Name The Stars
Jun. 13th, 2013 05:40 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
katleeptTitle: "Name The Stars"
Author: Kat Lee
Rating: R/M
Summary:
Disclaimer: All recognizable characters, names, codenames, places, items, fandoms, titles, and etc. are always © & TM their respective owners, not the author, and are used without permission. Any and all original characters and everything else is © & TM the author and may not be reproduced in any way without the author's express, written permission. The author makes absolutely no profit off of this work of fan fiction, and no copyright infringement is intended.
He lays on his back on Sabrina's bed, a look of intent concentration steadfastly upon his handsome, furry face, but he's not looking at the ceiling. He's looking through the wooden beams and ceiling tires, though his magic has long been taken from him. He doesn't see the ceiling or the attic above it. He looks instead to the stars themselves.
He could name every one of them. The humans say it can not be done and that they can not even be counted. Yet he could name them all and has counted them, each and every one, many times. He's counted them from the Spellman roof and from the deck of a Pirate ship sailing underneath his orders. He's counted them from the highest turret of his castle, the rolling, green lands of Ireland, and from the midst of Stonehenge.
He's counted them many times over, knows exactly how many they are, and every time that one falls, but he's named them before. He could do so easily now but chooses not to. If he did name them, he would name them for those who have fallen, for those who gave him and their cause his all, for those friends, family, and subjects whom he's buried, but Salem knows there will never be enough stars to name for every one he's laid into the ground. He thinks of them now, though he tries not to.
He remembers the little Werewolf girl who was slain before her parents turned on the humans who hunted them and were killed while trying to destroy as many of their daughter's murderers as they could. He thinks of the great, legendary Vampire who only turned against the mortals when they took his wife from him. He remembers the animals and monsters who were killed not because they incited fear or because they were a danger to any one but rather for their body parts, which they humans believed to contain magical properties to make their sex lives more exciting or their body parts work better. The mortals have nearly made so many species, like the unicorns and dragons, almost extinct in their desire to slaughter them and use their magic for themselves.
He remembers the covens who laid down their lives for him, the packs and families who turned from the horrors they had known to follow him only to also be killed at human hands. He recalls each being who promised him they would follow him to the ends of the earth and give everything they possessed to his cause to conquer the humans not because he simply wanted to rule the world but rather because he wanted the deaths to stop. He wanted the murders and tortures to cease. He wanted his people to be able to live in the open without fear of being killed for what they were.
But the murders never did stop. He was bested by some of the very people whom he tried to protect. One day, Drell and the others who sat with their high and mighty attitudes in the Council seat, never caring for the common Witch, Warlock, or other being, never truly caring for any one other than their own greedy and stupid hides, would feel the sting of humanity. They would be slain because the humans wanted something they had. Perhaps a human would try to cut off Drell's pointing, accusing finger to possess his magic for them selves, but most likely, they'd start with the lower and weaker members of the Council.
However it happened, Salem knew with a swish of his tail, they would get them eventually for the humans conquered everything and one that was mightier than they. They killed, slaughtered, and tortured every innocent except for their own, and they had even been known to kill millions of their own. Fathers raped little girls; mothers beat tiny, shriveling boys into submission. Parents killed their children every day, and kids killed their parents. It was in every newspaper, on every television set, including the one he could hear rattling down below as Zelda watched it.
Humans were the destroyers. They were monsters, and he had almost stopped them. He would have succeeded, too, if not for Drell and other fools like him. He would have saved their people. He would have conquered the world and made it a safe haven again for all those the humans judged monsters while they were the true, hideous creatures always murdering everything from which they thought they could gleam any hint of power. He would not have been able to save all whom he buried, but he would have saved many.
He would have made the deaths of those he could not save mean something more than what they had, too. They had tried so hard, lost so many, and for what? So that humans could continue plaguing their kind? So that he could lose all his powers, become trapped in this feline form, and never hope again to save those who had entrusted not only their lives but the lives of those they saved in him? Or so the Council thought.
Salem turned his back to the stars with a growl and set to kneading the bed beneath his small and furry body. His tail swished angrily as he vowed he'd never give up! He might have to wait another decade or two or perhaps even another century or a millennia even, but he'd never give up. Eventually, the humans would take Drell. They'd destroy him and the Council as they had so many good Witches and Wizards, Vampires and Weres, animals and Faeries.
They'd destroy them, make them beg for mercy, and force them to finally realize that he'd been right all along. There was only one way to stop the humans, and that was to rule the world. Not all of them would have to be enslaved. There were, after all, a few good ones in their species, just as there was both good and evil in all the species throughout all the realms. He'd let the ones like Harvey peacefully live out their lives.
But the others, the ones who killed just to have body parts that were not theirs bent to their control, the ones who raped, pillaged, and destroyed every good their filthy hands touched, the ones who had and would continue to kill his people . . . They would all pay. He'd kill them slowly, just as he had watched them crucially torment his men, women, and children until they succumbed to the cruel madness ravaged upon their bodies and slipped into the only release they could reach in death.
He'd make them pay. He just had to wait for them to take Drell and the others out of his way. He had to wait for his rightful body and his magics to be restored, but once they were, nothing would stop him again. He would rule the world, and in his world, his people would live freely. All the so-called monsters and the animals, too, would be safe, and he'd rule above them all, keeping the humans tightly in their rightful cages and granting all those who deserved it happiness, prosperity, love, and peace.
Maybe then, Salem thought, kneading Sabrina's sheets and whisking his tail, maybe then, he'd name the stars, but not for the dead. There would never be enough stars for every one who had died at the humans' hands. He'd have to name them for their descendants instead, for the tortured souls who lived long enough to see a new world dawn in his world order. He would name the stars, he decided. He would name them for the good who still lived, and they would reign forever.
The End
Author: Kat Lee
Rating: R/M
Summary:
Disclaimer: All recognizable characters, names, codenames, places, items, fandoms, titles, and etc. are always © & TM their respective owners, not the author, and are used without permission. Any and all original characters and everything else is © & TM the author and may not be reproduced in any way without the author's express, written permission. The author makes absolutely no profit off of this work of fan fiction, and no copyright infringement is intended.
He lays on his back on Sabrina's bed, a look of intent concentration steadfastly upon his handsome, furry face, but he's not looking at the ceiling. He's looking through the wooden beams and ceiling tires, though his magic has long been taken from him. He doesn't see the ceiling or the attic above it. He looks instead to the stars themselves.
He could name every one of them. The humans say it can not be done and that they can not even be counted. Yet he could name them all and has counted them, each and every one, many times. He's counted them from the Spellman roof and from the deck of a Pirate ship sailing underneath his orders. He's counted them from the highest turret of his castle, the rolling, green lands of Ireland, and from the midst of Stonehenge.
He's counted them many times over, knows exactly how many they are, and every time that one falls, but he's named them before. He could do so easily now but chooses not to. If he did name them, he would name them for those who have fallen, for those who gave him and their cause his all, for those friends, family, and subjects whom he's buried, but Salem knows there will never be enough stars to name for every one he's laid into the ground. He thinks of them now, though he tries not to.
He remembers the little Werewolf girl who was slain before her parents turned on the humans who hunted them and were killed while trying to destroy as many of their daughter's murderers as they could. He thinks of the great, legendary Vampire who only turned against the mortals when they took his wife from him. He remembers the animals and monsters who were killed not because they incited fear or because they were a danger to any one but rather for their body parts, which they humans believed to contain magical properties to make their sex lives more exciting or their body parts work better. The mortals have nearly made so many species, like the unicorns and dragons, almost extinct in their desire to slaughter them and use their magic for themselves.
He remembers the covens who laid down their lives for him, the packs and families who turned from the horrors they had known to follow him only to also be killed at human hands. He recalls each being who promised him they would follow him to the ends of the earth and give everything they possessed to his cause to conquer the humans not because he simply wanted to rule the world but rather because he wanted the deaths to stop. He wanted the murders and tortures to cease. He wanted his people to be able to live in the open without fear of being killed for what they were.
But the murders never did stop. He was bested by some of the very people whom he tried to protect. One day, Drell and the others who sat with their high and mighty attitudes in the Council seat, never caring for the common Witch, Warlock, or other being, never truly caring for any one other than their own greedy and stupid hides, would feel the sting of humanity. They would be slain because the humans wanted something they had. Perhaps a human would try to cut off Drell's pointing, accusing finger to possess his magic for them selves, but most likely, they'd start with the lower and weaker members of the Council.
However it happened, Salem knew with a swish of his tail, they would get them eventually for the humans conquered everything and one that was mightier than they. They killed, slaughtered, and tortured every innocent except for their own, and they had even been known to kill millions of their own. Fathers raped little girls; mothers beat tiny, shriveling boys into submission. Parents killed their children every day, and kids killed their parents. It was in every newspaper, on every television set, including the one he could hear rattling down below as Zelda watched it.
Humans were the destroyers. They were monsters, and he had almost stopped them. He would have succeeded, too, if not for Drell and other fools like him. He would have saved their people. He would have conquered the world and made it a safe haven again for all those the humans judged monsters while they were the true, hideous creatures always murdering everything from which they thought they could gleam any hint of power. He would not have been able to save all whom he buried, but he would have saved many.
He would have made the deaths of those he could not save mean something more than what they had, too. They had tried so hard, lost so many, and for what? So that humans could continue plaguing their kind? So that he could lose all his powers, become trapped in this feline form, and never hope again to save those who had entrusted not only their lives but the lives of those they saved in him? Or so the Council thought.
Salem turned his back to the stars with a growl and set to kneading the bed beneath his small and furry body. His tail swished angrily as he vowed he'd never give up! He might have to wait another decade or two or perhaps even another century or a millennia even, but he'd never give up. Eventually, the humans would take Drell. They'd destroy him and the Council as they had so many good Witches and Wizards, Vampires and Weres, animals and Faeries.
They'd destroy them, make them beg for mercy, and force them to finally realize that he'd been right all along. There was only one way to stop the humans, and that was to rule the world. Not all of them would have to be enslaved. There were, after all, a few good ones in their species, just as there was both good and evil in all the species throughout all the realms. He'd let the ones like Harvey peacefully live out their lives.
But the others, the ones who killed just to have body parts that were not theirs bent to their control, the ones who raped, pillaged, and destroyed every good their filthy hands touched, the ones who had and would continue to kill his people . . . They would all pay. He'd kill them slowly, just as he had watched them crucially torment his men, women, and children until they succumbed to the cruel madness ravaged upon their bodies and slipped into the only release they could reach in death.
He'd make them pay. He just had to wait for them to take Drell and the others out of his way. He had to wait for his rightful body and his magics to be restored, but once they were, nothing would stop him again. He would rule the world, and in his world, his people would live freely. All the so-called monsters and the animals, too, would be safe, and he'd rule above them all, keeping the humans tightly in their rightful cages and granting all those who deserved it happiness, prosperity, love, and peace.
Maybe then, Salem thought, kneading Sabrina's sheets and whisking his tail, maybe then, he'd name the stars, but not for the dead. There would never be enough stars for every one who had died at the humans' hands. He'd have to name them for their descendants instead, for the tortured souls who lived long enough to see a new world dawn in his world order. He would name the stars, he decided. He would name them for the good who still lived, and they would reign forever.
The End
