Corla was as calm as she could. Well, as calm as any beast could. It was nearly midnight and the pain that once overwhelmed her was now only a tingle on her fur covered skin. She didn't know what was going on with her servant, but she knew whatever it was, it wouldn't against the plans. Corla slowly bit her lower lip with her canines, but though it stung, she didn't stop. She sat on the ground by her indoor garden, legs spread wide open, while her arms were on her sides. Her breathing was ragid but she hardly noticed as she kept all of her attention on the rose.
It still wasn't wilting, though she knew the moment for it to start would be soon. She watched it and tried to figure out why it only got older. The other roses all died easily. They began wilting after a day of them not looking themselves. But something was different about the rose that still wasn't wilting.
Corla had looked at it before the day after the previous full moon. She was fully transformed and full of power, but it looked beautiful. It's petals were spread wide open, as if it were reaching for the light of the sun to let it open up more. Corla felt peace whenever she looked at it that day, but that peace didn't last never long. The next day, the rose was growing old and grey. She was confused with it at first because it looked fine the previous day when she was the beast. It was odd to see an old flower when the girl was now looking her human self again. She thought about it for a while until there were different things to think about. There were plans she needed to get to before she changed into the beast again. She was sure the flower would begin wilting the next day, but it didn't. In fact, it just stayed the same. It looked old, wrinkly and grey. The red was at the center of the flower. Corla still didn't understand what it could mean, even when her servant was watering them daily.
Nothing made sense to her anymore. As she sat on the floor as the beast she was, she knew that something was different about the rose. Either it was a weird spell or something that set it off, or it was something she needed to dig deeper into. She had tried to ask her servant about it once, but the old bag didn't say much in response.
"It will get back on track in no time, dear." Corla didn't try to believe it. It had been days since she even talked to her servant about it. The full moon was tonight and Corla knew it was her first and last day of being her powerful self.
Before she knew it, she was bolting to the front entrance. Ever since her servant had brought her to the castle, she was told never to go out into the world. People were dangerous, she said. Corla already knew all of that, but she could care less. If someone were to try to kill her, she'd have her own back.
Corla threw both of her arms at the door so she could smash it down, but all she got was electricity going through her veins in her arms. She clenched her jaw as a grunt escaped her throat. Then she broke the door open by kicking it with both of her feet. She landed on her back, but got up before she could feel the shock of pain.
The air outside was nice and pleasant for the girl, but something didn't seem right about it. Though there were plants every inch of the way to the far out gate that grabbed her attention, she felt like she was stuck in place. She took a step forward and heard wild screams coming from every direction. Her head shot left and right, trying to find who was screaming. She covered her ears with her paws but the screams just got louder. She took another step forward, but all that happened was the screams getting louder. She felt sparks of electricity run their way through her body before she backed up into the castle. The screams slowly turned into whispers and the shocks turned into limb vibrations. Corla opened her eyes and blinked a few times before shaking her head left and right. She didn't see anyone outside of her doors, so who could have screamed. She took a step closer to the outside but something stopped her. Instead, she closed the front entrance and made her way back to the rose in her indoor garden.
Maybe now it had some sort of answer.
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The Dying Rose
Fantasy**SLOW UPDATES** The Beast had always been just a made up story that villagers would share about for fun around fires. They didn't know what it even looked like, or who it really was. Corla had been taken away from her home when she was six years o...
