I promised you lot a Halloween story… I never promised you a good Halloween story. So I’m sorry for how crappy this is -_- Anyway, it’s sort of an alternate to last year’s “The Spider and her Flies,” but you don’t need to read that to get this. Happy Halloween, everybody!!
She sits alone atop the throne she wishes were hers, looking out over the kingdom she could have owned. It was their fault, all their fault. It was their fault her crown was one of thorns, their fault her palace was built from rubble, and her only servants were her own thoughts. The world and everything in it, every thing and every life, could have been hers, if it wasn’t for those two damned “heroes” constantly dashing her hopes. But a hero is only a hero if they believe they are. Who is to say that she, herself, is not the hero? They’re frauds, that’s all they are. They’re miserable fakes who crushed her every dream. And she would sooner be dead than call them the good guys.
And because she deserves to, she raises her head to the sky, turns her face to the sun that somehow still survives through this misery, and makes a promise. She promises herself that her day will come. That the sun above will one day shine down on her reign, and that those little rats will be destroyed by her hand. And in this moment, it seems as though the clouds open up, sending a ray of light down onto her, and promising her back that one day, no matter how long it will take, all of this will belong to her. And her resolve, with that light, turns to steel. Her fists pound the arms of her throne, and she smiles for the first time since her latest defeat. The sun will set for the ones who stand in her way, and now she knows it, a fire drives her to see their end.
Well, I’ve got a fever
I’m in a state of grace
For I am the Caesar
I’m gonna seize the day
And as the seasons pass, she waits, her patience renewed and redoubled by this heavenly promise, building and shaping her plan carefully. This time, there will be no flaws. This time, she will take her time, and they’ll never see it coming. They will fall, and her throne will at last sit where it belongs. They will learn who she is, and they will realize that she has been the hero all along. And they will follow her to the ends of the earth unquestioningly, and she will have what she has always deserved. At night, she dreams of the blood of her enemies on her hands, of their screams of pain and defeat as they finally surrender. And she wakes amid wild shrieks of laughter.
Well, call of the banshee- hey, hey!
Hey, hey, hey, hey, hey
As God as my witness
The infidels are gonna pay
And one day, finally, she happens upon her chance. And with the plan she has built, and nurtured and perfected, she pounces. She strikes, and she watches in awe as they fall, as they are overpowered by her at last, and as the last traces of life leave them, she smiles. She is in a state of numb euphoria, feeling as if in a dream, as she realizes that finally, once and for all, she has come out on top.
Vendetta, sweet vendetta
This Beretta of the night
This fire and the desire
Shots ringing out on a holy parasite
Her rule is total and iron, quick to take over and soon to be solid. But even as she rules from atop her self-built mountain, she is beginning to fall. And just as quickly as it came, her queenship is overthrown. She is cast to the ground again, and with her fall comes the fall of a beautiful and cunning mind. For as she falls for the final time, a fatal blow strikes her, and she is gone with a cold and bitter wind. She has died a hero to herself, and a tyrant to the world, but she has died after them. She has died after the quasi heroes, and for this, she is glad. For this, she dies that much happier than she would have. The vow from so long ago was fulfilled, and despite the consequences, she has won.
Well now the caretaker’s the undertaker
This is the neo St. Valentines Massacre
Well call of the godsend- hey, hey!
Hey, hey, hey, hey, hey
Death to the ones at the end of the serenade…