**Trigger warning**
This story contains some strong/violent themes and language, some gore and mentions of blood.
❉ ╤╤╤╤ ✿ ╤╤╤╤ ❉
A
Rose
For The
Beast
❉ ╧╧╧╧ ✿ ╧╧╧╧ ❉
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Word Count: 1,476
Heroics and Horrors
༛༛ ༛ ༛༺༻༛ ༛ ༛༛
The moon hovered ominously overhead once they reached Michel's territory. She welcomed the cool air as snow started falling around them. Her father wasn't as enamored with the land as Rosalie. He cautiously stepped across the frost covered ground, gazing in wonder at their surroundings. She smiled to herself, wondering if she had exhibited the same awestruck expression when she first saw the landscape.
The white wolf lifted his fluffy head to look up at the moon through the trees, pulling her away from her reminiscing. The blue light reflecting off the surface of the moon cascaded down, illuminating the wintery land. The large trees and long branches stretched with a light breeze as the group picked up their pace.
Rosalie slowed only to let her father catch up as he struggled with the terrain and weather. She tried convincing him to go home and that a man with his moral standing wouldn't be much help in a fight, but he refused.
"I may not have ever killed before, but I can get through just about any locked door in . You'll have to tie me to a tree to keep me from coming after you, Rosalie. Even then, I'd catch up eventually. Knots are another one of my specialties," he said with a weary grin.
By the time the castle of BelleMontagne came into view, Victor could barely breathe. He collapsed to his knees and took in deep, raspy breaths. She bent down beside him, worry creasing her brow.
After a moment, his breathing grew steady and he looked up at her with a smile. Then, he turned his gaze toward the magnificent castle in the distance. While not as great in size as Magda's dwelling, Michel's castle made up for it in its architectural design. The unique spires, twisting columns and stairs, as well as the overgrown garden in front left her father speechless as he stammered for the words to describe what he was seeing.
"This...it's...Mon Deui..."
Rosalie knew her curious mind had been inherited from her father. She could see the questions bubbling within him. Before she could say anything on the matter, a jostling noise in the distance startled them. The wolf nudged them to the left and out of sight.
"Listen here, you bumbling bafoon. If you harm one hair on that rabbit's head, I will call forth a wrath, the likes of which you've never imagined before."
She stopped short at the sound of Monsieur Dubois' ranting and peeked back toward the noise.
"Get down!," the wolf whispered furiously.
Rosalie took cover at the base of one of the trees and cautiously peeked out. Marching away from the castle were two cloaked men in green. The color stuck out amongst the white landscape. Her lungs seized when she saw one of the guards holding Mr. Dubois by his tail and the other carried an unconcious rabbit by its ears. She knew the furry ears belonged to Monsieur Carrote.
When she tried to stand up, the wolf latched onto her dress with its teeth, snatching her back down. She shivered from the snow touching her bare arms and turned to glare at the canine.
"Wait here," he said before she could berate him.
Then, he silently sprinted off in the opposite direction, leaving them behind in the freezing cold. She glanced at her father, who huddled up to the tree nearest her. He trembled from the frigid air and she cursed the damned wolf for running off.
"Stop swinging him like that! You're going to injure his ears!," Mr. Dubois yelled out.
"Oh, yeah? Let's see, then, shall we?," the guard replied.
Rosalie peered around the tree to witness the horror as one of the guards tossed Monsieur Carrote by his ears. The limp rabbit landed several feet away, rolling on impact. The cloaked men laughed as the one holding Monsieur Dubois dropped him. The tortoise retreated into his shell before landing hard on the ground.
The guard reared his leg back to kick Monsieur Dubois. Just as Rosalie ran out from behind her hiding spot to intervene, the white wolf launched itself at the cloaked men from behind, knocking them down with brute force. One of them pulled a small blade and lunged toward the animal, but the wolf's large paws gave him enough traction to slip out of striking distance and sight.
The armed man glanced around wildly, searching for the wolf. It's white coat camouflaged with the snowy land, making it impossible for them, or Rosalie, to distinguish him from the landscape. Suddenly, the man changed tactics, reaching for the tortoise who remained within the safety of its shell.
As he raised the blade to stab into Monsieur Dubois' underbelly, the wolf attacked again. This time, it went in for the kill, closing its jaws around the assailant's neck and forcing him to drop his weapon. The jagged teeth tore through flesh and bone, causing the tortoise to slip from the man's shaking hands. Rosalie watched in morbid fascination until the other guard rose with a dagger of his own.
The white wolf didn't seem to notice as he was preoccupied with killing the other cloaked male. Rosalie screeched out a warning too late as the dagger plunged into the wolf's backside, blood staining its pristine fur red. A terrible cry escaped the canine. It relinquished its hold and fell to the ground in a heap.
Thought and reason escaped her. She ignored her father's commands as Rosalie ran straight toward the fight, scooping up the small blade from the ground as she slammed her elbow into the guard's jaw, shoving him away. The one whose neck had been ripped out lay gurgling on the ground a few feet away, but she paid him no attention, taking a defensive stance over her furry friend's body.
The cloaked guard rose to stand and spat out some blood on the ground. Pride emerged within her, even though her elbow throbbed painfully. He deserved so much worse. His dark eyes squinted at her.
"How the hell did you escape the dungeon?"
"Dumb question coming from an immoral bastard soon to be deceased," she quipped.
The words sounded convincing, but even as she said them, she wasn't entirely sure she would be able to follow through. That same nagging voice within her sent a barrage of guilt laden messages at her.
Do no harm onto others, for they are no different than you...
To hurt is easy, to heal is much harder...
Every life has a worth...
But the words no longer had as great an impact as before. Not when lives other than her own were at stake.
The guard gave her a creepy smile and nodded at the other man on the ground. She noticed he had lost his color in her peripheral.
"Your dog murdered my pal. I gotta say, that's a pretty good reason for revenge. Don't ya think?"
"If that's the case, then you've had this coming for a long while and I should feel nothing as I pierce your heart with this blade."
That seemed to hit a nerve as he scowled at her, then pulled out another matching dagger. Both hands were armed and aimed at her. She dodged the first blow, but he surprised her by jabbing her in the ribs with his knee. Rosalie stumbled, but remained standing as she tried to catch her breath.
He allowed her no reprieve as he struck again and again. She managed to deflect or dodge some of the hits until he rammed his elbow into her stomach, forcing her to drop the blade and cradle her abdomen. Rosalie crumbled to her knees and placed her forehead against the snow as she struggled to breathe.
A large hand violently gripped her hair and yanked her toward the other guard's body. She couldn't find the voice to scream, let alone the energy to protest as he shoved her face in front of the mutilated corpse. The horrid smell of blood and death permeated from the body, churning her injured stomach, twisting it into more painful knots. The agony and horror finally sent a soft groan from her lips.
"You see what you've done, putain? You see, you little whore?! I'm going to make you suffer just like--"
The man jerked behind her, letting go of his vise grip on her hair. Rosalie breathed sporadically as she turned on her back. The end of the blade she'd dropped was now protruding from the guard's chest, blood seeping out around the wound as he looked down at her with utter confusion, then plummeted onto the snow beside her with a soft thud.
Her mouth hung open as she peered at her father standing where the guard had been. He gazed down at his bloody hands in shock.
༛༛ ༛ ༛༺༻༛ ༛ ༛༛
Gif from Tenor
Background Image from Unsplash Stock Photo Site
Wattpad Link: https://my.w.tt/7xUi9GpKzY
Comment