A retelling of the classic- "Beauty and the Beast."

CHAPTER ONE

From his position on the roof, the moonlight bounced off of the roofs of the other buildings in sight, deflecting light in different shades that seemed to amuse Thallan. A giant of a man, he was wearing a royal white robe, odd clothing for an assassin but he didn’t care much for aesthetics.

Thallan smirked as he turned his attention back to the guards on patrol in the compound. He should kill them for the fun of it, he thought. His white-gray hair looked silver in the moonlight and his white teeth gleamed as he smiled. If the guards had seen his smile, they would have peed their pants. It was a smile that promised that it would be the last thing you saw before you lost your life.

He could easily walk into the house and complete his mission, but where was the fun in that?

Thallan jumped down from the rooftop landing on the ground with a loud thud. Heads turned followed by hasty movement of boots and armor, the guards had him surrounded in moments. He chuckled as he raised his hands in mock surrender,

"That’s more like it," he said almost to himself.

"State your business," one of the guards said firmly. He stood a few feet from Thallan and seemed to be in charge here.

Thallan rolled his eyes, "I'm here to kill your master," he replied in a casual and direct tone.

"You can't be serious," another guard responded in angry shock; sword raised.

Thallan raised a brow at him. "I don't joke around."

"Enough!" the guard in charge thundered, "Kill him!"

Thallan dropped his hands as he faked a sigh, "And here I thought we were having a nice conversation."

The second guard who spoke was closest to him at this point and rushed forward at his superior’s order with his sword aimed at Thallan’s throat.

He stopped abruptly after one step and suddenly coughed out blood as he gripped his chest. His eyes widened and in his last moment, he stared with confused fear at a beating heart in the palm of Thallan who hadn’t moved a step.

Thallan let the still beating heart in his hand drop to the floor as the body did the same.

He looked around with a sly grin as the other guards fearfully stepped back from him.

A cold sweat instantly broke out among the guards and a few gulps could be heard as they try tried to wrap their heads around what they just witnessed.

"Kill him, or else Lord Baron will have your heads!" the superior guard barked.

A few guards looked like they were considering risking Lord Baron's punishment, but Thallan gave them no time to think.

He had gotten bored and started moving on the petrified guards.

From their perspective, Thallan seemed to simply appear and disappear around them like still images just before they saw black.

Heads rolled, and organs littered the ground as the previously lush green grass was now a bright red. The superior guard was the only one Thallan allowed time to voice a scream at the instant gory display before a bloodless slash opened his throat to the silent cold air.

Thallan waited as the last body fell, waited to feel something, anything. His shoulders dropped after a silent moment and he strolled into the main house. This time, he wasted no time conversing nor did he attempt any conversation. Any and everyone who he set eyes on fell as he moved quietly with the frightening speed and efficiency of his people.

He dragged his last victim by the hair after him as he stepped into an enormous bedroom that reeked of wealth.

"Please, spare me, my master is not here. Please, I beg of you," his victim pleaded sobbing loudly. Thallan stared down at him, he saw a young boy who couldn't be more than seventeen. He shut his eyes and waited, desperately waiting to feel something, but nothing seemed to come. He reeled in the murderous rage that tore through him trying to quiet the storm gathering inside him.

The boy took the opportunity to take out a small dagger hidden in his worn-out boots and stuck it with as much force as he could muster into Thallan's thigh. Thallan snapped out of his absent minded state and turned his eyes to the boy who gasped as he let go of the weapon. Thallan’s bright blue eyes lined with silver glared back at him. The emerging rage in those eyes told him he had made his last decision in life, he barely had time to regret it before he was lifted off his feet.

Thallan growled as the storm he had been trying to hold erupted from within him, taking over his senses. “All humans are the same,” he thought. Thallan couldn't see past his blind rage even as he tore the boy's body apart, blood soaked his clothes for the first time tonight but he didn't care. He kept ripping until there was nothing left but a handful of the hair he had used to drag the boy in, he gazed at the hair as he calmed down. The boy's hair had been dirty blond. Thallan stuffed the fistful of hair in his pockets and sighed.

A sudden clap of hands made him stand taller and on edge. His eyes narrowed as the clap proceeded into a slow and confident round of applause.

"That was dumb of the servant but only so much can be expected. You are cold, efficient, and kill without mercy. What would it take to have you on my side?"

Thallan smirked as a short man with a round belly stepped into view.

"The Lord Baron," Thallan said lightly.

The man responded with a smile. Thallan studied the man in front of him, he had just watched a young boy get torn to shreds and yet, seemed to feel nothing. He too had felt nothing but that was a different matter altogether.

"You feel nothing for the boy?" He asked, almost curious.

Lord Baron shrugged, "He was merely a servant who didn't think twice about betraying me and that was dumb, stabbing you right after pleading for his pathetic life, ha!"

Thallan agreed with the latter part but the nonchalant arrogance in the way Baron was treating the massacre he had witnessed somehow annoyed him.

"I killed your guards and servants."

Lord Baron's eyes twitched in annoyance, "An inconvenience no doubt, but people can be replaced".

Thallan nodded. “Hm, yes, they can be."

The oversized windows shut suddenly with a loud bang startling the Lord Baron, he found himself floating a few feet from the ground a moment later. His eyes widened and fearful confusion set in as he tried to understand the unfolding events. He looked on as Thallan started walking slowly towards him. He noticed that despite his shocking levitation, he was only now face level with the imposing human-like creature about to end him. His attempt to speak was replaced by the gurgling sound he made as water spilled from his wide mouth.

He found himself floating towards his devilish assailant. The Lord Baron made a fresh attempt to speak. Thallan raised a finger, shushing him.

"No need for meaningless words human, I know what you wish to know".

He slowly and deliberately reached into Lord Baron's throat with his hand raised and took out his windpipe. The baron’s lips quivered as if still trying to release words.

"They always want to know who it is that is bringing death to them. It's unnecessary really, but I'll grant your last wish".

As Lord Baron felt his life fade away, the last thing he heard was a whisper, "I am the beast."

***

Music filled the crowded ballroom as the orchestra played an upbeat number. Guests chatted amongst themselves but the main attention was on the couple dancing in the center of the room.

Isabella's blue teal gown swirled as Lord Alistair spun her around, she laughed in delight. Her steps matched his perfectly and her dark brown eyes were lit with joy; she loved dancing more than anything.

"You look so beautiful," Lord Alistair commented, drawn in by her musical laughter.

She smiled and placed a hand over her heart playfully, "why thank you kind sir."

Lord Alistair pulled her close as the music slowed down, and she adapted her step gracefully with his as a slow tune took over. He held her slim waist as she placed her hands around his neck.

"Marry me," he blurted out.

Isabella pretended like she hadn't heard him, "I still have a number of gentlemen waiting to dance with me," she said, subtly pulling away from him.

His grip on her waist tightened, "Isa."

She winced, he was using her nickname which meant this was going to end badly.

"Answer me!" he demanded under his breath.

Isabella looked away and mumbled, "I can't."

Lord Alistair sighed and took his hands away from her waist, proceeding to run it through his pure black hair. His perfectly slick back hair was now a bit disorganized but Isabella thought it made him look sexier. She, however, thought it wise to keep her observation to herself; nothing good could come from complimenting a man whose pride you just hurt with a fresh rejection. She twisted uncomfortably as she noticed that more than a few curious eyes were now on them.

"What can I do to change your mind?" Lord Alistair spoke, turning Isabella's attention back to him.

She put on the best sad face she could muster and said quietly, "I'm sorry My Lord" then she bowed and turned around.

"Just look at her go, the little witch," a Lady dressed in a yellow puffy gown spat, watching Isabella's hasty retreat.

"I'm sure she just broke yet another heart, the arrogant little thing thinks nobody is good enough for her."

Her group nodded in agreement as the Lady in yellow smirked and turned to look at them, "why don't we see what she has to say?"

The group bowed and followed her as she started walking in the direction Isabella had left in. They found her on the balcony staring at the night sky.

"Lady Isabella" the Lady in yellow called in a derisive tone.

Isabella sighed. Of course they wouldn't let her have a moment's peace.

"Princess Cecilia" she said, with a courteous bow.

The princess scowled. "We both know you haven’t any respect for me."

Cecilia's pale face turned red down to her roots with fury. "You have broken another heart yet again. And this time, it is one I wish to have in my possession."

Isabella shrugged. "I'm sorry?" She responded, posing it as a question.

A messenger appeared and subtly delivered a message to one of the princess's ladies-in-waiting. Princess Cecilia had opened her mouth to speak when her lady-in-waiting whispered in her ears. A smile spread across her face.

"It would appear Lord Alistair wishes to have a dance with me after all." She shot Isabella a triumphant look.

Isabella shrugged, curtsied, and turned around to go back to staring at the stars.

Princess Cecilia marched back into the ballroom with her followers closely behind her.

"It is a pleasure to dance with you Lord Alistair,'' Princess Cecilia said, beaming with joy, the diamonds sparkling in her blonde updo matching her smile.

Lord Alistair gave her a tight smile. "The pleasure is all mine princess."

His eyes searched for Isabella, he regretted that the King had somehow conned him into a promise to dance with his daughter at the ball. He would rather be searching for Isabella, his demand of her hand in marriage may have scared her away.

He felt like facepalming himself, why exactly had he just blurted out "marry me" like a fool? He blamed her beauty; he was known to be cool headed and meticulous.

"...don't know why men like her so much. She always breaks their hearts and seems to have no problem flirting with them. You know she's been that way since we were kids, always batting her eyelashes at young boys causing them to fall helplessly in love with her," the princess’s voice brought him back to the moment

Lord Alistair frowned. "Who are you talking about?"

Princess Cecilia scoffed. "Isabella of course, haven't you been listening to a word I've said?"

Lord Alistair almost laughed but managed to contain it. Sweet Isabella a flirt? Now that was a joke if he ever heard one.

"As I was saying," Princess Cecilia continued. "She's honestly the worst Lady at Court. If her father hadn't been my father's right-hand man, I would have never had the displeasure of knowing her."

Lord Alistair frown deepened and he politely stepped as far as he dared from the Princess who finally stopped talking.

"I had the honor of dancing with the Lady Isabella and heard no malicious words from her. I have been with you barely five minutes, your highness, and all I've heard you speak about is the supposed ill manner of the Lady Isabella. Forgive me, your highness, if I find it distasteful and beg to take leave of this dance."

He turned around without waiting for her response and left. Princess Cecilia turned red once again as everyone stared at her. From the whispers and looks being sent her way, a few of them had heard all Lord Alistair said to her.

Embarrassment threatened to swallow her whole but the emotion that eventually took over was rage, rage that Isabella was always seen as the perfect one, rage that she had all the men vying for her attention when even her title as Princess couldn't get any suitable man to attempt to woo her, rage that the man she really wanted seemed to also be in love with the witch Isabella.

She stormed out of the ballroom heading in the direction she had met Isabella minutes before, her ladies fell in step behind her giving her confidence a boost.

There would be hell to pay.

Isabella turned around just as Princess Cecilia got to where she stood. She had no time to react before a resounding slap landed on her right cheek. The metallic taste of blood almost overwhelmed her self control, she had to bite into her tongue drawing more blood, so she wouldn't react as she knew the princess deserved. Her gloved hands formed into fists and her brown eyes flashed red with rage.

When she spoke however, it was in a calm voice. "I'm sure you have a good reason for choosing to defile my face this fine evening."

Princess Cecilia laughed. "Stay away from Alistair," she growled.

Isabella paused then suddenly let out a loud laugh, she bent over ignoring the corset digging into her skin. She looked up at Cecilia then burst out laughing again. Cecilia glared at her and a hard glint swirled in her emerald green eyes.

Isabella had mocked her for the last time.