"Mama?"

Heat from the flames made waves come up from the ground. A few sparks flew around like lightning bugs.

"Mama, where are you?"

I was in the entryway of the house, shouting for my mother. Father and Joshua were outside. They got out when the men came in. I ran down the hall to my bedroom to see if Mama was there, hiding in my favorite hiding place. My birthday present, a silver necklace, bounced up and down on my chest as I ran.

I looked in my room, careful not to touch anything. Black clouds of smoke rose up from the flames, making me choke.

"Ma-- mama? Where are you?"

A high-pitched scream filled my ears, and I ran to my parents' bedroom. Wood panels started to fall down from the sides my house. Panic crossed my mind as I realized that I need to leave. I couldn't leave without Mama, though. A stuffed lamb with soft pink bows adorning its ears lied on the ground with flames engulfing it, making it turn to ash. My favorite toy. Tears started creeping down my face. I ran into my parents' room.

"Mama!" I started, but stopped quickly. There were five men in there with black masks on, gathered around my parent's wooden bed. The smallest of them grabbed me by my collar before I could flee.

"Looky here, boss. We got another one."

For some reason, I got stuck on that voice. It was so familiar.

The apparent boss poked his head up from the other side of the bed. His mask crinkled, giving the illusion of a sick smile

"Girly, you shouldn't be in here. Don't you know not to go back into burning buildings?"

He got up and slowly walked to me, flicking something in his hands as he did. A dark stain ran down the front of his shirt. I coughed, choking on the flames.

A wet hand touched my cheek roughly. The man's face was close to mine, his yellow eyes reflecting the fire behind me.

"Lemme go! I want my Mama!"

All the men laughed. The boss took out the thing he was playing with earlier and flicked it some more. It was a small, foldable knife. Blood shone on the sides of its silver surface. He held it menacingly in front of my face. I tried to move back, but I was held in place by the guy who grabbed me.

"Should we let her see her mama, boys?" the man shouted. An off-sync chorus of 'yeah's' responded. Two of the masked men smacked their hands together.

The bigger man grabbed my hand, hard. He pulled me to the other side of the bed. A heap of something lied on the floor, sprawled out in a shape that is not humanly possible. Its brown eyes were open and staring into oblivion with a glazed over look about them. Tendrils of brown stringy stuff  fanned out from the round shape that the eyes are on, clumped together by dried blood. Its clothing was half-way torn off and covered with holes; the torn pieces wrapped in a ball under what would be the things legs. Small, thin pits lined its stomach, with red liquid seeping through the holes. The way the thing was bent it looked like a limp doll. A dark red liquid pooled out from around it, making a misshapen circle. My eyes widened when I figured out what it is.

It wasn't a what, or an it.

It was my mother.

*****

I woke up in a cold sweat, bunched underneath my covers. My breath caught and caught again, and as much as I wanted to, I couldn't move. I needed to get up. I found feeling in my arms and legs and bolted out of bed, running my hands through my hair frantically, trying to calm myself. I bent down and put my head between my knees, then straightened up again, then bent down. Every time I blinked I saw my mother. Every move I made I saw her killers. I wasn't in control of my own body. I moved around the room, needing to scream but unable to, needing to cry but having no tears, needing to close my eyes but unwilling to. I couldn't even breath. I sat on my bed and bury my head in my hands, then fell onto my back.

The game.

I counted to ten, then twenty, then thirty, breathing in and out on each number like Joshua had said to do years ago. With each count in the thirties, I made an image in my mind of things that calm me, then let it go as I breathed in or out. With the last count, I summoned up my favorite picture that was in my old house-- a picture of my mother with my father, smiling at each other lovingly.

Slowly, I let my breath out. I hadn't had a nightmare like that in a long time. I touched my cheek and felt tears dripping down my chin. Instead of wiping them away like usual, I let them fall. I sat on the edge of the bed quietly, counting. I was trying to keep all of the images out of my head. When I'd counted a minute, sixty times, I got up shakily and grabbed the candle on the desk next to my bed. It was probably the middle of the night. I didn't trust myself to stay in my bed, and although I wasn't tired, I was not completely sure that I wouldn't fall asleep if I stayed. I fumbled for the candle, only being able to see by the small sliver of moonlight that crept its way into the room.

When I got the candle lit, I slowly moved toward the door, careful to not make any noise. I tried the door handle and found it locked. Frustration chewed at me as I put the light down softly and searched my hair for a pin. When I found what I was looking for, I carefully put the pin in the lock and turned, wriggling it around as I did so. After a few minutes, I heard a satisfying clink of the door unlocking. I quickly picked up my lantern and walked out. It suddenly occurred to me that I had no idea where I wanted to go. The thought of the piano room crossed my mind, but it also drove me away. I didn't need any more reminders of my mother than I already had floating through my mind.

I turned to the left and trod directly down the hall and around the corner until I came to a bigger door directly in front of me. It was shaped like a dome, with rectangular divets cut into its aurelian surface. Two bronze lion heads each hold a copper ring at the center of the entryway; both rings as high as my head. I grasped the ring closest to me and pulled. A low creak resounded down the hallway, making me freeze in my tracks. I listened, trying to hear the sound of anyone coming to me. Nothing. Breathing in deeply, I pulled the door the rest of the way, leaving myself enough room to slip through the narrow gap I left myself. I grabbed my pin  I used to pick the lock earlier and shoved it in between both doors, securing the fact that I could get out of the room.

I picked up my candlestick again and held it up in front of my face, casting light further into the room. A gasp escaped my lips. Bookshelves lined the burgundy walls, book stacked on all of them from floor to ceiling. Deep green carpet covered the floor, following the small set of stairs to a seating area with two velvet chairs sitting next to each other and a crackling fireplace in front of them. The ceiling was glass, so the moon's rays gave light to the library.

"You can see the stars," I whispered. The sky was speckled with stars, both big and small, as far as I could see. I stood still in amazement, feet planted in the middle of the room. Finally, the lure of the books dragged me out of my trance. I walked over to the seating area and sat in one of the velvet chairs carefully, scared that it would break. I sighed as I got comfortable. It was like a poofy cloud.

"How are you supposed to get to the books on the top shelf," I wondered aloud to myself. "Is there a ladder in here somewhere?"

No sooner than the words left my mouth, an oak ladder appeared at the bookshelves. I glanced around to see if anyone was near me, but there was no one. A thought dawned on me as I got up from the chair.

"A guide to the books in here would be nice too."

A soft flump resounded from the chair I had just gotten up from. I smiled and turn. A large book with a wrinkled cover was laying on the seat. I quickly flipped through the old, worn pages of the reference book to see what I could grab. The 'magic' section caught my eyes quickly, and I turned the pages to the start of the chapter. Only three words took up the whole page.

Magicae Pro Tironibus

"Great," I whispered, exasperated.

I hope the whole book isn't in whatever language the title is in because if it is, I'll be out of luck.

I saw the section that the book was in, then went to the ladder and moved it to the right spot. I grasped the wooden sides firmly and started to climb, hoping that I wouldn't fall. When I reached the top, I saw one lone book on the top shelf. I took it down and climbed back down the ladder. When I reached the floor again, I moved everything back to it's original starting positions and quietly opened the door. As much as the thought of staying in the library appealed to me, I needed to get back to my room in case somebody went looking for me.

I quietly closed the door and tiptoed down the hallway again, the dusty book in one hand and my candle in the other. When I reached my door, I heard a low moan coming from the room next to mine. I froze, my hand trembling over the small doorknob to unlock my door. The moan came again, low and sad. I sighed, cracked open my door enough to put Magicae Pro Tironibus inside the room, then left the door open just enough that I could run in if I need to.

Another noise made me jump. It took a moment for me to realize what it was, but I was shocked to hear it. The piano was playing softly, hitting enough notes for someone to be playing it with one hand. I moved over to the closed door and found the keyhole. Peeking through, I saw the Beast, his right hand carefully hitting notes on the thing to make a song. The song had a haunting sound to it, like a funeral march but a bit happier.

He played with his eyes closed, not looking at the keys. His shoulders heaved, but I saw no tears, nothing to indicate sadness. Suddenly the song stopped. I watched the Beast shudder and twitch as he brought his hands to his head. He cried out in....pain? With labored breaths, he slowly staggered to the window, shakily opening it when he got there. With a thud, he fell onto all fours against the wall. Another cry followed but this time, a cry like a wounded animal who knew the next few moments could be it's last. He encircled his head with his arms, like there was a loud noise that he was trying to block out, and started to rock back and forth against the wall, a black blob moving soundlessly in the darkness. One of his hands made its way into the small sliver of moonlight. I couldn't help but gasp. The pale hand had grown dark brown fur almost all over it, leaving only a few sections hair-free. Long, yellow claws adorned the end of each finger, retracting and poking back out erratically.

Immediately after I gasped, the Beast stopped moving. I wondered why briefly, but then it hit me. He had heard my gasp. I held my breath, hoping he wouldn't move, that he wouldn't come over to the door. My wish was not granted. He got up, back facing me. My heart started pumping wildly in my chest. The thing that got up wasn't the Beast who I had spoken to a few days before. The dark brown hair that covered his hand now covered his entire body. The dark shirt that he wore was split down the back, leaving a hunched back with the vertebrae stretched up against the skin seeable. His blond, clumpy hair had changed to the brown stuff, and it now hung to his shoulders like a mane. He seemed to have grown at least a foot in all directions, stretching his clothes tightly around his body. The new beast turned around to face the door. The silver colored mask that made him look like a beast was gone, and in place of it was a set of real canine teeth that poked their way out of his mouth. The dark red eyes that belonged to the Beast latched onto mine.

"Run."

I didn't move, paralyzed in fear. A low growl emitted from the back of his throat.

"Run!"

This time I moved, scrambling to my feet and running backward at the same time to do what the animal told me. A roar came from the beast, an animalistic roar that told me that the eyes that recognized me wouldn't anymore. I slammed the door to my room, fumbling around for the key to lock it. The sound of shattering glass stopped me. I listened very carefully, then ducked down to look out the keyhole. There was nothing. No noise, no beast. Another roar came, but this time from outside. I flew over to the window and gently moved the curtains less that an inch away from the glass, just enough that I could peek outside. A dark shape bounded into the forest, chasing a wild animal. I let out a breath that I didn't realize I had been holding as I stood there, watching to see if he would come back.

Nothing.

After a while, I shakily moved over to the book I took, then sat on my bed. I opened it carefully and, with relief, found that it was written in a language I could read. I slowly read over the words, but I couldn't stop the thoughts running through my head.

What happened to him?

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Translations
magicae pro tironibus: magic for beginners
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Discussion starter:  What is Zara going to do with the book and what do you think happened to the Beast? Had he always been like that or did something happen?