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Literature Text
Notre Dame Cathedral, Paris, 1450 AD
Midnight Mass. Francois Rousseau stifled a yawn and wished he'd stayed at home; if he had, he would be tucked into bed and blissfully asleep by now, instead of here, listening to the priest's droning sermon. His eyes felt so heavy, he briefly wondered if anyone would notice if he took a quick nap, as long as he clasped his hands and bowed his head as though in prayer…
"Let us pray…" the priest's voice washed over him like the buzzing of a bumblebee, and all around Francois, the rest of the congregation began bleating the familiar words like mindless sheep.
Our Father, who art in heaven…
Francois mumbled the words automatically along with the others, barely paying attention and struggling not to let an impatient sigh escape him. Why did it have to take so long? Surely the good Lord wouldn't begrudge a tired man wanting to get some well-earned rest after a hard day's work?
…and forgive us our trespasses…
As the collective voice of the parishioners bled together into a meaningless hum of sound, Francois found his mind wandering, and suddenly the voice of his elderly mother rose up in his mind.
"Be a good boy, Francois, say your prayers, love your God, and 'e will protect you from eveel."
Francois inwardly snorted, since becoming a young man he had found himself believing less and less in the devils that his mother so feared, thinking of them as stories used to scare children into good behaviour. Of course, he fully believed that there had been demons – had not Christ himself exorcised the Legion into a herd of swine? But this was an age of enlightenment in France, and just as the miracles performed in the Holy Bible had faded into the shadows of history, so had the demons which walked abroad.
As his mind wandered, so did Francois eyes, and his gaze travelled lazily across the sea of bowed heads; the alter and the pulpit; the ornate crucifix, magnificent organ, and the stained glass windows- a small movement in the corner of his eye made him look up into the rafters, to one side of the alter, and he barely restrained a gasp.
Something huge and dark was crouched there, above the congregation, and as Francois watched, it seemed to rise, unfurling a pair of huge bat-like wings, its burning eyes fixed upon him. Frozen in silent terror, Francois could only watch as the creature stood there for a moment before slipping away, disappearing into the shadows of the balcony.
Sacrebleu! Francois thought in horror, still reeling, Muzzer was right! The young man quickly bowed his head and shut his eyes, reciting the last few lines of the Lord's Prayer with feverish intensity, promising never to be bored during Mass again.
Deliver us from evil…
Meanwhile, two young female Gargoyles made their way up the upper parts of the cathedral; the smaller black wingless one with a draconic snout glaring disapprovingly at the larger red-purple one with saurian features who was trying desperately not to laugh.
"You are so mean, Burgundy," Albia chastised, "That poor man looked scared to death." She scowled harder when Burgundy sniggered in response.
"Aye, like 'e was going to wet 'imself," she said, "But eet definitely woke 'im up, no?"
Albia sighed through her muzzle and shook her head.
Midnight Mass. Francois Rousseau stifled a yawn and wished he'd stayed at home; if he had, he would be tucked into bed and blissfully asleep by now, instead of here, listening to the priest's droning sermon. His eyes felt so heavy, he briefly wondered if anyone would notice if he took a quick nap, as long as he clasped his hands and bowed his head as though in prayer…
"Let us pray…" the priest's voice washed over him like the buzzing of a bumblebee, and all around Francois, the rest of the congregation began bleating the familiar words like mindless sheep.
Our Father, who art in heaven…
Francois mumbled the words automatically along with the others, barely paying attention and struggling not to let an impatient sigh escape him. Why did it have to take so long? Surely the good Lord wouldn't begrudge a tired man wanting to get some well-earned rest after a hard day's work?
…and forgive us our trespasses…
As the collective voice of the parishioners bled together into a meaningless hum of sound, Francois found his mind wandering, and suddenly the voice of his elderly mother rose up in his mind.
"Be a good boy, Francois, say your prayers, love your God, and 'e will protect you from eveel."
Francois inwardly snorted, since becoming a young man he had found himself believing less and less in the devils that his mother so feared, thinking of them as stories used to scare children into good behaviour. Of course, he fully believed that there had been demons – had not Christ himself exorcised the Legion into a herd of swine? But this was an age of enlightenment in France, and just as the miracles performed in the Holy Bible had faded into the shadows of history, so had the demons which walked abroad.
As his mind wandered, so did Francois eyes, and his gaze travelled lazily across the sea of bowed heads; the alter and the pulpit; the ornate crucifix, magnificent organ, and the stained glass windows- a small movement in the corner of his eye made him look up into the rafters, to one side of the alter, and he barely restrained a gasp.
Something huge and dark was crouched there, above the congregation, and as Francois watched, it seemed to rise, unfurling a pair of huge bat-like wings, its burning eyes fixed upon him. Frozen in silent terror, Francois could only watch as the creature stood there for a moment before slipping away, disappearing into the shadows of the balcony.
Sacrebleu! Francois thought in horror, still reeling, Muzzer was right! The young man quickly bowed his head and shut his eyes, reciting the last few lines of the Lord's Prayer with feverish intensity, promising never to be bored during Mass again.
Deliver us from evil…
Meanwhile, two young female Gargoyles made their way up the upper parts of the cathedral; the smaller black wingless one with a draconic snout glaring disapprovingly at the larger red-purple one with saurian features who was trying desperately not to laugh.
"You are so mean, Burgundy," Albia chastised, "That poor man looked scared to death." She scowled harder when Burgundy sniggered in response.
"Aye, like 'e was going to wet 'imself," she said, "But eet definitely woke 'im up, no?"
Albia sighed through her muzzle and shook her head.
Suggested Collections
Date: July 1st
Prompt: The only adult who can still see childhood monsters
Challenge: Urban Fantasy and Comedy
Wordcount: 563
My first flash fic of 2012!
I’ve decided to limit myself by keeping to Gargoyles-themed pieces, so we’ll see how I do with that …and am I the only one who found this at all funny? Anyway, moral of the story, kids: no matter your own belief system, respect the entities of others, because you know they’re all in cahoots. XD
Also, check out Lobo writing French accents!
PS. I’m not actually Catholic, so please forgive mistakes.
Prompt: The only adult who can still see childhood monsters
Challenge: Urban Fantasy and Comedy
Wordcount: 563
My first flash fic of 2012!
I’ve decided to limit myself by keeping to Gargoyles-themed pieces, so we’ll see how I do with that …and am I the only one who found this at all funny? Anyway, moral of the story, kids: no matter your own belief system, respect the entities of others, because you know they’re all in cahoots. XDAlso, check out Lobo writing French accents!
PS. I’m not actually Catholic, so please forgive mistakes.
© 2012 - 2024 LoboDiabloLoneWolf
Comments16
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Lmao, love it! Worry not, you are NOT the only one that finds this amusing. If I was a gargoyle, I'd likely do the exact same sort of stuff. My question is, didn't the show already have a clan that lived in Notre Dame? Or am I just thinking about you saying that there should be?