The Hunchback Of Notre Dame นิยาย & เรื่องราว

I bite Alex’s shoulder, my body seizing in the rain, my orgasm syncing with the destruction of Evelyn’s power. Alex groans, emptying himself inside me as the drone buzzes overhead, blind and useless in the dark. Paris. The smell is the first thing. Dust. Old stone. And bone. We are deep in the Catacombs. The air is stale, thick with the weight of six million skeletons stacked neatly in the dark. "It's sacrilegious," I whisper, shining my flashlight on a wall of femurs. "It's secure," Alex counters. "The limestone blocks all signals. Perfect place for a backup drive."

He said, and we resumed watching the movie. ~~~~~~oOoOo~~~~~ Once the movie finished, Adrien got up and put another movie. This one was "The hunchback of Notre Dame," one of my other favorite movies. Minutes passed, and one of my favorite parts came on. It's when the priest is singing 'hellfire'. I took a handful of popcorn and ate it. "This is hilarious." I said while eating the popcorn. "All of this singing, just because he got a boner from the girl," I said and then laughed. And so did Adrien.

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.

I got on the bus, I actually didn't know anywhere in Paris and honestly I just wanted to go with the wind and the wind led me to a church. Letting out a sigh I stood in front of the church, I googled it "Notre Dame Cathedral." I whispered in awe. My family wasn't big on churches but I heard it was a nice place, we really weren't religious in Banewood. It had an eerie look, it was tall with gargoyles..."Cool." I muttered to myself as I stepped into the cathedral. It felt like a holy ground and I was intruding, although I wasn't in my gothic clothes today. I snuck out unprepared in my nightdress, a white frilly gown I hated but packed in a rush to Paris.

A trickle of trepidation itched at my armpit as I waited on the man to make a move, my eyes catching the gleam of an upside-down pendant that was glinting on a council member’s hairy chest, half hidden by the dark folds of his cloth. Was that a cross? An upside-down cross? I felt the line of my eyebrows twist together, wondering how peculiar it was before the Lycan’s voice broke through my musings. “Fucking skinheads, we're going to have to go around.” Hector hissed, tugging on my wrist again and hunching down until he was almost shorter than me as we tiptoed to the dark line of trees that led around the back of the Castle front. “I would say stay low Nola, but you're already low enough as i

Then I ducked in after her, and the door shut behind us with a firm click. The ride through the city was surprisingly peaceful. I'd half-expected some over-the-top security detail or even hidden tension, but Mr. Duvall was calm and professional, pointing out landmarks and statues as we passed. The windows were down halfway, just enough to let in the scent of fresh baguettes and sweet pastries wafting from bakeries we cruised by. "That's the Cathédrale Saint-Louis," Mr. Duvall explained. "Built in the eighteenth century. Still rings its bells every hour."

Paris, France. The Catacombs (Restricted Sector). Midnight. They didn't go to a hotel. They went straight underground. Paris, the City of Light, sits on top of a dark kingdom. Six million skeletons stacked in endless tunnels. The Empire of the Dead. Jack broke the padlock on a rusted service gate in the 14th Arrondissement. "I hate tunnels," Jack grunted, checking his flashlight. "Give me a forest any day. Trees don't watch you."

He couldn’t hurt me. “Why don’t you drink from it and die.” I heard his grunt. “I can still kill you without drinking your blood.” I chuckled. “You can’t,” I smirked. I stood up. He moved back away from me. Then I noticed I was taller than he was. He was a hunchback. And had no hair on his head. He stepped back. “So, huh, I was so scared of nothing. You’re annoying.” He then went down, he bent them in submission. Was he giving up already?

I didn’t move; I didn’t have to. “Change back.” I told him; my hand constricting around his throat; he choked. Henrique changed back into his human form; he gasped for air; the blood trickled from his nose. I stood him up by his throat; he hung there; his feet dangling off the ground. “You made a big mistake coming for what’s mine.” I told him. “I… I’m not giving you anything.” He struggled for air; his eyes popped. I nodded slowly; I took him over to his bike; I tossed him onto his bike; I raised my hand; my claws sparkled in the moonlight; I slowly dragged my claws across the metal gas tank of his bike.

I explained. “And who are you?” “I am the hired hand of the Order. That is all you need to know.” I stated as I calmly finished my drink. “And what order would that be?” He asked, annoyed, “Thanks to you I lost my supper.” He sighed, staring off into the crowd. "You should know we, after all, have taken out so many of your kin," as he stared at me blankly, I added, " it’s the ancient order of Valhalla Bridge.”