in lingering despair.
I put my hand on his shoulder, “It is okay. I promise. I am here and nothing will harm me. The King is not as bad as you think.” His expression darkens.
“The King is a bad man. He kidnaps little children Constance! You expect me to believe he does that out of kindness?”
“It’s a lot better than staying in that dump of a town,” I snap, “And would you shut up about him being a ‘bad man’?”
“What the hell has he done to you?”
Anger washes over me. “He hasn’t done anything I haven’t wanted him to do.”
“Has he made any advances towards you?”
I blush, “No! Well…Kind of. It’s all just so…magical.” I hear my voice go all dreamy, but I hardly care.
“Constance,” he says, “Listen to me. It’s a trick. You’ve got to believe me! He wants nothing more than to take your soul like the rest of them.”
“Goodbye Sebastian,” I step away, “For good.”
                                                   
                                                          Chapter Five:
“My King?” I am perched on the arm of his chair, listening to him read Beauty and The Beast.
“Yes?” He closes the book and looks up at me, his once haunted eyes now speckled with flakes of light.
“I’ve heard a secret…whispered by the servants.” I try to be vague, averting my eyes from his.
He places his hand under my chin, forcing me to look at him. “Tell me,” he says, his tone gentle but firm. I bite my lip; afraid that if I tell him, he will punish Amanida.
“Tell me,” he repeats with more force.
“They say you have Aliana locked in the dungeon,” I whisper.