My face was now freezing from the tears which wouldn’t stop. I strung my hood tightly over my face. It did little to stop the cold.

I didn’t even say goodbye to everyone, I thought as the horse rode into the forest. And I’ll never see them again. Connie, August, Mother. But this is for the best, I told myself through the mire of despair. They’re better off without me.

The horse moved at a steady trot from the main road directly into the woods. It walked straight through the branches and sticks. Meanwhile, I covered myself as the forest seemed to grab at my clothes and skin. Its long legs were undeterred by the ankle-deep snow. Its hooves left great craters in the white and effortlessly crushed fallen logs.

As we rode through the forest, the cold morning light quickly faded away until the pitch black of night covered the world. It was someone who had blown out the sun like a candle.

I looked around at the lines of snow-covered trees. There was no path or lights anywhere. Only the light of the moon and the shining eyes of animals running in the dark. We were well and truly nowhere.

Then, up ahead, a flickering blue light.

The trees parted. We passed under a massive metal gate covered with ice and snow.

The blue fire came from a lantern in the middle of a great courtyard. Large raven statues stood solemnly in the dark, the light dancing off their polished black stone.

The horse knelt to the ground. I carefully stepped off into the snow.

A colossal mansion loomed overhead. Massive arched windows sat beside ornately carved stone columns. Roofs terminating in sharp metal steeples soared high above. Gargoyles shaped like giant birds leered out from the corners of the roof. Giant hedges covered in snow lined the gravel courtyard. Two large wooden doors sat above a set of stone steps. On both doors sat a large crest set into the wood:

I ran a shaking hand against the steed’s stone neck as thanks. It bowed its head before picking itself up. It did not move from its spot under the lantern post.

I walked up the stone steps to the doors. My pocket squeaked. I reached inside and held Doux close. “It’s okay,” I told him as I patted his small head. I replaced him in his hiding spot.

On both doors sat a large crest: A large rose in full bloom while a raven spread its wings behind. In its clawed legs, the raven held a ribbon with three words inscribed: In Somnis, Veritas.

I took a breath and banged my fist on the door.

For a moment, there was no answer. I sat staring up at the entrance, shivering from the cold.

Then, the doors opened with a loud creak. Inside was pitch black.

I stepped inside.

My boots hit marble, then carpet. The only light came from the lantern’s flame weakly flickering through the open door and windows. Otherwise, I saw nothing but black.

The doors creaked closed behind me. I jumped back.

Quiet voices chattered indistinctly around me. Footsteps scuttled around. I braced myself for the worst.

Suddenly, a massive chandelier above me blazed to life with blue candlelight. The room illuminated before was a foyer with a double staircase, polished marble floor, and elaborately woven carpet. The carpet appeared to be an authentic Arabic design, with bright blue and gold patterns visible even in the low light. A hallway lay ahead. The way was lit by strange candle-like lights that seemed to levitate in midair.

I headed down the hall, passing by marble statues pointing the way. They were clean and immaculately carved, like the work of the great Renaissance sculptors. I inspected one closely, observing the carved clothing and individual strands of hair. It was a servant dressed in simple maid garb. The features of her face were so perfectly captured. The likeness was so real. Too real.

I looked away at another statue. Then I looked back at the maid statue.

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The maid was gone, now on the other side of the hall. She was frozen in mid-conversation with another statue.

A pit opened in my stomach. I blocked it out of my mind as I continued walking.

The voices I heard earlier were louder and clearer. They were all around me, yet nowhere.

Who is he?

The woman was supposed to come. Why is he here?

What will the Mistress think?

The path stopped at a massive library lit by a huge roaring fireplace. There were walls and walls of books, more books than I could ever imagine. In front of the fireplace were two massive armchairs with a table between them. A silver-tipped cane leaned against the chair.

I cleared my throat. “Here I am,” I said.

A taloned hand reached from behind the chair and took the cane.

I held my breath.

A tall creature emerged from behind the chair. The firelight cast a long shadow over me. It was a woman, yet not. She was dressed in a long silk robe with elegant floral designs on the collar and sleeves. Large birdlike feet poked out from under her robe. Her hands were four-fingered and scaly, with long talons. Her head was a ragged mass of thick black feathers and a large, hooked beak. Her eyes were an icy blue which glowed dimly in the darkness.

“Come closer.” She said. Her voice was deep and commanding.

I froze. Fear locked my joints. The creature sighed and moved closer. She walked with a limp on her left side. Soon she was mere inches away from me. I could see now that she was very tall. I guessed she was about six feet in height. She easily towered over me, staring down at me with those frightful eyes.

Her eyes darted over me. “What is your name?”

I swallowed. “M-Marius Dufresne.” I bowed politely.

“Where is the woman?”

“I have come in her place,” I said, my head still bowed.

“Why?”

“I felt responsible for her theft of your property.” I reached into my pocket and produced the inkbrush. “I wanted to return it personally. And… repay the debt incurred.”

The Beast plucked the brush from my hands like a bird pecking a crumb. She narrowed her eyes at the brush, then tossed it on the side table. “Then you are here taking her place of your own free will?”

“I am.”

“Then welcome, Marius Dufresne. I am the Madame of this estate.” She held out a scaly hand to me.

I kissed her hand. It was rough to the touch. “A-a pleasure, Madame.”

“You are afraid of me.” She said curtly.

I said nothing.

“Your fear will do you little good here.” She pointed a talon down the hall. “Your room has been prepared.”

I turned to see statues gesturing down the hall with outstretched arms and smiling faces. I turned back to the Madame. “Thank you, Madame, but I must ask; what do you want with me?”

“I want you to join me for breakfast tomorrow evening.”

I blinked. “Breakfast?”

“You will be summoned. Now go.”

“Thank you, Madame,” I said.

The Madame said nothing and merely returned to her giant chair by the fire.

I followed the statues down the hall and up a flight of stairs. Every time I turned my head or blinked, the statues changed position and expression. Some appeared far ahead of me. Others remained close beside me, their bodies freezing mid-step as if viewing a series of images in quick succession. Their voices continued whispering around me, like twittering flocks of birds.

He’s so young.

Poor thing.

My room was spacious with a large canopy bed, dresser, and desk. Inside the dressers were fresh clothes and sleepwear. New boots and a pair of nice slippers sat on a small rack beside the dresser.

There was a bathroom with marble floors, a sink, and a deep walk-in tub. There were fresh towels and a small basket of soaps and ointments. I turned the crystal knob of the tub. Warm water gushed from the faucet. Running water was a godsend after three years without it.

My pocket squeaked. I reached in and pulled out Doux. He looked up at me and twitched his whiskers. I scratched his head.

“How did you manage, little one?” I said to him.

With relish, I took a hot bath. Doux bathed with me. He swam around in little circles, cutting little roads of clear water through the soap and bubbles. The water was so warm that I felt myself dozing off. I wanted to sink into the water and forget about everything, forget myself and the past day. But of course, I couldn’t.

When I was done, I dried myself off and changed into clean nightclothes. I dried off Doux, who squirmed and squeaked in protest the whole time. After that, I lay down in bed. The cushions were unbelievably soft. I pulled the covers over me and settled in. I laid Doux down on a pillow beside me. Not a moment passed, and the furry thing was fast asleep.

I stared out into the night. The falling snowflakes were like falling stars against the cold blue night sky. The few visible clouds were torn bits of paper blowing weakly in the wind. Beyond that, I saw only the silhouette of the forest swaying in the wind.

Is this real? I thought as my eyes grew heavy. Or am I just dreaming? I didn’t have an answer.

I closed my eyes.

My eyes are open, but I can’t move.

The room is pitch black. I hear nothing but my heartbeat inside my ears.

Then in the corner of the room, I see it.

My eyes go wide. I want to scream, but my mouth doesn’t move.

Its body is long and thin. Its arms are like twigs, with hands tipped with long claws. Its eyes are tiny white dots that stare coldly into my soul.

Without a sound, it glides slowly toward me. Its deliberate pace suggests it’s savoring what it’s doing to me.

I want to scream. I want to cry. I cannot. I am frozen in place.

It comes to the foot of the bed and grips one of the poles of the canopy.

With the other, it reaches for me.

Its hand closes over my face, blocking out my vision.

I finally scream, but my mouth is already smothered.