The Hellbeast King by Stephanie Hudson

Prologue

Darkness.

That sweet darkness just three breaths away from a near blinding light, that would mark the beginning of the rest of my life. This was it. This was the moment.

My Moment.

One.

Two.

Three.

And a deep breath, here we go… but then… nothing.

I frowned, not understanding what was happening. The lights always came up on three to mark the beginning of the dance. The music was there. The other dancers had already started spinning around me as if nothing was wrong. As though the audience could see them. See them in the darkness.

“No… no… this is all wrong,”I whispered, but no one listened to me. Those shadowy figures continued to twirl around me as if they had become something mechanical. As if someone had their hand on a giant music box, turning the key and making them dance for him. As if we were all just playthings, dancing to the tune of their choosing. But as for me, the centre ballerina…

I was broken.

Because I wasn’t dancing for him.

I wasn’t willing to play his games and be his entertainment like the others. Which was why I was just about to run off the stage, when suddenly a blinding light came from directly above me. A single spotlight illuminating every piece of me.

Every broken piece of me.

I looked down to see myself dressed like Little Red Riding Hood, and beneath the skirt was the horror I faced. I sucked in a painful breath as I saw the cast on my leg, one that had marked the end of everything. The end of a life still living and all in a single moment. A disease they said. Rare they said. I didn’t know, as it had all been a blur for so long, my parents listened with tears in their eyes and as for me… I couldn’t tear my eyes away from that cast.

It had been the end of my beginning.

And now I was back to being stuck in the same nightmare I had been having nearly every night since. However, this time there was something different about it, because that spotlight never came on. It never shone down on me. Darkness had been what mirrored my life for months after. Darkness reflected in my dreams. But not today.

Then, just as the music started to reach its crescendo, another change happened as the girls dancing suddenly all stopped dead. They had never done this. They had never become frozen in place, each one limp like puppets, hanging without their master. As if he had been called away and just left them sagging, wilted and unneeded.

I could even see their strings now the light allowed a glimpse of them, and each were painted like black and white clowns. Deep black slashes through their white eyes as if each were blind, staring at me, unseeing. Skin cracked as though they were porcelain dolls that had been dropped too hard. Painted black grins that unnerved me enough to make me shake. Dirty, torn dresses, some with their tutus hanging down in tatters and casting long shadows along the cracked, splintered stage floor. Each of them with their hands bound with gold shackles that connected to the strings above. No, not strings… but chains.

Prisoners to the Puppet Master.

But where was he now, and why was I the only one free?

“Because you are truly broken.”A murmur of creepy whispers all spoken at the same time echoed around me. I jerked back at the sight of all the broken doll heads that were the dancers, as they twisted in an unnatural way, moving as one. I opened my mouth to scream but it didn’t help.

My voice had been stolen, just as it had been that night in hospital. I felt as if I would have choked on my words had I even tried. But that wasn’t the case now. Because someone had stolen my voice.

And I soon found out who…

“Dance for me, Little Red.” I sucked in a shuddered breath, a sound he allowed, for I knew it amused him. I could hear it, feeling it as it made me shudder. A voice that had such depth of control, I knew no one ever dared to say no to him. But then, what choice did I have as I looked down at my leg and said,

“I can’t.”He was allowing me to speak but not to scream in fear… why? At this, I heard a growl from straight ahead and my gaze snapped up to find a single shadow sitting dead centre, seven rows back. The ‘sweet spot’ I called it when watching shows. It was my favourite seat in the house. The one I always tried to reserve for my parents when I danced.

Yet it was sweet no more.

That large shadow of a man started to lean forward, resting his forearms on his knees, and I sucked in a breath at how intimidating it was. I kept reminding myself that this was just a dream. It had to be. It couldn’t be real.

“Dance,” he said again, and this time I felt my fists clench as my anger rose, the same anger I’d felt that day but didn’t dare unleash. Because if I did, then I knew it might never leave me. So, no longer caring of the fear I felt in his presence, I shouted back at him,

“I CAN’T! I’M BROKEN!” This was when I heard him release a deep regretful sigh, as if it was time he made a decision on whether I lived or died. I didn’t know which, I only knew which one I hoped for. I didn’t want to die. So, a life’s love had been ripped from my grasp, but that didn’t have to mean the end. I still had more to give to the world… I was sure of it.

“Please,” I said, which was when I saw those two eyes start to glow from the darkness of his shadow, like silver flashing in the moonlight. Like some beast caught in the woods by a flashlight’s beam held in a shaky hand. A beast that started to rise up from my ‘sweet spot’ seat, and continued to grow like some giant had been summoned from some Hellish place within him. He started to come towards me, and that was the last thing I saw when suddenly the light above popped. It plunged me into darkness once more and rained down the smashed glass, that amazingly didn’t touch me.

But now that meant only one thing.

The beast of a man… I couldn’t see him.

So, I tried to run, but then I felt my hands being tugged as they were now shackled just like the rest of the dancers. That’s when I suddenly realised that I was chained too, and now someone was pulling on the other end, meaning I had no choice but to move closer to my new captor.

My very own Puppet Master.

So, I limped closer as my hands were pulled in front of me, trying in vain to pull my weight back. But it was no use, he was too strong. And he knew it too, as he whispered,

“Yield to me, little one.”And what choice did I have? He was too big. Too in control… too powerful. Which meant that his shadow came closer and closer, until soon I was gasping for air he was so close. I had no choice but to look up at him. Those two eyes continued to glow as he scanned down the length of me, before a growl rumbled up his chest.

“You owe me a dance, Little Red,” he said, making me wonder if he called me that because of my hair. An unusual blazing red colour that was a mass of curls. Hair he now seemed focused on as a shadowed hand raised, as if ready to take a single curl in his meaty fist. I wished in that moment I could have seen him. That I could have seen the face I knew matched the hard, commanding tone of his voice.

“I can’t, I told you… I’m broken,” I said again, this time in a small voice that was coated with shame. But that was when he whispered down at me,

“Don’t worry, my Electus… I know how to fix you.”

I sucked in a quivering breath, and asked the very last question needed before I knew I would fully become his.

“Who… who are you?”I whispered, and the flash of white in his smile was brief before his hand tightened on my hair, and I was suddenly tugged to his chest. Then, with my head forced back, I had no choice but to watch as his fangs grew. Growing to a deadly length with deadly intent as they descended towards my neck, making me open my mouth to scream, finally allowed to do so.

But he ignored the sound of my fear and instead took the time to growl down at me…

“I’m your HellBeast King.”