A fire, wide and hearty, was ablaze before the silhouette of a man. By the sound of her arrival, he spun around while the weeping came to a halt.
The vast room was stone cold and dim. A clock ticked from the far end and the sound was so stark against the heavy silence, every report caused her to flinch.
It felt like a tomb, just as cold and dark and deathly quiet. Perhaps the room would become her tomb and harvest her very last breath.
Against the backdrop of depicted hellfire, the figure, none other than the judge, straightened to his towering stature.
"I see you have escaped." His voice, rich and soft as silk, came with a surprisingly steady baritone despite his woeful disposition. "Shocking."
Esmeralda narrowed her eyes, braving a step away from the only escape to delve further into the chamber.
"Don't act surprised," she said tightly, fist already tight.
Frollo snorted, "Hardly. Your kind-."
"I don't care what you think of my kind." Esmeralda interjected, migrating closer. Her hand hovered over a portion of her skirt where, beneath the fabric, a dagger hid.
"So you've come to claim my life then?" He replied offhandedly and turned to fully face her. His tall frame against the bright fire burned into her vision. Even when she blinked, he was still there.
She didn't need to see his countenance to know a smirk played his lips.
Esmeralda replied dryly. "It's only fitting." She was closer now.
"Should you so choose, you soul will be slotted for eternal damnation. Is that something you truly desire?"
"Yes," she admitted, gritting her teeth. A fragrant caressed her senses then her eyes dropped, spotting the toppled bottles of wine that lied between the items and books upon his desk. The closer she came, the stronger the smell of fermented grapes greeted her in the dark.
He was drunk.
Her confidence soared as soon as she realized she was at an advantage.
He was inebriated. His balance would be off. His judgement misguided. His death could be blamed on a number of things if she played it right. Perhaps she could fling him from a window. The fall itself would maim him enough to hide the stab wounds. Or a deadly slip could be managed, throwing the minister into the bellies of flame and hearth.
She had to act quickly.
Reaching beneath her skirt, she freed the blade and lunged.
A hand shot up, catching her firmly by the throat just as she closed in. The other ensnared her small wrist, twisting it unnaturally so a slice of pain raced up her arm. It response, her fingers splayed and she pulled back while the dagger fell to the floor.
Disarmed, Esmeralda yelped and Frollo began to move quickly, pushing her back while her bare feet stumbled to stay righted. Her retreating lead her to the cold stone wall directly behind.
His strength was an alarming surprise. She could smell the rich wine on his breath and feel how hot his body ran against her. Any thought of consequence to his actions were deadened to his senses.
God have mercy, she made a mistake coming here.
"Have you come to finish what you started?" His voice shook, hot and polluted with wine. "You damned my soul and now you're here to collect it? Have you not tormented me enough?"
"Any torment you endure is righteous." Esmeralda snarled as tears threatened her eyes. "You deserve every bit of the pain!"
"You are my torment and my pain!" Frollo shouted, grabbing her firmly by the shoulders and pinning her against the wall. Even in the dim shadows, his dark eyes held a familiar carnage Esmeralda saw in many men. This thing was no man. He was lesser than the gypsies he persecuted.
"You disgust me," her trembling voice dripped with hatred.
A crack splintered through the cavernous room as the back of his hand found swift purchase across her face. Stars exploded over her vision as she tried to stagger back, meeting the cold wall a second time.
Vision swimming with blots of lights, her hand came up to examine the stinging welt as her knees weakened and gave.
Then a scene of the most terrible confusion ensued.
The white blots grew, covering her vision, blanketing the dark chamber, swallowing her vision entirely. A smell reached her and a heaviness soon thereafter that pulled her down and down and down into blinding light. She needed to lie down, she realized, reaching for the floor. But the floor was gone, only air met her grasping hands. The heaviness grew, conquering her arms and her legs and even her chest and eyes. A fatigue she'd never experience beforehand consumed her and then she saw something in the light.
The definition of a ceiling emerged. A window on her left where the blinding sun made entry.
A hospital bed.
The incessant tone of a machine.
A blanket spread over her body and tucked neatly beneath her arms and someone was holding her hand.
She remembered everything.