Here is the second installment. Hope you like it!

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TMI TUESDAY!!!

It's been forever and a day, but I'm back to writing Rumbelle fanfiction. The muse returned to me the other night in a dream. I'm doing TMI today, so please drop me a line if you want to chat. Here's my new verse:

Desperate Souls: Chapter One

Summary:

Notes:

I barely heard the pathetic little rap on the front entrance of the Dark Castle. Whenever I spin, I fall deep into a vortex. To forget. But the faint knocking continued and after I magicked myself down to the foyer, I snapped my fingers and the door swung open.

A cloaked creature tumbled at my feet unable to rise.

“What the hell do you want?” I demanded. The rain was lashing against the windows, the clouds rumbled above, and my visitor was soaked to the bone. “Well?” My shout echoed throughout the castle.

“Please, Dark One, please help me! I didn’t know who else to go to!” A familiar feminine voice responded.

I flicked back her hood, curled my finger under her chin, and raised her head up. Belle of Avonlea was humbled before me, bruised and bloodied. She was one of those pesky heroes who roamed the countryside, bent on liberating the people from the clutches of us villains. Snow White and Prince David led the heroes. How Belle of Avonlea joined them, I don’t know, but from the start she was different from the rest. She rarely carried a weapon; she preferred books and trickery to brute force.

I’ve had a few encounters with the sly little minx. Once, I was on my way to the Evil Queen’s to pay a call and Belle ambushed me out of nowhere, and plunged a dagger in my back. The one time she carries a weapon! Well, it wasn’t much of an ambush. I could sense her presence, heard her panting for breath, her feet hitting every infernal twig in the whole damn forest. She wanted to slay the beast.

I jerked the dagger out of my skin and spinning around, pinned her against the tree. Were she anyone else, I’d have slit her pretty throat right then and there. Let her blood soak the ground, a warning for the heroes of what awaited them if they attempted something so foolhardy. But I peered into her eyes and despite her intentions, her heart and spirit were pure. She only wanted to do good. Rid the world of evil and whatnot. The deep calleth unto the deep, my perverse little soul was drawn to hers.

Rather than cut her, I leaned in and kissed her softly. She gasped against my lips and when I backed away, releasing her, she didn’t wipe my kiss off. Actually, she licked her lips. Not my finest moment, for all I knew she would tell others I had grown soft and had feelings for her. I didn’t; I just wanted to ruffle her feathers. Vex her, confuse her, tease her. Belle stood there, palm on chest, breathing heavily, befuddled at my actions. She then scampered off, back to her group of heroes.

The next time I saw her, I was going to and fro following the heroes spying on them, fully invisible. None of them knew I was there. They couldn’t. Well, Belle of Avonlea somehow detected I was there. She kept looking in my direction, wearing the identical expression she wore after I kissed her. She couldn’t see me, but her pure soul sensed my wretched one. She could have alerted the heroes of my presence. Should have, if she had any loyalty to them. Not that they could have done anything to subdue me. But she could have warned them to stop talking. Yet she didn’t. She let them ramble about their futile plans. I went on my way, knowing precisely how to thwart their future strikes against me.

The third time, I had taken on the form of one of their own and heard the fools discussing invading my Dark Castle. To take me down. Make me their slave. Control me and have all the power in the realm. Belle of Avonlea claimed to know how, having gleaned special knowledge from an ancient book in an obscure language. It was a ruse. She blatantly lied to them and they believed her. They failed.

That last encounter was over a week ago.

“Please, they will kill me. Please.” Belle whimpered.

Tears eked out from beneath her purple swollen lids. Her lovely face was bloodied and if I wasn’t all knowing, I wouldn’t have recognized her. She wouldn’t last much longer on her own. Hell, she was half-dead already. Only the gods knew what trouble she had gotten herself into. Or what trouble she was about to get into now that she was in my custody.

I couldn’t bear her crying. I scooped her up in my arms, silently commanded the door to close, and carried her up to one of the bed chambers. Not that I felt sorry for her. Oh no, for I had great plans for Belle of Avonlea.

Desperate Souls: Chapter One

Summary:

Notes:

I barely heard the pathetic little rap on the front entrance of the Dark Castle. Whenever I spin, I fall deep into a vortex. To forget. But the faint knocking continued and after I magicked myself down to the foyer, I snapped my fingers and the door swung open.

A cloaked creature tumbled at my feet unable to rise.

“What the hell do you want?” I demanded. The rain was lashing against the windows, the clouds rumbled above, and my visitor was soaked to the bone. “Well?” My shout echoed throughout the castle.

“Please, Dark One, please help me! I didn’t know who else to go to!” A familiar feminine voice responded.

I flicked back her hood, curled my finger under her chin, and raised her head up. Belle of Avonlea was humbled before me, bruised and bloodied. She was one of those pesky heroes who roamed the countryside, bent on liberating the people from the clutches of us villains. Snow White and Prince David led the heroes. How Belle of Avonlea joined them, I don’t know, but from the start she was different from the rest. She rarely carried a weapon; she preferred books and trickery to brute force.

I’ve had a few encounters with the sly little minx. Once, I was on my way to the Evil Queen’s to pay a call and Belle ambushed me out of nowhere, and plunged a dagger in my back. The one time she carries a weapon! Well, it wasn’t much of an ambush. I could sense her presence, heard her panting for breath, her feet hitting every infernal twig in the whole damn forest. She wanted to slay the beast.

I jerked the dagger out of my skin and spinning around, pinned her against the tree. Were she anyone else, I’d have slit her pretty throat right then and there. Let her blood soak the ground, a warning for the heroes of what awaited them if they attempted something so foolhardy. But I peered into her eyes and despite her intentions, her heart and spirit were pure. She only wanted to do good. Rid the world of evil and whatnot. The deep calleth unto the deep, my perverse little soul was drawn to hers.

Rather than cut her, I leaned in and kissed her softly. She gasped against my lips and when I backed away, releasing her, she didn’t wipe my kiss off. Actually, she licked her lips. Not my finest moment, for all I knew she would tell others I had grown soft and had feelings for her. I didn’t; I just wanted to ruffle her feathers. Vex her, confuse her, tease her. Belle stood there, palm on chest, breathing heavily, befuddled at my actions. She then scampered off, back to her group of heroes.

The next time I saw her, I was going to and fro following the heroes spying on them, fully invisible. None of them knew I was there. They couldn’t. Well, Belle of Avonlea somehow detected I was there. She kept looking in my direction, wearing the identical expression she wore after I kissed her. She couldn’t see me, but her pure soul sensed my wretched one. She could have alerted the heroes of my presence. Should have, if she had any loyalty to them. Not that they could have done anything to subdue me. But she could have warned them to stop talking. Yet she didn’t. She let them ramble about their futile plans. I went on my way, knowing precisely how to thwart their future strikes against me.

The third time, I had taken on the form of one of their own and heard the fools discussing invading my Dark Castle. To take me down. Make me their slave. Control me and have all the power in the realm. Belle of Avonlea claimed to know how, having gleaned special knowledge from an ancient book in an obscure language. It was a ruse. She blatantly lied to them and they believed her. They failed.

That last encounter was over a week ago.

“Please, they will kill me. Please.” Belle whimpered.

Tears eked out from beneath her purple swollen lids. Her lovely face was bloodied and if I wasn’t all knowing, I wouldn’t have recognized her. She wouldn’t last much longer on her own. Hell, she was half-dead already. Only the gods knew what trouble she had gotten herself into. Or what trouble she was about to get into now that she was in my custody.

I couldn’t bear her crying. I scooped her up in my arms, silently commanded the door to close, and carried her up to one of the bed chambers. Not that I felt sorry for her. Oh no, for I had great plans for Belle of Avonlea.