**Change of Heart**, chapter 1: the Taking
by Lilian.
lilian413@yahoo.com
AN: okay. Got *very* pissed off when I watched 'Black as Cole'. And decided to branch off a moment I thought could be exploited much further. Read and find out what I'm talking about.
A million and one thank U's to Barb, a wonderful friend who gives me the strengh to keep on writing, and gives me feedback when I need it.
I hope you all like this, and please review!.
Warning: completely un-betaed!!.
**********************
I never wanted this. I never have, and until I draw my last breath, I never will. Sometimes I think this is just some sort of freaky dream--- one that has taken me four long years to wake up from. Four years... almost half a decade of my life, lost.
Gone.
And I've changed. In more ways than one. I think I'm just a shadow of the woman I was back then. A ghost. A walking shell. Fours years spent in hell will do that to you.
And when I say hell, I mean it literally.
Prue is sleeping beside me now. I named her after the aunt she never met. Maybe some day she will, when she's old enough. But not now. Not when the pain is still too fresh and the wounds are still bleeding... I thank the Powers that she was unharmed during the battle.
My small Prudence--- so young and naive... I don't know how she managed to escape on her birthday, but I thank whoever was watching over her that she did. Even if I missed the first four years of her life. Somehow, she learnt how to shimmer even before she could talk.
She's got her father's intelligence. Which is good, because if she was even *half* the twit I turned out to be, she wouldn't have made it out of there. And my beautiful baby would've been twisted into a monster, and evil would've taken hold on her, and I would've never forgiven myself. I think no one knows about her--- I mean, I'm sure they realized I was pregnant even before *I* did, but they never knew what happened to her.
I think it was the demonic side of her that sensed danger. And even as a toddler, still nursing from my breasts, she escaped the prying eyes of the guards. Not that by the time she was born I had many guards around, but still...
I never knew where she went when she shimmered away. And only today has that information come to me. She went to her father. How she knew, escapes my understanding. But he has told me how one day, this baby popped out of nowhere, and landed on his lap. He never knew why she only calmed down when *he* held her.
Am I confusing you?. I'm sorry. My mind is a wreck these days. I don't think I've done anything but remember. Let me introduce myself:
I, am Phoebe Halliwell. Once upon a time, one of the Charmed Ones. I go by Phax these days. It's easier to kill when you don't have to listen to your own name being called.
Yes. I, Phax, am a loyal servant for the Source. Have been for the past four years, and will continue to do so until I die. But until that day comes, I have pledged my loyalty to him, and a vow is never broken. Not the one *I* took, anyway.
We're blood linked.
The Source was never a demon to be underestimated. I know that now. He threatened to kill my baby, if I ever attempted an escape, and that proved enough chain to keep me where I was. He knows I won't try to escape. And he also knew back then, that it was only a matter of time before he could use my powers for his own good.
He knew he could turn me.
I had taken away one of is most powerful servants, Belthazor. And he was going to make me pay for it. Bigtime.
By turning *me* into his newest assassin.
He christened me with the name Phax as he engraved his mark upon my flesh. I screamed, and trashed, and cried and begged--- it only earned me a sore throat and bleary mascara.
Even as I remember now the events from a distant past, I cringe. I absently trace the inverted triangle marked on my forearm, and scratch it, somehow trying to get rid of it. It's imbedded too deep. And it would do me no good.
It's only the physical manifestation that the Source owns me. Like one owns a toy.
It all started one day, four years ago.
The day Cole proposed to me.
**********************************
As I drove back to the mansion, my futile efforts to convince Emma of Cole's good intentions still fresh in my mind, I never noticed the strange aura that clung around the house. I swear, to be located on overlapping magical circles, it sure can't protect itself.
I mean demons come and go around the manor as if they owned the place.
Anyway, I opened the door, and threw my keys onto the near table. I didn't notice the silence, nor the darkness in the hall. I called out Cole's name, trying to find him in the apparently deserted house.
An air current brushing against my cheek told me someone had shimmered behind me. For a split second, I thought it could be him... what other demon could shimmer into the house at this time of the night?.
Okay, I suck at rhetorical questions. So sue me.
My assumption was soon proved wrong, as a strong body that was most certainly *not* Cole was pressed against my back, and the athame caressed my neck. I froze, and held my breath in surprise.
Sykes.
Should've known it. Should've reacted sooner.
It would've been great to have an active power back then. Premonitions and levitation did me no good. And I couldn't even throw him over my shoulder... his body was conveniently positioned to resist any of my attempts at kick boxing.
"What do you want?".
My voice trembled slightly, and I knew my bravado had not fooled him.
"The same thing you do. Except I call him Belthazor".
{You will never get him. I swear, I will protect him no matter what. He deserves a chance, damnit!}.
I tried to reach for the potion inside my bag, the power-stripping potion I fixed for Cole way back then... when Prue was still alive, and things were well, and I hadn't been proposed to by the man I love, and I hadn't seen the look of despair in his eyes when I said no...
I realized the bag had fallen from my trembling fingers, and laid between my feet, the potion in open view. It mocked me, with the red liquid inside the bottle swirling with inertia, like diluted blood.
"Except I don't need a potion to vanquish him".
His breath was hot and heavy against my ear, and I shivered in disgust.
"I just need you".
Before I could even call out for help, he had shimmered as out of the manor.
And as I would later learn, out of my life.
*****************************
We reappeared in the Underworld. I had been here before, and I knew the stench, the dark and the cold... but it was still a shock to my system.
I dropped down to the floor, limp and sapped of any strength. The evil down here was so strong, it drained me of my energy. Last time I had been running high on adrenaline and lust, and I had failed to notice the effects it had on me. But now... it was different.
It probably had a lot to do with the fact the Source himself was standing before me.
I had only seen him once before, through the enchanted lenses. Even then, he had scared the bejeezus out of me. And to see him now, in full physical form, less than a few feet away, was enough to draw all the air out of my lungs.
"A Charmed one. Interesting".
His voice is low and deep, and seems to reverberate through the entire room, echoing through the stone walls. The soft candles laying about are not enough to penetrate the darkness of his robes... and somehow, I know I should feel thankful for that. What lies behind the blackness of his hood is something not meant for the human eye.
Sykes towers over me, the athame still in his hand. He seems as surprised as I am to be here.
"What are you doing? Belthazor is probably looking for her!. I need to go back and kill him!".
It's probably the adrenaline, or whatever substance demons have for a substitute, that's making him speak up. Even *I* know when to shut up.
"You dare question my actions, Sykes?".
Rage flared through his eyes, and he takes a step forward.
"Like hell, I do!. You had no right to shimmer us here!. I was doing just---".
The Source smiles, although how do I know that through the hood covering his features, I'll never know.
"Then your services will no longer be needed".
He waves his hand about, almost as an afterthought, and I can feel the air around me drop ten degrees or so. And then Sykes explodes.
I cover my face with my arm, trying to shield it from the blazing heat coming from the demon torch in front of me--- a few ashes land on the exposed skin of my fingers, and I shriek.
And then we're alone.
And I begin to think that maybe Sykes wasn't such bad company after all.
"Rise, witch".
He addresses me with what could be called smugness. He knows I can't fight him. Not alone. And not here, when my powers are at their lowest. And he knows *I* know, which just bugs the hell out of me.
I struggle to stand up, the shock of the sudden shimmer still running through my system. Only Cole has ever managed to make shimmering a pleasant experience---
Oh my God!!. Cole!. Piper!. Paige!.
"Ahh, yes. You are afraid, are you not?".
My eyes snap up, and I try to glare at him. It doesn't work too well.
I remain silent, knowing the second I speak, he will hear the panic in my voice, and notice the trembling of my words.
"Good".
I stand there, wishing for a miracle to happen--- a miracle I know will *never* happen. There are no miracles in my life.
The Source approaches me, and I fight back the urge to cringe in fear. There's just something about him--- his aura, probably. It reeks of power and evil and knowledge and just--- *power*.
"You are strong, witch. Stronger than I thought. I see why Belthazor took a liking on you".
Something akin to anger bubbles up inside of me, as I realize I'm standing right in front of the man (scratch that, *creature*), who created Belthazor. And I hiss at him, more than speak, through my clenched teeth.
"Don't you dare say his name".
He smiles again, and a red skinned hand reaches out to me through the long sleeves of the robe. He grabs my chin firmly, and forces me to look deep inside the darkness of his hood.
"I dare, witch".
And for a split second, I *see* what's behind the cloak, and I scream.
Because it's Cole's handsome face the one that greets my wide eyes.
*************************
It only took me a minute or two to stop screaming. And a couple more to stop the twitching of my body. And all along, the deep, vicious laugh of the Source ringed in my ears.
"Amusing. *This* is one of the mighty Charmed ones?. How truly pathetic".
I fight back the bile rising in my throat, and realize he's just playing games with me. As he has done for God knows how many years.
When I can find the courage to look back at him, he's completely morphed into Cole. Cole... with his blue eyes, and strong chin and delicious body... he's gotten it right down to the last detail, including that little scar on the side of his chin.
"No...".
My voice is barely a whisper, but he hears it anyway. I think he might be listening to my thoughts too, for all I know.
"Oh yes. Isn't this what you wanted to see, Phoebe?. Didn't you want to see me?".
His voice, his lovely voice--- the who purrs my name like a caress and whispers sweet nothings to me when we lay awake in my bed after a session of intense love making...
"You're not him".
I try to look confident, try to bluff--- without any energy to even lift myself off the floor, how can I resist the torture?.
"Oh, but I am, darling. I am".
I look to the ground, to the soil... mother Earth, please give me strength. But even the earth is polluted in here. Dark, and stagnant; foul and empty...
"Phoebe".
He whispers my name, and he does it just right. He breathes it out, lets it roll on his tongue, and soothes me with it. And I can't help but be carried away into the fantasy.
"Cole...".
He reaches down to me, and cradles me into his arms. And I sink into them, weak, drained and lost. In his arms I have found peace, calm, serenity---
His lips seek mine, and I let him find me. And I kiss him, with everything I have, because maybe, just maybe, this is the real Cole, and I'm not in Hell, and we're together, and he's here, and everything's allright---
The foul taste of dank putridness invades my mouth, and I gag and spit, and recoil. The Source drops me unceremoniously onto the floor, a smirk of victory gracing his lips. At least he changed back. Maybe now I can get a hold of myself.
"As I said. Truly pathetic".
I keep the tears welling in my eyes inside, and force myself to stand up. I did *not* survive heaven and hell during my three years as a witch to die like a worm, squashed under the Source's shoe. At least, if I go down, I'll go down fighting. His impersonation of Cole has given me back some of my strengh... emotional strength at least.
I still feel as if I'm moving through water, in slow motion. My limbs are heavy and my mouth is dry. It hurts to even think.
"Let me go".
His laughter dies slowly, but the smugness and confidence remains.
"Why should I?".
I try to find an answer, but I can't. There's no logical reason onto why he should let me go... and cold sweat runs down my spine as I realize I might not make it this time.
"I'd rather keep you down here. You're such a lovely creature to look at".
I shiver at the finality in his voice. He knows I'm not going anywhere.
"In fact, I have a proposition for you".
Through the nausea and somewhat of vertigo, I listen to him, barely acknowledging his words.
"You're a powerful witch. Your powers are strong. If I kill you, some other witch will receive them, and I'll just have *another* nuisance to deal with. On the other hand, if you chose voluntarily to join us---".
My dry, harsh cackle seems to surprise him. Now that's different. He doesn't want to kill me. He wants to turn me!!. That's rich.
"You think I would *ever* join you?. Where have you been for the past twenty generations?. The Halliwells do *not* do evil. We fight it. You're evil. I'm not. See?. Do I need to spell it out to you?".
My mind is whirling, and I know I'm not making much sense. I think I'm loosing my grip on reality... I think I'm going crazy. Now where's the cool, level headed Phoebe when I need her?.
"True. But no Halliwell has ever bedded a demon before, either".
I freeze in middle yak. His words cut through my walls, through my defenses, and like lightning, bring them down with one strike.
"You have evil inside you, witch. Whether you wish to accept it or not. Why do you think the Woogie was able to posses you?. Or why did Dantalian's spell work better on you that it did on your sisters?".
Something Prue said comes back in a breath, like something said in a dream.
'they didn't just plant evil inside of me, or us for that matter. there had to be something there for them to turn, to begin with'
Oh my God!.
My mind goes blank, and I stare off into nothingness, things suddenly becoming crystal clear for me. I was attracted to Cole because the evil in me found a soul mate in him. I was attuned to the succubus because I was evil too. I was evil in my past life. What other sign could I possibly need to realize it's true?. I--- everything, everyone--- I was evil. I am evil.
"Now you see the truth, Phoebe?. Just give in. Come to us".
No. No. NO!!!. Cole warned me against the Source's mind games. He explained to me how he slowly ate through his victims confidence, destroying their ego, their reality... twisting everything they ever knew to be the truth.
I am *not* evil. I'm a good person. A good witch. I protect the innocents. I save the world every other day, while trying to keep a normal life on the weekends. I am Good!!.
"No. You'll have to kill me first".
The Source doesn't even blink. It's as if he was expecting me to refuse.
"Good. Resistance. I will enjoy breaking you, my sweet".
I shiver, and not from the cold.
"Then, if you won't do it for yourself, do it for the one you love the most".
I smile sadly.
"My sisters will protect Cole, and Cole will protect them".
And this time, the Source really *grins*. Wickedly. And an icy hand grabs hold of my heart, and squeezes it mercilessly.
"I'm not talking about Belthazor".
Who?. Who could possibly mean to me more than Cole and my sisters?.
"What the hell are you talking about?".
He walks past me, and I feel myself being dragged behind him. Telekinesis. Great. Just great.
But he remains quiet, and keeps on walking. And I think I'll go crazy if he doesn't tell me who it is. Because I can't, for the love of my life, think of anyone else.
"Who is it?".
He ignores me, and we walk (are dragged) through walls and walls, and corridors and hallways, and the air grows suffocating, and the dim candles fail to illuminate the far corners, and shadows dance around, trying to get me, and they brush my calves and I feel their icy grip, and I panic and I trash and I fight--- to no avail.
I spend most of my energy in trying to break free from his mind grasp... I can feel him around me, his mind trendils caressing my body, in ways that disgust me to no end. And I scream, and cry out, and call for help, in a place that has known no mercy for the past millennia and even more millennia to come.
{Cole, help me!}.
"Who IS IT?!!".
I cry out, feeling my energies leaving me, and I'm falling, falling, falling... into the darkness, into nothingness, into the abyss...
my voice barely reaches out, and for a second I think he didn't hear me, and I cry, and sob, and my heart weeps for Cole, for Piper, for Paige---
"your daughter".
His words are the last ones I hear for a very, very long time.
**************************
Tbc....
by Lilian.
lilian413@yahoo.com
AN: okay. Got *very* pissed off when I watched 'Black as Cole'. And decided to branch off a moment I thought could be exploited much further. Read and find out what I'm talking about.
A million and one thank U's to Barb, a wonderful friend who gives me the strengh to keep on writing, and gives me feedback when I need it.
I hope you all like this, and please review!.
Warning: completely un-betaed!!.
**********************
I never wanted this. I never have, and until I draw my last breath, I never will. Sometimes I think this is just some sort of freaky dream--- one that has taken me four long years to wake up from. Four years... almost half a decade of my life, lost.
Gone.
And I've changed. In more ways than one. I think I'm just a shadow of the woman I was back then. A ghost. A walking shell. Fours years spent in hell will do that to you.
And when I say hell, I mean it literally.
Prue is sleeping beside me now. I named her after the aunt she never met. Maybe some day she will, when she's old enough. But not now. Not when the pain is still too fresh and the wounds are still bleeding... I thank the Powers that she was unharmed during the battle.
My small Prudence--- so young and naive... I don't know how she managed to escape on her birthday, but I thank whoever was watching over her that she did. Even if I missed the first four years of her life. Somehow, she learnt how to shimmer even before she could talk.
She's got her father's intelligence. Which is good, because if she was even *half* the twit I turned out to be, she wouldn't have made it out of there. And my beautiful baby would've been twisted into a monster, and evil would've taken hold on her, and I would've never forgiven myself. I think no one knows about her--- I mean, I'm sure they realized I was pregnant even before *I* did, but they never knew what happened to her.
I think it was the demonic side of her that sensed danger. And even as a toddler, still nursing from my breasts, she escaped the prying eyes of the guards. Not that by the time she was born I had many guards around, but still...
I never knew where she went when she shimmered away. And only today has that information come to me. She went to her father. How she knew, escapes my understanding. But he has told me how one day, this baby popped out of nowhere, and landed on his lap. He never knew why she only calmed down when *he* held her.
Am I confusing you?. I'm sorry. My mind is a wreck these days. I don't think I've done anything but remember. Let me introduce myself:
I, am Phoebe Halliwell. Once upon a time, one of the Charmed Ones. I go by Phax these days. It's easier to kill when you don't have to listen to your own name being called.
Yes. I, Phax, am a loyal servant for the Source. Have been for the past four years, and will continue to do so until I die. But until that day comes, I have pledged my loyalty to him, and a vow is never broken. Not the one *I* took, anyway.
We're blood linked.
The Source was never a demon to be underestimated. I know that now. He threatened to kill my baby, if I ever attempted an escape, and that proved enough chain to keep me where I was. He knows I won't try to escape. And he also knew back then, that it was only a matter of time before he could use my powers for his own good.
He knew he could turn me.
I had taken away one of is most powerful servants, Belthazor. And he was going to make me pay for it. Bigtime.
By turning *me* into his newest assassin.
He christened me with the name Phax as he engraved his mark upon my flesh. I screamed, and trashed, and cried and begged--- it only earned me a sore throat and bleary mascara.
Even as I remember now the events from a distant past, I cringe. I absently trace the inverted triangle marked on my forearm, and scratch it, somehow trying to get rid of it. It's imbedded too deep. And it would do me no good.
It's only the physical manifestation that the Source owns me. Like one owns a toy.
It all started one day, four years ago.
The day Cole proposed to me.
**********************************
As I drove back to the mansion, my futile efforts to convince Emma of Cole's good intentions still fresh in my mind, I never noticed the strange aura that clung around the house. I swear, to be located on overlapping magical circles, it sure can't protect itself.
I mean demons come and go around the manor as if they owned the place.
Anyway, I opened the door, and threw my keys onto the near table. I didn't notice the silence, nor the darkness in the hall. I called out Cole's name, trying to find him in the apparently deserted house.
An air current brushing against my cheek told me someone had shimmered behind me. For a split second, I thought it could be him... what other demon could shimmer into the house at this time of the night?.
Okay, I suck at rhetorical questions. So sue me.
My assumption was soon proved wrong, as a strong body that was most certainly *not* Cole was pressed against my back, and the athame caressed my neck. I froze, and held my breath in surprise.
Sykes.
Should've known it. Should've reacted sooner.
It would've been great to have an active power back then. Premonitions and levitation did me no good. And I couldn't even throw him over my shoulder... his body was conveniently positioned to resist any of my attempts at kick boxing.
"What do you want?".
My voice trembled slightly, and I knew my bravado had not fooled him.
"The same thing you do. Except I call him Belthazor".
{You will never get him. I swear, I will protect him no matter what. He deserves a chance, damnit!}.
I tried to reach for the potion inside my bag, the power-stripping potion I fixed for Cole way back then... when Prue was still alive, and things were well, and I hadn't been proposed to by the man I love, and I hadn't seen the look of despair in his eyes when I said no...
I realized the bag had fallen from my trembling fingers, and laid between my feet, the potion in open view. It mocked me, with the red liquid inside the bottle swirling with inertia, like diluted blood.
"Except I don't need a potion to vanquish him".
His breath was hot and heavy against my ear, and I shivered in disgust.
"I just need you".
Before I could even call out for help, he had shimmered as out of the manor.
And as I would later learn, out of my life.
*****************************
We reappeared in the Underworld. I had been here before, and I knew the stench, the dark and the cold... but it was still a shock to my system.
I dropped down to the floor, limp and sapped of any strength. The evil down here was so strong, it drained me of my energy. Last time I had been running high on adrenaline and lust, and I had failed to notice the effects it had on me. But now... it was different.
It probably had a lot to do with the fact the Source himself was standing before me.
I had only seen him once before, through the enchanted lenses. Even then, he had scared the bejeezus out of me. And to see him now, in full physical form, less than a few feet away, was enough to draw all the air out of my lungs.
"A Charmed one. Interesting".
His voice is low and deep, and seems to reverberate through the entire room, echoing through the stone walls. The soft candles laying about are not enough to penetrate the darkness of his robes... and somehow, I know I should feel thankful for that. What lies behind the blackness of his hood is something not meant for the human eye.
Sykes towers over me, the athame still in his hand. He seems as surprised as I am to be here.
"What are you doing? Belthazor is probably looking for her!. I need to go back and kill him!".
It's probably the adrenaline, or whatever substance demons have for a substitute, that's making him speak up. Even *I* know when to shut up.
"You dare question my actions, Sykes?".
Rage flared through his eyes, and he takes a step forward.
"Like hell, I do!. You had no right to shimmer us here!. I was doing just---".
The Source smiles, although how do I know that through the hood covering his features, I'll never know.
"Then your services will no longer be needed".
He waves his hand about, almost as an afterthought, and I can feel the air around me drop ten degrees or so. And then Sykes explodes.
I cover my face with my arm, trying to shield it from the blazing heat coming from the demon torch in front of me--- a few ashes land on the exposed skin of my fingers, and I shriek.
And then we're alone.
And I begin to think that maybe Sykes wasn't such bad company after all.
"Rise, witch".
He addresses me with what could be called smugness. He knows I can't fight him. Not alone. And not here, when my powers are at their lowest. And he knows *I* know, which just bugs the hell out of me.
I struggle to stand up, the shock of the sudden shimmer still running through my system. Only Cole has ever managed to make shimmering a pleasant experience---
Oh my God!!. Cole!. Piper!. Paige!.
"Ahh, yes. You are afraid, are you not?".
My eyes snap up, and I try to glare at him. It doesn't work too well.
I remain silent, knowing the second I speak, he will hear the panic in my voice, and notice the trembling of my words.
"Good".
I stand there, wishing for a miracle to happen--- a miracle I know will *never* happen. There are no miracles in my life.
The Source approaches me, and I fight back the urge to cringe in fear. There's just something about him--- his aura, probably. It reeks of power and evil and knowledge and just--- *power*.
"You are strong, witch. Stronger than I thought. I see why Belthazor took a liking on you".
Something akin to anger bubbles up inside of me, as I realize I'm standing right in front of the man (scratch that, *creature*), who created Belthazor. And I hiss at him, more than speak, through my clenched teeth.
"Don't you dare say his name".
He smiles again, and a red skinned hand reaches out to me through the long sleeves of the robe. He grabs my chin firmly, and forces me to look deep inside the darkness of his hood.
"I dare, witch".
And for a split second, I *see* what's behind the cloak, and I scream.
Because it's Cole's handsome face the one that greets my wide eyes.
*************************
It only took me a minute or two to stop screaming. And a couple more to stop the twitching of my body. And all along, the deep, vicious laugh of the Source ringed in my ears.
"Amusing. *This* is one of the mighty Charmed ones?. How truly pathetic".
I fight back the bile rising in my throat, and realize he's just playing games with me. As he has done for God knows how many years.
When I can find the courage to look back at him, he's completely morphed into Cole. Cole... with his blue eyes, and strong chin and delicious body... he's gotten it right down to the last detail, including that little scar on the side of his chin.
"No...".
My voice is barely a whisper, but he hears it anyway. I think he might be listening to my thoughts too, for all I know.
"Oh yes. Isn't this what you wanted to see, Phoebe?. Didn't you want to see me?".
His voice, his lovely voice--- the who purrs my name like a caress and whispers sweet nothings to me when we lay awake in my bed after a session of intense love making...
"You're not him".
I try to look confident, try to bluff--- without any energy to even lift myself off the floor, how can I resist the torture?.
"Oh, but I am, darling. I am".
I look to the ground, to the soil... mother Earth, please give me strength. But even the earth is polluted in here. Dark, and stagnant; foul and empty...
"Phoebe".
He whispers my name, and he does it just right. He breathes it out, lets it roll on his tongue, and soothes me with it. And I can't help but be carried away into the fantasy.
"Cole...".
He reaches down to me, and cradles me into his arms. And I sink into them, weak, drained and lost. In his arms I have found peace, calm, serenity---
His lips seek mine, and I let him find me. And I kiss him, with everything I have, because maybe, just maybe, this is the real Cole, and I'm not in Hell, and we're together, and he's here, and everything's allright---
The foul taste of dank putridness invades my mouth, and I gag and spit, and recoil. The Source drops me unceremoniously onto the floor, a smirk of victory gracing his lips. At least he changed back. Maybe now I can get a hold of myself.
"As I said. Truly pathetic".
I keep the tears welling in my eyes inside, and force myself to stand up. I did *not* survive heaven and hell during my three years as a witch to die like a worm, squashed under the Source's shoe. At least, if I go down, I'll go down fighting. His impersonation of Cole has given me back some of my strengh... emotional strength at least.
I still feel as if I'm moving through water, in slow motion. My limbs are heavy and my mouth is dry. It hurts to even think.
"Let me go".
His laughter dies slowly, but the smugness and confidence remains.
"Why should I?".
I try to find an answer, but I can't. There's no logical reason onto why he should let me go... and cold sweat runs down my spine as I realize I might not make it this time.
"I'd rather keep you down here. You're such a lovely creature to look at".
I shiver at the finality in his voice. He knows I'm not going anywhere.
"In fact, I have a proposition for you".
Through the nausea and somewhat of vertigo, I listen to him, barely acknowledging his words.
"You're a powerful witch. Your powers are strong. If I kill you, some other witch will receive them, and I'll just have *another* nuisance to deal with. On the other hand, if you chose voluntarily to join us---".
My dry, harsh cackle seems to surprise him. Now that's different. He doesn't want to kill me. He wants to turn me!!. That's rich.
"You think I would *ever* join you?. Where have you been for the past twenty generations?. The Halliwells do *not* do evil. We fight it. You're evil. I'm not. See?. Do I need to spell it out to you?".
My mind is whirling, and I know I'm not making much sense. I think I'm loosing my grip on reality... I think I'm going crazy. Now where's the cool, level headed Phoebe when I need her?.
"True. But no Halliwell has ever bedded a demon before, either".
I freeze in middle yak. His words cut through my walls, through my defenses, and like lightning, bring them down with one strike.
"You have evil inside you, witch. Whether you wish to accept it or not. Why do you think the Woogie was able to posses you?. Or why did Dantalian's spell work better on you that it did on your sisters?".
Something Prue said comes back in a breath, like something said in a dream.
'they didn't just plant evil inside of me, or us for that matter. there had to be something there for them to turn, to begin with'
Oh my God!.
My mind goes blank, and I stare off into nothingness, things suddenly becoming crystal clear for me. I was attracted to Cole because the evil in me found a soul mate in him. I was attuned to the succubus because I was evil too. I was evil in my past life. What other sign could I possibly need to realize it's true?. I--- everything, everyone--- I was evil. I am evil.
"Now you see the truth, Phoebe?. Just give in. Come to us".
No. No. NO!!!. Cole warned me against the Source's mind games. He explained to me how he slowly ate through his victims confidence, destroying their ego, their reality... twisting everything they ever knew to be the truth.
I am *not* evil. I'm a good person. A good witch. I protect the innocents. I save the world every other day, while trying to keep a normal life on the weekends. I am Good!!.
"No. You'll have to kill me first".
The Source doesn't even blink. It's as if he was expecting me to refuse.
"Good. Resistance. I will enjoy breaking you, my sweet".
I shiver, and not from the cold.
"Then, if you won't do it for yourself, do it for the one you love the most".
I smile sadly.
"My sisters will protect Cole, and Cole will protect them".
And this time, the Source really *grins*. Wickedly. And an icy hand grabs hold of my heart, and squeezes it mercilessly.
"I'm not talking about Belthazor".
Who?. Who could possibly mean to me more than Cole and my sisters?.
"What the hell are you talking about?".
He walks past me, and I feel myself being dragged behind him. Telekinesis. Great. Just great.
But he remains quiet, and keeps on walking. And I think I'll go crazy if he doesn't tell me who it is. Because I can't, for the love of my life, think of anyone else.
"Who is it?".
He ignores me, and we walk (are dragged) through walls and walls, and corridors and hallways, and the air grows suffocating, and the dim candles fail to illuminate the far corners, and shadows dance around, trying to get me, and they brush my calves and I feel their icy grip, and I panic and I trash and I fight--- to no avail.
I spend most of my energy in trying to break free from his mind grasp... I can feel him around me, his mind trendils caressing my body, in ways that disgust me to no end. And I scream, and cry out, and call for help, in a place that has known no mercy for the past millennia and even more millennia to come.
{Cole, help me!}.
"Who IS IT?!!".
I cry out, feeling my energies leaving me, and I'm falling, falling, falling... into the darkness, into nothingness, into the abyss...
my voice barely reaches out, and for a second I think he didn't hear me, and I cry, and sob, and my heart weeps for Cole, for Piper, for Paige---
"your daughter".
His words are the last ones I hear for a very, very long time.
**************************
Tbc....