1.
The Stairs of Notre Dame
Just listen…this beautiful melody… The emotions that flow inside every soul when they hear this heavenly music…
It comes from far away into this magnificent church, this wonder of Gothic architecture, Notre Dame of Paris…
Oh, the melody of those bells used to be magical once! Oh, yes, long time ago it was… It was when those bells indeed did not ring by themselves…
Up there, into the bell tower of Notre Dame used to be a legend, this was where the mysterious Hunchback used to live…
Who was he?
How did he look like?
What was he doing up there?
Listen to my voice, cause once upon a time was a man…and a monster…
It was a dark night of January and snow was falling from the sky steadily, covering everything in a white blanket; powdering with whiteness the sinful reality of our world… Paris was silent, the thousands of people that resided in this city were long now to their warm beds, covered in their blankets and perhaps dreaming of the next day and what that day was to bring to them. The roads were empty and covered in a thin layer of snow and ice, while the small puddles of water here and there were long now frozen under the heavy, winter wind…
Paris in the end of 15th century still had some of the old beauty that is now almost vanished from this world despite the awful smells coming from every narrow alleyway and every swamp close by. The buildings were all close to each other, enormous and small all together were gathered, around the great church of Notre Dame, which now stood there, like a silent, shadowy giant, a guardian that was guarding Paris from above, watching everything and understanding everything…
The city seemed like a huge, white hive from above, the way houses were so squeezed tight with each other, letting a few, narrow paths in-between, like the veins in a giant body which breathed and slept tight. The river was another vein getting through the city, large and frozen. Some small pieces of ice had gathered at the edges of the riverbanks.
There was a single boat in the frozen water. A cloaked man was pushing the bottom with a long stick, forcing the heavy boat to move smoothly. The air was freezing and his breath was coming out in small, white clouds as he did so. The boat was packed with shivering, cloaked Gypsies, who were gathering as close to each other as possible, hoping to feel some warmth in their bones. Their bodies, tanned and skinny, did not seem made for this kind of climate. They were slithering on the waters like shadows, hoping to get past this spot and get into the city without being noticed.
Everyone seemed unable to settle, always fearing of someone might pursue them or capture them on the spot or even kill them. There was only one thing that made them even more unsettled; a baby's cry. The baby was constantly crying loudly, asking for its mother's breast or perhaps some warm hug to make its poor little hands feel a bit warmer. The cry would be heartbreaking if fear wasn't in their hearts now… But they didn't show any sympathy to the creature. They only showed repulse and fear.
"We'll be seen!" someone whispered rigidly
"Make him stop crying!" another whispered in the same tone to the mother
The young Gypsy girl glared at them and then glared at the baby that was wrapped up in her skinny arms, crying all the time with its strong lungs.
"Stop!" she said through clenched teeth shaking it
There was no warmth in her eyes, no maternal affection, just repulse and anger. The truth to be told; she wanted to get rid of that baby. She had heard there was a basket at the stairs of Notre Dame, a small basket where mothers would place the unwanted babies in, hoping that someone else might take them under their wing instead. She had, of course, considered the idea of simply killing it; throwing it into the frozen river letting it, either drown or freeze to death. Perhaps that would save her the trouble and the risk of getting up to the grand church and leave it there, however she had heard countless times about "sin" and about "hell". Even her, who wasn't Christian herself, felt a great shiver down her spine and was always stopping herself from killing the baby.
Perhaps, it would freeze to death in this cold night at the end of January after all. Perhaps some priest would pick it up, she did not care which. From the moment she left it by the church, it would be in so-called God's hands now. She would have no responsibility, no guilt in her soul if the baby were taken by the cold before some human hand did!
And so, to their discomfort, her violent shaking did very little stopping the crying. If anything, it was increasing and becoming stronger. To their dismay, yet another thing was added to the list. The boat, instead of continuing the way up the river started turning towards the riverbank as the cloaked boatman was pushing the muddy bottom towards that direction. There was an increasing mutter of discomfort from his passengers but he did not stop and led the boat there. He jumped off the wooden object and onto the powdered with frost, riverbank.
"What's the meaning of this!" one of them demanded
The others followed him outside, seeming all the angrier, but still not daring raising their voices. The boatman extended his hand as if expecting something to be placed in it.
"Four more golden coins" he said in his low, husky voice, "to take you to Paris!"
The others did not get the chance to argue or protest for an arrow slashed the air and got stuck right through the boatman's chest, who only looked at it with wide eyes, as if he did not believe it and then he collapsed onto the snow with a stewed thud. Panic did not have time to spread either for soldiers immediately lounged to the spot, pointing their sharp spears towards the small team of Gypsies.
"You're under arrest in the name of His Majesty, the King of France, by the order of His Eminence the cleric Judge!" one of them said in authoritative voice.
And it was when it happened; the cold, dry sound of the hoofs, crumpling the ice beneath and then there was a heavy shadow approaching. It was a massive black horse, a mass of clear muscles and heavy bones, breathing in and out heavily as if it had ascended from Hell itself. However its rider seemed even darker in their eyes. The first of them widened his eyes in horror.
"This is Judge Aknadin!" he said in terror
The man riding the horse had a narrow face, skin tightly fitting upon the bones and there was nothing warm on that face. Everything seemed sharp on him; the chin, the nose, the mouth even the pair of dark brown eyes that were now gazing down at the Gypsies in absolute disgust. His hair was long till his shoulder blades and white like the snow around. His beard was pointy as well, hanging from his chin. The man seemed to be over his middle sixties but he could be even younger than that, or even older. It was hard to tell for he was hardened like a rock. However, whatever his age was, his eyes were still alive and sharp as if he were some vengeful youngster. He was dressed in black robes and he had thrown a pitch-black cloak over his shoulders for the bitter cold. At the sight of this terrible Judge, the Gypsies lost their will to fight and they practically let the soldiers grab them and handcuff them.
"Bring these Gypsy vermin to the Palace of Justice!" Aknadin said in a heavy voice that was dripping venom
"You there! What do you hiding?" a soldier was pulling the mother by the sleeve
The mother was hiding the baby away from the soldier's grasp. It wasn't out of crisis of mother affection, she just feared even more for her life. If the soldier, if the JUDGE saw the baby…then she would be called a witch or worse! They shouldn't see it! Under no conditions!
"Stolen goods, no doubt" the Judge said coldly as ice, "Take them from her!"
The woman felt desperate. She only kicked the guard, catching him completely off guard and she broke a run, with her feet almost touching her back. She ran and ran but the haunting sound of the horse coming after her! The nightmarish stallion was after her and so was the judge. She turned around to a narrow alley and ran…. Ran…
If the alley weren't so narrow, she sure would have no hope outrunning the massive animal. The woman came to a desperate running, with her breath hissing in her throat as the frozen air was burning it from the inside. She run and took a sharp turn. The horse slightly slipped and she got the chance to run upwards to a narrow stairway and into a new alley. To this crazy hunt, which resembled a fox being chased by armies and dogs at the same time, the woman could only run and hope that the shop and inn signs would do the job to discourage or even throw the judge off the horse. Unfortunately the judge man was only getting angrier every time he had to hit a sign off his face before he hit on it. Once or twice the horse had approached her so close that she could feel its breath burning her nape.
Soon the dark mass of the church, a mass of stone came before her like a shadow, but to her was equal to the light of hope. She had made it to Notre Dame! Just a little more! She ran onto the stairs, surprised how much strength fear can give you for she was able to run even when her lungs burned for air, throwing the baby aside. She was doomed anyway. The child wouldn't doom her more. The baby fell onto the snow, onto the snowed stair-head of the church but she paid no mind. She rushed at the massive oak door, banging it in despair.
"Sanctuary! Please give me sanctuary!" she screamed half-crying
No one came and she spotted the dark horse coming for her, like Death himself was coming to claim his next pray! Wits escaped her, leaving the church to come to a new run towards the city, but the field was clear now, the horse easily caught up. The Judge grabbed her hair violently, pulling her down. The woman fell behind, her head hit onto the stairs, breaking her neck and killing her almost instantly. As if the baby felt the death of its mother, no matter what kind of a mother she was, started to cry louder than before from its lying spot… The Judge heard it. He dismounted and curious as he was he approached the baby. He bent down and picked it up.
"A baby?" he asked in disbelief
Curiosity beat him once more and raised the cover of the baby's face. His face twisted in horror at what he saw.
"A monster!" he gasped and covered the baby's face again
He looked around desperately; somehow this evil creature should be erased from the face of the world! His salvation appeared to be a deep well. He approached it with heavy steps. He held the baby over the well's black lip, ready to throw this demonic infant to its cold doom when…
"NO!" the Archdeacon cried out
The dark Judge turned his head towards the man in disgust and scorning.
"This is nothing but an unholy demon! I'm sending it back to Hell, where it belongs!"
"See there…" the Archdeacon said, ignoring him and showing at the dead body, "See, the innocent blood you spilt to the steps of Notre Dame!"
"I'm guiltless; She ran I pursued" the man said idly, showing no guilt indeed.
"What a cruel man you are!" the older man cried, "Now you want to kill an infant too. How far can you go?"
"My conscious is clear!" the Judge argued again
"You might say so! You can lie to yourself all you want! Say that you committed nothing wrong, Claude Aknadin! However look at the child! How can this child be of any blame! Tell me!"
For the first time in his life, Judge Claude Aknadin did what he was told and took another glance to the baby, removing its cover. It was a tiny creature, with the slightly tanned complexion of the gypsies but still lighter than most of them, however the tiny body was full with greenish birthmarks, which resembled scars from claws of some demon. Its hair was unique; tri-colored and spiky like a small star in magenta, black and golden bolt-like bangs. The most terrifying thing onto the baby was, the eyes; they were a pair of pure scarlet color, the color of Devil himself, and when he opened them, Aknadin saw that they were slit-pupil like the eyes of cats and demons. He had never seen eyes terrifying like those but at the same time…teary, almost begging.
Without wanting to, the fierce Judge went teary. Images flashed through his mind of his own, tough life, being alone in a cold room, with no one to take care of him or embrace him, his parents dying too early for him to handle, himself being hated and feared for what he was back then and for what he had become now… Without realizing it or before being able to stop himself, he felt his heart somehow fill with tenderness for this little creature, which now seemed like the only ray of sunshine in his miserable, dark life. It was as if the demonic eyes of this baby had showed him a Heavenly Light that no books ever showed him before. It was as if saving this baby might bring him closer to his Salvation. Without noticing he caressed the baby's head tenderly.
It was a boy and from the looks of it, strong enough despite the deformation of his body, the scars he got before his birth.
"I shall take care of this child…" he whispered practically startling the Archdeacon, "I will raise him…as if he were my own…"
He looked up, towards the dark masses of the bell towers, hovering over his head like judges to his action. Snowflakes were dancing all around, breaking the blackness of the sky.
"I will protect him…and hide him from everything and everyone…right here, to the very place he was left to die…"
He looked at the baby, smirking slightly.
"Perhaps…he will prove himself useful to me too…"
He held the boy closer to his chest and the boy, surprisingly stopped crying at last.
It was nearly dawning 27th January at that year of 1462.
This is a birthday gift for FairyofThunder22's birthday. (Deviantart Account) Happy Birthday dear!
I wasn't planning on starting this story just yet but in the end I wanted to make her something so there was nothing else I could do at the moment so...here's the first chapter of something like a request she made to me...
Humchback of Notre Dame in Yu-Gi-Oh style but at the same time not a crossover either. Not entirely.
In order to make this I will use elements from both book and disney's movie and of course add things of my own
As you can see Aknadin is Claude Frollo in a way and Atem might be Quasimodo.
I am sorry my friend this introduction is not the best. It is too late in the night here and I wanted to make it in time for your birthday! I hope it is okay to you dear...
Yes the mother did not want to save Atem, but leave him there for someone else to get him. That is a clue from the book (as well as the willingness in Aknadin to take him), where it is mentioned about the basket outside the church for the unwanted children.
Yes I used the first scene of the movie but added my own elements inside as you can see
I did a minor editing to make the "cover" image.
I don't know when I'll update this cause I would like to finish with others too but depending on how much this story will be desired and/or commented by my audience I might change the plans Thank you all.
[The title for the chapter was inspired by the greek title of "Bells of Notre Dame" cause in the Greek version they sings "at the stairs of Notre Dame" instead of "bells" Plus this is where the actual plot happens ]