Okay so this is actually a three-way crossover of The Hunchback of Notre Dame, Doctor Who, and an old Cold War spy movie parody called Top Secret! I have asked everyone I know if they've seen it, and only one guy(besides the family I watched it with) said yes. You don't really need to watch the movie to understand what I'm writing, but I really recommend it. It's freakin' hilarious! :) Anyway, Nigel pretty much explains everything that happened to him in the movie, and off-screen, up until he gets thrown into Doctor Who/HoND. Yes there will be some spoilers if you haven't seen the movie yet. I'll shut up and get to the story, now! Hobey-ho, let's go!
Clopin Trouillefou was setting up his puppet show for the children who would be coming any moment. As he did so, he sang to himself. "Morning in Paris, the city awakes to the bells of Notre Dame. The fisherman fishes, the bakerman bakes to the bells of Notre Dame. To the big bells as loud as the thunder, to the little bells soft as a psalm. And some say the soul of the city's the toll of the bells. The bells of Notre Dame." As he sang, he began to notice that a small crowd of children was gathering around him. Among the children, there was a blond man, not much younger than himself, who seemed particularly interested in his performance. A smile crept onto the gypsy king's face, as he now knew what story he would tell. "Listen, they're beautiful, no? So many colors of sound, so many changing moods. Because you know, they don't ring all by themselves." With this, he pulled out a hand puppet that looked like a miniature version of himself.
"They don't?" the puppet asked with a squeaky voice.
"No, you silly boy. Up there, high, high in the dark bell tower lives the mysterious bell ringer. Who is this creature?"
"Who?"
"What is he?"
"What?"
"How did he come to be here?"
"How?"
"Hush, and Clopin will tell you. It is a tale, a tale of two men and a monster." At the last part, the blond man smiled slightly. Nigel had told the gypsy his story only a few days ago, and already Clopin had begun to work it into a show for the children.
***TOP SECRET!***
Hillary Flammond was walking out of the café when a young man with dark hair and the beginnings of a goatee bumped into her. "Are you Hillary Flammond?" he asked with a thick French accent.
"Yes."
"Then I have something for you, from a man called the Torch. It has been passed down through my family for centuries, and it was ordered that whoever was living at this particular point in time would make sure you got this." He took a faded letter out of his pocket and handed it to her. Astonished, she took it.
"But...I just saw Nigel a few moments ago. How could this letter be from him if it's been your family for so long?"
"You'll have to read it to find out, I guess. You'd be the first, besides him, of course. But wait until you are completely alone, and don't tell anyone else what he wrote." Hillary just gawked at the young man as if he had just beamed down from Mars, but found herself nodding in agreement. "Alright then, au revoir, mademoiselle. I do hope we meet again." With that, he bowed and left. Hillary looked down at the ancient-looking letter in her hands, then put it in her pocket and went back inside.
"Hey, Hillary. Did you find Nigel? Hillary? Are you alright...? What happened?" Nick asked her questions repeatedly so that she could hardly get a word in.
"I...I couldn't find him," she said when the American had finally finished. "It's like he disappeared..."
"Maybe he just needed to get away from all of this," Du Quois piped up. "I mean, he's been running the resistance for years, and it's certainly taken it's toll on everyone, even him."
"Oui. Perhaps this spy was the straw that broke the Torch's back," Deja Vu added.
"Perhaps." But Hillary wasn't so sure. Quickly and quietly, she made her way back outside, searching for a lonely spot in which to read Nigel's supposed letter. Nick made a move to follow her, but Chocolate Mousse stopped him.
"Let her go. She needs time, and so does Nigel. They've both been through a lot." Nick scowled, but sat back down. Meanwhile, Hillary had found a shop that had long been abandoned, and carefully made her way inside. Certain that she was alone, she sat down against the back wall, opened the letter, and began to read.
***TOP SECRET!***
Dearest Hillary,
I'm writing to you to explain why I've just disappeared. I wasn't found by the Germans. I wasn't killed in the streets, at least, not in any conventional way. Indeed, by the time you read this, I will be long dead. However, if you go looking for a body, I am not entirely sure you will find one. I'm sorry if this alarms you, for that was not my intent.
Alright, this rambling has gotten me absolutely nowhere. Perhaps I should just start with a confession. I am the spy who has been sending homing pigeons to the Germans. The bird that Latrine killed and showed you all was indeed mine, and I put all of the blame on your new beau. I have to admit that I wasn't completely motivated by self-preservation; part of me was jealous of his relationship with you. After all, you were my first ever love. I was more than devastated when those Russian pirates refused to return for you.
Speaking of the pirates, they eventually shaped me into the spy I am, today. They did things to me on that ship, abused me, and used me in ways that you can't even imagine. I started as a simple cabin boy, but that didn't last long. As soon as they found out I could handle myself fairly well, they turned me into their own personal gladiator, forcing me to fight any prisoners that they took. I was forced to kill so many innocent men...and I was too good at it for them to let me go easily. Luckily, while we were docked in a German port, I learned that they were wanted by the government. I was able to tip off the local authorities, and when we got back to the ship, there was an ambush waiting.
However, it didn't go exactly as I had planned. They apprehended me, along with the foul pirates, and I was once again a pawn in someone else's game. They refused to let me go unless I aided the Germans as a spy. I had every intention of accepting, then blowing up the whole thing in their faces, but they seemed to know this, and quickly showed me that any such attempts would be futile, and result in painful termination. I didn't have a choice.
Soon, I found myself at the head of the French Underground. Those men gave me so much hope! They made me realize that maybe if we resisted and fought hard enough, we could over power the communist party! Germany would be free. France, Poland, and all of the other countries they had conquered would be free. I would finally be free! I stopped sending birds, and we were extremely successful. Then they sent me a message that made my blood run cold. They had taken your father, and threatened that they would kill you if both of us didn't cooperate. I was forced to continue spying, and he was forced to work on a horrible weapon. I came up with a new plan: send them the bare minimum, and pray that he would escape.
Then you and Nick Rivers showed up, and revealed his location. Hillary, you must know that as soon as I heard, I planned to go in with the resistance and rescue him. However, I still had to send a report to the Germans. I was going to send them on a wild goose chase so that the prison wouldn't be as heavily guarded when we attacked it, but alas, Latrine found and killed my bird. The message was lost.
After your beau's little concert, which really wasn't necessary to prove he wasn't a spy, I went outside to clear my head, and think of a new plan. That's when they arrived. Not the Germans, or police. Not anything...mortal. They looked like ordinary statues, carved to look like angels who were in perpetual pain. It was disturbing to say the least. They didn't belong in that alleyway. However, what truly frightened me was the fact that they moved as soon as I couldn't see them. Every time I blinked, they moved closer and soon had me cornered. I was absolutely terrified! I tried to keep my eyes open, but I couldn't stop the inevitable from happening. I blinked. It was only an instant, but somehow, when I opened my eyes, I was in a completely different world.
***NOTRE DAME***
The streets of Paris were darker than I'd ever seen them, and were not paved. I had been sent far into the past, though I wasn't sure exactly how far. In search of answers, I wandered down to the docks. That wasn't my intended destination, of course, but that was indeed where I found myself. I wasn't alone. There were four gypsies, trying to gain safe passage into Paris, three men and one woman. She was holding a bundled up baby in her arms.
Suddenly, there were arrows flying through the air, and I heard hoof-beats quickly approaching behind me. I had no time to warn them. The dark rider came tearing around the corner, and I was barely able to scramble out of the way. "Judge Claude Frollo!" one of the gypsies murmured in fear.
"Bring these gypsy vermin to the palace of justice," he ordered, then turned to the woman with the bundled up baby. "You there, what are you hiding?" Before she could even get a word out, he answered his own question. "Stolen goods, no doubt." As he gave the order to take the bundle away, I made my way to the top of a building to get a better vantage point. Something told me I would be better able to help the woman from up high. She ran. He pursued. I leaped from rooftop to rooftop to try and find them. I managed to pull ahead of them by taking a turn earlier than the woman was able to, and waited for a moment. As soon as I saw them come 'round the corner of the alley, I knew what I had to do. The woman was short and quick on her feet, but Frollo was on a horse. I decided to use this, and the rafters that were jutting out from the roofs of buildings to my advantage. I positioned myself on one of these rafters just beyond a hanging sign that I knew would hit him in the face, giving me enough time to make my move. It worked just as I planned. Right as he swatted the sign away, I swung down from my rafter and kicked him square in the chest, knocking him off of his horse. Now riderless, the creature cantered to a stop, allowing the woman to jump over a railing and sprint away. Frollo, on the other hand, looked up at me with such hatred that I nearly flinched. "How dare you attack a judge while he is in pursuit of a criminal!"
"She was not a criminal! I attacked you to save two innocent lives!"
"Two? You were not in danger, and neither was I, until you showed up!"
"You really are blind, then. She ran from you in order to protect her child! I would've thought that was obvious!"
"No, you are wrong. She was protecting the spoils of her gypsy ways, and only disguised them as a baby to try and fool me!"
"Do stolen goods squirm and cry all on their own?!"
"Enough!" he bellowed, and lunged at me. However, my youth and reflexes allowed me to spring out of the way. I did not expect what came next. Frollo got up quickly, drew a knife, and lunged at me again, all in one fluid movement. This blow, I could not dodge, and he slashed a bright red line across my chest. I cried out in pain and tried to disarm him. It was no use, even for me, so I ran in the same direction as the woman, vaulting over the railing. I could hear her pleading for the archdeacon to give her and her child sanctuary from the law, so I ignored the throbbing pain in my chest, and followed her voice. Sure enough, I found myself in the courtyard of Notre Dame. I arrived just in time to see the archdeacon usher the two gypsies inside. He must have seen me, as well, because he looked quite alarmed. Too late, I realized that Frollo had followed me, as he rode up and grabbed me by the back of my collar. I thought for sure I was going to die in that very moment.
"Stop!" cried the archdeacon.
"Where is the gypsy vermin?!" Frollo hissed back, and I scowled up at him. Before either I or the archdeacon could utter a word, the young woman ran out of the church.
"I'm here!" she cried. "Please let that man go! I'm the one you want!" I looked at her in astonishment.
"No, miss, I can't let you-" I tried to protest, but she cut me off.
"I'm the one who got you into this mess, so I have to take responsibility."
"With all due respect, I got myself into this. I could've left you alone and been perfectly safe, but I didn't want you or your child to fall into this monster's hands. Now please, go back inside!" Despite my protests, she stayed where she was, and Frollo cast me aside. I landed roughly on the cobblestones, and grunted in pain.
"Relax, child. Your time shall come soon enough. If she wants to die now, then let her," he said with an evil smirk.
"NO!" I yelled, getting up as quickly as I could, but I was too late. He took his knife and slew the girl in cold blood. The archdeacon ran and caught her limp form in his arms, hoping he could save her, but Frollo had already turned to advance on me.
"See? I told you to wait your turn." Terrified and angry, I backed away from him, biding my time.
"No. You will pay for her life with your own! I swear on my life that you will not get away with this!" I lunged forward and knocked the knife away from him, but he caught my throat in his other hand and flung me backwards. I landed at the base of a great well, and almost cracked my skull against it. Amazingly, I was able to shake off the impact and get back up, only to have him corner me. In a last-ditch attempt to escape him, I placed both hands on the edge of the well, lifted myself up, and kicked him away. Unfortunately, I lost my balance and fell backward. Normally, I would've plummeted to the bottom of the well and either drowned or broken my neck. Instead, I found myself not only outside of the well, but completely dry and unharmed. Twenty years later.
