He could feel the magic in the air as he roamed the forest. It tickled the hair on the back of his neck and made his muscles tense and his bones ache. He couldn't focus on the hunt as the fawn scrambled through the trees away from him. It was more than a mere hunger he couldn't satisfy.

"Ben," A voice whispered through the trees, a name he hadn't heard in a long time, a voice he refused to believe was real. Still, his instinct was to turn toward it.

The shadow of a girl had her voice, but nothing else. An illusion and nothing more. He ran from the past he couldn't escape, knowing the nightmares would come next.

"Ben!" The whisper came again, the same figment standing before him, that evil song growing louder through the trees.

But we're not coming home

Until he's dead

Kill the beast

He turned away from both and bounded through the trees, trying to find refuge anywhere he could.

He froze as he came to a clearing with a single human. His interactions with humans had never gone well.

"Ben," It was her voice more solid, physical, but he knew it couldn't be her.

He didn't even let her get any further. "Leave my sight you blasphemous waif!" He growled. He had had enough of the deceptions in the forest, the nightmares, the pain. He wanted nothing more than to tear her to shreds. Whoever she was pretending to be.

"Ben," she said again, turning around and pulling down the hood of the cloak to reveal hair the wrong color. "It's me." The magic zinged through the air, making his cockles rise as her hair changed back to that characteristic purple.

"Liar!" He growled, baring his fangs and forcing his way back away from her. He could still hear the mob at his back. But the more immediate threat was in front of him, whoever Maleficent had spelled that time.

"Benny Boo," The imposter spoke gently. "I know you have no reason to trust me, but I would never lie to you." For a brief second, he wanted to believe her, his chest growing light at the familiar sight before him. He wanted to believe her, them, whoever it was that looked so much like her. Instead, he came to his senses and curled his paw, ready to swipe and run at the first opportunity.

She was an imposter. She didn't even look like Mal. Her hair was too long, her face too full of fear. Mal had never been scared of anything.

She took a deep breath and he found himself wanting to believe it was her. This one was the most like Mal yet, besides that look of fear and apprehension on her face. "You once asked me what scared me," She said, her eyes locked on his even though her hands were shaking. "I lied and said that nothing scares me."

No one else had been there for that conversation, unless it had been the fake Mal the whole time. It didn't prove anything.

"I watched you die," he growled, doing his best to try and avoid her eyes, but he found he was trapped there. "I murdered you and you dare to stand here and tell me about what scares you?" He was about to scar that imposter up too, send her back to Maleficent with a personal message.

"Who told you that?" She asked. "My mother? Who is full of lies?" She seemed not as scared in an instant. "Did she tell you that you clawed me to death?" She asked, the stars seeming to shine in her purple hair, that distinct shade that he had missed so much. She pulled up her sleeve to reveal silvery scars. "That was the only thing you caused." She said. "I'm still here, Ben."

She reached under her skirt with a sigh and he readied himself to pounce, slash and hack if she pulled out a weapon. He watched as she pulled a knife and flipped it so it was facing her. He stared back at her, his eyes catching her. The determination on her face was refreshing, but he still wasn't sure what it meant.

"Do you remember about my mother's mark?" She asked, urging him to take the knife. "How it can't be replicated or harmed?" She pulled up her sleeve and presented the same mark to him. None of the others had done that. "Do your worst," she said.

None of the others had actually asked him to harm them. This Mal was different and he could see that, but he still didn't have proof that she was the correct Mal, so he raised his paw and swiped against the familiar mark, the familiar screams of the victims before not reaching his ears.

That imposter didn't scream, the only sound in the darkness was the mob getting closer with their stupid song and the whine of his claws against pure metal. Her mark hadn't changed, but his claws ached with pain and the skin surrounding the mark was gruesome from his claws.

He didn't know what to think, especially as he watched the deep gashes disappear with what he could only describe as magic. "Mal?" He found himself asking, before he could force the logic back into his head.

She nodded slowly. "I'm sorry it took me so long," She said with a slight smile. "But how could you not tell me about this, Ben?" She asked, her fury unmatched.

It was his turn to be scared, and finally feel the shame of what he had become. Could she ever love him when he looked like that? Did he have any hope before his eighteenth birthday, however close or far away that was?

"I-" He started, but found he had no answer that he could explain when he would rather drink her in after so long without her.

"If you had told me before, I could have found a solution before it got this bad," she said. "I could have found a spell long ago that could have at least given you more time."

"No!" Ben growled. "There is no spell that can break it."

The mob only seemed to be getting closer, their song louder, but he couldn't find the words that he needed to tell her. He didn't even know it was possible, since her kiss had turned him into the beast. That wasn't supposed to happen until his eighteenth birthday.

"It's a good thing that I did more than just research spells, isn't it, Benjamin Florian Adamson?" She asked, pulling her backpack off of her shoulders when that didn't work. She punctuated every syllable of his name and it struck fear into his heart.

Meredith and anyone else that his parents had sent had already tried his full name, along with throwing clothes at him, and trying to remind him of the human joys that he had enjoyed, but he knew nothing could break the spell but true love. Something he had thought he had had in Mal after that summer and their time together, but he had been wrong.

He felt so ashamed, especially as Mal had tried all of the things that everyone else had already tried. Still, he wished they would work, though he knew they wouldn't.

The clothes she threw at him burned into bright flames as they touched his fur, the memories of his childhood turned sour in his head and made his eyes ache. His name, Benjamin Florian Adamson sounded like someone else. Someone else he couldn't reach. A past version of himself that no longer existed.

He could see she was getting disheartened as she held out one of Mrs. Pott's cherry cookies, crumbling and dry, but she persisted. It crumbled in his large paw, unable to work whatever magic it contained.

"No! No! No!" She exclaimed as a loud beeping rang through the trees and he felt more solid in his fur than ever before. She sniffled loudly. "I'm too late." She gasped out. "I'm too late!"

Too late for?

"Happy birthday, Ben."

Hello Everyone! This is the end of this part of the story, but keep your eyes out for the next installment. It will be rated M, so keep that in mind as well. I'll see you all soon!