The evil spirits that may still haunt Notre Dame Part 8
If it was ever
disclosed, my complete profile would reveal all sorts of minority groups, starting with my gender
and race. I have been harassed on many levels throughout my life, but I lacked
the stomach and power to carry out revenge. This was a blessing in
disguise because retribution eventually manifested itself, which inspired me to
share it on this blog. I quote many others before me that ‘True horror
is hidden within man’.
EPISODE 8
There is a police station on the island of
Cite in the middle of historical Paris. It is where the world-renowned La Notre Dame Cathedral is crowned. The price of real estate on this island is
literally ‘Priceless.’ And yet, behind
the Cathedral stands this police station (not to be confused with the prefecture de police on the other side of the Cathedral). From the point of view of any real estate agent, it is a massive waste
of potential, but…the history of this tiny area is too horrendous that it may even
have defeated human greed and vanity. Now that does not happen usually, but this is
Paris.
What I am about to share here, I must admit
I have seen only two sources: Wikipedia and the news site LOCAL. However, I could not find any other credible explanation
for this peculiar situation of this tiny spot behind the altar of God.
There once was this butcher who offered
cheap accommodation to the tourists. In one article, he held the shop on Rue Chanoinesse, but in the other, rue des Marmousets and rue des Deux-Hermits. The accommodation in Paris must have always been expensive. However, those unsuspecting tourists or foreign students were not
seen checking out for years until the butcher was finally exposed as a human flesh trader. That he was not caught out immediately
implies that the cursed flesh was fed to other unsuspecting tourists. Parisians of the time must have gotten wind
of it, but living in Paris was hard enough that they could not be expected to
look after the outsiders who would come and go or disappear in this case.
I am not suggesting that Cannibalism is
alive and well in Paris, but the attitude of anything-goes-with the tourists is
still evident, and I am not talking about financial rip-off only. Just last week, I spotted a whole chicken at one outdoor market. The price was meagre for a chicken
of this famous regional brand, but it was smallish, so I gambled. The worst that could happen was dry, tasteless
meat.
Wrong. As I bit into the morsel of my roasted chicken, I heard that ominous ‘crack.’ I took out from my mouth a piece of bone that
chipped off my front tooth. And then I
found the brittle bones inside the dry meat. An old bird it was, perhaps? But soon, I started to feel sick. Then
I noticed many other brittle pieces of bones, just too many for one chicken. I pondered what the bird
was being subjected to before it was finally butchered. Not believing the worst, I tried
the chicken again the next day and felt sick again, but not the kind of food
poisoning sickness. I thought I was being
exposed to chemicals. I remembered
ruefully that the woman who sold the chicken brought it out from the back of
her stall instead of giving me the chickens on display. My Asian appearance is a dead giveaway that I was a non-Parisian. I dumped the chicken in the bin.
My next true horror story of modern
Paris is about one restaurant. If my previous neighbour Leila was a psychopath, this
restaurant turned out to be a devil that drove out other evils.