Handsome & the Hideous
XII
He hadn’t realised his memory of her was real,
assuming it had been a nightmare delusion
while on death’s door.
Now she was dressed like a noble lady,
her monstrous face hidden while her clothes
highlighted what feminine figure she had left.
She was stood stiffly, at attention,
enormous hands clasped together in front.
Her nervous energy contradicted her presence
but he couldn’t force his legs to move forward.
‘H-hello,’ he rough, husky voice boomed
into the evening, ‘Welcome to my castle.’
He almost ran, but invisible hands pressed
against his back, preventing any retreat,
but not forcing him forward.
‘Thank you,’ he squeaked, stinging his pride
enough to clear his throat in annoyance.
‘This place saved my life.’
She shuffled, taking a step closer,
then retreated again, raising her head.
He spied an apple lift towards her, insistent.
He caught the answering gleam in her eyes
beyond the cloth barrier,
separating them from the outside world.
‘Would you care to join me for dinner?’
The dining hall looked different from the
rest of the castle, its furniture not quite
matching the castle’s original décor.
The tables were sturdy but bland,
the expected occupants of inns or cheap taverns.
There was four lined up together, each able to sit
six people, but not filling even half of the hall’s capacity.
Candles were the only light source,
placed to form a path leading to the dinner.
Already wax leaked from some, a pool forming
at their base and creeping across the floor.
They walked over cracked marble, perfectly polished
but containing deep dents hiding in the dim light,
almost tripping him over.
Ancient candelabras illuminated a buffet of food,
a mixture of fresh fruits, vegetables and cooked wolf meat
invaded his senses, distracting him from the
clicking of the creature’s nails echoing at his side.
There was only two chairs, placed opposite each other
at the centre of the feast.
He recognised the design of one from the village’s inn,
a ram’s head carved on top.
The other chair was a throne, large and imposing.
Its frame was made of stone, a little worn from age,
but its carvings of kings and queens still distinguishable.
The padded red velvet material supporting the back and seat
looked new, restoring an ancient item to respect.
The creature glided towards the throne,
her posture regal and confident,
slipping into a long-forgotten skin
he couldn’t help admire.
She didn’t eat, just sat in silence,
eyes penetrating through her veil
to study his every move.
The food was delicious, but he barely tasted it,
too aware of the predator sitting opposite, waiting.
They didn’t speak, that first time,
too tense and unsure of the other’s motive.
She seemed intent on keeping him here,
while he longed to kill her, and take all
that was hers as his own.
Scribbled Thoughts 