Post by Wildfeather on Mar 4, 2014 11:54:03 GMT -5
(Dear reader! Thank you for reading our thread. We wish to warn you that some of the posts will have mature content and will be rated with M for Mature. These posts should not be read by minors. And now - let the story begin!)
Dark clouds filled the sky over Paris, and a tension in the air gave away that a thunderstorm was on its way. The normally crowded streets were almost empty today. The farmers selling their crops in the marketplace were practically alone. People feared the thunderstorm ahead, and stayed inside in their homes if they had any home at all.
The marketplace was a large open space close to the church of Notre Dame. On this side of the church, the wealthier part of the population lived. Further away from the church the buildings became more ugly and run down. Clearly this was where the poor were kept. A stranger walking through this area could clearly notice a border between the wealthy area and the slum area where people ended up when their luck ran out.
In the slum area stood a tall, gloomy building made from cold stone. It was filthy on the outside, with barred windows. It was run down, and the hard-stamped soil on the outside showed footprints from small feet. This was the worst orphanage in Paris, the one most feared among children who had recently become orphaned. Rumors said that if you were sent to this place, you would never see the daylight again. People passing by had heard angry shouts and desperate screams from the inside, but so far nobody had checked what was going on, or where the cries came from.
A beam of sun crept over the stone walls surrounding the building, landing on a barred window half hidden in the ground. The window had no glass, so in the winter the snow would fall into the room, and in the rainy seasons the walls inside were wet and slippery. The room inside was very small. Wooden stairs led up to a door hidden in darkness on the other side of the room. Rats, spiders and other creatures of the dark scampered about in the room. Heavy chains of iron were firmly attached to one of the walls, and linked to these chains was a small figure. In the darkness it was impossible to find out if it was a male or a female shape, less alone how old said shape was.
Only a quiet sobbing could be heard - the helpless whimper of a tortured soul who realized all hope was gone. This was the only sign that the shape in the darkness was still alive... for as long as it lasted.
Dark clouds filled the sky over Paris, and a tension in the air gave away that a thunderstorm was on its way. The normally crowded streets were almost empty today. The farmers selling their crops in the marketplace were practically alone. People feared the thunderstorm ahead, and stayed inside in their homes if they had any home at all.
The marketplace was a large open space close to the church of Notre Dame. On this side of the church, the wealthier part of the population lived. Further away from the church the buildings became more ugly and run down. Clearly this was where the poor were kept. A stranger walking through this area could clearly notice a border between the wealthy area and the slum area where people ended up when their luck ran out.
In the slum area stood a tall, gloomy building made from cold stone. It was filthy on the outside, with barred windows. It was run down, and the hard-stamped soil on the outside showed footprints from small feet. This was the worst orphanage in Paris, the one most feared among children who had recently become orphaned. Rumors said that if you were sent to this place, you would never see the daylight again. People passing by had heard angry shouts and desperate screams from the inside, but so far nobody had checked what was going on, or where the cries came from.
A beam of sun crept over the stone walls surrounding the building, landing on a barred window half hidden in the ground. The window had no glass, so in the winter the snow would fall into the room, and in the rainy seasons the walls inside were wet and slippery. The room inside was very small. Wooden stairs led up to a door hidden in darkness on the other side of the room. Rats, spiders and other creatures of the dark scampered about in the room. Heavy chains of iron were firmly attached to one of the walls, and linked to these chains was a small figure. In the darkness it was impossible to find out if it was a male or a female shape, less alone how old said shape was.
Only a quiet sobbing could be heard - the helpless whimper of a tortured soul who realized all hope was gone. This was the only sign that the shape in the darkness was still alive... for as long as it lasted.