Salem

Previously on "Salem"...

(gasping) Calm yourself.

You're still reeling from the loss of your powers.

In time, you will once again get used to being a mere creature.

You ever think you knew a man

and come to find out you didn't know what he was at all?

Real witches walked free and still do.

If only I could get one,

and I know which one I want -- Mercy.

We can become anything.

We might even fashion ourselves into the rulers of Salem.

You think John Alden is the man who stands between you and I?

If not Alden, who then? My son.

I will have things as I wish them, or all will pay.

Just one little step,

and wipe all the horrors from your heart.

I do have a choice, unlike you.

I'm no puppet. I am free!

You just found somebody else to pull your strings.

So, your Cotton will not make it to Boston, will he?

Your love still sleeps.

A child?

If you abandon Salem now,

you will never see that baby alive.

They are winning.

Well, they picked the wrong witch

and the wrong woman.

Hell have no fury like this woman scorned.

Who is this legendary John Alden?

I am.

(indistinct shouting, whooping)

They just keep getting back up.

¶¶

Stay dead!

How do you kill something that's already dead?

(screams)

No.

No, no.

I got you.

No.

¶ Pound me the witch drums ¶

¶ Witch drums ¶

¶ Pound me the witch drums ¶

¶ Pound me the witch drums ¶

¶ The witch drums ¶

¶ Better pray for hell ¶

¶ Not hallelujah ¶

(screams)

Please stop!

You enjoy human suffering.

The cry of animals merely depresses me.

People are not animals but puppets -- dolls, toys.

And toys are meant to be played with.

I do believe a few more strokes

and your toy will be dead.

She deserves it.

But the innocent life inside her womb does not!

She is with child.

And it signed no contract with you.

Slit his throat and be done with it.

You promised great reward

to the one who delivers me to you.

Well, I have delivered myself and so claim the reward.

Release him.

And what do you want?

I want her.

Safe and sound.

How dull and selfless.

But so be it.

And I thank you.

Not least for proving I was right to choose you.

For what?

To be my Moses.

¶¶

What are you doing here? Is it John?

'Tis not John Alden I'm worried about.

It's you.

This is madness.

They will sense you here and kill us both.

Well, they shall have to be satisfied

with killing just you.

I, of course, am not really here.

Yes, you always were willing

to risk my life for your own cause.

No, sister.

This time, I risk everything to warn you.

Warn me?

I've died, been torn from my grave,

had my powers ripped from me as if they were my soul's spine,

and yet I am still here.

What could possibly have to warn me of?

You have come back from your Reckoning

stronger than they know.

But you should never have returned back to the Essex tree.

They sought to rescue me,

but I told them I didn't need rescuing,

though I swear my enemies will.

Then perhaps that's not why they brought you out.

You doubt them?

When you begged them to join you

in your war against the Countess Marburg,

what did they say?

They refused. Sought only their own survival.

But if you distrust them,

why go to them to resurrect me?

We needed their powers, the powers of the Essex roots,

to bring you back.

Do you think we've already been betrayed?

Do you?

One thing has nagged at me.

When I returned, my son did not seem surprised, as if...

As if he knew you were coming.

Yes.

You are in greater danger than we could've known.

If you would survive, trust no one.

You examine the Essex.

Leave me to make my first move.

Which is?

Why, to trust no one, of course.

¶¶

They said you are to return to the mansion right away,

to stay there without me.

Devil wants me to be his biographer.

To recount his glorious failed rebellion

against the tyrant God.

It is a cosmic joke.

But I am grateful that he has spared you.

Almost as grateful as I am that you spared me.

Why did you?

You were free.

And you cannot possibly still love me.

You carry my child.

How can you know such a thing?

I had a vision.

A vision?

¶¶

The curtains of time parted.

For a moment, I saw...

our child to come.

I know it in my heart, in my bones --

I am to be a father.

And, boy or girl,

we will call you Hope.

And I will prove that I deserve your faith

and our Hope

through my charity,

for all the good I will do for the souls of Salem.

She's still not back.

¶¶

Time to go back to where you belong.

Go back, go back. Go.

Over this road shall be your nest.

And I promise you shall never again have to sleep

without a meal in your stomach

or a warm fire in the hearth.

¶¶

Dispatch her!

No, no!

Angel slew angel

as we fought our way up Mount Zaphon.

As my troops and I crested the ridge,

we saw the face of God, our Father,

for once shining no light, but darkness visible.

I couldn't tell if he was laughing or crying or both.

Some Moses you'll make. You've not written a thing down.

You have seen the very face of God.

And His ass.

It wasn't always easy to tell them apart.

Blasphemy.

Truth is blasphemy.

All power corrupts.

And God's divine power is no exception.

Our rebellion against Him was entirely just.

Just or unjust, your rebellion failed.

Yes, we failed.

And we fell to a place so far from the light

that we forgot what light, and life, even was.

- We call it Hell. - We called it Home.

Am I really to take this all down --

yours and the Devil's account?

You're a scrivener, no?

I have sold more books than any man in the land.

Then keep scribbling.

¶¶