Chapter Two: Choose Me

Dawn was fast approaching. Streaks of bloody red and dull orange shot across the sky as if the flames of Hell were already on their way to consume her. With a resigned sigh, Esmeralda leaned her head back against the wooden stake and closed her eyes. Briefly, she wondered what it would be like to burn. She had only witnessed a public burning once, many years ago, when she was still young. Her mother, Natalia, lashed to a stake much like the one that was currently driving splinters into her own back. Natalia had said nothing whilst the judge rattled off the list of her crimes from the scroll that was pinched between his fingers. But when torch was applied to the brush, it immediately went up in flame, and Esmeralda remembered running away then. Leaving the scene far, far behind her, but her mother's agonized screams still rang in her ears and the stench of charred flesh was still thick in the air.

The sound of beating drums snapped her back into reality. Esmeralda's eyes opened and she lowered her head just in time to see him ascending to the platform. Bile rose to her throat at the very sight of him. The man who had ruined her, had dared to touch her! She hated him; she should have killed him while she had the chance. Burning would have been made so much more pleasant, then.

Judge Claude Frollo certainly looked refreshed. He had bathed before deigning to grace the scene with his presence, which was probably why they were off to such a late start. She watched as he moved closer to her, hating every movement he made. From the prissy way he kept the hem of his robe off the ground to the haughty way he lifted the torch from the executioner's hand. As he approached her, the firelight glinted off his dark eyes, and something inside of her recoiled. She knew what he was about to do. Oh my God, she groaned inwardly. He is going to drag this out.

"The time has come, gypsy." His dark voice rolled over her, sending literal shivers down her spine. "You stand upon the brink of the abyss. Yet even now, it is not too late." He stopped just inches away from her, and leaned forward so close their noses were touching. "I can save you from the flames of this world, and the next."

Esmeralda closed her eyes, her breathing coming too quickly, her heart pounding so loudly in her chest that she was certain everyone could hear it. Instinct told her to refuse, to let him burn her, anything was better than whatever it was he had in mind.

The flames of this world …

Her head was reeling. The heat of the torch's flames was scorching against her skin. Suddenly, she remembered it all. The smell of the black smoke as it billowed in the air, her mother's agonized screams as the greedy flames licked the flesh away from her bones. The smell of burning flesh, those screams… those screams…

She couldn't do it! She couldn't face it – her mother may have been brave – and Esmeralda certainly had her own share of bravado – but she couldn't take it to that height. She had done nothing wrong, there was no reason for her to burn. No reason…

And there, his voice was so low it was nearly a growl. It tightened places that had been violated already by him the night before. "Choose me," he said. "Or the fire."

She couldn't do it, she couldn't say it. She glanced up again at the sky, not wanting to look at him, not wanting to see the expectant faces of her people who were all about to face the same fate. She was first, she was going to be the first sacrifice for their kind. She had to accept it with dignity; she was all the hope they had to look up to.

She had failed them once, to fail them again would be unbearable.

And Phoebus, she knew Phoebus would be in the crowd. She knew he would be disappointed in her. She felt the tears begin to rise again, unbidden. She had failed, not only the gypsies, but herself.

She drew in a deep breath and looked at Frollo, who stood waiting patiently, an unbearable smirk twisted his thin lips and marred completely his sanctimonious expression.

Galled, she lowered her head, her eyes fixed on the ground as she spoke. She just couldn't bear to look at him.

"I can't face it," she whispered, amazed that the words could even find their way out. "Save me."

He seemed slightly taken aback, as if it weren't quite the turn of events he had been expecting. The smirk grew darker, and his eyes gleamed, making her squirm. "All you have to do," he allowed his voice to climb, she visibly flinched. "Is claim sanctuary, and proclaim to all that you recant your wicked ways."

"I recant," the words came out more like a sob. Frollo grasped her chin and lifted it up sharply, so that their eyes meant.

"Louder," he hissed. "They must be able to hear you, my dear."

"I can't!" she shook her head. "I've said it! Isn't that enough for you…?"

His fingers clamped down harder than iron over her jaw, and the tears streamed down her cheeks.

"I RECANT!" she screamed.

Frollo released her chin. Her mother's screams were fading from her memory now, much to her relief.

"The prisoner Esmeralda has recanted," his voice just radiated self-satisfaction. "She has repented of her wicked ways and has turned from the darkness and the lures of The Enemy." He stroked her cheek, almost fondly, in a manner. "God has forgiven her, and so, dear people, must we. From henceforth she shall be a reformed woman, wise and pure in the ways of our world. Child, pick yourself up. You are a redeemed woman!"

In that moment, she hated him so much that it was a physical ache in the pit of her stomach. She would have lunged at his thin neck, if she weren't still bound to the stake. He had won her, this time, but she knew for certain that before her last breath rose from her chest, he would be dead.

To Be Continued…