Of Roses & Angels

Chapter 2: Where the forest offers sweets

"RUN!" Papa screamed as he shoved me away from the white face and onto the street to our right.

I stumbled, yet caught myself fast as I began running, terror and fear coursing through my veins. I lifted my skirts, not caring if I showed enough leg to make the old grannies shriek.

"Not so fast." The smooth voice in my ear spoke as cold hands grabbed my waist, lifting me up for a moment. I crashed into the stone road, my ears ringing and my head aching. Copper filled my mouth as I felt my tongue bleeding.

I whimpered.

"Now, now we don't want her skin torn." The same Storyteller's smooth voice came closer as a cold finger lifted my chin and a pair of hands pulled my hair back.

The eyes were gleeful, feeling the tension and no doubt the blood that was about to be spilled.

I am going to die.

The thought rattled me and I struggled against my captors, trying to break free.

"Don't fight us Belle. You are the heroine of our new Story after all." The same finger drew small circles around my chin and lips.

I spat at him, my lips curling in defiance from both recklessness and fear. "My name is Rose."

The blood and saliva landed on the side of their cheek and a forked tongue appeared, licking it away. My stomach tightened as I caught a glimpse of the true monsters.

The Storyteller smiled as if being caught made them happier. "But not for long." They got up and the other who had caught me lifted me up effortlessly, dragging me back towards the gathered people.

And Papa.

He knelt, arms held apart by two guardsmen from the Storytellers' guard escorts. Their armor was gleaming white and they also wore black-furred belts, which held their swords. Their heads were covered in helmets that bore the resemblance of different animals. Theirs were shaped like wolves.

"No! Not my daughter! We have given enough! Leave us alone!" Papa screamed, thrashing against their strong hold.

The Storyteller with the bloomed rose still in hand made a wide circle, gathering the attention of the other people, who from what I could see still watched us with silent horror. He stopped and strode towards Papa.

"Interfering with the sacred work of Story-keeping is punishable by death. Your daughter is important...René Villeneuve."

I kicked and shouted as the Storyteller advanced closer and closer with each word towards my father. "No! Please stop!"

Papa stared up at the monster who smiled down at him. "You will pay for this."

The Storyteller tilted his head to the side as if he was curious. "Will I?"

I blinked, breath caught and then-

Their hand thrust into Papa's chest-

It was pulled out, red to the elbow, holding...

The heart beat once then stopped.

"A life for the rose." The Storyteller announced proudly and turning to me-

He bit into my father's heart.

I roared, jerking and pulling, cursing and screaming. I felt my heart beating frantically as the Storyteller approached me, blood still coursing down their mouth.

"Marvelous, so beautiful and strong. You will be-"

His severed head fell in front of me.

Screaming, the Storytellers released me as they all clutched their hooded heads. Some fell to the ground thrashing like fish out of the water. Before me stood Mr. Carlyle, holding an ax, breathing heavily.