Me: Finally got this puppy up.
Zero: Another one?
Me: Yep. Only thing is, this one is a straight up parody. Basically I'm replacing Quasimodo with a literal monster, a Demon actually.
Rendan: How ironic, a Demon living in a house of God.
Me: That's the point. Also, I was kinda pissed off at the Disney movie for spitting on its own morals.
Zero: Such as?
Me: Look underneath what you see on the outside to see the beauty on the inside. Not just what makes a monster and what makes a man. They spat on the first one.
Rendan: How?
Me: Well, Quasimodo fell in love with Esmeralda because she was kind to him despite his horrid appearance, but at the end of the movie she ends up with Phoebus, the pretty boy.
Zero: That explains it. Ending up with a pretty boy who could get damn near any woman he wanted over a person who needs the love much more.
Me: Exactly! So, there is no Phoebus/Esmeralda in this tale. Hell no. She's going to end up with, in my opinion, who she should have ended up with in the first place. Although technically it's not Quasimodo, it still follows the general idea. Also to note, this will update whenever the hell I feel like it so the updates will be random as hell. Now for the disclaimer. I don't own The Hunchback of Notre Dame. Disney has the exclusive rights to that. All I own are whatever changes I've made and the little Demon himself. Now, read and enjoy.
Chapter 1: A Story's Beginning
It was a cold night in Paris. Then again, every night seemed that way since Judge Claude Frollo began his nightly Gypsy hunts. One could swear the man was obsessed. With what, however, was anyone's guess. A man such as he seemed to be like one possessed, never resting, never showing mercy, never thinking until his objective was completed. If one good thing could be said about this man, however, it was that he was committed.
A small gondola rowed silently down the river, carrying three gypsies, two males, the rower excluded, and one female who was holding a baby in her arms. The baby started to cry slightly, prompting the mother to hold him closer to her body and shush him, hopefully putting him to sleep so he wouldn't draw attention to them. These people had one mission at the moment, freedom. Ever since the hunts began, gypsies were being captured, tortured and murdered... or worse. What could be worse than death, however, was up for speculation but based on the tales they'd heard, there was such a thing.
The horrors described in the tales they'd heard was enough to give even the most brave man nightmares for months. Dreaded tales of torture and rape, bloodied bodies lining the walls of blackened rooms, all of these and more filled some of the more horror filled tales. No matter what the tale, a horrible fate awaited those involved.
Elsewhere, a dark figure on a black horse was stalking the streets of Paris. He wore a triangular hat that appeared to be purple with multiple black stripes on it and a long red sash on it. He wore judges robes and sat proudly atop his dark steed. He appeared to have a decent amount of age to his as well. He was gangly and appeared to be in his late forties to early fifties. This was one man who's very presence screamed power and evil. Ironic, considering he was supposed to be a righteous man.
"Judge Frollo," a guard near the black robed man also on horseback began, "there are several gypsies attempting to escape via the river."
"Excellent," the black clad man, now identified as Frollo responded. He turned to the other men around him, numbering three dozen. "Move out! I want all possible waterways blocked!" He pointed to five others. "You five, come with me!" With that one order given, he raced off with his men following on his heels. It wasn't long before they had set up an ambush point along the river directly in the gypsies' path. Now all that was left was to wait and be patient.
The gypsies didn't know what was going to happen. They rowed silently into a small port that led to the main street. That was one of the quickest ways out of the city and the most effective. Unfortunately for them, they walked right into an ambush. Within seconds the gypsies were surrounded and arrested, with Judge Frollo glancing at the captured gypsies triumphantly. His expression changed, however, when the female holding the baby in her arms managed to escape the guard's hold and run off. Angered by his soldier's incompetence, he followed the fleeing woman on horseback.
The gypsy woman ran as fast as her legs could carry her. Without a place to escape, she ran to the only place that could give her protection, Notre Dame. She ran up the steps and started banging on the doors hoping someone would hear her.
"Sanctuary! Please! Sanctuary!" She cried, still slamming on the door with all her might. Sadly, she was cornered by Frollo who rushed to the area and met her as she tried to run down the stairs and away. He tried to pull the baby from her arms but she valiantly held on. Frollo responded to her bravery by holding onto the blankets holding the baby and kicked her in the face, sending her head hitting the steps of the cathedral, instantly killing her. Frollo curiously looked at the child in his arms.
"A baby?" He asked no one in particular. He pulled away the blanket covering the baby's face before recoiling in horror and covering the baby back up. "A monster!" He glanced around looking for a place to dispose of the monstrous child. The only thing he found was a well. Perfect. He rode to the well and held the helpless child above the opening.
"Stop!" Cried a voice. "What are you doing?" Frollo looked in the direction of the voice to see the Archdeacon rushing out of Notre Dame.
"This is an unholy demon, I'm sending back to Hell where it belongs," Frollo explained.
"See there the innocent blood you have spilt on the steps of Notre Dame," the Archdeacon cried as he held the dead woman in his arms.
"I am guiltless," Frollo defended. "She ran, I pursued."
"Now you would add this child's blood to your guilt on the steps of Notre Dame," the Archdeacon continued.
"My conscience is clear!" Frollo shouted.
"You can lie to yourself and your minions, you can claim that you haven't a qualm, but you never can run nor hide what you've done from the eyes," the Archdeacon pointed upward at the many statues adorning the cathedral, "the very eyes of Notre Dame!" Frollo looked up at the statues seeing all eyes were on him. For once in his life, Frollo was afraid. Afraid for himself, and afraid for his soul.
"What must I do?" Frollo asked.
"Care for this child and raise it as your own," the Archdeacon stated.
"What? I'd be settled with this misshapen–?" Frollo began but stopped himself. "Very well. Let him live with you, in your church."
"Live here?" The Archdeacon questioned incredulously. "Where?"
"Anywhere," Frollo responded. "Just so he's kept locked away where no one can see. The bell tower perhaps, and who knows, our Lord works in mysterious ways. Even this foul creature may yet prove one day to be of use to me." Frollo gave the child a cruel name. A name inspired by one of a fallen angel. An angel so imperfect he didn't deserve to reside in the sanctuaries of Heaven. Azryl.
Without another word he handed the disfigured child to the Archdeacon who took the boy in without another word. The next day the gypsy woman was buried in the cemetery. Sadly, no one came to the mass, nor the funeral. No doubt Frollo had something to do with it. He dutifully, if reluctantly, raised the child over the next eighteen years. Frollo tried to instill into the boy that the world was a cold and dark place where nothing but evil reigned.
The boy, to Frollo's dismay, didn't take to his lessons too well. In fact, Azryl seemed to disregard his lessons entirely, one time actually telling Frollo he was full of shit. As the boy grew, so did his ugliness. He had short, thick, messy black hair and dull, seemingly lifeless brown eyes. His right eye seemed to stick out of his head, while his left was nearly level with his nose. He had disfigured teeth and a misshapen head. Body wise, however, he seemed to be that of a teen, a very muscular teen but a teen nonetheless. Ringing those enormous bells several times a day and twice more on Sundays really helped build muscle. Not to mention his constant escapades usually involved him traveling extensively, building muscle in his legs, chest and stomach.
Just like Frollo said, he seemed to be nothing more than a hideous monster, but there was one thing Frollo missed about the boy. He had a second face. Like Frollo had said eighteen years ago, he actually was a demon from Hell. However, growing up in a church, regardless of being in a bell tower for most of the time, had made him realize the only people who deserved to suffer were evil people. As such, he resolved to make Frollo's life as difficult as inhumanely possible.
The Festival of Fools was rapidly approaching and Azryl was as eager as ever to attend. Unknown to Frollo, who had forbade him from leaving the tower, he made it a habit to leave as often as possible under his second face. Frollo had no idea and Azryl could secretly make Frollo's life hell, which he did on a regular basis. Frollo was taking his normal visit to his hideous ward and found him watching the people below with interest.
"What are you doing, Azryl?" Frollo questioned.
"Just watching," Azryl replied. Frollo noticed the boy taking increased interest in the outside world. It was something he'd have to stop.
"Let's go through your ABCs," Frollo ordered.
"Again?" Azryl sighed. He'd had enough of that bullshit after the first three lessons.
"Let's begin. A."
"Asshole." Frollo twitched.
"Abomination," he corrected. "B."
"Bastard." Frollo developed a tick mark on his forehead. "No? Bullshit then." The tick mark grew. "Breasts?" A typical teenager response. The tick mark spread to his entire head.
"Blasphemy!" Frollo shouted before somehow composing himself. "C."
"Cunt." Frollo's face turned bright red in anger.
"Contrition..." Frollo was beginning to lose his patience. "D."
"Damnation." Frollo happily sighed. Finally he got one right. "Hey, damnation's fun!" That snapped Frollo out of his happy thoughts.
"E."
"Eternal damnation." Frollo smiled again, but began to wonder if Azryl considered that to be more fun.
"F."
"Fuckwad!" Azryl shouted, much to Frollo's dismay. "Faggot?" Frollo started to get pissed again. "Failure?" The tick mark returned. Azryl sighed. "Forgiveness..."
"Correct," Frollo sighed in relief. Perhaps it was just a case of outlasting his disobedience. "G."
"Gouda!" Frollo slapped his hand to his face. Azryl groaned. "God." He spat after saying that.
"H."
"Hell!" Azryl proudly shouted. Frollo groaned this time. His mind traveled to a Hell that Azryl may call home. To say the least, Frollo was concerned.
"Heaven!... I."
"Incest!" Frollo's face met the floor with that one. "What? That seems to be how you came into the world." Frollo's face flushed redder than a cherry in pure anger.
"Innocent."
"How ironic... you don't think anyone is innocent," Azryl deadpanned.
"That's not the point! J."
"Justice."
"Very good. K."
"Knockoff." Frollo groaned once more. "Koinonía."
"L," Frollo continued.
"Lust!" Frollo's face flushed red out of sheer incredulousness. "No? Lesbian!" Frollo's face met the floor again.
"Lord, Azryl. Lord. M."
"Masturbate!" Frollo's face was now contorted into pure rage. "Monster." Frollo visibly calmed down.
"N."
"Necrophiliac," Azryl stated. Frollo gagged. "Nuisance."
"Better. O."
"Oppression." Frollo looked at the boy confused. "That's all you seem to do, so it made sense."
"Correct. P,"
"Penis." Frollo looked ready to gag again. "Really? Then why are you always surrounded by men? I thought you liked it." Frollo rushed to the balcony and vomited over the edge, hitting a few of his men below. He wiped his mouth and sat back down.
"Penance. Q."
"Queer." Frollo started growling.
"Questioning. R."
"Revolting."
"Good, good. S."
"Stupid!" Azryl raised his arms in victory. "Shit? Savage?" Frollo was now digging his nails into his palms. "Sin." Frollo's eye started twitching.
"T."
"Travesty."
"U."
"Ugly."
"V."
"Vagina!" This time Frollo actually covered his nose. "So you really do like women. Who knew?"
"Virtue! W."
"Witchcraft."
"X."
"Xenophobia." Frollo sighed. Close enough.
"Y."
"Youth!" Azryl shouted, throwing his arms up in the air for the second time before his eyes suddenly widened and his right eye started twitching. "I will never do that again."
'What was that all about?' Frollo thought. "York. Z."
"Zealots." Frollo sighed victoriously having gotten through the lesson in one piece. This was always an adventure with Azryl, considering he always messed with Frollo as often as he could with vulgar suggestions and lewd comments.
"Very good, Azryl. You did better than last time." He stood up and left.
"Unholy fucking Hell that was aggravating!" Azryl shouted. He was soon brought out of his rage by a voice that came from behind him.
"You know how Frollo is. He just loves to push your buttons." Azryl turned around and saw a chubby gargoyle behind him.
"I know, Hugo, but he has to stroke that ego of his or else he can't visit his favorite brothel," Azryl stated. The gargoyle blinked and chuckled.
"Well, he's usually in the male one not too far away from the city's gate," Hugo said, still laughing.
"I swear you two are just like children," came a distinctly aged female voice. Another gargoyle, this one with a female appearance looked at the two of them and crossed her arms.
"Take it easy on them, Laverne," another gargoyle said. He was the tallest of the three gargoyles and appeared to be the most fit, chiseled wise.
"I don't want Azy here to grow up to be stupid, Victor!" Laverne shouted.
"Relax Laverne," Azryl stated as he walked over to her. "I'm just having some fun, that's all."
"That's all well and good Azy, but don't forget you have to stay smart if you want to leave here some day."
"Why would I want to do that? I'm two different extremes in one body."
"Which makes me wonder why you don't show your other face more often," Laverne deadpanned.
"People have to learn to see past the outside to see who a person really is on the inside. Until then, I can't really go anywhere."
"You don't seem to have a problem doing it when you go out," Victor said.
"Well I need a disguise," Azryl explained. "I never showed Frollo my other face and I go out like that to torment him without him recognizing me."
"With his eyes and his age, it's a miracle he recognizes anything!" Hugo joked.
"Any plans for the festival this year?" Laverne asked.
"Yeah, actually. I was thinking of becoming the King of Fools," Azryl informed them.
"Any reason why?" Victor questioned.
"Why not?" Azryl responded. "What better way to reveal myself? Besides, it's not like Frollo can really do anything anyway, and it's not like anything really interesting is going to happen." Azryl didn't seem to realize just how wrong he was.
Me: And that'll do it for Chapter 1.
Rendan: Oh Kami...
Zero: What?
Rendan: Gai-sensei's spirit even affects alternate realities. -shivers-
Me: Yeah. Scary isn't it?
Rendan: Terrifying.
Azryl: So I'm a literal version of the moral the movie tried to convey.
Me: Exactly, though we don't know what your other face looks like yet. Also, for those who don't know, Azryl's name is inspired by the evil fallen angel's name Azael. A little alteration and you have a name very similar to it without outright stealing it. I could see Frollo using it to avoid an obvious slight against his religion, but at the same time describe his own distaste for the child. And yes, people, I'm altering the time frame for this tale, having it take place 18 years after the well incident instead of 20. Why? Because this is more fun and his outbursts make a lot more sense considering he's a teen and not a full adult yet.
Rendan: Is Azryl going to be tormenting Frollo often?
Me: As often as I can muster. I figure it'd work out nicely, considering he knows Frollo's full of shit. Only one way to see how Azryl is going to change what happened and that's to wait and read the new chapters when they arrive.
Zero: You're having way too much fun with this.
Me: Perhaps, but I don't care. I'm correcting an injustice in my opinion and that's all that matters. Doesn't mean I can't have some fun too.
Azryl: Point taken.
Me: OH! And before I forget, Koinonía is a Greek word meaning communion. Since Frollo is a religious nut, I think it fits quite well. Well, that'll do it for me. Be good and be safe everyone, I'm outta here!