The Frog and The Beast

The Beast Chapter 5

"What have you done to me?!" I roared, my voice echoing in the stillness.

"I have made you look as you truly are," she replied, a smirk playing on her lips.

I turned to the mirror, my heart sinking into a pit of horror. Raven-black fur, the same shade as my hair, covered my entire body. My face had morphed into a structure that was almost feline, yet my ears and jaws unmistakably resembled those of a canine. I was massive and hulking, my hands still intact but now hairy and tipped with claws reminiscent of a lion or tiger. My feet had transformed into compact paws, leaving me astonished that I could still stand upright.

The only part of me that remained unchanged were my eyes—dark blue, just like my mother's.

"Change me back!" I commanded, desperation lacing my voice. "Change me back! Or I'll kill you!"

In a fit of rage, I lunged for her, pinning her to the floor, my claws digging into her skin, tearing it. She merely laughed, and with a wave of her hand, an unseen force hurled me away. She stood up, her wounds healing instantly.

"Silly human," she said, her tone dripping with disdain. "You can't kill me. My kind is far from fragile. We are not as shallow as you, but we can be a thousand times more cruel."

"What are you?" I demanded, my voice trembling.

"I am just as the rumors at school suggested—a witch. And you should know, it's unwise to meddle with witches. We hold grudges that can last for centuries."

"You've turned me into a monster!"

"You were always a monster! I merely made you look the part. Your ugly sins marred that handsome face of yours, and you have no one to blame but yourself. Minerva suggested I leave you like this for eternity. But perhaps there's a flicker of warmth buried in that frozen heart of yours. After all, you did give a rose to a girl you deemed not beautiful."

Really? That's what made her think I wasn't entirely bad? I had merely acted on a whim.

"So I'll give you one chance to prove me wrong about your kind being only skin deep—specifically you. Reach into your pocket."

I complied, pulling out the two white rose petals I had pocketed earlier.

"Two years," she said, her voice cold and unyielding. "That's how long you have to break the spell and prove me wrong. If, during that time, you fall in love with and earn the love of a girl whose true beauty equals that of roses, and you both proclaim your love and share a kiss, the spell will break, and you'll return to your handsome self. If not, you'll remain a beast forever."

There was no way this could be real. Someone must have slipped something into my drink at the party—spiked the punch or whatever—and now I was hallucinating. Yes, that had to be it. She and this entire transformation were just figments of an alcohol-induced fantasy. At least I hoped that was the case.

"Are you high on something?! Magic?! Spells?! Stuff like that only exists in movies and fairy tales! Not in real life!"

"Being in denial will only make things worse. For your own sake, you need to embrace every word I'm saying as if it's the gospel. I assure you, there is no other path to healing. The only way forward is to love and be loved by a true beauty; that's your way out."

"No one could love someone who looks like this!"

"A true beauty, equal to that of a rose, could. She could love you despite your appearance. But it will take a lot of work on your part. And don't forget, it's not just about getting her to love you. You have to learn to love her, to care for someone other than yourself—something you've never done in your entire life. Part of me wonders if you're even capable of it."

Part of me wondered that too. After my parents died, my ability to love seemed to fade away. Each day spent with my uncle, listening to his shallow views on life and his ridicule of my parents' choices and the notion of love, chipped away at whatever remained. It slipped further and further until there was nothing left. I couldn't love anymore. I didn't even know what love truly meant. Was it real? Or just a fantasy, as my uncle had taught me?

"Two years, Glen," Kagura said, raising her arms and flapping them like a bird. "Today is May 18th. You have until midnight on that same date two years from now. That's how long you have. Midnight on May 18th, 2009. Remember that."

That's when she started to shrink and transform into something. A bird. An owl to be exact. Then she flew out the window and into the night.

The weight of her words settled heavily on my chest, an anchor dragging me into the depths of despair. Alone in the dimly lit room, I faced my monstrous reflection—a grotesque reminder of my fate. The reality of my transformation began to sink in; this was no dream, no drunken hallucination. I was trapped in this form, caught between man and beast.

What would happen to me now? What would my uncle say? What would Lyon and Jenny say? What would everyone at school think? I already knew the answer to the last question. They would mock and belittle me, taunting me just as I would have done to anyone who looked like this.

I couldn't bear the thought of anyone seeing me like this. I couldn't go back to school. I couldn't go anywhere. I would have to hide away from the world for the rest of my life, never allowing anyone to witness my shame. I would do anything to escape the cruel mockery that would come from anyone who witnessed my newfound appearance. The thought of facing that judgment was unbearable.

I would have rather died.