Categories > Original > Fantasy > The Ballad of Saymon
The Ballad of Saymon
0 reviewsSaymon is the last character you will meet in this. This is the story of his mother, his fathers, and the events that lead up to his birth.
0Unrated
Alright, alright, alright. This is my story and I hope you all are gonna be cool with that fact. I'm gonna warn you now so you don't come crying to me later: this story contains scenes of violence against women (I would like to be the first to point out that I myself am female and mean no ill with these, they're just part of a story), sex, ideas cooked up by the morbid imagination of your truly (And I don't mean stupid little emo things, I mean bad stuff, like really bad stuff) and slavery. Also, the two key characters are demons. Not real, Revelations-type demons, my own idea of what demons are like. So, if any or all of these things trouble you, take your leave now. As per the rest of you, enjoy.
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She imagined it would be dark. Not much more than that in the way of scenery. Just… void.
And him, of course.
She knew she had been thinking about this for too long, that she should stop and let the pieces fall where they may but…
She needed this. This thought of what it would be like. She made him cruel, made him wordless, made him stronger than perhaps he was. All these things she used to create a vision of him. A vision that helped to restore that feeling she’d had for so long, that old friend that had left her completely in the space of a month. Helplessness.
She was not sure of her sanity, because of her longing for this feeling. ‘Any sane person,’ she’d tell herself, ‘demon or human, would never want to be helpless. You must be going crazy.’
How sorry she was, this tragic little femme, that she didn’t see the root of her longing. It was not insanity, quite the opposite. It was her need for stability that made her wish for helplessness. If she could feel real fear again, it would return some familiarity to her. It would preserve her a bit longer.
But he did see it. And, for all his philanthropic philosophies, he refused to feed into her fantasies. Perhaps this is what preserved them both, his stubbornness. Without it, she may not have survived as her world turned upside-down. Without it, he may not have resisted the urges he felt to kill her boy-love.
But I digress. I am too vague. Let me start from the beginning, and not from the end.
For your benefit, let us begin anew:
*
It was a cold day in the underground market; colder than any she could remember.
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She imagined it would be dark. Not much more than that in the way of scenery. Just… void.
And him, of course.
She knew she had been thinking about this for too long, that she should stop and let the pieces fall where they may but…
She needed this. This thought of what it would be like. She made him cruel, made him wordless, made him stronger than perhaps he was. All these things she used to create a vision of him. A vision that helped to restore that feeling she’d had for so long, that old friend that had left her completely in the space of a month. Helplessness.
She was not sure of her sanity, because of her longing for this feeling. ‘Any sane person,’ she’d tell herself, ‘demon or human, would never want to be helpless. You must be going crazy.’
How sorry she was, this tragic little femme, that she didn’t see the root of her longing. It was not insanity, quite the opposite. It was her need for stability that made her wish for helplessness. If she could feel real fear again, it would return some familiarity to her. It would preserve her a bit longer.
But he did see it. And, for all his philanthropic philosophies, he refused to feed into her fantasies. Perhaps this is what preserved them both, his stubbornness. Without it, she may not have survived as her world turned upside-down. Without it, he may not have resisted the urges he felt to kill her boy-love.
But I digress. I am too vague. Let me start from the beginning, and not from the end.
For your benefit, let us begin anew:
*
It was a cold day in the underground market; colder than any she could remember.
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