As Christine dove deeper and deeper into the West Wing, the pit inside her stomach just kept on getting deeper and deeper as well. The entire wing was dark, not a single candle lit in the hallways. The only light source for her at the moment was the pale moonlight seeping in through some of the windows.

The corridors were lined with ripped up portraits, shattered mirrors and broken statues. These hallways were a complete contrast to the ones in the opposite side of the castle.

As Christine progressed further in, she was met with fallen debris on the ground, making her carefully hop over the crumbling pieces of stone. At the very end of the corridor was a stairway lined with statues, each of them having a sneering and demonic face staring at her. At the top of the stairs was a dim and warm light, begging Christine to walk up the stairs. And being the curious girl she was, Christine did just that.

At the top was a short corridor and at the end was a massive door. Christine sped up her step, her heart beating wildly in her chest.

Christine carefully opened the door, fearing that the door could loudly creak any minute. When she had a large enough space opened for herself, Christine carefully tiptoed in.

The room looked extremely eerie with about a dozen candles as it's lighting, their molten wax dripping down the elaborate golden candelabras. So far, this room was in the worst condition. Broken glass was crunching under her boots, pieces of torn up fabric were thrown in a heap in a corner of the room and scary statues were glaring at her from every corner, their faces even scarier in the dim light.

Christine's sight was caught by a scratched up painting on her left. On the painting, there was a noble family of three: a proud-looking father, a beautiful mother and a little boy, barely age eight. They all wore very expensive-looking clothes and looked almost like royals. The man's face was scratched out almost completely, only a few bits of canvas remaining. The mother's face, however, was left untouched. She had the same blue eyes as the little boy, who's face was scratched except for those blue orbs.

The words of Madame Giry popped up in Christine's mind: "Deep in his soul, he is just a prince...". Was the little boy in the picture the master of the castle? If so, how had he become the scary man she witnessed him to be?

Another unusual object caught Christine's attention. It was a beautiful red rose, suspended mid air inside a glass jar. A few petals were laying underneath it, blackened and withered. As Christine reached out to lightly touch the glassy barrier, she heard an angry voice.

"What are you doing here?! What did you do to it?!" It was the master of the castle, his uncovered deformity looking even more gruesome in the dim lighting. Christine just stepped back as the master flew straight towards the rose, his skeletal fingers laid over the glass jar with the rose.

His ice blue eyes quickly darted to Christine, his voice bellowing at her. "Do you realize what you could have done? You could have damned us all! Get out!"

Christine quickly ran back, fear prominent in her eyes. She ran through the foyer, dodging attempts of all the servants to stop her, running out into the snowy night. Christine quickly jumped onto Caesar, riding off as fast as she could.

As she stopped in the woods, Christine quickly realized that running away might not have been the smartest idea. She was surrounded by a pack of at least five snow wolves, each of them growling at her. Another wolf all of a sudden pounced on her from behind, throwing her off of Caesar's back.

Christine quickly recovered, taking a big stick from the icy ground and using it as a weapon, protecting her horse by hitting the attacking wolves. Last minute, she saw a big alpha wolf jump towards her and she realized that she won't be able to protect herself.

Christine closed her eyes and mentally prepared for the wolf's teeth to bite into her, but that never happened. She opened her eyes only to see the castle's master pulling his sword out from the wolf's chest. His black horse was next to her, but a few wolves were already sneaking up on it.

However hard the castle's master tried to fight off the wolves, there were too many and he was soon pinned down to the ground, the animal teeth and claws digging into his body. The master's horse was scared out of it's wits, pulling on it's reins so hard, that they ripped.

With the last few bits of his strength, the castle master took his sword and drove it through the gut of the wolf on top of him. As he shakily stood up to throw the dead wolf off of him, all the other wolves scurried away, seeing as their as their leader was dead.

He just stood there, breathing heavily, not moving a single muscle. As he turned to look back on Christine, the castle's master fell to the ground into the snow.

Christine turned back to hop back onto Caesar's back, to run away back to the village, but she turned around to look at him one more time. He curled up on the ground into a fetal position, hiding away his face. Blood oozed out of his wounds, staining the pure white snow crimson.

Christine quickly jumped back down to the ground, unfastening her cloak, which was the only thing she brought with her. She gently laid the cloak over the master's shoulders. His blue eyes met her brown ones in that moment. He looked so innocent and shocked. As if he had never known kindness.

"You have to help me." Christine whispered "You have to stand."

With a little support, Christine helped the castle's master to walk to Caesar and helped him onto the horse to take him back to the castle to treat his wounds.