What Fools These Mortals Be…
Maybe someday...
I'll taste something new, feel something new. My memories are voids... something that falls short of bliss and far from remembrance.
Maybe someday...
I'll know what it's like to lay down one's life. Though immortal, we are the ones without speech. We are the ones without sight. We are the ones without taste, without touch, without... What we yearned for comes at a price.
Maybe someday...
I'll get a Kiss. One to end the pain, the sorrow, the life. We were once men, proud and powerful. We longed for the ultimate power- the one that would set us apart from men. But oh, what we unleashed can never be stopped. We forget everything with the passage of time, but each one of us knows this-our history and our creation. We care little now of the world of men. Salazar betrayed us, and for this we suffer. I led my people into their doom and destruction and they follow me still, patient as stone. I remember that I took the life of Salazar, like Judas the betrayer… with a Kiss.
We waited for a cure; none came. We planned and dreamed, but everything started with "Maybe someday." We decayed and rotted away. We hid ourselves in cloaks and watched the ages pass. We no longer told ourselves we were human. We were Dementors.
Ages passed, and man grew powerful, too powerful. We were watched, hunted, persecuted. We adapted, and became an army for a king. He too, felt the Kiss. We listened to the punisher, the one who sat on the great throne all those many years ago. He ordered us to obey him, and so we did. And we waited. We waited on a rock and fed off the screams of dying men and listened to their pleas. Those who cannot talk, listen.
Time passed some more; I remember holding the Punisher's face in my hands, feeling and breathing in my first time in centuries. I took his life too. I Kissed him. But he was not the one I was searching for, the one that would end my curse.
So we left. We wandered for centuries. Waiting, just waiting for our cures, our one true Kiss.
We followed the one who called himself Lord. He was not far away from joining our ranks. But none shall enter, none shall leave. He believed himself all powerful, but he shook when I took his face in my hands. He pleaded when I stroked his cheek. He thought he could command us, but we are not weak. He laughed in the face of Death. I am Death and my people are angels. Killer angels. Do not laugh, for we know what is to always come. I, Death, bow my head and sigh.
What fools these mortals be.