Beast

Chapter 1

I have managed to lose a baby cow. How, I will never be able to understand. There are no holes in the fence, I checked three times, and the gate is secure.  

I have been out all night, searching for the damn thing, I am exhausted, and my papa will be waking soon. It was one of only three baby cows born this year who survived. So by losing one, I have already made papa very upset. But I’m too tired to go any further, so I ride my horse, Polo, back to the stables. As I was closing the stable door, papa walks in, yawning and stretching. We’ve always been early risers, and so was most of the village. 

He seemed surprised to see me. “I was going to let you sleep in, you worked so hard yesterday.” He pats my shoulder in fatherly affection. It has been just me and my papa my whole life. He said my mother left after giving birth to me, so I never even got a motherly hug. I felt like it was my fault, but he always assured me that no one blamed me and that I was loved.

“I um…” I fidget. 

“Is everything ok sweetie? Why are you up so early anyway?” He chuckles. 

“I noticed one of the baby cows was missing when I was checking on them. I don’t know how, because I closed the gate, I checked, just like you taught me. I was on Polo and I looked everywhere, but he was nowhere to be seen.” I cry. I feel guilty for possibly jeopardising papa’s future profit, our only means of getting food. Something was killing all the farm animals and people had less and less to sell and trade. The ground did not allow for us to grow crops, so dairy, meat and wool were the only things people could trade, and even those are poor quality. The lucky ones had pigs as well, so they make more in selling the meat, and they like to rub it in. Some say the land is cursed; others say it’s just bad luck. But the animals are not killed; they completely vanish, with no trace left behind.

Papa rubs his neck. “Oh dear. That is the sixth in the village to disappear in two months. It is getting worse Esme. We have no sheep left and only six cows. I fear we may have to move.” He looks tired, my papa was only forty-two, yet the strain of farming in these conditions had clearly strained him. Even I was beginning to feel it in my bones and I was only eighteen.

“If you think that is best papa.” I give him a hug, which he returns with a squeeze.

“You remind me so much of your mother Esme.” That makes me smile. I was told my mother was a wonderful woman by my papa, but a little crazy. Many villagers mocked her for her whacko ideas of what kills the animals. She called it a two legged beast. The villagers had immediately dismissed the idea, ranting it was impossible. What I do know is something or someone is taking the animals, and they need to be stopped. “Go back to sleep, you were clearly up most of the night.”

I yawn. “Thank you. Be careful, the cows are jumpy.”

“I always am.” 

I make my way back to our cosy little cottage and up to my small room. It was tiny, you could probably touch one wall and the opposite at the same time, but I loved it. I remove my dress and boots and put on my white night dress. Diving under my blanket I snuggle, getting comfortable, and fall into a blissfully deep sleep.

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I slept most of the day and woke up refreshed and energised. I joined papa in our small kitchen and sat at our homemade table. It smelt like tomato soup and my stomach rumbled in excitement. Tomatoes were becoming increasingly rare since we had nothing to trade for them, along with other fruits and vegetables.

Our village along with three others were overlooked by the Prince living in Blackmoor Manor. It was a creepy, dark building on the other side of the woods. No one ventures there, because the woods are home to man eating wolves. You can hear their mournful howls at night, almost as if they miss something. Some nights they sound happy, and I love it when you can hear the puppies, because they sound so damn cute. They say the prince was banished from his kingdom, but no one knows why. He had the villages built and the rest is history,

“Did you sleep well?” Papa asks, setting a bowl of soup and a spoon in front of me.

“Yes, thank you papa. Any luck on finding the calf?” I sip some soup and sigh in delight as the tomato hotness stroked my taste buds.

“No, nothing. It just vanished. No hoof prints or anything.” He sits opposite me and eats his own soup.

They way these animals keep vanishing and how poor living is, is beginning to push people into crime and desperation, someone needs to confront the Prince, and perhaps the whole village could make it through. We need help, and it’s the guy living in Blackmoor who is responsible for ensuring our safety and wellbeing.

“Papa, perhaps we should go to the Prince?” I ask. His spoon clatters to the ground.

“No, it’s too dangerous, we never, ever, go into those woods!” He coughs, and he doesn’t stop coughing. I run to the sink and get him some water.

“Drink papa.” I force it to his lips. He drinks the whole glass.

“Thank you Esme.” He rubs his chest, wincing. “I am going to bed, could you tend to Polo?” I nod and he stands and goes to his bed, well more like pallet. We cannot afford a comfy mattress. I clean up our bowls then go to Polo. He is excited to see me. We raised him from a foal. Our old mare was another victim of disappearances, but luckily Polo had been weaned and independent before it happened. I fill his water bowl and give him more hay, we ran out of oats for him and cannot afford any more. So we let him graze on the scarce grass sometimes, but the cows are our priority, so they get what little grazing areas there are. I groom him and clean his hooves which were really muddy. 

“That better?” I scratch his ears but he is too interested in eating his hay. I fear we will have to sell Polo for money, which will be heart-breaking because he is a member of our family and my best friend.

Back in the cottage I can hear papa’s snores. The weather is beginning to get cold and it never rains, so everything is frozen solid and freezing to touch. I light a little fire in our fireplace, using as little wood as possible, and settle with my book. I love to read every chance I get. Settling on the floor wrapped in the blanket from my pallet, I read until I fall asleep.

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A/N - I am very sorry for any spelling errors throughout this book.