The Canterfiction Tales

Frollos In Paris- Part 1

The fire burns, hotter and hotter scorching your skin. No matter how hard you try, you can't reach them. Their cries frantic and the pain in their voices is so gut wrenching you think you might be sick, right there on the spot. But no, you can't stop now. Just a little farther and they will be safe in your arms. Then you feel a strong gnarled hand yank you back. The bony fingers digging into your neck. "Lâchez-moi! Lâchez-moi !"  You wheeze in French, telling them to let you go. But the hand doesn't let go, the grip just gets tighter and tighter. Using your last bit of strength, a blast of adrenaline courses through your veins and you rip the hand from your neck. But now the three people you love most are so far away you feel as though you may never catch them. You feel the last bit of your strength slipping away, cursing that your body refuses to cooperate. Your muscles

The Canterfiction Tales

seize up and you drop, but still you refuse to stop. You crawl. The rough ground scrape up your arms and legs but you push on. You hear a stamped of big, black muddy boots and the the clanging of metal being unsheathed. They run in the direction you are headed. When they get there there are two shouts. A man and a woman. "Maman! Papá!" It's a young voice, a boy, crying for his mother and father. Then the most horrific cry. It jolts your heart and freezes your blood. "Aide." You squeak in French. But help doesn't come. You lie there, numb and broken. Then, you hear a girl's voice. "Claude...get up." She says. "You refuse, burying your face in the gritty dirt. "Claude, Levez-vous!" This time she yells in French. Annoyed, you look up, wishing this girl would just leave you alone. You you can't get a good look at her, as your vision begins to blur, but you can tell her eyes are bright green. She bends down and places a hand on your cheek. Ça ira. Promets-moi juste que tu reviendras... Her voice faded into a whisper as she tells you to promise to come back.  Then you finally black out, into nothing but darkness.

Ica was jolted awake by Claude thrashing around beside her like a fish that had been thrown onto the bank, struggling to breathe. He was screaming out in French. Ica only understood a few French words but other than that she had no clue what he was saying. Their two cats, Irish and Nixen shot off the bed, their silver and red fur standing on end, making them look twice their size. Panicking, she shook her husband vigorously with both hands, trying to save him from his night terror.

Claude! Claude! Wake up!" She shook him but he couldn't seem to break free of his sleep paralysis. Zephyr! I need your help!" She cried, hoping her son could help wake his father.

Zephyr flung himself out of bed and stormed down the hall, with their golden retriever at his heels. He jumped on the bed and tried to grab his father's hands to stop him from flailing but can't quiet get a grip. "Papá! Come on! Snap out of it!" Claude's left hand slipped from Zephyr's grasp. His wild hands accidentally made

Frollos In Paris- Part 1

contact with his son's face with an audible smack. Zephyr yelped and held the side of his cheek, which immediately started to bruise. Roary barked, sharp and high, as if trying to wake his human dad as well.

Ica frustrated and almost furious seeing Claude hit Zephyr, she got on top of him, straddling his body and pinned his arms to his side, then laid completely down on him covering his body with hers trying to calm him. Finally he shot up with a yelp, and his dark gray eyes flick open. His breathing was coming out in fast ragged breaths and his thin bangs were plastered to his forehead with sweat. Ica grabbed his face and looked into his eyes making sure he was actually awake and all there.

"Claude?" She said softly. "Are you okay?"

He gave a quick shake of his head. "W-what happened?"