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There was, once upon a time, an exceedingly brilliant boy whose name was Martin. The life of this boy started out quite ordinary in a quiet little village bordering the great forest of Gotham. However, fate had other plans for him and tragedy swept through his village in the form of a terrible fever. Poor Martin and his family were among those to contract the illness. By the time Martin recovered, the fever would steal his voice away and claim the lives of both his mother and father.For the first time in his young life, Martin felt completely alone. There was little time to mourn, however. Without other family to take him in, the young orphan was soon placed in the servitude and care of a rich farmer to be fed and brought up in exchange for labor. But the man and his wife were very cruel. Even with all their wealth, they were greedy and mean. They became angry when anyone took even a scrap of their bread and despised having another mouth to feed. Because of this, poor Martin, do what he might, received very little to eat. As though this were not miserable enough, the boy was also given chores beyond his years and strength to perform, so that when he failed in them, he was scolded and beaten.In time, the couple grew to further resent the child that never spoke a word of complaint and only scowled at them with insolent eyes whenever he was mistreated. For the couple knew what they did was wrong and the knowing look in Martin's eyes was more than they could tolerate. Eventually, the farmer and his wife concocted a plan to be rid of the orphan boy permanently. A sleeping Martin was startled awake by the rough jostling of his shoulder. He opened bleary eyes and peered up to see it was still pitch black. A glint of light and his bedside candle was lit. By the flickering flame Martin could make out the farmer's wife scowling down at him."Hurry and get up." Her hushed voice growled at him, "Put these on."A patched cloak and worn boots were thrust towards the boy which he immediately donned. Once dressed the woman grabbed him by the wrist and pulled him out into the cold night air. Martin could see the farmer waiting for them a few paces away, his horse was already saddled. Martin was passed off to the farmer, who hoisted him onto the horse. The man whispered something to his wife before getting on behind him. Martin had no idea where they were going so late at night and looked up at the farmer with questioning eyes. The farmer made no sound as he flicked the reigns and the horse trotted forward. Martin looked back to see the farmer's wife watching their departure and waved goodbye to her. She did not acknowledge him, instead turning on her heel and going back into the house. Martin began to suspect that something was amiss, but there was little he could do about the gnawing feeling in his stomach.They rode deep into the forest. It was hardly a comfortable ride, but Martin's weariness proved too great and he dozed off a few times during the journey. It was the halt in motion that finally roused the boy. Martin looked around in confusion. As far as his eyes could see there was nothing but more forest stretching out in all directions. Despite this the farmer dismounted. He pulled Martin from the saddle and told him to begin collecting wood. Martin hurried to comply with the request. He bent down and began scraping together all the nearby-
Clop clop! Clop clop! Clop clop!
Martin turned in horror at the rapidly fading sound. The farmer was leaving! No, he couldn't be left behind! Martin hated his miserable life with the farmer, but to remain in the forest would surely mean death. He ran. As fast as his small legs would carry him. It was not fast enough. His heart thumped wildly in his chest. His lungs burned. Still the distance between them widened filling Martin with desperation and helplessness. There was nothing he could do to possibly catch up. He stopped. The farmer and horse had already disappeared into the distance, leaving Martin well and truly alone. Tears streamed down the boy's face and little hiccupping sounds escaped him. What would he do now?He walked. Stepping over brush and ducking under branches, Martin made his own way through the forest. Maybe if he just kept going, he would find his way back to the village. Everyone would learn what the farmer and his wife had done to him. The people of his village would be appalled. The couple would surely be punished and he would finally be given to live with a kind family. It was these thoughts that kept the boy going.The cold seeped through his patchy cloak and thin clothing. Martin wrapped his arms around himself to ward off the chill. Shivering and miserable, Martin trudged forward with no idea where he was or where he was going. He felt ready to give up and fall asleep. Maybe if he did, he would be reunited with his mother and father. He lay down, propped against a tree. He didn't know how he would find the strength to get up again. The boy's eyes fell closed. He was so tired...
"Wake up, sleepyhead."
Martin's eyes snapped open. He shivered. But this time it wasn't from the cold. He could see several pairs of glowing eyes watching him from a distance, but definitely too close for comfort. A blood-curdling howl sounded from that direction. Martin scrambled to his feet and fled, hearing several somethings tearing through the woods after him. He didn't look back, seeing in his mind's eye the snapping of teeth and razor sharp claws ripping towards him. Terror shocked through him with every pounding step...He tripped. Falling, the sounds of snarling beasts close behind! His body hit the ground hard, knocking the wind from him. Martin waited to be torn apart by the wolves. He sobbed, shutting his eyes tight.But he was okay. The fangs and claws never came. All was quiet around him. Martin lifted his head and looked around. He was safely seperated from the forest by tall iron gates and strong stone walls. He found himself sprawled across a path stretching away before him, up to the stone steps of a towering castle. On wobbling legs, he picked himself up and warily made his way toward it.Maybe he was already dead? How else could he have gotten here? Something about the place also made it feel like walking through a dream. Maybe it was the unnerving silence that permeated the grounds. No sound of birds or animals, not even the sound of the wind could be heard. Maybe it was the way frost touched every visible surface. Icicles hung from every ledge of the castle and ice crunched underfoot, but there was no chill. In fact, Martin felt strangely warm even as he saw his every breath as a puff of mist. If this wasn't a dream, then the place must be enchanted. And enchantments nearly always meant trouble. Martin walked up the steps to stand before a pair of very imposing heavy oak doors. A decorative silver penguin served as the knocker. Martin reached up to it hesitantly, standing on tiptoe. Whatever was inside couldn't possibly be worse than what was in the forest. Could it? He knocked once, twice, thrice before scurrying back away from the door. He would take his chances with the castle, but that didn't mean he wasn't prepared for it to all be a trap. Not after the night he'd had. The doors creaked open. There was nobody there. Martin peered cautiously into the gloomy interior. It was too dark to see anything. Maybe he would be better off waiting outside until morning. With the light of day, he could go back through the forest and find his way home. Maybe that would be better.Martin took a deep breath and stepped inside. He didn't want to go back to his village. There was nothing for him there. His footsteps echoed through the cavernous hall as he walked in, looking around himself for any sign of life. The door shut behind him. Martin whipped around, but there was no one there. Too late to turn back now.Martin turned forward once more and saw a light coming from a room far down the hall. He made his way towards it cautiously, ready to bolt at the first sign of danger. When he got to the doorway, he could see the source of the light was a welcoming fire burning away in a grand fireplace. Set before it was a large, plush chair with a purple blanket draped over the side. The cozy sight caused Martin to yawn. He was still so tired and the adrenaline rush he'd had before was wearing off. Maybe he was too tired to care if this wasn't a good idea. Martin clambered up into the chair, curled up, and wrapped the blanket around himself. As he fell asleep, he could swear he heard whispery voices all around him.
•°☆°•
Martin didn't know where he was, only that it was cold and dark. He turned in circles searching for anything in the inky blackness surrounding him, but there was nothing. He couldn't see. He couldn't scream. Martin began to panic.
"My apologies." A voice called to him, "It's been awhile since I've had any visitors."
It was the same voice he'd heard in the woods. The one that woke him in time to escape the wolves. Martin turned toward the source and a greenish light emanated from that direction. He blinked and the darkness disappeared, leaving everything bathed in an oddly greenish glow.
"That's better, isn't it?" asked the voice which belonged to a tall man with warm brown eyes, dressed all in green, and a too wide grin across his face.
Martin nodded. He was still feeling uneasy, but at least his surroundings had greatly improved from the pitch black before. He and the man were surrounded by books, full shelves stretching away from them in all directions. There was something about the place that didn't seem quite tangible. Maybe it was the odd green glow. Martin wondered where exactly this place was and how he had gotten here.
As if in answer to his thoughts, the man asked, "What has branches and leaves but no bark?"
*The library.* Martin thought.
"Correct!" The man exclaimed.
*How?*
Martin couldn't figure it out. He hadn't said anything. He couldn't. So how did this man know he'd answered the riddle?
"I've always liked it here myself." said the man ignoring his inquiry, "Perfect place to get away and think. You never know what you might find in a library"
To Martin, it seemed an odd thing to say. Everyone knew what to expect to find in a library. Lots of dusty, old books.
"You're thinking too literally. The clues are in the words, kid." The man sighed, "Well, I don't have time to explain this now. You better wake up before the Beast does. Eat the breakfast waiting for you and leave. Believe me, you don't want to meet the Beast."
•°☆°•
Martin opened his eyes. Sure enough, set before him, was a small table laid out with a breakfast. His eyes widened. There were stacks of sweet cakes and a pile of muffins. Beside these were several little jars containing different jams and spreads. A bowl of berries sat, spilling over with a few rogue blueberries which found their way to the edge of the table. There was also eggs and bacon and sausages enough for an entire family to eat. It was more food than Martin had ever seen. Was it really for just him to eat? His mouth watered at the sight and Martin wasted no more time in wondering. He remembered the strange man in green and the warning he gave before he woke. It might be dangerous to waste time eating, but the child's stomach growled loudly and he couldn't resist the feast sitting before him. He was told to eat quickly and leave and that was exactly what Martin intended to do.Martin uncurled himself and sat up fully. Without further ado, he swiped up a cake and tore into it ravenously. And then another and another. He grabbed a jam jar. Martin didn't bother to spread the jam neatly across muffin or cake and instead drank it directly from the jar making a mess across his face. Next, he dug into the bacon and eggs, licking grease from his jam sticky fingers.After he had gobbled up as much food as he could hold, Martin leaned back in his chair with a sigh. He was so full, but he was also very thirsty. He wished there was something to wash down everything he had just eaten. As if hearing his wish, a purple porcelain teapot and delicate matching teacup appeared by magic on the table. Martin eyed them warily. It all seemed too good to be true which most certainly meant that it was. But he was thirsty...He cautiously picked up the magic teapot and poured its contents into the waiting teacup. It all behaved as ordinary teapots and teacups should behave which was somehow more surprising than if it hadn't. The aroma of tea wafted through the air and Martin inhaled deeply. It smelled really good. He picked up the teacup and blew on it. After awhile, the boy dipped his tongue in the drink to test its temperature before finally gulping it down. It tasted bitter and Martin made a face. Tea never tasted as good as it smelled. He never understood why adults liked it so much.Thirst finally quenched, Martin set the teacup back down at the edge of the table. He wiggled out of the chair ready to depart, but lost his balance and grabbed the table for support. The table shook amd tipped just a bit. No big deal. Except...The teacup fell with the clash of breaking porcelain. Martin squeezed his eyes shut. Oops. He opened his eyes. Shards of teacup glistened accusingly up at him. Feeling he'd lingered long enough, Martin stepped around the mess he'd made and made his way back to the dark hall.
GRRRRrrrrrrraaAAAAAAAAAAH!!!
The inhumanly loud bellow shook through the castle. Martin's bones turned to jelly. He wanted to run, but he was frozen in place by terror. All he could think of was the warning about the beast.
"You don't want to meet the Beast."
He did not want to meet whatever had made that sound. Survival instincts finally kicked in and Martin propelled himself forward. He dashed to the door of the castle, tugging at it to open. It wouldn't budge an inch. Martin panicked. It had to open! He had to get out of here! Suddenly, a cold hand gripped his shoulder, fingers digging into his flesh like claws.