Here in the Library
you will find
Beauty And The Beast stories and poetry.
The copyright remains with the author
(the death of Arthur)
by Amber James
He lay there, watching the old two-legs with the angry voice who always spoiled his adventures. His four small legs trembled slightly as he fought for breath, it was harder now to move around. His tiny nose quivered, recognising familiar smells, dry crackling smells, he knew they were the white old scented things that rested between the heavier, dark stuff that smelt like the covering the two legs protected their feet with. The word he understood disappeared from his grasp in the confusion of his mind, then with clarity it returned 'books'. The old two-legs with the angry voice would hound him from the refuge he had found, so he kept still. The pounding in his chest eased, he made his move, silently, slowly, he didn't want the old two-legs with the angry voice to know he had been in forbidden places.
As he made his escape, the tunnels became familiar guides to lead him to safety, to home. Again he paused not understanding what was happening. A new sensation washed over him, fear, but he did not recognise it, he had not met fear before, not like this. Fear for Arthur meant being caught by the big two-legs stealing food, or the little two-legs who tied cans to his tail, but that was long ago, only dim half-remembered fears. This fear was new, unknown, and he needed the security of his safe place.
Tantalising scents from the chamber where the two-legs found their food held no attraction for him, he had to get home. Beneath his legs the tunnels sloped upwards and he fought every inch of the way, as he reached the iron grating the pain hit him once more. Tiny eyes scanned the darkness searching for the little two-legs the ones they called children. They hurt him sometimes with things sticking out of their mouths which sent tiny stones to torment him, he was alone with no explanation for the pain, but it was a different pain. Stones stung, this was a building continuous hurt which ebbed and flowed through the tiny body. He pushed himself on........ he had to get home.
It was down now, down and down, the pain subsided and he rested. Hot, dry, and weary, he sniffed the air around him, damp air. Nearby was water, and a desperate thirst washed over him. Yet he knew he could not seek the cool clear water...... he had to get home. He was barely walking now and his back legs left furrows in the dust as they dragged from time to time, but he fought to control them, they had never refused to carry him before, again the unknown terror took hold of him. Twice, his four legs seemed to belong to another animal, and they ceased moving, then he rolled over and over in the dust, to land in a heap at the bottom of the stone ramp.
He could no longer feel his four legs, and from deep within came the knowledge that he would not move again. A soothing numbness began to creep along his body, slow and comforting, for now there was no pain, only a longing for the safety of familiar surroundings........ of home. His eyes closed and he surrendered to the sweetness of oblivion. Sounds disturbed his calm, sounds he knew, they raised his hopes as his tiny eyes opened wide in joy. It was the two-legs who smelt of oil, and machinery.... it was his two-legs.
All sensation had left the small body now, only his mind remembered and was glad.......... arms he knew lifted him from the ground and cradled him close. He drifted off, then became alert again as the smells of chemicals and oil and his safe place drifted into his nostrils. The strange unknown fear had left him now and a peaceful contentment seeped into him. He was home, with his own two-legs, and he knew nothing could hurt him anymore. Snuggling close into the protective warmth of leather, wool, and linen, he sighed. The dullness crept into his mind, but he could feel nothing but the soft beckoning peace.
He was not aware of the tenderness with which his two-legs laid him on the cushion, he did not feel the gentle hand stroke his long slender body........ all he felt was 'safe'...... and he sighed again. He did not feel the tears fall onto his fur from the eyes of the two-legs who fed and cared for him as his own eyes glazed over. He did not hear the words of goodbye softly spoken. He did not know that he would live on in the memory of the two-legs the others called Mouse.......... and even the most devastating of his explorations, would be remembered by all Below with fondness and with love. How could the small raccoon know he would never really die and, as stories of his adventures were passed on from one generation to the next, the story of Arthur would become a part of the magic weaving only the greatest of legends are made of.
.....And That Should Be
by Amber James
She sat in the darkness looking at the picture on the wall. Every night since she had found it, she had waited for the others to go to sleep then crept down here amongst the ruins.
"The last of the old ones died today, she made it to twenty-six, I've never heard of one living that long before. Some didn't even make twenty. I can't understand why they did it. Why did they need to stockpile biological weapons? Keep them for centuries? They insisted they were safe, even when the news got out that a virus had been released, they didn't tell the truth. And why am I sitting here in the middle of the night talking to an old faded picture on a tunnel wall?"
She left then, disgusted at her actions, they'd think she had lost her reason. But it couldn't be the virus, that was not one of the side effects. She wondered what the world had really been like before the `accident' in 2165. The memories of what old people looked like were fading from her mind. It was becoming difficult to remember what her parents looked like. They'd both gone ten years ago when she was seven victims, like so many, of the poison in the air. It had all been explained to her so many times, but still she found it hard.
The next night she decided to tell him all about it so, once everything was quiet she went back.
"It's me again, Petra." She told the silent face on the wall. "I still can't understand why a blood group made all the difference, why, because my blood is rhesus negative, I became immune. That was the deciding factor. The virus killed everyone else, only the pregnant women with rhesus negative blood found their babies were not affected, they died but not the children they carried. We don't know how long we'll live, but there's nothing to suggest we won't live to be old." She smiled "It's funny when you think about it, today is New Years Day, who'd have thought we'd be starting 2190 with no-one left over the age of twenty five? The world's changed, we all look alike now. That's how they realised something was wrong. Down's syndrome children all looked alike, they thought we were like them but, in time they found our ability to learn hadn't been altered. I like coming here, to look at all the different faces on your wall." She sighed. "I couldn't sleep, I never can when I'm angry. Peter, you remember I told you about him, he's my twin, well he's been frightening the little ones again with his monster stories. I get really angry when he does that. Why can't he understand this is the only safe place, the only place we can find unpolluted water. That's why we live down here, you lived here once didn't you? We've read about you in the books in the big room. You're Vincent. Peter tells the little ones you were a monster, most of them think you're just a story he's made up....... They've never seen you or they wouldn't let him call you a freak. She's pretty, I bet that's Catherine, my Mom looked a bit like her. I'm not surprised some people thought you shouldn't be together, because of the differences........ Your Father didn't like it at first, he wrote about it in his books, but when he got to know her, he realised how much you loved her....... then he decided the differences didn't matter. Someday I'll find someone to love Vincent....... someday. I don't think I can come tomorrow night....... I'm working in the park...... we're growing most of our own food now...... it takes a lot of looking after. I wonder how you managed down here? We only came for the water. And it keeps us warm and safe. But I'll come the night after." Petra quietly slipped away and back to her bed.
Two nights later she picked her way through the rubble again. "I'm back..... It rained yesterday I got wet, and when I came back Peter was on about keeping close to the centre...... He says some of these old tunnels are dangerous, he doesn't know I come here. He tells the little ones the monster will get them if they stray too far, so they do as they're told. Perhaps one day I'll bring them here. If they could see how kind you look, they'd know the truth. They'd know you're not a freak. I think you're beautiful."
Slowly she reached out her hand to touch the old faded painting, her long slender claws traced the lies of his face. "If they saw you they'd know you're not a freak, they'd see you're..... just like us."
A broad smile crossed her face the long white fangs catching the soft light from her candle. She rose to leave and, as she turned, she said fondly, "Did you have the same trouble getting this candlewax out of your fur, it can be real pain sometimes........?
I'll see you tomorrow Vincent ....... goodnight."
Vincent And Catherine
by Jill Craven
At the end of the day full of bustle and noise
and Catherine is Above
I enter Vincent's world Below
Full of peace, calm and love.
For a precious hour every day
my world is calm and still
I've always dreamed of such a place
and I'm sure I always will.
We all need dreams to help us cope
when life seems harsh and cold
it's good to dream of unicorns
of rainbows and of gold.
The goodness deep in every one
shines through in every minute
while watching "Beauty and the Beast"
all our dreams are within it.
At first, there were only the whispers,
Hushed tones flowing into air,
Telling me tales of another life,
Of a different world, up there.
Yet here my days were numbered,
I walked each one, alone.
Here was all I could ever know,
A refuge safe, my home.
Within the hours of night Above,
I stole a glimpse or two,
Felt the grass beneath my feet,
Just as other men might do.
Often their cruelty shocked me,
I tasted then, their fear.
Knowing the shadows would hide me,
If they should venture near.
Their world, for me, held nothing,
Still something drew me there,
And often the warning came to me,
That I should take great care
When, the mystery of the city
Captured me, to be a part,
Of the compelling mighty beating,
I felt deep within it's heart.
A sudden restlessness came over me,
On a dark and sleepless night.
A urgency I could not deny,
A demand I could not fight.
So, taking up my long, dark cloak,
I surrendered to what destiny planned,
And made another journey Above,
Obeying some unknown demand.
In the park their headlights glittered,
I sank into the shadows I knew,
Watching the ever nearing men,
Those who would lead me to you.
Heavy scents assaulted my nostrils,
Messengers of violence and death.
As they left me there in the silence,
I heard a faint, shuddering breath.
You lay there helpless, barely moving,
As death walked close, and so
Without a moment spared for thought,
I took you to safety Below.
And from that darkest of moments,
My life has been filled with light,
How could I have known, for me,
There would be a love so bright?
For three short years I knew you,
Our journey had only begun,
A man's greed took you from me,
And left me to care for our son.
But what of the future, Catherine,
Can I live, and once again start
To build life without my soul,
And flourish without a heart?
For you have taken them with you,
To where ere your rest is found.
Only that which is truly mortal,
Lies resting in the ground.
This love cannot die as we shall,
I feel it's presence true,
It can never be taken from me,
Nor lost, whatever I do.
Time is all that stands between us,
Years destined to fade away,
Until I hear death's summons,
And willingly obey.
Then we shall be reunited,
For nothing can keep us apart,
You are my eternal destiny,
The guardian of my heart
And we shall know forever,
Time then, will fade away,
As I reach out to take your hand,
In that bright and duskless day.
I shall see your soft eyes shining,
Touch the wondrous silk of your hair,
Love will guide us for all time,
There can be no parting there.
Together, in the sunlight
United, healed and whole,
We shall know the blessed unity,
Of one mind, one heart, one soul.
by Beverley Thomas
Fragile is the beauty,
that love within your soul.
Strong are the hands
that support my every goal.
Gentle are the arms
that catch me when I fall.
Understanding are the eyes
that smile encouragingly when I stall.
Handsome is the face
that I love to see.
Tender are the lips
that kiss so passionately.
Soft are the fingers
that caresses my willing form.
Quiet is the voice
that calms the troubled storm.
Sensitive is the mind
that thinks lovingly of me.
Perfect is my companion
that will be with me for all eternity.
There are many books and zines that are now out of print. We are attempting to gather as many as possible together in the form of an archive. This means you can download them from this site, and read at you leisure. To go to the archive please click the green Archive link at the bottom of the page.
If you have any stories, poetry or artwork you would be willing to share with other fans through our library, or archives, please send your contributions (as attached text files) to Rita's email address or write/send to Rita Davies (her address is on the fan club information page, and her email link below on this page).
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