I do not own American Horror Story: Freak Show.

But I couldn't not write after seeing that picture.

Beauty and the Beast: A Freak Show Fairytale

Howling, howling.

Howling in the dark.

The night was dark and full of stars. The moon overhead hung high and misshapen.

Angelica Mayweather moved carefully, cautiously, but without fear through the wild woods.

She had never been afraid of anyone or anything in her short, eventful life.

She wasn't super strong. Rather on the opposite end, she was a slight slip of a girl with straight, silky, honey blond hair.

She wasn't armed. She wasn't chaperoned by anyone save perhaps some wakeful midnight angels.

She just simply knew she was tougher than anyone else alive.

And that childish, foolish belief just might get her killed some deep, dangerous night.

But tonight was not that night.

And so she moved through the darkness, silent and shadowy.

Listening to the howling.

It was odd.

It all melded together in undulating, discordant harmony.

But part of it stood out.

Like a human, a child, pretending. Playing. Imitating the wolf.

And she moved forward.

Toward the outlying cabin set in the still clearing, dark and still in the wee hours.

And the restless, trapped pack caged in the low, dirty metal-barred enclosure yards away.

They turned, nearly as one, at her slow, even approach.

There were four, maybe five dogs. Big, wiry.

And they started to growl, low and dangerous.

A normal ten year old would have been terrified, in a state of sheer panic.

Angelica Mayweather was no typical ten year old.

And the wolves sensed it, for they stopped their threats.

And watched her with silent, yellow eyes.

From inside a cage so small they could barely sit or turn.

And her rage flared.

The lock was flimsy and rusted and she broke it with a discarded hammer.

The wolves dropped their shaggy heads as she eased the door open.

They slunk out, keeping their eyes trained suspiciously on her.

Before melting away into the darkness.

The last turned back toward the corner of the now nearly empty cage.

Issued a low 'woof'.

Waited a fraction of a second longer.

Then followed its comrades into the waiting night.

Angelica peered toward where the wolf had called.

Among the piles of bones and fecal matter, a figure hovered.

Small, wispy.

Not a wolf.

Something else.

A boy.

Filthy and covered in grime.

Greasy hair nearly obscuring in his dirt streaked face.

Crouched, huddled in the corner of the cage.

Whimpering for his pack.

Like a lost wolfcub.

"Hey," she called softly into the dark space.

At the sound of her voice, his whimpering stopped.

He raised his head and though his eyes did not gleam as the wolves', she could sense him looking at her.

"Hey," she surreshed again. "Hey, come on out. It's okay. You're free."

He did not move.

She stood and thought for a long moment.

Opened the pouch around her tiny skirted waist.

Removed a hunk of jerky.

Bit off a small piece.

Held it aloft for the boy to see.

Then laid it down on the cleanest bit of grass she could find just outside the cage.

Backed up a few feet and sat down to wait.

She watched his wary progression toward the proffered dried meat.

On two legs but hunched, shuffling .

Uncertain and unsure.

But moving forward nonetheless.

When he reached the jerky, he lowered his head down to sniff it.

Then he snatched it up in his hand and gulped it down.

Angelica didn't move.

He was emaciated and covered in bruises.

Bruises, not bites.

The wolf pack had not attacked him or he would have been dead.

His bruises were those from being jostled to and fro in a close quartered group.

Here, on the edge of the Kentucky Appalachians, people did all sorts of horrible things to each other.

Though she had never seen a boy caged like an animal.

Had the owner of the cabin put him in there as punishment?

Did he belong to him?

She didn't know and she didn't care.

Instead, she snuck forward.

The boy stayed put, watching her every movement.

She inspected the immediate surroundings.

Found a gas can.

Matches.

Encircled the perimeter of the cabin with the pungent fluid.

And dropped the lit flame.

Hello all!

Yeah, I wrote another one. Go figure.

Actually, this a bit more of a collaborative effort between me and a very talented writer. But we'll get to that. ;)

It's very AU, though most of our FS people are there, albeit in slightly different roles and forms. And as you can surmise from the picture, Angelica Mayweather is young Taissa Farmiga and the boy in the cage is young Evan Peters.

Well, I'm sure you'll let me know what you think. 'S what I like about you guys.

Everybody appreciates feedback. Leave a review if you like. :)