After The Last Petal Fell

Don't Fear The Reaper

Chapter 2: Part 2
Written by: wise_girl_32
Edited by: @queenofgeeks

The sun had started to set.
The day was leaving and the night was coming. Lafou hadn't thought about how the quickly the darkness would come, but as he looked up at the sky, he knew it would be soon; which was bad, considering he was in uncharted territory. As he trotted through the forest, he could hear once again the movement of
animals around him.

That's when he heard the howls. He urged the horse to move faster, which the middle aged brown mare obliged. At this point they were at full gallop, not wanting to be in the woods any longer. He didn't know if they were close, but he was praying they weren't, and that he was just letting his imagination run amok. Lafou looked around, the forest was getting darker, and the only thing keeping it still fairly light was the glow from the full moon above.

He saw a movement to his left and stopped. He looked but only saw a bush swaying. There was no breeze to move it though. He kept moving before spotting a movement to his right. He looked again, only this time to see nothing.
"You're being silly Lafou," he says to himself, it was something Gaston had said aloud many times.
"There is nothing out there."  Footprints sounded from behind him, getting closer, so he took off running. This is not how he wanted to die.

Galloping down the narrow path, he can see the moon above him, and a little ways into the distance, he could see the castle.

His heart stopped when he heard a loud, predatory growl pierce the air from behind him. His horse whinnies in fear and goes up onto in her rear legs, throwing Lafou off her back, before running riderless into the forest.

Lafou scrambles to get back up before turning around and gasping in shock. There in front of him was a white wolf, its sharp yellow teeth bared, no mistake in his intent towards the plump, delicious looking human.

Lafou started to back away slowly when heard another low growl. He turned to find another wolf snarling at him, this one as black as the nights sky.
In a panic he realized that he was surrounded by wolves, all looking at him the same, hungry, terrifying way.
"Please, please don't eat me," he squeaks, as if they could understand him.
But these were no enchanted creatures, just hungry animals,  all they did was growl and step closer to him. He quickly scans the area around on the ground for something, anything to protect himself. Foolishly he had no musket or bow on his person, and his lack of foresight looked to be his undoing.

He spots a big, dead and leafless  branch right in the nick of time, and just as he's righted himself, with his newfound weapon in hand, a wolf pounced at him.
Using all the force he could muster, he swung the stick at the wolf, knocking the creature away several feet, as well as disorienting it. Another wolf lunges, its intent to rip out the jugular of the prey it had hunted.  Once again Lafou strikes out with the branch, sending another wolf tumbling backwards.

Before he could swing at the other wolves, a slick and silvery one grabs it with his teeth and latches on with an iron like jaw. Lafou stumbles, surprised at the wolf's strength, he grips the stick, knowing it his only form of protection, but the wood slips from his fingers, causing him to wince sharply at the pain of the rough bark running across the skin of his palms.
The wolf dropped the branch, and slowly stalked over to Lafou.

He backed away, cowering in fear. He was going to die. He was sure of that. He was backed into the a stony ledge jutting up from the ground. Instinctively he curled up into a ball, praying that it would be a quick death. Eyes  shut tightly he heard the wolves  growling in an angry unison, and could feel them moving on the ground. He was shaking profusely, even though he had already accepted his fate, the acceptance of death was one he had already made before, hunkered down in a dugout far far away from here, as the sounds of cannons and muskets exploded around him. 

He peaked out and caught the evil, glowing eyes of one wolf ready to lunge at him. It prepared to jump when a large growl sounding over the field stopped it in its tracks.
                     
Gaston walked aimlessly through the forest. He didn't care about anything anymore, and really just wanted it all to end.
The hunger, the cold, the solitude... all of it.
He could take it no longer.
His body was all scratched and the self inflicted wounds stung at the cold night air, but again, he didn't mind. He deserved to feel all this pain. In fact, he didn't deserve to be on the earth.

As he walked, he heard movements.
He knew the source.
The Wolves; they were his direct competition in the forest for food. The pack hunted nearby but he rarely saw them.
He had already cleared this area, their was nothing left.
Why would they be hunting here now?

His eyes widened as he realized who they would be after, what could have drawn them this far over.
Lafou!

His heightened beast senses, the only benefit to this horrid curse heard the howl of the wolves, and from the sounds, he knew that they were close on his tail.
A strange, inexplicable desire to protect overcame him, and without even really choosing too, he found himself running in that direction.
He tried to move fast, but it was hard in his starved, weak state. It felt as if his brittle bones would snap beneath him but miraculously he pushed through it and burst upon the scene right as the Alpha was about strike.
He growled loudly, trying to upscale them and scare them away. They turned away from Lafou who he could see was trembling, and curled up into a ball. Charging over at them he let out another ear piercing roar, his loudest to date, hoping it would be enough to drive them away.

Unfortunately, the pack wasn't  scared of him. They saw just how frail he was, and decided to answer his challenge. In an instant they surrounded him, and began lunging. Gaston claws and swips at them, maiming one. He could feel them biting and pawing at him, opening up old wounds, and giving him fresh ones.

He fully unleashed the animal within, succumbing to it completely.
He continued to fight them, biting and snapping like the animal he had been cursed to be. The pack got scared and scampered away, leaving one lone wolf. He was white as snow,  big and looked to be leader of the pack. Baring his teeth and refusing to back down he lunged at Gaston and bit into his shoulder, causing Gaston to roar out in pain. He grabbed him and flung him off with all his might. The wolf flew the air and hit a tree. Gaston stood up tall and roared at all the other wolves, causing them to scamper away.

Once the animals had left,  Gaston fell to his knees, the adrenaline wearing off, causing the pain the hit him hard. He crumpled completely to the ground, feeling the world spinning. He could feel his blood pouring out through his cuts. He felt his eyes close, and his breath begin slow, as if he were fading. I'm going to die, and that's okay.
He realized, ready to greet death.
Im tired of this, and at least I saved someone whose life has more value than my own.
                     

Lafou watched the fight, shocked to see what had happened.
He couldn't believe Gaston had saved him. He thought he was done having Gaston swoop in to save him, and yet here he was, saving him from death, but thief time with nothing to gain. He watched as the Beast withered to ground, weak and badly wounded.
Lafou was awed, Gaston had committed the first unselfish act of his life.
Slowly he crawled over to him, still shaky from what had happened. He could see all the blood gushing from him, especially the deep bite into his shoulder. 
"Gaston?" He called out, shaking the body of the beast that housed the soul of a man who soul was that of a beast.
"Just let me die in peace..."
Grumbled the monster, eyes still closed.

It was in that moment that Lafou truly saw the magnitude of what had became of someone he used to care so much for.
Gaston was broken.
Lafou felt guilt overtake him.
He turned his gaze up at the moon that shone so brightly in the night sky, before looking at the castle in the distance.
In that moment he made a decision that he knew he probably shouldn't have. He took off his jacket and held it too the wound. An action he had seen many a field doctor perform on a wounded solider.
He whistled for his horse and was relieved when the animal returned.
Reaching around the body of beast, he began to hoist him off the ground and onto the back of the mare. It was something he had done many a times when Gaston became to drunk and would simply pass out.

Lafou surprised at how light he was for such a large creature.
His hands felt nothing but bones beneath the fur, and the 8 foot tall creature weighed nearly the same as his once muscular human form had.

Taking the lead in his hand he began to walk slowly to the castle, the one place he knew with people who had beastly experience.