<div class="floatright">(http://elliquiy.com/elluiki/images/d/d5/Evilbeast.jpg)</div><strong>The Beast<br/>Location: Prince Adam's Castle<br/>Tags: Belle</strong><br/><br/>When Adam threw the bottle against the wall it exploded, spraying shards of liquor-soaked glass in all directions.  A squeal from the pantry registered Mrs. Potts' fright, and the large wooden cabinet shook as the old bitch tried to get free again.  Her fright, the crying... all of it was making Adam sober.  He couldn't bear being sober again.<br/><br/><em>...we're not safe until he's dead...</em><br/><br/>The villagers were scared.  That morning, after waking in the middle of the wood in tattered rags, Adam had wandered into the community to find taproom.  He'd been forced to drag the old landlord from bed, but no one would deny their Prince a drink, not even when the Prince came calling in rags.  Word of his arrival spread throughout the village, and as he drank they came, begging for his protections from some shadows in the wood.<br/><br/><em>...he'll come stalking us at night...</em><br/><br/>By midday he couldn't drink there anymore.  Their pathetic cries, begging him to slay the monster... it was too much.  Adam had problems of his own, but none of the pissant common folk seemed to care.  No one understood, all they cared for was their squalid little hovels and their dirty little brats.<br/><br/>Prince Adam was on his own, again.<br/><br/>He left the dirty peasants to their mud and squalor, seizing several more bottles of the landlords best brandy before making his way back to the castle.  He couldn't remember the night too well, he couldn't recall how much drank or what had possessed him to go for a hike.  There was no sign of his servants, and that was probably for the best.  He didn't overly want to be seen.  After what his armsman had done... it was best for them that they all stay out of their Prince's path.<br/><br/>It took most of the day, and several bottles, to make it to the castle.  The wood was cold and blustery, all the trees dark and bare as if some malevolent force had sucked the life from the wood.  He pressed on with drunk, wavering steps through the wilderness until he came to the gates of his castle.  High above the castle gate, he saw it.<br/><br/><em>...forced to sacrifice our children to his monstrous appetite...</em><br/><br/>Adam kicked the pantry, roaring in wordless anger until the cook quieted down.  None of it seemed real.  That head, the dried blood, the shocked expression.  Numb fingers fumbled through the remaining bottles, but he found each empty.   The look of the face, so surprised... but no!  It was Lumiere's fault, his own actions had sealed his fate.  But who beheaded the sly bastard?<br/><br/><em>...he'll wreak havoc in our village if we let him wander free...</em><br/><br/>Cogsworth!  Of couse, it had to be trusty old Cogsworth.  It was Cogsworth that told him originally that Belle and Lumiere had been spending so much time together.  Adam instantly felt better, like a great weight had been lifted.  That Cogsworth had gone to far, there could be no doubt.  The display was a little grisly for Adam's castle, but he could not deny that it would send a message.  He laughed and fumbled to door to the panty open, letting plump Mrs. Potts free.  She fell forward, but he caught her and set her straight against the table.  There was something in her eyes.  Fear... she was scared.<br/><br/>“Don't worry, Mrs. Potts.  It was Cogsworth!”<br/><br/>“Co... Cogsworth, sir?” The elderly woman moved back, standing up straight and smothering her fear with her crisp, no nonsense English authority.  “Of course, sir.”<br/><br/>His head swam a bit, and he fell away from the table, gripping the edge of the counter top.<br/><br/>“Whiskey, Mrs. Potts.  Or some of that potato stuff.  You know, from the east.  What do those people call themselves?”<br/><br/>“Cossacks, sir.”  She was backing away.  He shook his head, trying to clear it.  She must be going to fetch the liquor.  Good old Mrs. Potts--<br/><br/>Pain lanced through his back and he jumped forward, screaming and twisting to pull the source of his agony free.  He wrestled with himself, powerful arms twisting until he could grasp the handle of a large kitchen knife and pull it free.  He stared at it, uncomprehending.  Mrs. Potts was backing away again.<br/><br/>“Mrs. Potts?”<br/><br/>Anger replaced the pain, rage taking control of the injury and pushing it to the side.  He dropped the knife and grabbed the counter again as convulsions wracked his body.  He screamed and shook his head, looking out the window to where the moon was just cresting the horizon.<br/><br/>“You dare?” His voice was harsh, deeper than usual.  He was growling.  “You dare?”<br/><br/>Mrs. Potts screamed and fled the kitchen as he doubled over.  Within seconds his body rippled and expanded, sprouting thick golden hair set with course black streaks.  Painful, the transformation took all that was pure and human and twisted it, snapping bones and reknitting them into twisted shapes, ripping the flesh and sinew and replacing it with more powerful knotted muscles.  His thick, furry hide covered the grisly display of power and flesh, wrapping over him until anything resembling a human form was lost.  When the Beast threw back his head and roared, the entire castle shook.<br/><br/>The smell of piss and alcohol infused the air, but he could also smell fear, he could taste the the terror.  The Beast stalked the halls of his castle after his fat cook, and before too long, Lumiere's head had a companion over the castle gate.  As he placed the plump woman's head on the spike, a flash of red caught his eye.  High above, in the soaring towers of his ancient castle, someone had invaded the West Wing.<br/><br/>Someone in a shining yellow gown.<br/><br/>The Beast snarled and jumped, clearing the courtyard and landing on the tiled roof of the great hall.  His powerful legs propelled him through their air, leaping from roof to tower and he climbed his estate.  Impossible leaps carried him the distance in moments, and he slipped into the shadows as she approached the Rose.  It was a beautiful thing, enchanting...<br/><br/>The Beast closed the door to the chamber.  Prince Adam, coward that he was, was too scared to ever take what he truly wanted from Belle, allowing for Lumiere to claim that particular prize instead.  The Beast would not be so weak.  The Beast would take what he wanted.<br/><br/>“The West Wing is forbidden.”  His voice was a low growl, yellow eyes locked on the girl.  “You will pay for your trespass, whore.”