Jehan understood at once why they called it a hangover, for it felt as if the blackest of clouds were over his head with no intention of clearing until the following morning. How the smell of the wine earlier had been intoxicating, yet tonight, it only added to his nausea. The aching in his skull ebbed and flowed like a cold yet, yet his pain was always there. His thirst remained after each slow drink of water, and his head felt fit to split open.

He hadn't expected to meet his contact here, but the Watcher knew Jehan needed to hear this. He wouldn't like it. The young lord scowled at the hired assassin over the rim of his goblet, his thick brows quirked towards the man.

"You're certain of this?" he grumbled, almost inaudibly.

The Watcher shot the distinguished public official a look of disgust. "You really want me to say everything twice? Do I look uncertain?" he retorted angrily, taking a swig of his own goblet of wine. "Your son is in love with her. I've seen it for myself; the way they behave around each other is appalling and disgusting. No wonder you want them dead. There's no changing their minds. I cannot touch either one while they are on Holy Ground. The squire was not a problem, given he was a nobody and won't be missed, but the boy on the other hand, well…his absence from the cathedral would be noticed, as would hers."

"What do you suggest we do, then?" asked Jehan sardonically, wanting this over and done with already. "And speaking of the squire, that was careless, and confronting my son as well. You could have been caught and if you wouldn't have killed the—"

"But I wasn't."

"If you were, however, it would have ruined everything."

"But I wasn't," repeated the Watcher coldly, fixing Jehan with an ice-cold stare devoid of any warmth. "If you want my professional opinion, I am of the mind that you cannot take care of your son the way you want. At least, not as long as while he remains on Holy Ground. Too many prying

eyes, you know…"

The killer fell silent and drank heavily.

"But?" prodded Jehan, annoyed at the man's

vagueness.

"If I can arrange to kidnap your son and deliver him to you at the Palace of Justice, or better yet, go after the girl, then it would give the man an excuse to leave her precious sanctuary in order to save his dearly beloved future wife…until death do them part, anyways" he said, the beginnings of an evil sneer tugging at the corners of his mouth. "You do whatever you want to the boy in your own home, in your own territory where no one but you can lord your actions, pun intended, by the way. Absolutely intended," he chuckled, taking another huge swig from his tankard. "And the girl…she's mine. We all get what we want. Everybody wins. Especially me."

Jehan fingered one of the gold coins in his hand, mulling over the idea in his brain while he admired the gleam of the brightness of the gold in

the light of the tavern. "Your plan is absolutely despicable," he said lowly. "But…I love it."

"Do it, then?" inquired the Watcher cautiously, regarding the Lord with the slightest traces of trepidation.

"Whatever it takes," snarled Jehan, rising

from the corner table of the tavern and tossing the

pouch of coins to the killer. "This is, after all, what I

pay you for, is it not?" he demanded.

The Watcher grinned, rendering the lord feeling uneasy. "Yes."

"You and I will not meet again until things have progressed accordingly," the young lord commanded, his tone cold and his back turned as

he swiftly exited the tavern, leaving the Watcher alone.

The Watcher mulled over the turn of events his life had taken. He had been good at first. Nobody ever suspected a thing, and the Watcher was everything you could have ever asked a person to be. But when he gained your trust, when you had a bond so deep you couldn't run away, that's when the monster inside him appeared and took over. He never needed weapons to hurt his victims, though they certainly helped.

Just a word would do, and the girls—or guys—were crying at his feet, begging him to stay. Even if he won't really go away, he made them believe it. The simple thought that he could leave was enough to make his victims pray to him. And he knew it. He knew he made them all an addict to his painful words, to his hits and sweet words right after. He was the world's torturer, their pain disguised as angel.

And even when they were crying on the floor,

wondering why and praying to him for the pain to stop, you still loved him.

It was unnerving to see the cold eyes of a snake glaring at you from across the way from a human head, one bereft of love, devoid of

conscience.

Causing pain was his addiction, right before ending their lives. The Watcher only ever smiled when killing someone, or whenever he could be around the girl.

She was…if the gods were real, then Renee Barreau was their masterpiece. If a beam of light could weave itself into a strand, that was the girl's hair. He had always thought it glowed from within rather than relying on the

sunshine. It was as if the universe had conjured her matter in a ripple of laughter—as if all she was composed of was a sort of music and loving happiness. He felt his violent urges begin to tingle in the tips of his fingers.

His stomach remained quite strong, with his affinity for violence and bloodshed, but the only thing that might turn it were details of Jehan's son's nocturnal activities with his prize. The girl would be grateful once he took away from that fiend, a woman of her caliber and her unfortunate affliction of being forced into marrying that monster would be grateful for the opportunity to remove the stain from her name.

The Watcher couldn't understand how the cathedral would allow it. Perhaps they had a high tolerance for unnatural behavior. Scowling and pulling his hood tighter over his food, he tossed a single coin on the table for the barkeep and rose, exiting the tavern without a single word.

Cold stalked through him like the specter death, the bitter wind of the frigid night laughed as it tore right to his heart and turned his blood to icy sludge. His muscles began to ache, but he ignored the pain and pushed on.

Time to pay his angel another visit…


Determination drove Renee and Alice on. Tugging on the hood of her robe that much tighter, she hurried along, glancing every so often at the cathedral in the distance, the nun grumbling darkly to herself under her breath. It was beginning to get dark, the coming night teasing the sky into twilight. Fear sat heavy on Renee's heart as she walked as fast as she could. Everyone warned her what happened to women, married or not, who were out past the curfew. Eyes plastered to the ground, she stared at her boots, the tips of her toes inside them freezing. The cold painted bright red on her cheeks and the wind threw her short blonde hair around aimlessly into the cold bitter wind of winter. It was Christmas. With each stride her mind became clearer, more resolute, as if the growing physical distance between them had now become an emotional chasm. As the nascent fading sunlight caressed her skin, promising a new dawn, a new beginning, she entombed her memories of him in thick walled ice. Then, abruptly pausing to close her eyes and take in a deep breath of dewy air, she steeled herself to only think of her future from here on in. A future she would mold, build, direct. Then with each stride after that she felt more in charge, in command of her own mind, body and soul. She was a girl walking into her own destiny, a destiny that lay squarely in her own hands. Though at the moment, she stalled, much to Alice's chagrin. "We really should be heading back, Renee."

Alice's tone was clipped and hard. The nun was losing her patience.

"In a moment," snapped Renee. Two could play at that game, and besides…she wasn't leaving until she found him the perfect gift. To her knowledge, at least from what limited information Alice and Maria and the others in the cathedral, and, she guessed, to a lesser extent, no one had ever given Quasi a gift before. Well, now that she was in his life, she aimed to change that.

"What on earth is so important that it cannot wait until tomorrow, dear?"

"A gift," answered Renee simply, fingering a silver dagger in her hands, admiring the sheen on the silver. She liked how it glinted in the light, like the silvery beams of the moonlight. The young woman wondered if the man could use a new knife for his carving table. The one he used right now was worn, old. "It has to be perfect..."

Alice huffed in frustration, brushing a lock of gray hair that had come loose from her messy bun back behind her ear. "You know, I don't care anymore. We've been out here for hours and you haven't decided. I'm going back to the church. It's freezing out here, you'll catch your death, and the curfew's coming."

At that remark, Renee's head whiplashed upwards, her blue eyes wide. "Huh? Hey, hold on a second! You can't just leave me!" Renee protested.

Alice rolled her eyes but paused at the desperation in Renee's voice. "Uh, what do you mean?" she asked, turning back to stare at the young woman.

"What the hell do you think I mean?" shouted Renee. "I can't just walk back to the cathedral on my own with the curfew coming and there's a full-scale war going on in Paris right now!" She huffed and stomped her foot in agitation. "You have to come with me, Al, I mean…we're friends, aren't we? Alice?"

Alice scoffed and turned back away. "I'm sure you can handle all that on your own. You're a smart girl, Barreau. I've got better things to do than babysit you."

"Wha…?" Renee felt her temper swell, and before she knew what she was doing she was flipping the nun off, though it mattered not no one knew what the gesture meant. "Screw you, you old heartless hag!" she hollered, and turned back to the merchant, who was seeming to fight his desire to laugh or call for help now.

Renee visibly winced as she realized how loud her voice carried and echoed, startling a few nearby pigeons who'd been pecking near her boots, hoping for a morsel or crumb. "Oh." She flinched as several pairs of heads swiveled in her general direction to stare at her, a few muttering under their breaths for her little outburst.

Blushing, she turned back to the vendor and wordlessly, she slipped him a few coins and slipped the dagger into her bag.

Renee turned to go, when the sound of a crossbow firing behind her caught her ear. She froze, and narrowly missed her right cheek being grazed by an arrow. "Huh?" She turned around slowly; her hands raised in the air. "What?"

Damn it… Though Renee did not know his face, she recognized his dark green hooded tunic. "You," she whispered. "How long have you been there?"

"Oh. Hello, miss," came his soothing voice. "A while. I was waiting for you to be alone," he sighed, almost sounding bored. He poked the tip of his loaded crossbow into the small of her back, just near the center of her spine. "I didn't want to have to face the two of you all by myself," he remarked smartly, sounding amused. "Don't look around," he warned, though he stepped slightly to the front so he could look at her, his face turned to the side, rendering it impossible for her to make out any details of the Watcher's face. "Stay quiet."

"What do you want?" Renee demanded hotly, feeling frozen, rooted to her spot. Her voice was calm, though there was no denying the note of fear that lingered. "I thought I made it perfectly clear that I have no interest in Jehan."

"You see…there's…something I want you to help me with. A—a favor."

"I'm not helping you or Jehan. Get out of my way," she whisper-hissed through clenched teeth. The fear travelled in Renee's veins but never made it to her facial muscles or skin. Her complexion remained pale and matt, her blue eyes as steady as if she were shopping for shoes instead of talking to one of Jehan Frollo's hired goons. Renee let out an understated sigh and turned to leave, showing she wasn't afraid to turn her back, and that's when it hit her in the arm.

"Do not walk away from me," he warned, sounding on the verge of shouting. Renee recognized the shift in his tone all too well. It was what John used to do whenever he would be on the verge of having one of his meltdowns.

"I can do whatever I want," laughed Renee, not looking back at him. "You cannot threaten me. Kill me if you really want, but if you kill me here now, then that only proves me right. Your master you work for is a man with no morals."

She heard the man sling his crossbow back over his shoulder and begin to scale the walls of the cathedral when the sound of another arrow being loaded reached Renee's eardrums, and the whizzing sound filled her ears, and then she felt it. A sharp, unbelievable pain like nothing she felt before in her life.

Damn me and my carelessness! Out of the corner of her eye, she saw something sharp and huge coming towards her. She tried to jump out of the way, but it was much too late for that. Renee screamed, giving away her position to the others, but the pain was unbearable. She collapsed to the ground, clutching at her ribcage as something warm and sticky, garish in its crimson red leaked out. Blood, she thought wildly. My own. Quasi is going to hate me for this. Maybe it would be better if they just killed me now. Just do it, let me lay here and bleed out. It'll be good for me. Anything but this.

As she laid there, she saw an image of her family. Of her father, mother, only this time, Quasi was there too, but... he was different. In her hallucination, he had no deformities, and he was quite handsome, with a beautiful, gentle smile and the blue of his eyes was even more radiant than she'd thought possible. Was this a vision of her future? Her vision clouded, coming to her in peaks and lulls slowly. Renee's eyesight blurred, but not because tears were welling up.

Everything became fuzzy; then the young woman saw nothing at all. Her consciousness was floating through an empty space filled with a thick static. Throughout the inky space her heartbeats pounded loudly, echoing in her ears, alongside fading pleas for help amid the sound of low murmurings, and what sounded like someone whimpering.

Feeling in her body drained away until finally all was black.

The kidnapping was over in a second. One minute the girl had been there, staring at something, at what, even Jehan and the Watcher didn't know, nor did he give a damn. What mattered now was they had the girl, at long last. No one saw a thing, no one heard her muffled scream through the roar of the winter December wind. Her kidnappers knew her quite well, having studied her every movements.

The Watcher wasted no time in hoisting the unconscious blonde woman over his shoulder. He was momentarily surprised by how lightweight she was. She needs feeding up, he thought darkly, and a voice surprised him. "Stop," came his master's cold, calculating voice, devoid of emotion. The Watcher was not surprised when the man himself appeared in front of his hired hand. He, never one to disobey his master, did as he was told.

"What is this?" asked Jehan Frollo, his brow furrowed. "I see you've managed to capture yourself yet another pretty little plaything," he complimented, lifting the young woman's chin, cupping it to study her features. He clucked his tongue in mock disapproval. "I know this one. Her. Good work."

"The girl, as you requested," growled the Watcher, baring his canines.

"The one who's fallen in love with the demon of Paris, just like you are, boy," mocked Jehan Frollo, his dark brown eyes narrowing until they were mere slits. Clearly, it did not escape his attention how the Watcher bristled at the insult, his chest puffing out just slightly, but the Watcher knew better than to retort. "It is people like this one who are damaging the lineage of our ancestors and forefathers. We must…cut away the parts of the family tree that threaten to impede the rest, must we not?"

To that, the Watcher could only nod. "This one's new to Paris. No one can figure out where she came from," he offered, hoping to placate Jehan Frollo.

The Watcher hated these so-called last minute 'meetings,' when, Jehan was free to appear at will, whenever he pleased, never mind that the Watcher kept his own schedule. Jehan did as he liked and anybody who questioned the lord's authority did not get another chance. He knew better than to demand the young lord only turn up when the Watcher deemed it convenient. No way.

To that, Lord Jehan Frollo frowned, suddenly looking thoughtful. "Do with the girl what you will," he said, his voice coming out as almost a drawl. Dare he think it, but he sounded…almost bored. "Kill her, feast on her flesh, keep her locked up for a plaything, I don't care," he said, hearing his voice rise an octave as he paced the cobblestoned street. "But should you fail me again, you almost got caught luring her into your midst." He frowned as he stared at the blonde-haired woman in the Watcher's arms. "This woman is a member of Notre Dame Cathedral. She is quite well recognized, and for that, you have done well, but I warn you: If you are captured or killed by the king's men, it would jeopardize everything we have worked for up to this point. You allow yourself to be spotted again," he snarled, "and I can personally guarantee you a fate worse than death itself. You'll be in so much pain, you'll practically be on your knees, begging me to end your suffering."

The Watcher swallowed nervously, hoping his eyes didn't betray his fear. The assassin let out a heavy sigh as Jehan, seeing no further point he needed to make, turned on his heel and left without another word to the hooded man, and he pushed his face closer, his mind ordering his body to fall in line. Retreat would be a disaster, a show of weakness an inlet for Jehan to surge through. Nothing in his face betrayed his fear, it was a mask of defiance and surety, that's why he was the leader. The fear would need an out of course, he wasn't going the way of the others who had foolishly allowed themselves to be either caught and sent to the Bastille, or killed in battle trying to defend themselves, but there was a time and a place and this sure as hell wasn't it.

They had her, at last.

"Time to play, sweet thing," the Watcher murmured lowly, leaning down to whisper into the shell of the young woman's ear. She was still knocked out, but not for much longer. Once she awoke, the game could begin. The Watcher glanced down at the unconscious woman, who he had now shifted to rest in his arms. There was a tiny sliver of him that felt sorry for what he was, the way he behaved. He knew he shouldn't kill all these people, or especially the young women, but each one was always so deliciously sweet. Making their blood run until their flesh was ghostly and cold always filled him with such exquisite pleasure. He selected his victims just like others picked out their favorite foods from the marketplace, with careful precision.

"You're Jehan's new favorite, pet," he crooned, reaching down and licked her cheek. "Just you wait. You'll see."

The further men like Jehan Frollo traveled into the forest, into the dark, the more the light burned him. The longer he lived without it bringing color to his world, the more he grew to love blackness. Perhaps there was a time once when he didn't have to necessarily become the beast, but he was assuredly one now, ever since the bite that changed his life. From this dark pit, this terrible pit where not an ounce of light shined, he called for others like him to follow his lead into darkness. The Watcher knew that Master had no wish to be lonely. He wanted to be the master of this dark place, the one who possessed all the power and control of his clan. But how could he have either if there was no one to be his partner in pain and cruelty? He pondered this thought and a truly wicked idea came to his mind just then, as he glanced down at her.

She would be Jehan's wife once he had taken care of the accursed wretch, that demon, that monster of Notre Dame, and then once that miserable excuse of a creature was dead, Jehan would take her. He would make her his queen, and the reward for her following him was to learn the joy of inflicting pain, the love of power and the ability to remain indifferent as the others around them suffered for it. This woman in his arms was meant to save herself. He could see that.

Jehan could help her with that. He could bite her and put the knife in her hand and remove the conscience from her mind, that nagging, pulling feeling that dared to tell you when something was right or not.

Think of how strong she would be with no voice telling her not to kill, not to harm, and why should she listen? The Watcher had seen this one fight.

She was quite skilled, this much he knew, for he had seen her squabble with old man Marsan over the price of an apple the other day, and she'd won.

This woman—Renee—could be a queen, mighty, crushing her enemies underneath her foot. There was no right or wrong, only what she could and could not do. The woman was born to be a beast like him. She would just need to come closer to Jehan to see. To let him close the door behind them…

Renee stirred in the man's arms and her eyes bolted open as a shot of pain flared and burned, sending fiery pulses up her arm. Her face paled and drained of color completely as she felt her gaze drift down towards the arrow still embedded in her arm, her mouth open in a silent scream, and dug at the arrow, trying and failing to pull it out, tears streaming down her cheeks, the girl bit her lip to keep from screaming and causing a scene. Smart.

"Consider that a little warning shot, love," he called out, sounding highly amused, and, to add insult to injury, he tossed her a wrapped package. "Compliments from the master himself. Tomorrow's the big event, dear. He's made you a dress truly fit for a queen."

His piece said, he scaled the walls of the bakery before Renee could so much as let out a shout of pain. A deep wound was sliced in the flesh of her upper right arm. It's heavily oozing out blood and there's a bluish-purple bruise forming around it. Renee lightly pressed her index finger against the center of the cut and sucked in a sharp breath as the pain spiraled across her body. Colorful spots contour the sides of her eyes and Renee had bite her lip from the pain of it all.

"Motherfu…." She whispered, cursing under her breath as she gripped the head of the arrow, currently embedded in her arm. "Jesus, this hurts!" Her head throbbed. The pain felt like someone had taken a knife to her skull. She leaned her head back against a wall. Squeezing her eyes shut, Renee willed the pain to go away. The rest of the world became detached, all she could concentrate on was the pain rooted deep in her head. The last thing she heard was a woman screaming, but was it her?

Quasi's face was the last thing she saw before she finally allowed herself to become lost to a dreamless sleep, anything to escape the ebbs and flows of her pains. She could barely hear the street around chattering around her. All she felt, all she knew was the pain of that moment. Renee felt herself becoming drowsy as if it were an emergency, as if sleeping had become a dangerous thing. Her heart beat fast and there was a buzzing in her brain and together they made her panicked. Something she admittedly could not afford, given her situation. She sat up, wincing at the throbbing in the back of her skull, black spots dancing in front of her vision, and blearily tried to focus her gaze a few feet in front. "How…what?" She whispered, hardly daring to believe it.

While she was unconscious, someone must have brought her here, but where exactly was here? The prison cell was a hollow cube of concrete, one way in, no windows. In there you could have no idea how much time had passed or even if it was night or day. It was totally disorientating by design. Given enough time a person could forget their own name in there. The isolation was total, and the stimulation was zero. No sound, no light, no furniture or cloth of any kind. It was all an inmate could do to feel the cool walls, but even they were smooth.

Surrounded by four white walls, there was nothing else to do but stare at them. To look at the paint that had started to chip off as time passed or gouged by other prisoners - anything to pass time, slowly going mad, theorizing absurd meanings from the wall's blank stare. The air inside this place was different, and for a moment, Renee was unable to put her finger on why. Then it occurred to her.

The smell of sweat was gone, save for the sounds she made, there was no sound of other people except for her and the monster staring her in the face, currently. Nothing but the eerie song of silence. But that wasn't the worst of it.

The place was just walls, walls and a giant empty cell, a cage like one would keep a vicious dog locked up in.

Here, Renee could feel the icy grip of Death clutching onto her.

"Damn, damn, what do I do?" she whispered, horrified, and immediately cursing herself for not waiting. She should have waited for Quasi, but no, she had to just step out for some fresh air, and she wanted his Christmas gift to be a surprise, and now, she wouldn't get to give it to him, and now she was well and truly trapped with him. The moments passed as if she were hungover from too much ale, but not from drinking, but from the nightmare that was currently staring her in the face that demanded a solution, and she saw with no small measure of dismay there was no way out. A surprisingly gentle nude to her rib cage caused her to jolt backwards, fully awake to see Jehan Frollo's leering face at her.

"Hello, sweetheart," he crooned, and she knew by the tone of his voice that she was in serious trouble. "Glad to see you're awake."

"How long was I out?" Renee whispered, hating how hoarse and weak her voice sounded, and even more so that she was daring to showcase her fear in front of this beast that dared to call itself a man.

"A few hours. I've been waiting for you to wake up," he said, no trace of malice in his voice, but Renee knew that was how he lured members of his coven in. He grinned at his captive wolfishly, revealing bright pink gums and sharp, pointed white canines. Not unlike that of a wolf, and she, the prey. "Now that you're awake, life's so much more fun. I've been waiting for you to wake up so we can play a little game," he grinned. He poked her side, causing her to recoil against the wall of this cage in disgust. "I just had to wake you up because you weren't listening, sweet thing."

Jehan Frollo poked her side again. How would he know that if she hadn't said anything? She'd been asleep, for God's sake! Renee guessed her eyes being closed sort of had given her away. "Now I have to tell you everything again, love," he growled, crossing his legs and straddling the chair he was sitting in backwards, his head resting in his hands. He sat himself even closer towards her.

"Don't call me that!" Renee snarled, hoping her eyes didn't betray her. Jehan saw that her gaze continuously flitted towards the cell door. "You're a beast!"

Jehan snorted, unfazed by her outburst. "Says the woman who is courting a monster. Oh, yes," he added, smiling wickedly at the dawning look of horror in growing in the girl's eyes. "I know all your little…partnership with my boy, Quasi. Florika's boy. I told her to drown the wretch when it was born."

Quasi, she thought, a pang of guilt and fear piercing her heart.

"You really think that one can save you, girl?" Frollo taunted, reaching up a hand with disgustingly overly long fingernails and brushing a wisp of her blonde bangs out of her eyes. "I don't think so." He swept her bangs out of her eyes again and furrowed his brow in thought. Before Renee could so much as sit up straighter, he seized her by the scruff of her dress and shoved her up against the rough stone wall of whatever shithole of a prison cell he'd placed her in.

Renee's insides went cold. She knew what was about to happen to her, and she had none of her modern amenities to help out of this one.

No way to send a message to call for help, or even scream. Adrenaline flooded her system. It pumped and beat like it was trying to escape. She thought for sure her heart was going to explode, and her eyes were wide with fear. Her body either wanted to run fast for the safety of the outside world, wherever here was, or to any object she could find to pick the lock, break the door down and the hell out of here, but then there was the matter of what felt like a turned ankle and the wound in her shoulder. Instead, she remained where she was, stock still and frozen, unable to move due to the weight of Jehan's clawed hand clutching her shoulder, preventing her escaping. Let's face it, there was only one thing she could do: pray Jehan or his men didn't kill her before help arrived to get her.

Renee froze as he began to tug at her dress, and she felt an incredible heat engulf her body. "No," she hissed, pushing back against his chest. He swiveled his head back and moved to meet her eyes and let out a short, bark-like laugh.

"Don't need you fighting me on this, kid. That just complicates things." Noticing her blue eyes darkening, he let out a low warning growl from the back of his throat. "You're just a bit of rough from the streets, girl. A street rat, and all of Paris pities the rats, except for me. Paris would be better off without your kind. There is no Prince Charming coming to save you. You think 's going to come for you? He won't. Welcome to your life, witch," here the man spat the word as if it were poison on his tongue. "lonely regrets. It's what a girl like you is made for," he whisper-hissed through gritted teeth.

The thoughts were accelerating inside her head. Renee wanted them to slow so she can breathe but they wouldn't. Her breaths come in gasps and the young blonde felt like she was going to black out if the creep so much as took one more step in her general direction. Her heart was hammering inside her chest like it belonged to a rabbit running for its skin. The room spun and she felt the strength in her legs give out, falling to the floor, scooting back as far away from Frollo as she could possibly manage, trying to make everything slow to something her brain and body could cope with. Renee felt so sick. She wanted to call for help but the church… it's too far away to make a run for it, it's too far away.

Even if she did know, she wouldn't know who to call, who to send to come get her. She knew she didn't want him to see her like this. Furthermore, did he even know that she was gone? Probably not. Blackness crept and swirled into the front of her vision... creeping blackness... Renee let out a low whimper and curled up into a corner, her knees huddled against her chest, anything she could think of to defend herself from whatever was about to happen.

Someone, Quasi, Alice, Father Adam…wherever you are, please come soon, she thought desperately, biting her lip hard enough that it started bleeding.

She glanced up at Frollo, who was regarding his newest plaything with something akin to amusement in his eyes. "You know what," he growled, sounding thoughtful, and just that alone was enough to render Renee's blood in her veins to ice. Whenever Frollo started thinking and getting ideas, that was a very bad sign indeed. "I don't think I will take you. Yet," he added darkly for emphasis. "What's the fun in taking a queen if no one's around to watch? I think I'll go send a little message to your precious bell ringer, my own bastard son, to make him watch as I take you for myself," he snarled. "I can't think of a more fitting end to his wretched miserable life, my pet, can you? I think not…"

"NO!" she begged, not sure where her sudden outburst was coming from. "Not that," she pleaded desperately. "Please…"

"Oh, yes," he grinned happily, true delight sparking in his eyes now. "The man's made the grave mistake of trying to live among your kind," he spat, disgusted, crinkling his nose in disgust. "He will never be normal, no matter how much he wishes that he were. It seems only fitting such an unforgivable act be punished accordingly, wouldn't you say, dearie? And what better way to do that," here he closed off the gap of space between the two of them, cupping her chin in his clawed hand and tilting her head upward so she met his gaze, "than to take away the one thing that he loves the most?" Jehan's lips curled into a sneer as he watched the young woman's haunting blue eyes freeze over like the surface of a winter puddle, robbing them of their usual warmth.

Oh, she was in there, he knew it, but his words made her freeze, and watching this was like watching the young woman take a huge step back from life, and he liked it.

He wanted to reach in and tell her it wasn't hopeless, that she would see how much better life was with him and his clan, but Frollo knew that the blonde-haired woman would not believe him. The young lord always knew the little Barreau girl had pain buried deep inside, but now it was visible on her face, and for just a split second, he wished it would go away, and he wanted to be the one to take it from her. Jehan knew that was a selfish want, people have a right to their pain, even wenches like this one he hated so very much, but Renee Barreau was becoming something like a drug. They never asked for it, their pain, that is.

It just arrives like the gift you never wanted. Like the gift he had given Quasi all those years ago, and the bastard was incredibly grateful. Frollo was jolted out of his thoughts as the young woman let out a tiny yelp, clutching at her ribcage and staring at the blood staining her palms crimson. Searing fiery bursts pulsated around the wound, intensifying with each dragging step, jarring and brutal. With each step the pain amplified, the bloody muscle quivered, her consciousness ebbed. Black mists swirled at the edges of her mind drawing her into sweet oblivion. "Ah," he added, unable to stop his grin from forming as she looked at him in horror. "No need to worry, pet. That's just a little…incident. One of my boys a little earlier got a little rough in handling you, but he's been dealt with. Don't fret, lovely. When I bite you later, you'll feel it."

The pain from her broken ribs and scratches commanded Renee's attention. It did not sit quietly in the background like garish wallpaper, it cowed her brain into meek submission, demanding a solution she could not provide, given her current situation. She used to think that the intermittent pains were the worst because they were chaotic and random. But now, these were constant, and she knew this was far more debilitating. Without a break in the pain, she could not formulate a thought on how to devise a plan to get out.

Jehan let out a weary sigh. "We're just not getting through to you anymore, are we, pet?" He said, kicking her hard in the side with the heel of his pointed boot, the broken ribs there signing in agony and Renee could barely lift her head to meet the monster's gaze before slumping again, her energy drained by the fever that was slowly taking hold of her and the infection from the scratches settling into the wounds at her right side. "Guess I'll have to go call him now, won't I?" Turning towards a soldier who had accompanied him, he barked orders. "Chain this one. We need to plan something different with her."

Renee knew she would faint whenever her stomach would give out. It felt like her innards were being replaced by some strange black hole. Then nausea crept from her abdomen to her head, and the world went black, but she fought back the urge and resisted it. She had to stay awake.

Quasi, wherever you are, please come soon.

The cold look reflected in Jehan Frollo's face gave her shudders as the young lord risked one last glance over his shoulder at his newest captive, his latest prisoner. He seemed to have no sense of humanity. His hardened heart was made of stone, the way he had brutally kidnapped her, not to mention all the innocent lives he had claimed. Renee would never forget the evil glint in Jehan Frollo's beady black eyes. She looked into his eyes, but it was like nothing was there to behold. An endless depth of ink, sorrow, and pain. Renee could not see whites of his eyes nor the vessels that flowed through them. They were depths of Tartarus holding a thousand souls yet there were none to be seen. The murderer standing before her smelled of blood. Of danger.

And she had no way out of this mess unless help came for her.

"Quasi," she whispered, her knuckles white with the effort to steady herself as she clutched onto the bars of this cage's door.

Please come. Hurry, she begged, closing her eyes and resting her forehead against the bars, hoping that, somehow, he could hear her.

The dread crept over Renee like an icy chill, numbing her brain.

In this frozen state her mind offered her only one thought. She was going to die if help didn't come for her soon. If Frollo came back for her and help still hadn't arrived by then, she knew what she had to do in order to escape this hell.

"God forgive me," she whispered. But no one listened to her.

She was on her own.


"…That smug bastard, this is all my fault! I never should have let her go!" he bellowed, throwing an empty wine bottle across the room, a cry of outrage upon his lips. He didn't care, he felt nothing as he watched the bottle shatter into several fragments and scatter across the room. In his angered haze, he couldn't tell if anyone heard. He didn't care anymore. Let them hear me, he thought angrily. Quasi felt the dread creep over his spine like a spider leaving a careful trail of silk.

He never should have let her out of his sight. The message delivered to him just now by a random courier rang in his ears, along with one of the simple gold rings she wore on her right hand was enough of a message. She was Frollo's now, and unless he came to the Palace of Justice tomorrow evening, her body would be found in pieces along the River Seine, and for every hour that passed that he was not there, she would lose an appendage. The visions of her broken, tortured body refused to leave his mind.

"That might be the first time I've ever seen you lose control over a woman, son. Don't worry about Renee, kid. We'll get her back, Quasi," came Alice's voice from the doorway. Quasi didn't even have to glance up to know it was Alice. She was standing in the doorway, her arms folded across her chest. Her voice was unusually quiet and somber, not like her at all.

"How do you know?" He could hear his voice cracking and breaking as he wavered on the last word. He buried his face in his hands and tried not to look around at the bell tower loft, tattered and ruined beyond anything he could have ever done as a monster. No, the broken and scattered remains of his possessions were all his doing. Jehan Frollo's taunts had fueled within him an unquenchable fire that threatened to burn down anything Quasi's eyes came into contact with.

Quasi blearily lifted his head to stare into the shards of broken mirror at his feet. He barely recognized the man staring back at him. Who was he and why did he stay, and were these broken possessions scattered at his feet any different than himself? Battered. Such a fragile word for something so complex. The others just didn't understand. They never would. His fist was still bleeding from where he'd punched it. Such an outburst wasn't like him at all. He'd never felt so…so…enraged. He wanted to rip whoever had taken Renee to shreds, limb from limb, to relish the brute's screams for what he did to Renee. By God he'd…No, his voice answered immediately. Stay calm. Think rationally. What would Renee want you to do? She'd say stop this.

"I just do," Alice answered, taking a few steps into the doorway, clapping her arm around Quasi's shoulder. "The girl has spunk, and she is stronger than we give her credit for. Renee is tough. She'll be just fine."

Quasi gave off a fake little smile that didn't reach his eyes. It didn't mask the worry in his voice or on his face, and Alice knew it. Alice took a hesitant step forward, something clearly troubling her. "What?" he snapped, visibly wincing at the harsh, almost dog-like bark to his unusually kind tone. "Alice, what is it? What's wrong?" Quasi shivered as a cold chill traveled down his spine and he shrank into his thick green tunic as much as he could.

"I know that look," Alice said calmly. "My husband used to get it whenever he looked at me when I was your age, before the plagues took him, and I see it in our captain when he looks at Esmeralda. You really love this girl, don't you? Don't even think of lying to me, kid. You're a crap liar…"

Quasi mutely nodded, afraid if he started talking about it, he would be emotionally compromised, and that was not something he was willing to risk in the moment. They needed to think rationally about this, come up with a plan to get Renee out of Frollo's clutches. "I do," he confessed at last, a pained look in his eyes as he lifted his chin slightly, daring to meet his friend's gaze at last. "More than anything. She reminds of a time in my life when I was truly happy."

His depression was his silent, unheard, and unseen assassin. His pain had become too much to cope with and so misunderstood. Quasi could not escape it, no matter how hard he tried, because it followed him around like a black shadow that was only on the inside, eating him alive. He stood on the brink of something he couldn't describe. The weight of everything seemed to press down on his shoulders, and he struggled to take even a single step forward. It was too much.

All of it. And somehow, he kept moving. But every step cost him.

The darkness grew darker, the pain grew sharper, all of it seemed to only grow in strength and Quasi began to wonder if things could ever get better. But he never said a word. Sometimes he wondered if that smile, the horribly fake smile, was ever seen through. If someone ever noticed that sad, broken look in his eyes that he saw in the mirror. If they saw beauty where he saw ugliness. And then he laughed, a bitter, sarcastic laugh at himself. Nobody cared.

No one noticed. He fought for years. And then she had come into his life, and had broken down his barriers, the walls he worked so hard to keep up.

Another step forward as Alice rummaged in her habit pocket. "I might have found something in your bell tower that I shouldn't have," she confessed, throwing a furtive, guilty look Quasi's way and pulled out the pair of yellow gold wedding rings that had used to belong to his parents, or so Laverne had said.

If anyone knew the truth, it was Laverne. She had, after all, been there the night his parents had died. Quasi felt the heat creep onto his cheeks as he shot a look of daggers Alice's way. "What were you doing in my—our tower?" he corrected, mentally reminding himself that Renee occupied it more than he did these days.

Alice smirked, the shadow of her mischievous, seventeen-year-old self-returning to her in a moment of rare nostalgia. "If you must know, I was looking for a spare cloak. It's bloody freezing in this place, and I know you keep a ton on hand," she joked, but then her smile faltered as her gaze drifted downwards to the rings in her palm, admiring their simple, elegant and understated beauty.

"And that's private. But if you must know, it's about to get a lot more complicated," he sighed, snatching the rings out of Alice's hand, trying his hardest to ignore the smug smirk on the beautiful nun's face. "I was…well, sort of…you know, going to ask her later this month, once things calmed down a bit. It's Christmas, and well… he added, a faraway look in his eyes. "It used to belong to my mother," he said softly, curling his finger over the rings. "She's…" But his voice broke and he couldn't finish that thought. "It's not safe for her anymore," he growled, turning to Alice, and for a moment, Sister Alice Beaumont was surprised to see the shadow of a demon cross his face. "All I've done to Renee has put her in danger, just by knowing her, she's now a target. She's branded, but I—I can't seem to stay away from her!" he shouted, feeling his voice rise an octave as he seized tufts of his fiery red hair. He looked quite livid. "Alice, I don't think I can do this to her anymore. I've done nothing but endanger her ever since she and I met, and if something happens to her because she was cursed with the misfortune to know me, then she would be better off, a hundred times so, without me, without a husband of whom she must always be ashamed, one who is nothing but a monster and an outcast. She would worry I wouldn't come back, and I certainly cannot go out into the world to provide for her or any children that we might be cursed to have. Frollo was right. I am a monster. My kind aren't even meant to breed, let alone marry," he bellowed. "If I had any kind of sense, I'd walk away from this before it's too late!"

Alice looked as though Quasi had slapped her, a look of outrage and disbelief flickering across her pretty features. Her long gray hair fell in front of her face like a curtain, shrouding half her features in shadow, rendering her expression in the moment mostly unreadable. Quasi barely had a chance to react as the one woman in his life who was something akin to a mother figure to him strode across the room and backhanded him so hard across the cheek that Quasi staggered backward, clutching at his eye. A red welt was already forming, and one of Alice's rings she wore on her finger left quite the marking.

"How dare you speak about yourself like that?" roared Alice, her face reddening in rage. "Are you even listening to yourself, Quasi? You're talking about yourself as though you're some kind of—of animal. A beast. Renee was right, my God, I didn't want to believe it, but I can see now that she was right," she snarled, her lips curling upward into a twisted sort of grimace. "You have a chance to make yourself, not to mention Renee, perfectly happy for one in your damn life, and you're talking about abandoning her right now, when she might not even be alive anymore? What the hell is wrong with you? Seriously?" Alice took a faltering step backward, as though truly seeing the young man she had known since infancy for the first time in a completely new light. "You don't mean this; I know you don't! I'd have never believed this of you. What would Esmeralda say if she were here? She would be disgusted by what you're thinking of doing right now. I'd have never believed it. You, the one who was the bravest out of all of us, whether you knew it at the time or not, you're a coward."

Quasi glowered at Alice, feeling his hand curl into a protective fist. He didn't want to use his brute strength he'd always tried so hard to bury against Alice, but by God, he would if he absolutely had to. "Get out of my way, Alice."

"No." Alice's voice, although quite calm, shook with rage. "No way." She moved to stand in the doorway, effectively blocking it. "Where the hell do you think you're going, Quasi? You are not leaving this room yet. You and I aren't leaving this room until you see sense. Frollo won't hurt Renee. He made that perfectly clear, he wants you there to witness, the sick brute that he is," Alice added, spitting out the last surviving Frollo family member's name as though it were poison on her tongue, venom in her words. She pulled up an empty chair and wordlessly dragged it across the bell tower loft floor of the mezzanine, flinching only once or twice as it made noise, the loud scraping sounds against the hardwood floor like nails on a chalk board. "You and me, Quasi, it's time for us to have a sit down. What the hell's going with you?" Alice growled angrily. "We can all see how much you love Renee. Why are you acting like this? Huh?"

Quasi sighed, running a hand through his hair in anguish. A muscle in his jaw twitched as he turned his head sharply away, so he wouldn't have to look into Alice's inquisitive, curious eyes. "It's…"

"Complicated, I know. You've made that perfectly clear," grumbled Alice, twisting the chair backwards and straddling it, tossing a lock of gray hair out of her eyes. A most unladylike position, but then again, Alice did things her own way. "Every relationship takes work. Look at Esmeralda and Phoebus. Look at any other couple in this world. You really think you're doomed to a life of solitude, just because of your deformities?" she snarled, the briefest flickers of anger coursing through her eyes. "No offense, Quasi, but that's crap. You're perfectly capable of having a normal life. I know you love this girl. You wouldn't have gotten that ring if you didn't," he added, his gaze drifting downward and noting how Quasi's hand instinctively drifted towards his palms, making sure their rings were still there. Alice snorted, repressing the urge to roll her eyes. "Marry her, my son. You never needed anyone's permission. Except for maybe her father's, though if what she says is true, the girl has no parents to ask, so you're off the hook in that regard," Alice added mockingly, letting out a cynical chuckle at the dawning look of fear at the idea of having to ask her father's permission. But she knew that Quasi would do it, given the opportunity.

He was old-fashioned in that regard. "Don't wait." A beat. A pause.

Quickly jolting himself back to reality, a quick glance toward Alice told Quasi that laughing was the last thing on Alice's mind, for which Quasi was incredibly grateful. He let out a huff of frustration, a release, and snatched the rings back, pocketing it for safe keeping. "She'll say yes. I hope so anyways."

Alice's brows shot so high up onto her forehead that they almost disappeared into her hairline. "Does this mean what I think it does, then?" she added, the corners of her mouth twitching as she fought back a smile. "You're going to quit stalling and stay with her, then? Go the whole nine yards, ask her, marry her, then?"

Quasi mutely nodded. "Yes," he replied quietly, his voice barely above a whisper. "Thanks for making me see it, Alice," he said.

Alice grinned, almost a wolfish smile that slightly unnerved Quasi, if he was being honest with himself. "Anytime, my dear." The nun clapped Quasi on the back and wrenched him out of his chair, irritably waving her hand. "You coming?" she added, her brow furrowing at the look on Quasi's face. He was quite pale, almost to the verge of passing out, and the look of fear in his eyes was unmistakable. "Quasi!" she barked.

Startled, Quasi looked toward Alice and gave a curt nod. "In a second." The bell ringer was surprised at the harsh bite to his tone.

Alice Beaumont nodded. "Be sharp about it. We've got your leading lady to save, and if there's one thing I never miss, it's a call from a damsel in distress," she added, a note of smug pride in her voice. "Let's go save your future fiancé."

Quasi waited until Alice had fled the room, stifling a smile as he began to bark orders towards the other caretakers of the cathedral, hollering for Father Adam, shouting something about a rescue. He glanced at his reflection in the mirror, feeling his left hand drift yet again to his pocket, where the rings was kept safe for now. Instinctively, he pulled it out again for what had to be the millionth time this morning and studied the elegant yellow gold glittering in his palm.

"I can't wait to give this to you, Renee," he whispered lowly. "You'll see. I'm—I'm going to save you, love," he swore, running a hand through his red hair in anguish. "I promise." He faltered in his resolve for a moment, his confidence that had until just now previously soared to unheard of levels, thanks to Alice's little pep talk, faltered and vanished as he realized the hardest part lay ahead of him still. No, the worst was still yet to come. Asking Renee to marry him.

This thought was still on his mind as he grabbed a cloak and set off with Alice. The small spark of hope was there, that Renee was going to be safe, and by the end of the night, she'd be back with her people, with him in his bell tower, where she belonged, and Frollo a distant, unpleasant memory.

Hopefully, in a few days, he would learn of her true feelings for him. His heart would either be broken if she said no, or his entire year made. The spark of hope ignited a tiny flame in his chest, just a flicker against the wind, but it was enough to keep him going.

"I'm going to save you, Renee," he swore under his breath.

I promise.