## Story 1 ![32-1.png](/uploads/32_1_baad7d6e02.png) WHY HAS THIS HAPPENED?
The frightened beast wanders the wood as though urged forward by an invisible force.
Its blackened hide is scarred from stoning. Its claws broken and chipped.
It has no one to soothe its wounds, and that pain brings back the abuse it endured in town.
The path ahead is brimming with an eerie force, as if something may jump out of hiding at any time.
With quickened heartbeat and moistened eyes, the beast tenses.
Yet it pushes forward in search of peace.
There comes a light. Then another.
Softly glowing orbs begin to surround the beast.
It immediately seeks safety within the darkness.
Soft giggles tickle the beast's ears.
It rubs its eyes and sees small boys and girls with vividly-colored butterfly wings fluttering in midair.
They are delicate, their limbs long and lithe.
Their faces are perfectly sculpted, with eyes like jewels.
Suddenly, the beast unearths long-buried knowledge.
The creatures that float before it...are faeries. ## Story 2 ![32-2.png](/uploads/32_2_888cfb8984.png) The beast musters its courage and speaks to the floating cluster of light:
"ARE YOU FAE?"
The beast has only known the pain and anger of others, yet it now smiles as though seeing an old friend.
As it does, it recalls an old saying:
The more delightful a faerie, the more malevolent its heart.
One must always take great care around such creatures.
Just then, a faerie speaks.
"We have many friends here, Beast! We would get to know you better!"
Its voice is a tinkling bell. Merry.
Terrified of such baseless kindness, the beast shakes its head.
"I'M BAD AT TALKING."
Exchanging glances, the giggling faeries motion for the beast to come closer.
The beast so badly wants to surrender and join in their play.
But when it notices the savagery in its own clenched fist, it casts its eyes downward.
"I AM TOO DARK. TOO BIG. TOO STUPID. TOO SLOW."
"AND TOO UGLY. SO VERY UGLY."
Perhaps the faeries will leave once they know the beast has nothing to offer.
But instead, they giggle with delight. "We don't mind!" they cry. "We don't mind at all!"
Their smiles set alight a faint flicker of hope within the beast's heart.
Perhaps they are willing to accept her for who she truly is.
"Show us who you are!"
She feels light-headed. Her heart pounds.
Beneath the gentle moonlight, she takes a large step forward. ## Story 3 ![32-3.png](/uploads/32_3_a0c7995ce8.png) The beast steps from the darkness toward the light of the fae.
Moonlight lays bare the abyss of its body.
It timidly opens its eyes and beholds a gaggle of faeries.
Their faces are twisted with sick delight.
"Ew! You're so ugly! So ugly!"
"You're neither faerie nor daemon!"
"You're not even human! What are you!?"
Their shrill laughter overwhelms the beast, and its heart is instantly consumed by a ferocious storm.
Faeries flit around the beast's nose as though emphasizing its hideousness.
"Gosh! Aren't you embarrassed to be walking around like that?"
"Why would we ever be your friend!?"
The sweet, cherubic faeries turn the beast into a source of utter mockery, shredding its heart in the process.
IT IS NOT THEIR FAULT. I SHOULD NOT HAVE SPOKEN. HOW I LOATHE MYSELF.
Heartbreaking emotions pour from the beast in a howling maelstrom.
The lights go out.
As the beast swipes the air, the faeries vanish in the blink of an eye.
Beautiful butterfly wings explode in the moonlight.
But the impulse is still there.
I HATE YOU. YOU'RE LIARS. LEAVE ME ALONE!
But the beast only thinks these things, for it cannot find the will to speak.
It continues its rampage, shrieking in unholy fury as the entire forest falls before the power of its frenzy. ## Story 4 ![32-4.png](/uploads/32_4_54c735dbb6.png) Time passes. How much, none can say.
When the beast comes to its senses, it beholds a terrifying scene.
Wings and limbs are torn to shreds. Small bodies lie on the ground, their faces frozen in fear.
The beast is drenched in sweat. It cannot keep from shaking.
The beast runs, then. And as it runs, the remaining faeries give chase with furious rage.
It runs and runs until its heart is near to bursting.
Finally, it loses its pursuers and enters an odd, crumbling ruin.
It is silent here; even the insects are given no voice. At last, the beast stops shaking.
It finds no jeers from the townsfolk here. No whispering of the trees.
The tranquility is comforting; it offers an embrace gentler and warmer than any other soul could offer.
The beast breathes a sigh of relief.
In that moment, the beast sees a glint of light. It braces itself, thinking it another faerie.
But it is only a distorted mirror.
In it, the beast sees its own sharp claws and hideous face.
"You are neither faerie nor daemon nor human," the fae had said. Therefore, the beast is nothing.
It is because the beast looks like this—because it is
nothing—that it finds no acceptance in the world.
Perhaps it should have stayed alone, so it would never hurt another in an outburst of emotion.
Despite how much it craved attention,
the only one that would ever return the foolish beast's gaze exists solely within this mirror.
A deep sigh rises from the beast before vanishing into the darkness.
Almost as if it is letting go of its last remaining hope.

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