VIII :: A Stolen Curse

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MORBID BITE

Chapter Eight :: A Stolen Curse

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.

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The village was alight with lanterns and fires that burnt with a golden glow. Each road was full of people heading for the festival, every girl wearing their finest dress and every boy trying their best to impress the shy beauties. The small orchestra played slow music that every so often would go out of tune and the drunken pianist would begin to shout and bluntly state he thought he was too good to be there. A half-empty bottle sat on the corner of his piano from which he would take a swig every now and then. Young men danced with their chosen partners. Most of the people were simple farm owners and the men who toiled alongside them. Among the dancers were factory workers, both men and women, people Belle had never socialised with.

The sound of laughter and the melodies from the music were the first thing Belle heard as the horse cantered over the top of the hill. She felt a small smile creep over her face, but she tried her best not to let Raoul see it; she didn't want him to feel any more arrogant than he already did. The bitter wind was lost on her bare shoulders, her mind buzzing and the energy that surrounded her and kept back the cold.

As Raoul's horse sped down the hill at a heart racing speed. Belle felt her lose hair sprawl back around her face and the sound of the festival grew louder by the second. The horse slowed as they passed the first house, two elderly women sat out the front. The two women said nothing, but their shocked faces grew starker at the sight of each single woman.

As Belle and Raoul got closer to the centre it became impossible for the huge horse to fit through the narrow allies full of people. Raoul suggested she dismount while he found a place to tie up the shire horse. He was not gone long and before Belle had time to take another deep breath they entered into a world she had never experienced.

Out of all the dances and social occasions she had attended, none of them were like this. The people may have had little money but the happiness they radiated flowed through the atmosphere. Belle felt connected to everyone here. There were no stale conversations, no judgment and no disconnected gossip of the rich.

Market stalls were scattered around the outsides of the dance floor selling cheap clothing and in season fruit and barrels of wine that had a constant stream of customers. Belle watched the couples holding hands and the young children running around in fits of laughter. The freezing spring evening could not penetrate the heat of the dance. A warm hand was suddenly placed on her cold skin and she spun around in surprise; Raoul stood behind her, but his eyes were concentrated on the group dance that had just started. He reached for Belle's hand and pulled her into the centre without asking.

The bourrée dance picked up speed and Belle became out of breath as she spun around in the arms of many a man. Her cheeks burnt with the over use of her smile mussels. But they hurt the most when she had Raoul's arms around her waist. Everything was forgotten and all she could hear was the slamming hands of the pianist and the tired arms of the violinists. A dream, she thought, this was true entertainment - her sisters would die of disapproval. This thought brought a beam to her tired features, doing something so reckless and scandalous was more fun than she could have imagined.

The group began to clap along to the beat and so both herself and Raoul joined in. He did not smile, but Belle had gotten used to this. His solemn face would have looked wrong with a smile. It suited him, she thought, if he held a smile he would have been not been himself.

Raoul turned his gaze back to Belle and as he noticed her staring she felt her face turn an even darker shade of pink. Belle had not noticed him watching her only moments before.

He loved the way her blue dress flowed around her body like the water of a forest spring. He knew she stood out - her dress was expensive, and he noticed the glares and looks she attracted from the other men but to him she was more than just a beauty, she was hope. He feared her.

The music stopped, and Raoul stepped forwards and grabbed Belle around the waist pulling her away from the dance. Belle smiled, she could not help it, she felt like she was walking on air. He took a hold of her delicate hand and the two practically flew towards the market stalls.

Belle shortly left Raoul's side and looked at all the produce on sale. Most of it was food, small wooden toys or scratchy cheap shawls.

"Want anything miss?" The man asked his eyes running - with no shame – over her body.

"No," Belle replied her tone un amused, turning on her toes and looking one last time at the inexpensive clothing.

She walked along the edge of the dancers scanning the crowd for Raoul. She had lost him. Running her tongue around her dry mouth she rose up on her tip toes and tried to see him. A rough fabric suddenly ran over her bare shoulders and she spun around to see Raoul place one of the shawls across her.

"I saw you looking at them."

"Oh." Belle ran her eyes over the grey wrap. "Thank you but I can't accept this, I don't deserve it."

"Don't worry about it."

He stared into her eyes and then quickly turned back to look at the stall man, who was looking confused and picking up his stock and looking stressed as his plump faced filled with anger.

"You stole it!" Belle pursed her lips and looked shyly down in an amused manner, a part of her loving the criminal gift he had given her.

"Careful, someone might hear you."

He placed his hand over her mouth and then ran his hand through her hair. He suddenly lost all the control and his face turned a shade of grey; his hand becoming a fist in her curls.

"Ow." Belle pulled away shocked at his action.

Raoul was no longer looking at Belle, his arms had gone around his stomach and his eyes were wide open in pure terror and pain. Belle stood in stunned anxiety. She had no idea what was happening, so she placed a hand on his shoulder, trying to comfort him.

"Get off of me!" he spat at her and then ran - pushing through the people.

Belle looked after him in horror, picking up her feet she followed. She was confused at what had been, seconds before, a wonderful evening but was now turning into something hellish. Trailing after Raoul, she kept shoving her shoulders into the crowds of couples in order to stay on his tail.

"Raoul," she yelled, grabbing his shoulder. He spun around and took a hold of her bare arms.

"Leave right now, Belle," his voice was strained as he dug his thumb into her soft muscle.

He roughly shoved her onto the ground and then sprinted off over the dark field and towards the forest. Despite his persistence, Belle could not leave him. She got up from the ground and chased after him again. She had never run so much in her life as she had in the past months. Part of her felt a certain thrill to it, she knew it was wicked of her but it was an adventure.

There was a cold chill to the air and as Belle ran over the lumpy grassland, she felt her shoes fall from her feet and sink into the mud puddles that surrounded her. She could just see Raoul running before her, the moonlight shining onto the uneven grassland. In Belle's mind there was a romance to the situation. She would have blamed too much liquor, has she drunk it, but the truth was, she was awash with adrenaline. But then as they drew close to the wooded boundary. Belle stumbled and stopped as she watched in shock as Raoul pulled off his clothes. The hellish scene in front of her was like that of her worse nightmare. The muscles in his arm expanding and changing ebony like the blackest coal, the bones in his body cracking like the whip of a runaway carriage. Belle could not hear this because his screams muffled out the sound of his bones breaking. He turned his head towards Belle as his eyes clouded into the fires of hell. All the romance she had thought of the evening vanished and she fled.

He was the beast. How could she have been so stupid? People had said that the monster was like a man, scheming and torturing its victims. He had killed her father and now wanted to relish in the pain he had caused; ruin every prospect she ever had of returning to society and marring... Belle felt the tears drop from her eyes and run down her burning pink cheeks. Stupid, Stupid insolent girl, she should have never gone with him, should should have left with her sisters. As Belle wallowed in her thoughts a low chorus of howls erupted from the depths of the forest. Belle had wandered aimlessly away from the beast she had not realised she had taken herself deeper into the forest. The ground broke and cracked as the wolves around her snapped the undergrowth. Belle was no longer prey to the monster but to a pack of hungry wolves. Fear set in, stronger than she had felt for the beast. The trees started to become denser and Belle had to put her arms out to find her way through the forest. That was when the first wolf attacked, at first it was just a lunge for her leg, knocking her to the ground. The next slowly prowled towards her, its white teeth catching the fading light of the moon. Belle crawled backwards over the ground, still keeping her eyes on as many wolves as possible. Their eyes flashed when catching the dim light like coins at the bottom of a wishing well.

Before Belle could utter her last prayers, a sudden animal whine made her heart stop. A huge black distorted wave moved at an ungodly speed around her, picking off the wolves one by one and throwing them away with its monstrous jaws. The alpha turned its deep growl on whatever was harvesting off his pack. Slowly a giant beast stalked out of the trees and towards the wolf. The wolf was big, but the beast dwarfed it. Belle had not seen it so close before as she watched it loom over its victim. The bare rough skin of its muzzle and face was like a vulture and it moved in a bird like jerk sizing up its victim. The wolf lunged forward, sinking its teeth into the mass of black hair that covered its neck like a mane. The beast roared, the rumble echoing the deepest pits of Belle's soul. In one bite, the wolf's head was seethed from its body, which dropped to the ground with a terrifying thud.

Taking a sharp intake of breath, the beast turned its red orbs onto her. It slowly walked towards her helpless body, its muzzle coved in blood. It was over her in a moment and its hot breath blew her hair away from her face, covering her in rotting flesh. Hot scarlet blood dripped down her, forcing her to shut her eyes. Belle knew she was going to die, she could not possibly survive this monster a second time as she stared back into its eyes. But the two red embers began to drain of their colour and turn into the hurt blue of Raoul's. It took only a second for Belle to realize what she was watching. Raoul was battling for dominance over the beast that raged inside of him.

"Raoul," Belle whispered as she brought her shaking hand up to the beast's head.

The soft fur that tickled her palm was so different to the coarse, almost wire-like texture of its appearance that Belle quickly retracted her hand. The human eyes stared at her as if the beast knew every dark secret and feeling she had ever harboured. Then he turned his giant head and the huge animal jerked, his black tail dragging behind in the mud. The creature began to change, first its back caved in and lost the ebony hue to the light ivory of human flesh, then the animal like noise became a muffled moan of a man. Raoul was gradually appearing from the giant beast and Belle could not help but be curious even though every fibre of her existence was screaming at her to flee. She followed behind him trying her best to conceal herself within the darkness of the trees.

Raoul's naked body lay collapsed across the forest floor, his scarred, muscular back gleaming with sweat in the moonlight. His ragged breathing and clenched shaking body made Belle stop and wonder if he truly had returned or if he was in the mists of both beast and man. He turned his shaking head and his gaze connected with Belle's. His soul showed a sense of fear that she had not expected. His hair stuck to his face and in that moment, he was that lost frightened boy.

"Do I frighten you Belle?" his voice was steady, and he did not move.

"Yes," Belle replied in the same unwavering tone, stuck to the spot she stood in.

"I wouldn't let it hurt you."

"Yes?" Belle believed him, yet part of her was at a loss.

"Yes."

"You killed my father. You have killed so many innocent people."

"Then leave." He turned his face away unable to see the condemnation in her eyes.

Belle untied the shawl from her shoulders and precariously walked over to Raoul, her eyes averting from the naked figure before her. She threw the piece of flimsy stolen material over his form and then turned her back to him.

"How did you become like this?"

Raoul grabbed the material and tied it around his waist. He ran his eyes over Belle as she stood with her back to him. She was the first person to know him completely and she had reacted in a way he could never have predicted.

"My mother." He gulped and then stood up. "She was a druid."

"A heathen!" Belle spun around in shock.

Raoul flinched at her words, feeling pain from her tone.

"Yes. My mother, she felt herself dying as my sister grew inside her, so she became obsessed with making her children stronger. But she grew more and more obsessed as the months dragged on and her prayer began to dwindle from the correct path. One night, she took a lock of my hair and preformed a ritual to the Horned God, believing he would grant me some sort of strength.

When nothing happened, she became certain I would die but the Horned God doesn't give his so-called gifts without a price and it wasn't until she died that her prayers were answered. I am strong, ruthless and very hard to kill." Raoul said the statements as if from a passage, his feelings and own personal views drained from it.

"I'm sorry."

Belle reached out her hand to touch his shoulder but as she did, so she heard a loud commotion from the shrubs and two human silhouettes sprinted into the depths of the forest.

"Damn it!" Raoul violently whispered.

"Who was that?" Fear rose in her voice as she hugged her weak body.

"The druids. They see you know about me."

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There will most likely be many mistakes but I really wanted to post the next chapter as my updating is slow at the moment. I hope you liked it! Do tell me if you think the dance was too cheesy as I wanted something fun but not sure if it works! Vote and comment if you enjoyed!

Druids are a religious cult that are very old they are similar to Celtic and other ancient cultural beliefs. They still exist today and monuments such as Stonehenge are their religious sites.

Dedicated to @Forcade for the new beautiful cover!