Practice Writing A-6: Beauty of the Beast

Writing Practice(s): File A-6 Date Published: 11:21, 11 March 2013 (Minnesota Time) Category: Romance/Drama/Suspense Title: Beauty of the Beast

Writing Practice(s): File A-6

Category: Romance/Drama/Suspense

Title: Beauty of the Beast

 

      Alice snapped a picture of the ancient tapestry and smiled up at it. It was a beautiful piece of colorful cloth with gold thread embroidering the ridge and scarlet thread for the outer rim and in the center of the whole thing was a very large and extraordinary depiction of a knight fighting against a terrible-looking dragon with lavender and emerald fire and horrible yellow eyes.

      Amazing. Speculated Alice as she stared up at the tapestry in wonderful awe. How someone could create such an elaborate piece of art from just a needle and thread and all by hand was beyond her.

      “Alice!” the dark brown haired girl turned her head in response to the voice that had called her name, the surprise evident in her pale blue eyes.

      “Hey Alice! Come ‘on! I found this really cool painting I think you’d like!” exclaimed a skinny boy with limp brown hair and wearing baggy clothes much too big for him.

      Alice smiled. “Coming Ted! I’ll be right there!” Alice snapped one last picture of the dragon and the knight tapestry and hurried after her friend.

      They raced past tourists wearing sandals and taking pictures of old sculptures and fountains and tapestries and ancient and elaborate masonry that made up the stone walls and tall statues that held up the ceiling of the olden castle.

      Ted led her down a long chamber held up by tall statues of angels that appeared to be struggling to support the stone chamber and down a long winding staircase into the lower floors of the castle, narrowly dodging a mother and her three small children on the way down. Ted jumped off the bottom step and onto the floor, his footstep echoing throughout the chamber.

      Alice stopped close behind him and gasped at the beauty of the room. Lining the walls were cherry wood book shelves over-flowing with classic novels and diverse studies and the like, while exotic animal skins hung on the walls and were sprawled across the floor along with dented pieces of knights’ armor and shields hung up around the medieval library. A lone velvet armchair with a wolf skin draped over the top stood before a grand fireplace with a roaring flame that reminded Alice of dragon fire. She could swear she could almost see the terrible lizard roaring from the flames and flying out from the fireplace in full glory of its magnificent splendor and horrible power, licking the air with its crimson and emerald inferno, the sound of its roar deafening.

      Alice smiled brightly at all of this and twirled around to better look at all the fascinating objects in the dusty chamber. Most girls found pleasure and enjoyment from a cute boy or makeup or in a magazine or some new fashion trend, but not Alice. She found tremendous joy and exhilaration in old ruins and ancient fairy tales and crumbling castles and dusty libraries, like this one. It felt as if a bombardment of butterflies were swarming inside her stomach, making it almost impossible not to smile glee.

      “Ted, this is amazing!” she turned to her skinny friend and beamed brightly.

      “Oh, this isn’t what I wanted to show you,” he pointed above the fireplace at a faded painting. “That’s what I wanted to show you,”

      Alice turned her head and gasped in disbelief. It was a gorgeously painted picture of a woman in a scarlet dress with very long dark brown hair that reached down to her lower waist with newly blossomed lilies and roses strung throughout her silky, flowing locks. Around her neck she swore a diamond necklace with a small baby wolf with emerald studded eyes hanging off of it like a charm, and very fair skin, without a blemish or wrinkle or scar to be seen. But what intrigued Alice the most was her pale blue eyes, so clear they could have been made of glass and you would be able to see inside of her and look straight into her soul. She was very beautiful and appeared to be about the age of sixteen, but looked like someone who would be very mature for her age.

      “Wow,” Alice breathed. She slowly stepped up towards the painting, as if transfixed by the mesmerizing portrait. She stopped four feet away from the fireplace and turned back to her friend.

      “Who is she?”

      “She’s the Lady Mac Tíre, legend has it she was once a duchess who fell in love with a young aristocrat, but the two were forbidden to see each other, so they snuck out every new moon and met each other deep in the forest. But one night her lover asked her to come early and meet him during the full moon, and she agreed. And according to legend he turned into some horrible monster and tried to attack her, and she narrowly escaped. But instead her lover destroyed the town they had lived in and was killed when a villager threw a torch on him and he burned to death. When she found out what had happened to her lover she went into a long mourning and committed suicide during the next new moon because a life without her lover was no life at all,”

      “Wow, that’s amazing! I wonder how much of it is true.”

      Ted shrugged. “I dunno,”

      “Very good, young man, but you got a few parts mixed up,”

      The two children screamed in surprise, nearing falling to the floor and knocking the owner of voice down as well.

      “Oh!” she cackled joyfully for a moment before turning and smiling at the two frightened children. “I’m terribly sorry, my dears, I didn’t mean to startle you,”

      “W-Who are you?” inquired Ted, holding his arms out in defense of his female friend. Alice groaned and rolled her pale blue eyes and stepped out from behind her skinny companion, extending her hand out in greeting to the old woman. “Hi, I’m Alice; sorry we almost knocked you over,”

      “Oh, my dear, it’s no trouble, I shouldn’t have snuck up on you like that. My name is Maria, and who is this little friend of yours?” she pointed a shaking, wrinkled finger at Ted and in return he wrinkled his noise and stared at her with a mixture of confusion and disgust.

      Alice glared at him when she saw what he was doing and he stopped and looked down at his worn-out sneakers.

      “That’s my friend, Ted; we’re here exploring the ruins,”

      “Well, it’s certainly is refreshing to see young people taking an interest in art and history, but young man,” she turned to Ted. “You did a good job remembering much of the story, but the Lady Mac Tíre never committed suicide and her lover was not burned to death by an angry villager,”

      “He wasn’t?”

      “No, you got the first part of the story correct, but the way they died was incorrect,” she turned to the painting and smiled.

      “You see, Lady Mac Tíre never committed suicide, and her lover never attacked her or was burned to death in battle. Rather, during the full moon, the young aristocrat had been sentenced to forty years in prison for a secret crime and he wished to see his love one more time before he was hauled away. So they met during the full moon and the young aristocrat wanted his love to see him for what he really was, but he could only show it during the full moon, and he transformed into a hideous beast before he eyes and begged her to stay but she was so frightened she so heart-broken at the sight of her handsome lover becoming such a revolting monster was too much for her and she ran away from him. The young aristocrat was devastated, but refused to give up his love that easily, so he chased after her and followed her back to the village in which they had both lived in and the townspeople upon seeing him chasing after the girl, mobbed him with torches and pitchforks and nearly killed him and certainly would have if his lover hadn’t jumped in front of him and stopped the attacking mob. She told him to run back into the forest and never return if he truly loved her, and he reluctantly agreed. But just as he was limping back into the safety of the shadows and away from the mob and the one he loved, a lone villager shot at him and would have killed him if his lover hadn’t jumped in the way of the bullet, saving his life, but taking her own,”

      “Oh my,” breathed Alice in awe. She could almost hear the sound of the gunshot and the screams of the angry villagers and the anguished cry of the beastly lover.

      “Yes, indeed. The aristocrat knelt down beside his dead lover and clutched her limp body in his arms. She had died the moment the bullet was shot into her chest. The aristocrat held her limp body in his arms and something within him snapped and he laid waste to the village and many of the villagers for taking his love away from him.

      “When he had obliterated the town and went back to bury his love, her body was gone without a trace. He searched for her high and low but he could not find her, and just before dawn and when the sun rose he became human again. But it wasn’t but a few minutes after the sun had risen that the authorities came and led him away to prison. He was then sentenced to be burned at the stake for the deaths of the villagers and the destruction of the town,”

      “Whoa...” murmured Alice in wonder.

      “So, he was burned alive? And technically, the Lady Mac Tíre did commit suicide when she jumped in front of that bullet to save the aristocrat,”

      “Ah, but it was how these events occurred that you got incorrect, my dear,” she sighed and stared up at the painting and smiled. “She did it because she loved him too much to let him be killed at the hands of a frightened and foolish villager,”

      “Wow, it truly is amazing. I mean, the sacrifice, the deep and moving love, the sorrow and grief and loss, all of it is truly amazing!” breathed Alice in amazement, hardly able to contain her excitement about the wonderful legend of such a deep and resonating love.

      “Oh my,” mumbled Maria.

      “What?” inquired Alice, turning to Maria in surprise.

      “You look remarkably like the Lady Mac Tíre, my dear,”

      “Really?” she stole another glance back up at the painting and examined its features and figure and her eyes.

      “Huh, I suppose I do,”

      “You’d best be careful, my dear. Some say that the young aristocrat still haunts this place in the form of that horrible monstrosity, still searching for the body of his long lost love so that he my bury her properly,”

      Alice laughed (though it seemed a bit forced and nervous.) “I’m not too worried about some old legend coming back to haunt me,”

      The old lady chuckled. “Of course not, my dear. It’s just an old legend,”

      “Of course, just an old legend...”

*****

      “OK, so let’s see, the Legend of the Mac Tíre Lovers...” mumbled Alice as she typed away on her laptop.

      They had left the Mac Tíre ruins several hours ago and returned to their hotel room for the night. The memory of the enticing lovers’ tale still rung clearly in her mind as she pictured the horrible and bittersweet story of the young aristocrat and the young duchess. It was all too easy to image the aristocrat becoming the beast and the duchess jumping into front of the bullet and her lovers grasping her limp body in his arms and laying waste to the town and people responsible for her sudden death, and the authorizes finally coming to drag him away in chains to be burned at the stake.

      “Ah! Here it is, the Legend of the Mac Tíre Lovers,” she clicked a link that brought her to a website telling and illustrating the tragic tale of the forbidden lovers.

 

It began with a gentle moonlit breeze

Catching the rose petals of an enchanting duchess

Eyes were locked

It was love at first sight.

But their love was forbidden,

They could not be one.

They defied the word of their betters

And met in secret,

Under the shadows of the black moon

Beneath the branches of a dying sycamore.

Each and every dark moon they met

Lurking in the shadows

Reuniting with one another in secrecy

With the darkness and the sycamore as their only witnesses to their treachery.

But the blood of saints and the horrible stench of the aristocrat’s crimes lay heavy in the in nightly breeze.

The threat of chains and an everlasting inferno were upon him

So he wrote in the dark of night to his love

That she might meet him in the light of the silver moon

A moon without blackness to hide their deception.

And beneath the silver moon they met

And in the light of the silver moon the aristocrat was no longer of human flesh or human blood,

He was of that of a demonic being,

An abomination, a horrendous monstrosity.

She left him in the shadows,

But he perused her,

In pursuit of his deep, resonating love.

The foolish villagers mobbed him when he came into the torchlight

Had it not been for his lover he surely would have been slaughtered.

He was cast off by her request

Never to be seen or heard from again.

A sound like that of raucous thunder rang out

A silver lightning bolt split the nightly veil in two

And pierced the young and innocent heart of the duchess by fateful mistake.

The beast cried out in agony and torturous grief,

His love was dead!

Never to walk again!

Neigh, never to be his again!

He laid waste to town and to the murderers that had taken his love from him

He burned it to the ground

And split every last drop of blood from every villager onto the soil.

Only to be washed away by the bombarding rain.

Then, he remembered his fallen love

And went back to bury her properly,

But she was not there.

Vanished.

Like a ghost into the fog at dusk.

As the sun rose he become of human flesh and human blood once again,

But he had little time to grieve over the loss of his love

Before he was led away in manacles

To be set ablaze for his unspeakable crimes.

He was lit as if a torch within the town square

His soul forgotten and forever wondering the earth

In search of the love he lost

Never to be found again.

 

      It was a beautiful poem, and over all explained the story of the Mac Tíre Lovers, but it seemed to miss the pure passion and tragedy of their bittersweet love and horrible demises.

      “Oh well, I suppose you can’t have everything,” speculated Alice as she took another sip from her half-empty bottle of coke and glanced at the clock on her nightstand.

      She sighed and powered down her laptop and set in on the floor. It was past midnight, probably should get some sleep.

      Alice laid her weary head on her pillow, with tale of the Mac Tíre Lovers still fresh in her mind, eventually drifted off to sleep.

*****

      “But Marisa-!”

      “No! How could you keep this from me?”

      “I didn’t know what you’d think! Marisa, I love you! I don’t want to lose you!”

      “I’m sorry, Taylor, I have to go,”

      “Go where?”

      “Home!”

      “But Marisa, please-!”

      “NO! Stay away from me, you, you, MONSTER!”

      “Marisa, please!”

      “Get away from me!”

      “No, no, you said we’d always be together! You said you’d always love me!”

      “I do love you, Taylor,”

      “Then why won’t you stay?”

      “Because of what you’ve become!”

      “No, no! I’m not a monster!”

      “You murdered innocent men!”

      “I-I didn’t mean to-!”

      “Taylor, stop running, just turn yourself in,”

      “B-B-But-no, no, no, no, no, no, you don’t understand Marisa, they’ll kill me if they catch me! Please!”

      “If you really love me you’ll turn yourself in!”

      “No, no Marisa, don’t make me do that, please, they’ll burn me at the stake, no please! You can’t let them take me!”

      “If you must die to become the Taylor I once came to love, then so be it!”

      “Marisa, no!”

      “I’ll turn you in myself if I have to!”

      “Marisa, please no!”

      “I have to, Taylor, I love you, and I cannot stand to watch you become a monster...”

      “No! Marisa, come back!”

      “Taylor, either you stay here while I go get the authorities or you come with me!”

      “Marisa, don’t leave me,”

      “Then come here,”

      “Thank you...”

      “Don’t thank me yet, hold out your wrists,”

      “W-What?”

      “Hold them out! I’m taking you to the authorities right now!”

      “Please, Marisa, don’t do this to me,”

      “Hold them out!”

      “Of course, my love...”

      “Now hold still,”

      “Ow, not so tight...”

      “Quit your whining, the guards will be much rougher with you than I am,”

      “Marisa, please reconsider...”

      “No, I will not watch you continue to become this, this, monstrosity you are turning yourself into, my decision is final,”

      “Alright, but if this is the last time I will see you, may I steal a kiss?”

      “Taylor...”

      “Please, if you must take me away may I not hold onto the memory of your wonderful kindness and everlasting love? I cannot bear to be led away in chains without knowing you still care for me!”

      “Taylor, I will always love you, but this needs to be done,”

      “Then please, grant me the pleasure of one last final kiss,”

      “Alright, but then you’re going straight to the authorities,”

      “Of course, my love, of course,”

      “Taylor,”

      “Yes, dear?”

      “I just want you to know that I will always love you, no matter what, I wouldn’t do this if I didn’t care for you,”

      “I know, you’re just doing what must be done...”

      “I will write to you if I can, and if possible even come and visit you,”

      “Nothing would bring me greater joy than if a chorus of angels came and sang for me,”

      “I love you,”

      “I love you too, my love, more than you’ll ever know...”

*****

      “NO!”

      “What?! The girl got in the way! Foolish child! What was she thinking?”

      “NOOOOOO!!! You killed her! MURDERER!!! You killed her! You KILLED HER!!”

      “Enough of this, you’re coming with us, scum,”

      “NO! They killed her! They killed her...”

      “You didn’t deserve her anyway, now move it, there’s a cell with your name on back in town,”

      “NOOOO!! They killed her! They killed her! They KILLED HER!!”

      “Hey, take it easy now-“

      “They. KILLED. HER!!!”

      “Whoa! Look ou-“

*****

      “Marisa? Marisa, I’ve come back for you, my love, where are yo-? Where is she? She was right here when I left her...No, NO!! No! No! No! NO! I should have never left her alone! MARISA!! WHERE ARE YOU?! MARISA!!!”

*****

      “No, no, please!”

      “Quiet, scum!”

      “No, no, you don’t understand, Marisa-“

      “Is dead, now shut up and face your fate like a man,”

      “Mr. Taylor Giddons, you stand before this court, guilty of mass murder and destruction of the town of Pine, and have been sentenced to be burned at the stake, do you have any last final words before we proceed?”

      “Please, where is Marisa? I have to find her!”

      “Who is Marisa?”

      “Marisa was the girl who took that bullet from a villagers shooting at him, you Honor. She is dead; this man is delusional and insane,”

      “Very well then, take him away,”

      “No, NO!! Please! Where is Marisa! TELL ME! What have you done with her?! WHERE IS SHE?! WHAT HAVE YOU DONE WITH HER?! MARISA!!”

*****

      “Marisa...is that you? Is it really you? Where were you? I couldn’t find you where I left you, where’d you go?”

      “Now this murderer will feel the full weight of his crimes!”

      “Yeah!”

      “Burn him!”

      “Go back to hell, demon!”

      “Marisa...? Is that really you...?”

*****

      Alice sat up in bed, screaming at the horrendous nightmare, the horrific and scaring images engraved forever in her mind’s eye.

      The Legend of the Mac Tíre Lovers ran far deeper and far darker than Alice had wanted to go. The memory of the aristocrat named Taylor slaughtering the villagers and going completely insane and the image of him burning at the stake, calling out to his lost love, Marisa.

      “OK Alice, get a grip, it was just a nightmare, not big deal. It wasn’t real, it wasn’t...” she paused for a moment, staring at the open window that allowed the cold night breeze to blow against the curtains and the moonlight to leak into the dark room.

      She stood up and got out of bed, and slowly made her way to the window sill.

      That’s funny; I don’t remember leaving the window open-

      She paused, nearly choking on the breath she held back.

      Engraved within the wooden sill was a crudely incised heart that appeared as if it had been etched into the woodwork by...nails. Sharp, human nails. Smudges of blood stained the white sill and written in the red liquid was a message:

     

      I’ve missed you, my love. I’ve been searching for you and now I’ve found you. Meet me under the old sycamore during the full moon. I cannot tell you how much I’ve missed you and how long I’ve waited for you to return.

                   With tremendous love and affection,

                             Taylor

 

      Alice stared unbelieving up at the star studded sky in both utter terror and wondrous awe.

      Tomorrow was the full moon.

Author's Note

I post these practice writings every two weeks. Let me know if you have any requests.