Beasty | First Draft Sample

08

        "Soo, ow iz zee Castle you live een?"

I shrugged, an amused smile on my lips as I regarded a curious looking Madame Crawfort.

Cashing in another dress I handed the angry looking young woman her purchase in the boutique's bag and let out a breath of relief when she rolled her eyes and walked away.

"It's beautiful. The scene, the corridors, the halls, it's absolutely fairy-tale like," I sighed as I watched Abigail serving another customer, the woman seemed to be struggling between buying a black pair of lingerie and red.

Personally, I'd buy both. The more Lingerie the better. And I didn't think that because of the attention it brought from the male species— a soft chuckle left my lips when I noticed her eyeing a pair of blue ones now. — No, in fact it was more about the wearer, about how pretty it made the wearer feel in her own skin.

After all, every girl deserved something pretty. Something just for her own self.

"Look at zat! She brought all zree," Madame Crawfort whispered happily beside me, and I chuckled as I watched the woman walking over to the counter, her eyes shining brightly while she held all three pairs in her hands.

Placing them on the counter she grinned at me and Madame Crawfort, "My husband is going to love these!"

"Ow e vill, I am sure ov eet," Madame Crawfort giggled, plopping another bonbon into her mouth as she leaned back and enjoyed the crazy traffic that seemed to be in the boutique today.

Dazzling a smile almost bursting with raw anticipation, the woman rushed out of the boutique's door and I felt Madame Crawfort turn towards me, "Ow you zink zat zee castle iz fit for a fairy tale I do not knoo, but I do know von zing, zat castle is cursed, and ze only zing you vill get vout of eet — are nightmares."

I shuddered as I pondered over what the French woman had just said. Madame Crawfort did have a point. Maybe there was a need to believe all the stories about the castle.

If werewolves were real. Why not ghosts? Why not everything else?

The awful truth was beginning to dawn on me.

Anything was possible.

"Ooow zeez bonbons are noot right for my stomach, I vill be back," Madame Crawfort suddenly whispered before rushing towards the staff's rest room.

Amused, I turned to look at the packet of bonbon.

Nearly empty.

"That woman doesn't know when to stop,"

My eyes snapped to the person who spoke up and I grinned at Abigail, "That's true, I admit."

"Today's morning lecture was worthless, I barely got half an hour of its information in my brain."

Nodding in agreement I slumped further into my seat.

"Jaydin going back home for the holidays?" I asked as I watched the rest of the staff serve the customers.

Abigail shook her head as she leaned against the front counter, "No. He'll be at the Chillston Manor. Professor Heirnzberg's going over to Scotland for a vacation so he gets the place all for himself — and well that creepy butler he keeps talking about"

I cringed, "It's always the butlers."

Suddenly Abigail tensed, and I cocked an eyebrow up, waiting for her to crack and just blurt it out.

"You remember I was going to tell you something at the Willow tree that day?"

My eyes widened with remembrance and I smiled, nodded, "Yes?"