Disclaimer: Salem and all its characters are property of WGN America and their respective owners. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any previously copyrighted material. No copyright infringement is intended.
Cotton
Written by Aindrea
The black liquid flows with ease, forming words as Reverend Mather slides the pen over the yellowish page of his secret book.
The signature of his essence.
His strong hand gracefully presses the nib just enough for the ink to leave its dark trace imprinted on the still empty pages, filling them with the ideas he faintly grasps from the overwhelming storm of thoughts in his head.
Preach.
Preach from the bottom of your passionate heart. Preach to the Puritans. Preach until your soul can no longer doubt any of the words your mouth speaks and your body and mind are exhausted from the vehemence of it.
Preach to achieve the harmony of oneness.
Cotton takes a deep breath, holding the air in his lungs for as long as he can. Until his body demands more freshness.
A heavy, melancholic sigh.
The enlightening truth within you shall reach the most hidden corners in this unexplored, exotic world.
You are meant to fight this arduous battle, to win the ultimate war.
"How?" the quiet word on his dry lips. His fearful gaze slowly seeking for the ray of sunlight that brightly floods into the room.
"There is always hope." a promising attempt to assure his troubled mind.
He swallows hard, looking down again.
Fear not the unfamiliar, but do work to conquer the impurity everywhere you go. The New World is a promised land, though it is up to your unalterable patience and your dedication to make it a tangible reality for everyone.
The confused man smiles with false confidence as the paper faithfully reflects exactly what he needs to read. It somehow soothes his soul.
Preach to the point where you have guided innocent souls to the right path. The path of light. The path of truth, mercy, love, and salvation.
Not until then you will have borrowed a moment of relief, although not rejoice.
"Rejoice," he stresses the word, slurring as if drunk. His fingertips carefully hover above the wet letters. "Um, rejoice will only come..."
Rejoice will only come when you have exiled the Devil along with its dark forces and the messengers from Hell, away from all known boundaries.
Reverend Mather frowns and growls at the awareness.
"Black magic. Witches." his own barely audible voice burning his throat. He closes his left hand into a tight fist, his expression now somber and strangely determined.
That glorious day will be the day for Salem to start a new chapter of its own history. When people will be able to look up with the purest smile on their faces, thankful for the new opportunity and for have been freed from the evil.
Increase Mather's words of steel resonating from the back of his mind.
Increase, his almighty father.
Cotton helplessly fights the suffocating pressure in his chest. Tears sting his fierce eyes.
"A real, noble preacher," he nods eagerly, trying hard to convince himself. "My mission..."
This one is your mission in life.
"...in Salem."
That is why you were sent to Salem.
Hi! :)
Thank you for reading! I hope you enjoy this story from Cotton's viewpoint.
Please feel free to leave a comment.
Aindrea