May 2013
30 posts
❝Whoever you want me to be, little lamb. Would it make you feel better if I had a name like Jane? Or Jessica?❞
❝I don’t — I don’t understand. Do you even have an ident— Silas?❞ Please — don’t be Silas.
❝little witch little witch; what brings you to my way?❞
❝…. I don’t know — who— are you?❞
It hurt for a while, knowing that he essentially had nobody. His siblings didn’t care for his death, bar the reaction his flaming body provoked from the elder brother he assumed would care the least — ironic. But he quickly grew to accept it. The male was disliked from his sister and his brothers, he knew that, he always knew that; but better to be disliked for who you are than liked for someone you’re not, right? Something like that.
Disliked for doing the right thing, disliked for trying to save the world while the so-called heroes aimed for its destruction. What a strange world they lived in.
”Neither will I be,” he mused. “When the veil’s dropped for good next time, I’ll have an army at my command just like before. I’ll wipe my every opponent off the face of the Earth. Who’s going to stop me? Thousands of vampires will be summoned upon a few words, the realization that their link to my bloodline is as critical as it is. Their only purpose would be to ensure my survival, so who’s going to defy my commands?”
He rolled his eyes. “Right… The bratty Bennett witch. You don’t scare me.”
He keeps thinking that — that the veil will be dropped.
She’s dead, & no other witch could do it. Silas personally aimed for Bonnie, — so how’d he expect it open again?
❝You and your army. You’ll stay here, with me, with us. Your army’s dead. And the veil is closed.❞
She’s not meant to scare him. He doesn’t scare her either, not anymore. He can’t touch her friends, family. Not as long as the veils closed.
❝The Runt Mikaelson,❞ she replied. If they were living, she wouldn’t dare be saying this. But they’re dead, — they’re dead. Her thoughts kept reminding her.
”You think? Silas isn’t here any more, princess. He’s not on this side with you. If there’s anything I’ve learned while being here it’s that the spirits of the dead aren’t to be feared as much as folk-lore like you to think.” The original took a small step closer, the delight on his expression increasing, not because he enjoyed being here — far from that — but because Bonnie was finally going to get a taste of the torture, the loneliness, the other side.
”But you will be,” he said, certain. “Sooner or later you’ll come to regret such a foolish choice even if it takes you a thousand years. The world of the supernatural is filled with possibilities and I’ve learned in my time that there’s no use giving up, love. One day, I’ll no longer be held back by these invisible restraints… And mark my words,” he whispered, stepping up to her so close that her breaths were crystal clear against his cheek. “Every living descendant of the precious Bennett bloodline will be reduced to dust.”
”—You just best hope your father lives short enough to evade me.”
— Point received. She held some hope, considering the witches found ways against her in the past. Bonnie couldn’t respond, she was nervous, upset, — but not miserable. She had done the right thing, & believed it. Because that’s the only thing getting her through it, it only made sense.
❝Maybe one day. But not today.❞ She nearly spat out.
She had people. Her Grandmother, — Jeremy. She can talk to him. She;ll watch people mourn her. & him? She felt sorry for him.
Threatening her? Her family? — She was able to bring him down twice before.
But she couldn’t watch him always, his steps, and actions. He was still dangerous. Maybe not to her physically, — but she wasn’t willing to watch him take on those threats.
❝I’d like to see you try, —❞ her teeth were bared, she met his distance.
❝I might not be able to watch you always. Maybe not even stop you.
— But here’s the difference between me and you, Kol.
I’m not alone.❞
She was right and Kol hated it. There was nothing he could do. Ultimately, Bonnie was forced to suffer as much as him — but at least she wasn’t alone. “You could have done the right thing, brought back all these people who died at the hands of you and your friends. Don’t you see what your little games have brought to the world? The doppelganger alone is responsible for killing more than I have in all a thousand years.”
Maybe that was over-exaggeration, maybe not — him, Finn. That had to be at least hundreds of thousands of their kind considering his body-count regardless of his elder brothers lack of. “Don’t even get me started on Silas.”
The right thing? — Unleashing every Supernatural back— ? Including him. Too be honest, she wanted to. Not for them, not for him, not even if it brought back Gram’s. She wanted to do it for her, so she’d stay. ❝We can’t have the things we always want,❞ — she was more so responding to her own thoughts then just him. For a moment; she felt sorry for him. He’d been right, ‘bout raising Silas, the cure.
But that still didn’t change anything.
And he was right. But that didn’t change anything.
❝I can still handle Silas.❞ To an extent, — she could. Her magic & the witches could do what they can —. But even they can’t go far.
She wasn’t about to tell him that, though.
❝I’m not sorry for putting the veil back up.❞
A disturbed sort of grin appeared on his face. “Not even the witches can save you here, Bennett. You see, even in death I’m capable of making your every minute torture. You’ll soon be begging that you followed my demands.”
❝What’re you going to do? I mean, what can you do? Kill me?❞
She moved forward, closing in a brave distance. They’re dead. Both of them. ❝Whatever you have in mine isn’t going to change anything.
We’re dead. Face it.❞
