The Prices of Possessiveness: Beauty and the Beast.

Snow cascaded down upon the open fields surrounding the abandoned and eerie castle, each flake tentatively tumbling and awkwardly dripping onto the old stone and grass. Then in a hastening host, a whole brief army falls, white militia plummeting out of the close sky over various textures, making them one.

The snow is a gift-wrap only spring will open, revealing the engrained beauty that lives safely below, protected from these long winter months.

And as the substance turned everything into fresh blank pages, ready to be imprinted, the inhabitants of the castle reminisced on old times, for the snow was a harbinger of numerous memories and instances, some buoyant while others were pitifully blue.

The young prince's memories were the latter as he stared out of the ballroom's window, awaiting his beloved Belle.

Tonight was when he would ask her to stay.

Life had been nothing but a fall down the rabbit hole after the witch's spell, yet for once he felt like he could make it out, that the sinking feeling would fade and his Belle would be his wings to recovery. He never thought someone could love a beast like him but over the past week, the beautiful damsel had suppressed his doubts.

They waltzed around the ballroom, a serene melody playing around them. He had dressed up in his finest navy-blue suit while a yellow ballgown had been entrusted upon her by the talking wardrobe.

The dance wasn't very complicated, consisting of a box step and a few twirls and dips, yet both parties seemed entranced, their minds running a mile a minute. Unbeknownst to the beast, Belle would ask him for the one thing he couldn't give her, the one thing that would change his heart to that of stone.

"I want to visit my father; it'll only be a few days but I need to know he's doing well. I hope you understand and permit me to go, I'll return of course."

Belle muttered, pulling away slightly to glance at his face contouring into rage and sadness.

"Do you think I'm a fool as to let a prisoner leave?"

He snarled, shoving Belle away cautiously as to not harm her. A glare overcame her features, after all of their wonderful encounters she had come to think of him as a friend, someone who would understand her needs.

"Please, I promise to come back, you can even send someone with me! My father is an old man currently alone at home, I need to know he's taking care of himself."

She pleaded once again, hoping to make him give in. His eyes softened for a second, and she believed he would, but then he turned away and started ascending the steps.

"I am sorry, but I can't. You can use the mirror to see him, you've done it before!"

His offer fell on deaf ears as Belle ran towards her room, deciding on escaping once and for all. How could she be foolish enough to think of him as anything but a monster? Of course, he wanted her to be trapped in here with him!

Clothes of all sizes, shades and materials were torn into long pieces of fabric and tied into a rope. Her idea was risky and had a high chance of ending with her falling to her death, but there was no way she could sneak out of the room and castle unnoticed.

After hours of binding together each piece of clothing Belle had finally made a rope long and stable enough to be used.

Quiet as a mouse she tossed the rope out the window, her delicate form soon descending it. Her feet were scratched and a little bloody due to the harsh stone, her hands were worn and trembled with each step, causing her to stop at each windowsill below her for a breather.

All was well until she decided to skip the last window, thinking she could make it down the seven feet with ease.

Oh, how wrong she was to overestimate her strength, for a mere second after she had thought it, her petite frame came tumbling down the side, a yelp escaping her mouth.

Crash!

The sound resonated throughout the backyard, a feeling of dread settling into Belle's stomach as two sets of windows opened up above her. She lazily got onto her hands and knees before standing up on wobbly feet.

The beast's head was poked out of his bedroom window, his face a paragon of despair and frustration. A roar cut through the night as he ran out of his room, descending the stairs in a frenzy.

Belle ran as quick as her legs could take her, the forest trees looming over her, tiny pools of blood forming on the trees and snow due to the various cuts on her arms and feet.

Her feet made tiny sounds as they ran out of the backyard and eventually through the front gate, pushing the image of his (figuratively) broken face out of her head.

A foul look overcame his features as he rampantly chased after her, looking ready to commit genocide. Belle was the only thing he held dear, and he would not let her get away from him.

Tiny delicate footprints were replaced with huge animalistic ones as she tried to shake off her pursuer, her mind stuck on rejoining civilisation. She was as fast as lightning! He wouldn't catch her; he was too far behind. Y

et once again her thoughts seemed to jinx her as the soft yellow material of her dress was tugged backwards, the beast not anticipating her body to come flinging back with it.

They had ended up in a clearing, the harsh tug causing Belle to fall onto the snow as the beast towered over her. Not wanting to be left at a disadvantage, she got up and faced her capturer.

He was extremely angry, that was clear enough, yet she would never in a million years expect him to lash out at her and claw her abdomen.

At times the prince would forget about his beastly appearance, thinking of himself as the prince he used to be. Yet this moment wasn't like that, a strange possessive haze clouded his mind the phrase 'if I can't have her, no one will' repeating in his head and causing the sudden act of fury. He only realised how hard he had struck her when her body once again tumbled onto the snow.

Belle pressed her palms against the mangled flesh, she once heard you were supposed to stop bleeding by putting pressure on wounds. But, oh, there was so much blood - dark crimson, with a discreet, metallic scent flowing across her body.

It cascaded across her skin; the pungent metallic smell alarmingly strong. And even though pain fluctuated on her face, she smiled at her trembling beast, mumbling profanities.

Against the pristine snow, the blood trail was stark. Small droplets had tumbled and spread into the white making arcs of scarlet. Gaston looked down at the footprints, surprised at the lack of footwear.

His mind took the evidence and recreated a picture, a girl or a small man with injuries to their arms, blood flying outward from flailing limbs, moving the way panicked people do, quickly, stumbling, with frequent turns to check for their attacker.

They must've gotten some more severe injuries causing the drops to be more prevalent. As the town's self-proclaimed protector, it was his duty to help anyone in distress, especially someone with injuries wandering the woods.

So, he followed the trail, not expecting to find the girl he had pined after for years lying in a pool of her blood with a ghastly beast towering over her. The beast's claws were raked with her blood, the drops dripping onto her form as he no doubt searched for an organ to swallow.

A nasty snarl came over his face as he lifted his hunting rifle, thinking of all the praise he'd receive from the townsmen when he dragged both of their bodies back.

The beast was too busy mourning her death to notice the shower of bullets approaching him, a growl escaping him as they pierced his abdomen and heart. It took quite a few rounds of bullets for him to finally fall over, and another few to ensure he was dead.

Gaston lifted Belle's body over his shoulder and hauled the beast's form behind him, creating new streaks of blood on the snow.

As he reached the town people surrounded his form, gasping, whispering and cheering on their hero.

An old man, Belle's father, ran out to question the commotion and screamed at the sight of his daughter's mangled corpse lying in the town square. The crowd parted to let him mourn her death and clutch her corpse.

A mix of relief and sorrow clouded each person's faces, some mourning the beautiful Belle and others happy for evading the beast, none aware of the events that transpired between the two lost souls, their private tales lost in time