[Dream]

Nov. 7th, 2005 12:09 pm
demonbelthazor: (Default)
[personal profile] demonbelthazor
Lying restrained and sedated in the clinic, Belthazor dreamed.


"And it shows me how much you have yet to learn, whelp. Go home, go home to your piece of human meat and stop desecrating the proud heritage of the demons. Get away from me...halfbreed."

Crowley's words haunted Belthazor. Halfbreed. He'd been called that all his life, a tool used to hurt and taunt. He was ashamed of his human blood. They said it made him weak. He would prove them wrong. Rage burned within him at the though of their mockery and scorn. He would prove he was true demon. He would kill any witch that crossed his path. He would hunt them and bring their hearts to the Source. No witch would escape his wrath.

He saw Professor Cregg first. Not a witch. Unimportant. He shoved her out of his way and continued on. A witch was near, he sensed it. Tara. He found her, cowering under a tree, babbling in fear. "I'll be good," she whimpered as he pulled her to her feet. He took her face in his hands and saw hope in her eyes, hope that he would spare her.

Instead he twisted her head around, snapping her neck and leaving her dead body under the tree.


"I don't have to touch her, pet. Not at all. I don't even have to talk to her. I can destroy her a million ways and never even meet her. Would you like an example? Paige for one...and there's another. A smart one. Quiet. I wonder how Phoebe would feel if she were suddenly missing her heart in the town square, and the blood was still wet under your nails. You will be her undoing Belthazor. Mark. My. Words."

He saw Piper and Lindsey ahead of him, walking through the park hand in hand. Witch. Charmed One. She had to die. Now, before her power grew, before she became a threat to the Source.

Piper sensed someone following them and glanced over her shoulder. She said something to Lindsey, and they both turned around. Lindsey opened his mouth to say something, but before the words came out, Belthazor threw a ball of fire at him, incinerating him. Piper shrieked and ran.

The chase excited him. He let her run, then shimmered in front of her. She screamed again, changing direction. Again he shimmered in front of her, toying with her before the kill.

She ran into the town square. "Somebody help me!" she cried, but no one came to help her. No one could stop him anyway.

Tiring of the game, he shimmered in front of her, grabbing her before she could get away. "Please," she wept, trembling in his grasp. Her tears did nothing to move him. He summoned an athame to his hand, yanked on her hair to jerk her head back, and slid it across her throat.

When he dropped her lifeless body to the ground, he knelt beside her. He wanted the trophy to bring to the Source. Slicing into her chest with the athame, he reached into her body and pulled out her heart.

"Cole?"

He spun around. Phoebe stood a few feet away, her face pale, her eyes disbelieving. He looked down at the bloody hands that held Piper's heart and the athame, then looked back to her. "Phoebe...." he whispered, taking a step toward her.

"You...you killed her," Phoebe said, eyes wide in fear. "How could you do that? Why, Cole, why?"

He took another step. She turned and fled from him.


"Well it is a pity, isn't it? You're going to kill her, and her blood on your hands will be sweet to taste for the rest of your existance. You're a demon Belthazor...I know what that means more than most. You'll love her, certainly, and you'll deny your nature for as long as you can. But eventually you'll slaughter her, begining with her family and ending with her flesh, and there isn't anything you can do to change that fact."

He chased her, the rage and need to kill taking hold again. She was just a witch. A Charmed One, but just a witch. He would kill her just like the rest.

He didn't play this time. He shimmered in front of her, seizing her shoulders and stopping her short. "Cole, please, don't," she begged.

Spinning her around, he held her captive with one arm around her throat. "Die, witch," he hissed, and stabbed the athame, still red with Piper's blood, into Phoebe's heart.

Her last word was a whisper of his name as she crumbled to the ground. As he stood over her body, the rage finally left him. Instead he felt pleasure as he tasted the blood that stained his hands. He was a demon. A killer. And he would continue to prove he was the Source's finest assassin.

Date: 2005-11-07 05:51 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] valentine-tart.livejournal.com
*kills you ten kinds of dead with plasma rifle. And when you finally reincorporate, demands you make her a demonness*

Date: 2005-11-07 06:10 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] valentine-tart.livejournal.com
*growls*

Could always ask Angelus to make me a vampiress instead. Also deals with that whole pesky soul thing. Then you can both teach me to kill. Yay!

Date: 2005-11-08 10:42 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] flash-serpent.livejournal.com
You're welcome.

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