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Chapter Text

He travelled from roof to roof, looking down at the bustling street. The yellow street lamps illuminated the street. The heavy rain from before had left small puddles of water. The tree's leaves were lit up in hues of orange and yellow. The chairs below had pools of water on the seat. The stones paving the road glistened in the lamp light. A pair of men stood in front of the tree. One was playing a bass guitar and the other was singing some old carol. A small metal tin half filled with notes and coins lay on the ground in front of them. Huddled in large, cozy coats, people walked by, some stopping by to listen to the two men.

Wreaths hung on shop doors. The sweet aromas of Christmas sweets wafted through the damp air. Large fir trees decorated from top to bottom stood inside the shops. The workers inside wore Santa hats, nothing like his of course, as they hurried to cater to customers. The rings of bells echoed through the street as people went in and came out of the shops.

He grinned to himself. Oh what a lovely Christmas eve.

He waited till the hustle and bustle had gone before springing into action. Letting himself through the chimney of the house he was atop, he entered the house through the fireplace. Looking around, he made sure that the occupants of the house were sleeping and slowly crept towards the bedroom.

Carefully opening the door, he stepped inside noiselessly. The parents were sleeping peacefully. He approached them and stared at them for a moment. Raising his knife, he quickly swung it across their necks. He watched as their eyes snapped open while blood oozed from their necks. They scrambled to stop the bleeding and opened their mouths to yell out to their children but the only sound that came out was them choking on their own blood. He grinned at them before stabbing them in the chest over and over again. Blood splashed on his white beard and red clothes. Once he was sure that they were dead, he went to the children's room. They were still sleeping. Taking careful steps towards them, he gazed at their innocent faces. A thrill went through him. He was going to take another two innocent lives today, how lovely.

Slashing their throats and stabbing them, he left to search for his next victim.

As dawn arrived, he quickly finished off the last family and left for the North Pole. Taking off his blood-soaked clothes and wearing a new set, he sat at his table. He looked at the list of naughty kids on his list and ticked off ten names. Done. He then glanced at the mirror beside him. His light blue eyes sparkled as he smiled at himself. A flash of red was in his eyes for a moment as he recalled the killings. Dear Santa isn't the angel people thought he was.

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She stood in the midst of it all. It was a mix of blues and whites around her. The sky was cloudy; snowflakes softly falling on her blonde hair. Her blue eyes were as cold as her surroundings. People stood around her, frozen in their places by her. Their faces held various expressions. Anger and shock mostly. Except for one face. It hurt her to look at her precious face filled with sadness.

She avoided looking at her and glanced around. She was alone and free at last. No one was there to restrict her. She wondered whether she could thaw the people later on. A part of her felt regret and remorse for what she did. She wanted to bring them back to life. The other part of her that is simply tired of it all wanted to let them be. All they gave her was suffering. They do not deserve her sympathy.

She walked out of the courtyard and towards the fjord. The water was frozen too. Carefully stepping onto the ice, she took a few steps to make sure that it was solid. Once she was certain of it, she ran across the ice, letting it all out. She let her feelings take control of her for once in her life. She froze everything within sight and broke it all. She had no control. It was gone. She created an icicle storm. Shards of ice falling all over her as freezing cold winds gusted by her, her hair flying lose out of its plait.

Closing her eyes, she screamed through the raging storm borne out of her anger. She created towers, pillars, swords, daggers out of ice and hurled them at the palace, destroying its walls. She aimed the weapons at the frozen people, not caring about them.

But. Seeing her face, she dropped onto the icy ground, scraping her knee and broke down. Tears streamed down her face as she looked at her. Staring at the blood gushing out of her injury, she moved her away to the cellars where she would be safe and continued her destruction of the kingdom which despised and feared her.

When she opened her eyes, it was a barren landscape. Broken pieces of frozen bodies and buildings lay before her. It was a waste land. She was alone. There was no one. Her sister was there in the cellars, safe but frozen. She wanted to thaw her. She knew she could. But. What would she do when she sees the ruins of what was once her beloved Arendelle? No. She did not want to make her go through that pain. She was selfish. She was ashamed of what her sister would think of her. She was scared that she would hate her. She would keep her frozen and with her death, her sister will come back to life. She will never know about this. And she will be happy. But as for herself? She will be alone and free from it all. A sense of calmness fell over her as she came to the decision. Finally at peace, she started walking towards the mountains that were more of a home to her than the kingdom ever was.

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She gazed around at the people on either side of the path, gazing eagerly into the carriage. Turning to her prince, she smiled. She was free at last. Leaning against him, she kept her head on his shoulder and looked up at him with a soft smile.

The prince had gone to deal with matters of the kingdom, leaving her alone in the castle. Alone for the first time since marrying the prince, she stood in front of the window and gazed at the kingdom. She was queen. She couldn't believe it. After years of being treated like she was nothing by her stepmother and stepsisters, she couldn't believe that someone as kind as the prince loved her. Remembering how they tore her mother's dress, tears spilled from her eyes. She tried to forgive them. She really did. But she couldn't. It was just one time too many.

Blinking the tears away, she tried to forget them. She was with someone who dearly loved her and would never mistreat her. But a small voice in her head screamed, Why?! What did I do to deserve all that?!

With a gasp of long held pain, she fell on her knees and cried. She needed to know why they treated her that way. She gave them everything they needed and took care of them. So why?!

After a while, she stopped crying and wiped her tears. With a deep breath, she looked out the window and decided to pay them a visit. Now that she was queen, she does not have to be scared of them doing anything to her.

After sending a letter to the prince and informing the guards about her destination, she set off to her former home in the night. The hood of her dark blue cloak flew back in the wind as she rode on her horse. She wondered how they would react when they see her. Knowing them, they would probably look down on her and taunt her for being unable to do anything without them. The thought of them sneering at her made her angry. Suddenly her mind was clear as the cold night air hit her face. They abused her ever since her father died. They never loved her. They were just lazy women who used her to do everything and swindled away her father's money.

Arriving at her former home with her blood boiling, she got off her horse and lowered her hood.

It was unkempt, vines growing in abundance on the stone walls. The wooden door was worn and crumbling. The dust on the windows glistened in the moonlight.

Fallen leaves crunched under her feet as she walked towards the house that was her home for so many years. Taking a deep, shaky breath, she knocked on the broken door. The moment her hand made contact with the door; wood dust settled down on her hand. Lightly wiping away the dust, she took a step back and waited for them to open the door.

Hearing footsteps inside the house, she braced herself to face her abusers.

The door opened with a creak, revealing a pair of young women in raggedy clothes with hair like bird's nest. Her eyes widened in surprise as she could barely recognize her stepsisters. Gone were the fancy hairstyles and grand dresses. Their faces seemed to have aged years when it was only a few months since she last saw them.

She saw their eyes recognize her as Drizzela stepped inside the house, "Mother! Look who's here! Cinderella!"

Anastasia took a step towards her with a genuine smile, "Well, you seemed to be doing well, Cinderella. Such fashionable clothes. And a horse too!"

She nodded slowly, "How have you been doing Anastasia?"

Anastasia laughed mockingly, "Look at my clothes and tell me, Cinderella! You left us to live in poverty while you hog all the riches at the castle!"

Taking a step back, she shook her head, "I wasn't mocking you. I'm sorry it seemed that way. I only wanted to know how you're doing."

Anastasia lowered her head as Drizzela stared at her with hatred in her eyes, "You stole our chance to be happy and live in luxury!"

Shaking her head, she saw her stepmother emerge from the house.

Tears filling up her eyes, she whispered, "No."

Lady Tremaine had barely changed. She looked as poised as ever. Seems like she managed to take care of herself at the cost of her own daughters' wellbeing.

A smirk made its way across her face, "Well, well. Cinderella. Couldn't live without us, dear?"

Memories flashed across her mind. The sisters tearing up her mother's dress. Yelling at her for the slightest mistake. Telling her to cook, clean and look after everything. Locking her up in her room so she couldn't try the glass slipper.

The tears streamed down her face as she yelled, "Why?!"

Through her blurry vision, she saw Anastasia look pained as she looked at her.

Lady Tremaine raised her eyebrow mockingly and asked, "Why what?"

She screamed, tears pouring down, "Why did you treat me like I was nothing?! You tore up my mother's beautiful dress! You used me like some servant when you were my family! You never cared for me! I was always doing everything!"

The woman laughed, "You're as stupid and naïve as I thought."

She closed her eyes tightly as she tried to control her breathing. When she opened them, she looked at them and saw how the woman stared at her own daughters with disgust.

The realization made her sick.

She whispered, "You monster. You were jealous of me. You thought I was more beautiful and saw that I had a good chance of marrying a good man with money. You wanted that for your daughters but you thought they weren't beautiful so you hid me and used me so no one will see me."

Anastasia looked like something broke inside her as she turned to her mother and asked in a shaky voice, "Is that true?"

Her mother rolled her eyes, "Of course its true. With her gone, you two would finally be able to marry well. It obviously didn't happen."

A lone tear fell from Anastasia's eyes as she stepped away from her mother and towards Cinderella. Drizzela looked shocked but recovered quickly. Her mother was willing to get rid of that girl for them. What the hell is wrong with Anastasia?!

Anastasia looked at Cinderella with pained eyes, "I'm so sorry for the way I treated you. I should never have done that. You're the one who should be with the prince, not either of us."

Her mother rolled her eyes again, "Are you done here? I need my sleep."

Cinderella turned to Anastasia with a gentle smile, "Thank you."

She then looked at the woman with anger in her eyes, "You used your daughters to climb up the ladder. What kind of mother are you?!"

Lady Tremaine chuckled, "The mother your own stupid mother never was. Otherwise you wouldn't have been such a doormat."

Drizzela laughed as Anastasia gasped.

She stared at her, their laughter a ringing in her ears.

All she saw was red as she grabbed the knife she had hidden in her dress to cut the vines around the gate and rushed to them.

Without thinking, she stabbed the woman over and over again. Blood sprayed over her cloak as the woman collapsed. Feeling a pair of hands try to grab her, she turned around and slit the throat of whoever it was before turning back to plunge the knife into the woman again and again. Realizing that she was just stabbing a lifeless body, she stood up and staggered back. The knife slipped from her bloody hand as she saw the body of Lady Tremaine covered in knife wounds and blood lying on the dusty ground. A gasp of shock escaped her lips as she realised that she had slit the throat of Drizzela who had bled to death next to her mother.

Anastasia was kneeling on the ground next to a large tree, sobbing her heart out.

Shaking her head in disbelief, she fell onto her knees. They were dead by her hand. Tears spilled from her eyes as she gazed at their bodies. She felt no relief, only guilt. She should not have come here. She should have stayed at the castle. It was all her fault.

Still hearing their laughter ringing in her ears, she fell on the ground, screaming her lungs out at what she did. Looking at her trembling, bloody hands, she shook her head and cried. She killed two people. She took the lives of two people. Despicable as they were, they did not deserve it.

Closing her eyes, she cried herself to sleep, hoping that when morning comes, she would be back in the castle and that this would all just be a nightmare.

Chapter Text

She watched as the Father pushed Phoebus out of the cathedral with her beloved Djali jumping and knocking on Phoebus' back with his horns when she felt someone behind her.

He grabbed her left arm and twisted it behind her back, holding her right shoulder tightly as she let out a gasp.

A voice she recognized as Frollo's whispered, "You think you've outwitted me. But I'm a patient man. And gypsies don't do well inside stone walls."

She felt him pause and bury his nose in her hair. Disgust filled her as she realised what he was thinking. Narrowing her eyes, she spat, "What are you doing?"

Caressing her neck, he smugly smiled, his warm breath hitting the back of her neck, "I was just imagining a rope around that beautiful neck."

Repulsed by his lust for her, she twisted out of his grasp and shoved him away, "I know what you were imagining!"

She glared at him, rage running through her veins as he chuckled, "Such a clever witch. So typical of your kind to twist the truth to cloud the mind with unholy thoughts."

She watched angrily as he stepped back and walked to the door, his eyes roaming the church, "No matter. You've chosen a magnificent prison. But it is a prison, nonetheless. Set one foot outside and you're mine."

There was a strange glitter in his eyes as he said 'mine' that sent shivers down her spine.

As he left, closing the door behind him, she rushed to the side door and opened it to see that he had stationed guards at every door.

Damn him!

Leaning against the wall, she slid down to the floor and wrapped her arms around her knees, placing her head atop her knees as Djali came and laid beside her. Her heart pounded as a multitude of thoughts ran through her mind.

Frollo ordering the soldiers to capture her people. Soldiers dragging them across the hard ground, injuring them and tossing the bleeding people inside wooden cages like animals. Frollo silently watching as the Parisians mocked Quasimodo, throwing fruits at him and tying him up. Refusing Phoebus' request to help Quasimodo and watching arrogantly as the poor boy was humiliated.

Tears slipped through her closed eyes as she clenched her jaw in anger and gripped her arm with trembling hands.

He could not be allowed to torture anymore innocent people. She had to do something. But how could she? She's trapped in this church. And that despicable man was right. She doesn't do well inside stone walls.

She racked her mind and came up with a way to rid Paris of the monster. Biting her lower lip, she looked at the larger-than-life statue of Mother Mary and prayed that she'd be able to save them all.

Carefully opening the side door, she looked around and saw the guards stationed a small distance away from the door. Taking a deep breath, she pretended to sneak past the guards. One guard noticed her as she deliberately walked in his line of vision. He immediately rushed over to her and grabbed her by the arm while calling out to his companion, "We should take her to Judge Frollo."

The guards then escorted her to Frollo's abode.

Knocking on the front door, they stood back and waited till Frollo opened the door. A smug smile grazed his face as he opened the door wider and walked back inside. The guards threw her onto the floor. Landing on her knees, she flung out her arms to break the fall and scraped her palms. Drops of blood oozed out of the wounds as she steadied herself and let out shaky breaths. The guards closed the door behind them and left, leaving her to Frollo's mercy.

He towered over her, standing in front of the fireplace with the vermillion flames dancing behind him like the fires of hell. Little wonder seeing as he was just as cruel as Satan himself.

The heat from the fireplace made the wounds on her hands sting more. Gritting her teeth, she tried to ignore the pain.

Wiping the dust off her clothes, she stood up and glared at him as he grinned, "As expected gypsy, you were unable to stay there for long."

He walked to her and leaned close to her with a dark fire in his eyes, his warm breath hitting her lips as she took an involuntary step back, "Choose me and I will save you from the flames of this world and the next. Or you will burn."

Anger boiled through her as he stepped close to her but she could not lose her temper. She had to save everyone.

Even though her skin crawled at his close proximity, she smiled sweetly, "I choose you."

As he grinned triumphantly and leaned forward to kiss her, she instinctively took a step back and whipped out the knife hidden at her ankle, stabbing him in the chest.

Staring at her in surprise, he staggered back, blood pouring out in copious amounts. Spluttering curses through his blood covered mouth, he fell onto his knees, trying to stop his bleeding as she watched without emotion.

Kicking him on to his back, she kneeled next to him and pulled out the dagger.

Swiftly slitting his throat before he could yell, she looked at him with empty green eyes, "This is for all the suffering you caused for the people of this city."

She coldly observed him clutching at his slashed throat, crimson liquid seeping through his fingers, struggling to breathe as blood pooled around his neck.

Stepping back, she coolly watched his grey eyes fill with fear as he choked on his own blood, letting out a strangled cry. The last thing he saw was her icy smile as his eyes fluttered close, his blood covered hands dropping to his sides.

Sheathing her knife, she walked to a nearby window and glanced around for any guards. Seeing none, she crept away, her heart at ease with the knowledge that her people were finally free and Quasimodo was no longer under the control of that evil man.