@unnamed1 The Cathedral at night took on the hellish form of jagged stone monsters. If one was good at pretending, the bell ringer looked like just another saint or gargoyle carved into this saintly castle of stone. When he sat still, perched upon one of those high ledges, he might as well have been.
With one good eye, the deformed creature could see the streets of Paris rather clearly. But merely to set his gaze upon it was not enough. He had to walk on these stones himself and breathe the air which swirled above it. And so he made many a trip into these dark alleys and roads. A pale moon shined brightly upon the rainy, cobblestone streets of Paris.
As of late, the bell ringer had been appointed a new and unusual task by his master. He had been instructed to seek out beautiful, lonely women walking alone at night and capture them. Not for his pleasure of course, but for his master’s. In truth, a deep and powerful part of Quasimodo’s mind fought against this. He instinctively knew it to be wrong, immoral, unlawful and unethical. And yet, the wretch obeyed, if only out of obedience and nothing more. If his master but asked him to, he would gladly throw himself from the heights of Notre Dame itself. He was barely a man with his own mind. His master’s desires had manifested into his own, leaving no part of his will for himself.
When the misshapen servant caught a glance of Asoka, beautiful and alone; like a predatory animal….he stalked her from the shadows. It was a shame, really. He knew what would become of her once his master had done what he wished with her. But there was naught he could do to stop it.