The Beauty Within the Beast

Chapter Five

Eleanor stood at her bedroom window, staring out at the forest below. Through a gap in the trees, she saw a man walk past, and halt as if only just seeing the huge house to his left. He turned and came towards it. As he got closer, she found that she recognised him; his salt and pepper hair and distinctive, head-bobbing gait. He used to be into breakdancing.

It was Alex. Despite her past feelings for him, a deep feeling of relief washed over her. Now she could be saved, now she could go home.

A second person appeared, ducking through the foliage. His curly black hair was full of leaves. It was Luke. Her parents knew she wasn’t with him.

They walked to the big front door, and Alex rang the bell.

“Alex!” she said, banging on the glass. She cursed Wolfgang for locking it.

He looked up, and she started to call to him again, but she was suddenly pulled away.

“Eleanor, what are you doing,” Wolfgang asked, his voice an angry hiss.

She didn’t answer. She was terrified of what he would do, to her or to Alex and Luke, if he knew that she was trying to get away.

“He knows you’re in here now,” he said, mostly to himself. He looked back and forth from the window to her, as if assessing the situation.

She dared not say a word or even breathe.

He seemed to come to a conclusion.

“Ok. We will let them in. We will talk to them, and you will let them know you’re ok, that you’re staying here for a while until you can get a flat because we are friends. You can even say you work for me if you want. I don’t care what story you make up, just don’t let them know that anything is wrong. If you do…” he paused and grabbed her chin so that she had to look at him, right in his glowing gold eyes.

“I will kill them.”

Eleanor nodded.    

“Come,” he grabbed her arm, his grip tight enough to hurt, and pulled her downstairs. He let go of her at the door, taking a deep breath and straightening his clothes. He squared his shoulders.

“Not a word out of place,” he hissed. He opened the door.

Eleanor plastered a massive smile onto her face and stepped forward.

Alex and Luke stood together in the doorway, shoulder to shoulder, brows set and fists clenched. They looked ready for a fight.

“Hi guys,” she said brightly, letting Alex pull her into a hug. She didn’t want him to let go, just pull her out of the door and then run.

“Where’s mine?” Luke laughed, but it was forced. His eyes were full of anger and concern.

Wolfgang coughed loudly, drawing their attention and making Luke jump away from her involuntarily. She was almost glad of that.

“Oh, this is my…friend, Wolfgang,” Eleanor said.

He noticed the pause and glared at her.

“Who is he?” Alex asked.

For a second misplaced defiance flared in Eleanor’s mind. Why should she have to explain herself to him? He was the one who wanted her out of the house. She shook her head, drawing quizzical glances from the three men.

I’m supposed to be mad at Wolfgang.

“Umm,” her mind raced with ways to explain. “We met at the vets where I volunteer. I helped him with a…dog. It had to be put down. That’s how we became friends.”

Luke’s eyes narrowed. He looked at Wolfgang and then back to her.

“I’ve never seen him there before.”

She cursed herself for forgetting that he worked there.

“You were off when he came in. We came out here to put the dog down, so it could be in a familiar place.”

Wolfgang was silent. She wished he’d say something to help her out. She needed to stop telling lies that could easily be disproved.

“That still doesn’t explain what you’re doing here,” Alex said, his voice accusing. He refused to look at Wolfgang.

“You and Mum told me to get a place. He offered one of his rooms. I’m getting a job and paying rent.”

He didn’t seem satisfied.

“But how well do you know him?” he asked, quieter as if Wolfgang wasn’t standing right behind her.

“Well enough.”

“Why haven’t you been answering your calls?” Luke asked.

“I broke my phone when I went for a run a few days ago.”

Neither of them looked convinced.

Wolfgang stepped closer to her, so her back was against his chest as if to say, hurry up and get this over with.

“What’s with the interrogation guys?” he asked, lightly, almost laughing. But she could hear the low note of anger behind his words. He was growing tired of this, and if she didn’t get rid of them quickly, who knew what he would do.

Alex and Luke laughed too, in a way that was both nervous and aggressive.

“We just want to make sure she’d OK,” Luke said.

Eleanor didn’t like the way he spoke as if she wasn’t there.

“I’m fine,” she said.

“She is perfectly fine,” Wolfgang cut in. “I’m taking very good care of her.”

Luke froze, his eyebrows shooting up.

“What does that mean?” he asked, lunging forward as if to attack him. Alex grabbed his arm and pulled him back.

“It means, I’m fine,” Eleanor said, her hands coming up, gesturing reassuringly. “I…” she hesitated. “I want to be here.”

Luke didn’t look convinced.

“Well. At least take my phone then. So I can still talk to you,” he held it out to her.

“I can’t take your phone,” she laughed, pushing it away. “You need it.”

“I still have my old one. It’s just until you get your own.”

Alex nodded as if giving her permission to take it. She didn’t want to, but Wolfgang’s gaze was burning through her; she needed to make them leave before he flew into a rage.

“Ok,” she took it, tucking it away in her pocket quickly as if Wolfgang wouldn’t notice. She didn’t want him to break this one too.

“Take care,” Luke said shortly, leaning in for another hug but pulling away when he saw Wolfgang’s eyes darken. He turned abruptly and walked away without waiting for Alex.

“Good luck kid,” Alex said, and it sounded as awkward as she felt. He patted her shoulder and turned to follow Luke.

Eleanor gently closed the front door behind them, then slumped against it. The blood drained from her face; her knees were weak.

Wolfgang grabbed the front of her t-shirt, his knuckled digging into her collarbone.

“Don’t you ever,” he said, his voice rough and rasping, his hot breath on her cheeks. “Ever do that again.”

Eleanor nodded; her gaze averted so as not to anger him further. This was not a Wolfgang she wanted to argue with.

“Good. Now follow me. I don’t trust you in that room anymore. Now you’ll sleep in the one next to mine.”

She obeyed.

He led her down the corridor to the second to last bedroom door.

“You will sleep in here from now on,” he told her. There was ice in his eyes and in her chest.

She looked inside. It was pretty much the same as her first room, except this one was done in grey. It gave the room a more elegant and grown-up feel, which she preferred.

“Can I see your room?” she asked.

He scowled.

“Why?”

She shrugged.

“Just because.”

“Ok.”

They went next door. It was nothing like what she’d expected.

The room was small and for the most part bare, apart from a mattress on the floor and a small black goatskin rug. There was a book of music on the windowsill and the windows were flung wide open, without coverings.

A burnt-down candle in a bronze holder sat just inside the door.

“Why is it like this?” Eleanor asked, not understanding him at all. “Why don’t you sleep in one of the better rooms?”

“Because I like it this way,” he growled. “Now go to your room and think about what you’ve done.”

She was about to protest, he had no right to treat her that way-she was not a child, but she saw the angry glint in his amber eyes and the way his hands were curled into fists.

She went into her room; he locked it behind her.

And as rebellion, she set to moving the furniture around.

When Wolfgang finally got lonely enough to come back and get her, he found he couldn’t push open the door. Something was obstructing his way in.

“Eleanor!” he snarled. “Let me in, now!”

“I’m don’t think I should,” she said.

“Why not?”

“Because you’ll be mad at me.”

He calmed down a little, reasoning that he was not helping in the slightest.

“No, I won’t. Just let me in.”

“Promise?”

“I promise.”

She didn’t know how good his promise was. But she decided to risk it before he broke the door off its hinges.

It took a few minutes for her to clear the obstructions out of the way. Wolfgang, impatient, pushed through the door before she’d finished.

She’d pushed the bed so the end was against the open window. On top of it was a pile of blankets, covers, quilts, throws and sheets. Atop this mountain were a few cushions and an extra blanket. Next to this pile was a smaller one, for Wulf.

The curtains had been taken down, so the moonlight would creep in through the windows at night. The lamps were changed for candles, on the windowsill, the bedside table, and the shelf on the wall above where the headboard was previously.

All in all, it was a rather comfy looking mess.

Wolfgang grinned at her.

“I like it,” he said and plonked himself down on top of the heap.

She placed her hands on her hips.

“I’m glad you do but if you don’t mind could you get off my bed? I don’t want it smelling of you tonight.”

He smirked at her.

“Oh yeah?” he said. “I bet you do really. I bet you think I smell delicious.”

She screwed up her face in disgust.

“Eww, no,” she said.

A lie. She found that she lied to herself a lot. Each time she’d been near him so far, she had breathed in his scent and thought how beautiful yet strange he smelled. Like the cold air on a night with a full moon. Like salt and blood and fire. Like a wolf.

He stood up.

“Come downstairs. I have something for you,” he said, sombre again. “Not that you deserve it,” he muttered darkly.

She scowled at him.

Piss off, I’m not a child and I don’t have to earn your kindness.

But she followed him anyway.

He led her down and out into the garden. A small shed had been erected outside, with a wire run attached to the front of it.

Wolfgang opened the little door at the back. Ten chickens were nestled down in the straw that lined the floor.

“So you can have eggs,” he said.

Eleanor hugged him, an involuntary gesture of gratitude. He tensed under her embrace and blushed a deep crimson, disentangling himself from within her embrace. She was gratified by how gentle he was.

“Thank you, Wolf, it’s perfect,” she said.

“You, of course, will oversee their care,” he said, his voice gruff to conceal his delight at her obvious appreciation.

“Did you go and get them? How did you have time to sleep?” she asked, realisation dawning on her.

“No, I had them delivered. I brought them when we went to the market. So I had a quick kip, don’t worry,” he said, waving her aside. He showed her where the feed was stored in the upper part of the shed. She took it from him and scattered the corn through the wires of the run. The hens clucked softly as they scurried around the pen, pecking at the ground.

“You know,” Wolfgang began, idly picking at a large scab on the back of his hand. “You never have told me anything about yourself. It’s always me doing the talking.”

Eleanor smiled to herself. That was exactly the way she liked it.

“Tell then,” he ordered in regal tones, and she couldn’t deny him. Besides, she needed to remind herself who she was, where she’d come from. She was so engrossed in this world now, she was beginning to forget. And it wouldn’t do to stop remembering, every day, who she was. She could get lost in all this.

“When my Mum married my Dad, they moved to Australia and then had me. When I was about five years old my Dad suffered a psychotic break, and completely forgot who he was and who we were. He disappeared. It took a long time for Mum to get her divorce papers and by the time she did...well, there was nothing left for us in Australia. So we just came home.”

“Are there wolves in Australia?” Wolfgang asked.

Eleanor scowled at him. It was a completely absurd response to her opening up to him.

“No. Only dingoes.”

He screwed up his face.

“Ah, Australia’s boring then,” he said dismissively. He didn’t like not being the centre of attention. He wasn’t interested in conversations that weren’t almost entirely about him.

Then why had he asked?

But Eleanor carried on talking, she didn’t care if he didn’t listen, she needed to remember because this person and this place were sapping away the essence of her being; she didn’t feel like herself anymore.

“When I got back and went to school, I was bullied for being tall and skinny, having a strange accent, and being a tomboy but having super long hair. They called me a tranny, which made no sense. No one ever said it but I think it was really because I’m a redhead.”

Remembering now, it was almost funny, but it hadn’t been then. Not when she came home with cuts and bruises. Not when they set fire to her hair.

“Why didn’t you just tell a teacher?” he asked, idly picking at his nails. Things were getting rapidly more and more boring for him.

“I did at first. But I soon learnt that telling just got me into more trouble, and the teachers started thinking I was just a trouble-maker. There was one teacher though, who kept an eye out for me.”

“Did he sort the bullies out for you?” he asked, not because he cared, but because he was preparing to enjoy a bloodthirsty tale of how they’d learnt their lesson.

“No. He knew it would only make things worse. But he taught me how to defend myself, and how to fit in so they stopped picking on me.”

He looked at her with laughter in his eyes.

“You had a crush on him, didn’t you?” he mocked.

Despite her firm resolution not to, Eleanor blushed bright crimson. How did he always manage to read her mind? She hated him for that.

Wolfgang laughed.

“That was him outside, wasn’t it?” he prodded.

How did he make that connection?

“That was my step-dad,” she said.

“Ouch,” he grinned. “Poor you. He went and married your mum.”

She folded her arms and turned away from him.

“Shut up,” she said grabbing the sack of feed and putting it back in its place. She stalked up to the house with him following.

“There’s a thunderstorm on the way,” Wolfgang told her.

Wulf ran up, mewling pitifully. Eleanor bent and picked him up, placing him on her shoulder. He sat down and started cleaning himself, his perfect little tail sticking out for balance.

“How do you know?” she asked, half expecting his answer.

“I can smell it. So can he,” he said, indicating the kitten with a jerk of his head.

“Will you...” she hesitated. “Will you be going out tonight then?”

He didn’t look at her.

“No.”

“Why not?” she asked, shocked. She had almost hoped he’d say that, but now, she couldn’t even believe it.

“It hasn’t rained for a while. The forest is dry as timber. The lightning could start a fire.”

“So? You don’t know for sure, and anyway, you could easily outrun the flames.”

In a moment of wickedness, she imagined him being destroyed by fire. Then she would be free of him forever.

“I’m not going,” he said. “Do you understand? I don’t want to talk about it!”

Eleanor hid her triumphant grin.

“It’s chilly in here, isn’t it,” she said, and shivered, hugging herself and rubbing her bare arms. “I think I’ll start a fire in the fireplace.”

“Don’t have any firewood,” he grunted, catching on.

“Oh, I’m sure I’ll find some somewhere. I’ll go back outside,” she said sweetly, innocently. She bustled out before he could stop her.

“Leave it, Eleanor,” he called after.

She ignored him.

“I said, leave it,” he shouted, but she was already back, her arms full of wood she’d found by the barbecue.

“No, no it’s no trouble,” she said, still smiling. “It’s awfully cold.”

“I said,” he shouted, and, standing up, he sent his chair crashing to the floor. “Leave it alone!”

He knocked the timber from her arms, it scattered across the room.

“When I tell you something,” he said, bringing his face close to hers. “You listen! Understand?” His voice so loud it hurt her ears. Her heart hammered in her chest, but she kept her expression blank.

Eleanor closed her eyes and waited quietly for his anger to subside.

Then she turned away and began to pick up the pieces of wood. Her back was to him, she felt him watch her, and knew she was vulnerable and exposed. But she showed him that she wasn’t scared, just like Alex had taught her. Her bravado belied her trembling hands.

“You’re a bully too, you know,” she told him when she’d finished.

He shrugged. He didn’t care. All he cared about was himself.

“Only the strongest survive,” he said.

“That may be for animals, but human beings are supposed to look out for each other,” she hissed.

Even animals have more compassion than you.

He leaned forward, his hands still on the wall him. He looked right into her eyes. His pupils were shifting and moving, dilating and contracting, unable to make up their mind what they wanted to do. His irises ebbed and flowed like liquid gold.

“Humans,” he began, his voice low and layered with disgust. “Stink.”

And then he laughed. A mocking, teasing, dangerous laugh.

Eleanor ignored him.

“Why are you scared of fire?” she asked.

That took him by surprise.

“I’m not,” he said, sounding irritated, which confirmed her suspicions.

“Hey, it doesn’t matter. Everyone’s scared of something.” She reassured him, patronisingly.

“Not me. I’m not afraid of anything.”

“Except fire.”

He mumbled something; she didn’t hear.

“Fine. It’s alright. I guess you don’t want to talk about it. As usual.”

He glared.

“You’re getting cheeky.”

“Not getting. I always was. I just...was wise about it.”

***

They’d dragged the flat-screen TV from Eleanor’s first bedroom to her new one, which hadn’t had one. They were lying on her blanket-strewn-bed watching a movie. Eleanor wasn’t taking much in; all she knew was that werewolves were a major topic. Wolfgang kept bursting out laughing; he found this portrayal very inaccurate.

Suddenly he twitched violently. He glanced at an invisible watch.

“It’s after twelve,” he groaned. “I’d better go.”

Outside, the thunder growled violently. Another flash of lightning lit up the night sky.

“Out you mean?” she asked.

“No. Just to my room,” he grinned, but it looked more like he was in pain. “Don’t worry.”

He stood up, clutching at his chest, his face twisted into a grimace.

“Oh, and El,” he said, just before he closed her door behind him. “Whatever you do, don’t come in my room.”

She nodded.

She heard him lock his door behind him, and then heard furniture being moved around. It took her a moment to realise that he’d pushed something up against the door, to trap himself inside perhaps, or to keep her out.

She sat quietly waiting for a little while, then switched the TV off and settled down into her comfortable bed. Her hand roamed around for a minute, searching. But Wulf was gone.

In the silence, she could hear Wolfgang’s heavy breathing from the next room. He cried out once, and there was a violent thud against the wall. Eleanor jumped, a small sound of alarm escaping her lips.

“Wolfgang?” she called softly, hoping he’d answer, hoping he’d reassure her that everything was alright.

He grunted loudly in reply.

And then the growling started. It began as a low, soft sound, but it grew and grew until it filled her room and her head and, it seemed, the entire house.

Something crashed against the far wall of his room. Claws scraped down the door.

Eleanor couldn’t imagine what creature made those sounds. Was it Wolfgang? But…how?

Frustrated by the enclosed space, he braced himself and threw himself against the door, shoulder first. It creaked, but wouldn’t budge. Several times he tried this, and then, realising it wouldn’t work, he gave up.

And set up a low, musical, haunting howl.

It was such a soft and sad sound that it automatically brought tears to Eleanor’s eyes. She sat there in silence, listening intently, mesmerised but the beautiful cry. All thoughts of sleep had left her.

So strong was the emotion which the sound awakened in her that she had the sudden and powerful urge to wrench open her door and run to him. To run to this poor lonely, sad creature and take all the pain away.

She stood up.

The creature hardly paused for breath in its song, its sadness pouring forth in one long call of ancient sorrow.

Quietly, Eleanor unlocked her door.

She paused in the hall, listening, her heart racing in her chest. But she was not afraid. Only hypnotised by this heart-breaking plea for company.

Her key fitted into the lock of his door. She turned it gently, it still made a sound, and at that noise, the howl stopped. It left her with a feeling of deep disappointment in her soul.

She pushed the door open.

With a savage cry of joy and ferocious rage, the creature leapt from the room. He pounced straight for her throat. They rolled to the floor, the wolf on top of her, snarling furiously.

“Please Wolfgang, no,” she said, her arms up to shield her face. It was his eyes, that told her the truth.

He stopped, blinking stupidly.

His eyes were hazel, the pupils round and big. It gave him a strangely innocent look.

He moved off her, sitting on his haunches. With a jerk of his head, he indicated her room. His message was clear.

“Get in there.”

She obeyed. Locking the door behind her, she stood against it, holding her breath so that he wouldn’t hear. And yet she knew he must catch the stuttering jerks of her frightened heart.

He whimpered softly; she didn’t understand.

Risking everything it seemed, she leapt for her bed and dived under the covers.

Her blood pounded in her ears, her pulse thumping painfully. But over the roar of adrenaline, she heard his claws clicking on the hard floor outside. The house was so silent she could hear his padded paw steps.

She closed her eyes tight and fell into an uneasy sleep.

***