Yes I know, it's been a while. Hope you can forgive me :)

Sit back, und ENJOY.


"Oh dear, oh dear, oh dear...!" Feliciano fretted over the unconscious German. "He knows, and now he's out cold, oh dear, I don't even know what to do... it's not like sleep, how do I wake him up?" He was muttering to himself. He took the blond's shoulders and shook them vigorously, trying to wake him up, failing miserably. Feliciano started to feel rising panic in his gut. After all this time, he still did not know much how humans' biology exactly worked. A sudden thought froze him. "Oh dear, what if I... did I kill him...?! Oh no, oh dear God, no...!"
Finally, a groan came from the ground, and lifted Feliciano's spirits immensely.

"Ugh..."

Ludwig was alive, and slowly regaining consciousness.

"Luddy! You're alive! Oh, thank God, I thought you died!" Feliciano knelt with a ruffle of feathers to the German's side, hovering over him, clearly glad he was okay and kind of childish-like in his worry.

"Feliciano..." The German groaned, blinking his features into focus. The angel supported his back and helped him to sit up. The blond kneaded his forehead a bit and then turned to look at him. "Feliciano." He repeated.

Feliciano chuckled nervously, looking at the floor which had suddenly become so very interesting. "Yes?"

"...I hope you have one hell of an explanation for this."


Antonio looked at his two friends and had to refrain himself from laughing.

As usual, Gilbert loved drinking but could not hold his liquor, and became tipsy just by smelling a pilsner beer – his favourite drink. Predictably, after just a few bottles, his usually colourless cheeks had gained the colour of ripe cherries, his eyes were half-lidded and his speech was slurred.

Francis was much better at drinking and took much longer to get drunk, all while drinking beverages which were much more alcoholic, ranging from wines to cocktails or hard liquors. He was an expert, he knew everything which was good to drink, and knew when and how to stop drinking before it was too late. But Francis's fatal weakness was that he was a very social person, and therefore got easily distracted, especially by pretty girls. He would keep on flirting, chatting and laughing with everyone, but especially with his two best friends, and would not pay attention to the real amount of alcohol he was actually drinking.

Knowing these weaknesses, Antonio acted his best to do as if he were drinking as much as they were. Luckily for him, he was more similar to Francis than to Gilbert, therefore if he paid attention, he could take a lot of drinks without losing too much focus.

He did not like cheating about this, especially when his two best friends were involved, however he was much too curious about the whole Notre Dame business. He had to be there at 20.00, he really wanted answers, therefore he had to get his friends drunk enough to not be able to distinguish left from right by that time, otherwise he would not hear the end of it. Just thinking about it made him smile: drunk at barely the start of the night, how typical.

"Toniiiiii, remembur th-that time... kesesesese... when Franny was chased by that crazy DuuuURP-Dutchman?" Gilbert burped, taking another beer.

Antonio laughed, remembering the episode very well, they were all there, and, surprisingly, all quite drunk. Gilbert and Antonio had been so wasted they thought the whole ordeal their friend was going through was hilarious, so they did not even think of helping him out, settling instead for laughing at the chase.

"Mon Dieu, Gil, I still have nightmares..." Francis moaned, burying his face in his hands.

The albino roared with laughter. "With scissors! With freaking scissors!"

"How was I sup – hic – supposed to know he was so pro...tective of his sister?" Francis defended himself, and then looked up dreamily. "She was such a cutie..."

"Snip snip, Francypants, snip... SNIP!" Gilbert mimicked scissors with his fingers, reaching for the Parisian's hair as if he intended to cut it.

"Nnnooooo, stay awayyy...!" Francis shielded himself with his hands from the mock attack.

Antonio laughed, and played along for the evening, until his two friends really were starting to see double. To be precise, only Francis was starting to see double, Gilbert was already snoring and drooling on the table. The Spaniard helped them out, bringing them to a taxi. He paid the driver in advance, and even gave a big tip, in exchange for contacting the restaurant Macéo so that Francis's employees could help them both upstairs. The driver smiled, saying he recognized and somehow was acquainted with 'monsieur Bonnefoy', therefore he could trust him.

Antonio smiled, waving at the taxi as it sped away in the direction of Francis's house. He just hoped the two would not puke in the poor man's taxi due to motion sickness, which is a dozen times worse when drunk.

He looked at his watch. It was 20.18. He was already too late, and he was not exactly near the Notre Dame.

Cursing in Spanish, he started running. He wanted answers from the mad prankster, and he wanted them now!


He honestly did not know what else to expect. The red door on Notre Dame's side was slightly open again, inviting him in, and again no one was in sight. He climbed over the fence, this time without ruining his trousers, and went inside.

Once more, Notre Dame welcomed him with her cold but somehow homey embrace. No one was around, and the lack of any burning candle gave the place an even more abandoned feeling. Antonio's eyes took about a minute to adjust to almost complete darkness.

He glanced at his watch, the luminescent hands telling him it was a quarter to nine. He cursed himself and Francis's resistance to alcohol. What if the prankster had already left?!

He was starting to feel defeated, when suddenly, he heard a click.

And then, madness.

Utter and complete madness.

Someone smashed the organ keys with all their might, while half a dozen of bright yellow and red street lights turned on, all pointing towards the organ, and positioned such as to project a gigantic, distorted shadow upon the instrument and its pipes. The whole thing scared the living daylights out of the Spaniard – he was so startled he almost lost his footing: he remained standing only thanks to a providential pillar. The prankster apparently was not done playing with him.

Taking a few seconds to recover from the scare, Antonio recognized the music: it was Bach's Toccata and Fugue in D minor.

Cliché, but effective.

While the music went on, the shadow danced over the shiny pipes. The prankster was playing the music himself, it was not some recording blasted over some speakers, and with some chagrin Antonio had to admit he was a damn good player.

Then, a sinister cackle reverberated through the church, somehow louder than the booming organ notes.

"Mu-hahahahahahahahahahahAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! MORTAL! What a fool you must be to come back here!"

At that comment, Antonio's eyebrows shot up, and then he smiled. This was even more cliché, and that phrase just sounded silly. Did this guy think they were in the Middle Ages? You would not be able to scare anyone with that.

"You ARE a fool! And DAMNED fool now, because..." A dramatic pause, "...I am..." and then a powerful jam on the organ keys "...the DEVIL!"

With that, the music continued even faster and angrier, and the lights pointed at the organ all turned red. That did not impress Antonio, as anyone with a manual would be able to rig lights to do that.

"I am your worst nightmare! You dared to enter my lair at NIGHT?! No one does that and escapes unscathed!"

However, what did impress the Spaniard in the middle of this mess was that all the candles present on the bottom floor suddenly lit up on perfect timing with the angry tune. Their little flames immediately spread warmth, but all he felt was a chill down his spine. He had to admit that the whole thing suddenly felt a lot more sinister.

He bolted for the stairs. This supposed prankster wanted to scare him, but now he was going to jump-scare him, right while he was playing. He had had right about enough of this nonsense.

In a matter of half a minute, he was standing in the shadows just behind the left side of the massive organ. He could barely distinguish any features of the prankster, because of the scarlet floodlights at his back – he was nothing more than a distorted silhouette. The silhouette kept yelling in a microphone attached to the musical instrument.

"You not only enter ONCE and get punished, oh no! You come BACK, for more! HAHAHAHAHA!"

There he was. It was definitely him. Antonio recognized the short brown hair he had managed to see right before passing out. He almost felt sorry at how delusional this person must have been: to make the whole devil thing even more realistic, the prankster was even wearing dark demon-like wings, the points of which stuck up right behind his shoulders. The whole thing was completed with a pair of horns on his head. Props, obviously, wings and devil horns like the ones you could easily find in any respectable costume shop.

Antonio smiled, relief and triumph washing over him. No silly spirit story, it was a person, just a very dedicated and annoying prankster.

Said prankster roared in the microphone again, oblivious to the fact that his target was right in front of him.

"Why did you even bother coming here?! You thought you would get some ANSWERS?! Ha-!"

Antonio decided that was the right moment to interrupt the nonsense. He stepped out of the shadows, his hand landing heavily on the silhouette's right shoulder – effectively spinning him around to face him and interrupting the music.

"Actually, yes, I'm expecting some."

The silhouette – who's features were still swimming in shadows for Antonio, because now it was him standing in the floodlights – let out a surprisingly girly, startled screech.

"Eeee!"

Every single source of light in Notre-Dame suddenly died, and everything was plunged into complete darkness.


Ludwig had seen Feliciano be immensely grateful he hadn't died but just passed out, but as soon as he confronted him with wanting an explanation, his demeanour changed.

Feliciano suddenly stood up and briskly started walking away without another word, prompting the German to scramble to his feet and follow him. His longer legs easily caught up with the fleeing angel.

"W-wait! Where are you going? What is the meaning of all this?! You can't just-"

"I can't just WHAT, Ludwig?" Feliciano turned and snapped at him blindingly fast, his wings opening up behind him as to make him bigger – like a bird would do when threatened.

Taken aback, Ludwig immediately shut his mouth and stepped back, speechless at the sudden change in demeanour and aggressiveness.

Feliciano's eyes widened slightly before turning downwards. He folded his wings, ashamed. "I'm sorry. That was mean. It's…" he turned and resumed walking again, much slower this time, towards his tower. "It's been a long time since I've been surprised by the sun. Even a longer time since someone caught me. Old habits die hard, I guess…" he said, with a much lower voice.

Ludwig wanted to keep silent, especially after the angel's previous outburst, but he was not understanding a single thing Feliciano was saying. "Surprised by the sun…? Caught? Well, I guess… Wait. No. I'm not getting it." He shook his head.

They were at the base of Feliciano's secret hiding place now. Feliciano made the ladder appear again – from some sort of service door, Ludwig noticed this time – and they started climbing. "Well… I haven't told this to many people, let me think on how I should start. Because yes, you definitely deserve some answers." Feliciano said, smiling mysteriously.

Once they had reached the uppermost level of the tower, Feliciano plopped down on the broken marble slab and motioned towards a pile of scarves, upon which Ludwig sat.

"I… well…" Feliciano started, unsure. "I'm not human."

"You don't say." Ludwig deadpanned, his eyes glancing over to the folded white wings.

"No, no, you don't get it." The angel realized his mistake and gestured wildly. "I'm not an angel either. I'm not one of those beings who live in Heaven and have haloes and play harps and trumpets and whatnot… I just have the shape of one."

Ludwig's brows knit together. "That… doesn't help me understand."

"I don't- look." Feliciano was struggling to explain it to him, perhaps because not even he knew it fully, not really. He slapped the marble slab he was sitting on. "See this old thing? Tell me, what is it."

"It's a marble slab. Probably a basement for a statue." Ludwig answered hollowly.

"Exactly. That is what I am, Ludwig. I am a statue. I just happen to be a living statue, and I just happen to have the shape of an angel. This," Feliciano patted the marble again. "Is my basement. This is where I 'sleep' in order not to get caught." Ludwig was already opening his mouth to ask something, but he shushed him with a raised finger. "And I know I don't sleep like you humans do. Your sleep is completely different, and it fascinates me. Me, on the other hand…" he looked at his open palms "I completely freeze in place when the sun rises. I end up… well, you just saw me. Frozen mid-step. I cannot move or do anything while I'm like that, but I can still see and think. I'm just… immobilized. Basically, I return to my statue state during the day, and during the night I'm allowed to move again. I can move freely wherever and however I want, but never too far from this church." He looked up at him. "But… do you want to know the worst part?"

Uncertain, and still trying to process the absurdity of it all, Ludwig tentatively nodded.

Feliciano smiled widely, but he sounded heartbroken. "It's been going on for centuries, and I still don't know why."


No notes this time. Still getting back into this, but I REALLY want to finish this story. Thank you all for the messages I still get today, and God knows how much I love you all.

See you soon :)

ElizabethScaffie