The Hunchback Of Notre Dame Novels & Stories

Her voice echoed through the hallway. The door behind her creaked to a close and she instinctively turned her head back to see if anyone was behind her. Silly me! she thought as she placed a hand to her chest. Her heart was beating wildly from all her imagination. “Hello.” “Ahh!” she cried out and immediately turned back towards the hallway. An old man in a cotton brown cardigan and thick-rimmed glasses stood directly in front of her. He reminded her of the Hunchback of Notre Dame.

FLEUR I sat on the couch in front of the TV, the news showing the charred body that hung from Notre-Dame. Sunrise had hit the city and I’d been up nearly all night, but I felt no fatigue, not when the adrenaline was still pumping away. Until Bastien walked in that door, I would be on alert.

After all, it was hardly her business to meddle in his affairs. She was about to make her way into the van when a pair of cold eyes caught her attention. Her teeth chattered when she gritted them. There, from the other side of the road, shadowed by the gigantic tree, stood a hunchback figure. No matter how small she narrowed her eyes, she couldn’t quite see past his features; however, when he looked up, it was his orbs that made her move a step back. It was a merciless tint of gold, a red and blue splashed about in the irises that were dilating as though it had found its prey. “Madame? Anything wrong?”

They neither moved their mouths nor showed a flicker of expressions as they signed him to walk ahead while the two of them protected him from the front and the back. The rain was heavy and it intensified as the hunchback and the two men padded ahead in a slow pace towards a huge castle. It had seven strong, square towers connected by high firm walls made of stones that occurred inky snowy white. There were grand windows scattered here and there around the walls that seemed flickering under the rain.

“Johnny get your wrinkly self over here, your stupid bell is not working again!” Icahbod frowed. “Is a woman bearing the name Johnny in this century?” “No, why would you ask that?” “You said we were coming to meet a woman.” “Oh yea, he is the one who will bring her to us, she is his daughter but you have to see the father first.” “Oh, ok.” Minutes later, Ichabod could hear a swift movement behind the shelves and out came a short man in a black tail coat and a large hat which made him look like all those wizards you see in movies like Harry Potter.

*** At Julius Mansion Wendy and Hiton arrived outside the mansion at exactly two o’clock in the afternoon. Hilton was about to press the doorbell when a white vehicle halted at the front of the gate, with the sound of the horn filling the air. While the gate flung open, the driver got out of the car and looked at the duo. The person was Betty. After staring at them without uttering a word, she returned to the car and drove in with Wendy and Hilton walking behind.

_Hide_. But we all knew. If this went bad, there was no _running_. Old Town was empty. Should have been tourists. Bars. Life. _Nothing_. Silent. Too silent. “Wind’s not moving,” Nero whispered. Snow fell around him but didn’t hit the ground. _Hung_ there. “They’re close.” Rylan was awake. In my arms. Staring at the church at the end of the street. _Notre-Dame_. Doors open. Candlelight inside.

Her stomach dropped. Her hands were covered in it. Dark red staining her palms and wrists. Shaking violently now, Elena stumbled backward and crashed into something hard behind her. Stone. She turned. A crumbling structure stood hidden among the trees. A chapel. Its roof had partially collapsed long ago, vines strangling the gray stone walls. Moonlight poured through broken stained glass windows, painting the ground in fractured colors. And at the center of the clearing— dead animals. Elena stopped breathing. Three deer lay arranged in a perfect circle.

"Honey, our ship doesn't leave for another three days. "However, we still have one last ace up our sleeve, the most valuable insurance policy. "Honey, you've got one more act to play – a staged suicide by jumping off a building." When I remained silent, they both took me by the arms and led me to the hospital's rooftop. Chester would not stop yammering about how safe it was to leap from the 60-meter-high building. He boasted about the safety net he rigged up below, assuring me that a blindfolded count to twelve would see me land without a scratch.

Then that shell would break to let out a creature that was hideous and scary and weird. In the process of trying to drive him away, they somehow ended up gravitating towards each other. Finding comfort in the unexpected company, deep secrets tumbling out in the middle of the night. The guy who got stranded for sightseeing was suddenly showing her perspectives she had never seen before. The girl who barely talks was suddenly telling him the things he needed to hear all his life. But at the end of the day, you should never ever trust a stranger. Soon the creature would enclose itself completely for the second time, never to be seen like that again. It was a period of transformation.