Rosalind - Beauty and the Beast meets Dracula retelling

51- Shadow Woman

Rosalind left the book on Caspian's desk and ran out of the room. As she frantically made her way down the hall, a sound of weeping, faint and child-like, followed her. She slapped her hands against the wall coming to an abrupt stop. Looking over her shoulder, her gaze fell upon the open door of the study. The crying got louder, yet still remained nearly phantom-like. For a brief moment of madness, Rosalind thought Bellua was weeping.

"Where is my goddamn mind?" she cried. "You have become a drug I must consume," Rosalind doubled over, "and the poison in me. Without you, I am torn to pieces, yet with you I..." I come alive. "I may as well be damned." Searching for her dignity, she saw nothing in the hall but spare flickers of light. It was the smooth areas of the wall that soothed her slightly. She ran her palm along them, knowing this was all Caspian's doing. "Why did I..." she winced, "touch him like that?" Bringing her hands to her chest, she felt the night usher fragments of the violin towards her, like a father ushering his daughter towards the arms of her beloved on their wedding day. 

She arched her head up, listened to the sound. The violin created a pitiful tune as it was plucked. It reminded her of drops of water falling over an old wooden flood.

Over the sound of the strings, a phantom-voice uttered, "Who is it you desire? You act like it is one," the voice swayed towards Troy's room, "yet it is the other," then it drifted towards the direction of the lord's.

Rosalind brought her hands to her ears, "There are whispers in the walls and monsters in the halls."

And the shadow replied, "The only monster here is you. I know who you love and who you use to convince yourself that you are still good."

Rosalind swiped at the air and swore, "Goddamn you!" Picking up her skirt, she fled down the long hallway and bolted into her own room.

The plucking of the violin was a staccato beat in her mind. Rosalind tossed herself on the bed and wrapped her arms around her pillow. The melody, though too far away to logically be heard, was as loud as if it were being played right next to her. The abrupt sound morphed into that of a faint chord as bow hit string. The notes floated around her like a bird. They grew into a small melody and circled her head. From around the canopy, small flakes of snow fell and she was oblivious to it all. The flakes, no bigger than the heads of pins, melted as soon as they touched the floor.

The vision of Caspian and her played on and on, threatening to drive her mad. My mind restates what my soul cannot erase, she thought as she brought the pillow over her face, trying to drown the world out.

Hot tears were squished uncomfortably against the pillow. Troy's beautiful face broke into her thoughts of Caspian. The younger lord looked at her with a melancholy gaze. When the image of him reached for her, Rosalind screamed in frustration into the pillow.

Upon the windowsill, a tiny black bird perched. The little bird ruffled its feathers, trying to shake the flakes of snow off. With black, bead-like eyes, it looked into the room and cocked its head in confusion.

Rosalind grabbed her pillow and hurled it against one of the posts, causing the snowfall to cease. Tears stained her pretty face yet she did not know who she was crying over, Caspian or Troy.

A tapping came from the window, distracting her. Rosalind wiped her eyes and sniffled. The little bird was almost invisible against the backdrop of the night but she was able to see a bright shimmer in its eyes, something shiny and red.

She stood and made her way wearily to the window. When she placed her hand on the glass, the tiny bird remained motionless. "Have you no fear?" she asked. "We're all monsters here."

The bird cocked its head again then gave out a chirp – high pitched and silvery. Around it, the snow grew heavy and coated its black wings white.

"Poor creature." As Rosalind went to open the window and let the small bird in, an invisible hand grabbed her wrist and pulled her back.

"Be careful who you let in," the phantom woman's voice, familiar to Rosalind now, washed over her.

Rosalind flinched as the tiny bird began to morph into an unnaturally large magpie with flames for eyes and a caw so deep and raw, she imagined that was what hell sounded like. The bird began to use its long, sharp beak to tap at the glass. The sound blending horrible with the continuing melancholy of the violin.

Startled, Rosalind stepped back and clamped her hands over her ears.

The shadow-woman slid out to her and stood between her and the bird. "Love," she said as she bowed her crown-wearing head, "will tear you apart."

Rosalind clamped her hands harder over her ears, yet everything the phantom said was crystal clear. The fear she once carried for the woman was no longer heart-stopping. When she looked upon the woman's face, Rosalind knew who she was addressing...those eyes, that hair, the voice, her face, Rosalind was speaking to her own self.

"Whoooo?" asked the misty figure. "Whoooo do you love?" The phantom swirled once around Rosalind. "I know the answer. Why won't yooooou admit it to your self?"

Rosalind lowered her hands and rushed to the hearth. "Leave me!" she grabbed the poker and swung it at the figure as she had once before.

The misty woman floated ethereally yet kept her distance. "Making me go away will not make this desire and madness go away. You are playing a dangerous game, wanting father and son."

Rosalind stepped forth and swung again. "I do not need your words!"

As the shadow-woman fluttered backward, she spoke, "But you need my logic since yours is lost somewhere in oblivion."

Rosalind swung the poker across the phantom's mid-section causing her to wince and float back to the wall before vanishing into the cracks.

Dropping the poker with a clank, she fell heavily to her knees and brought her hands to her face. Rosalind knew she had to stop the way he felt for Caspian and there was only one way to do so, by being with Troy.