As the Haliwell sisters reached for the Book of Shadows the pages fluttered, as if in a strong wind. Apprehensively Prue reached for the page to read. Piper grabbed her shoulder and Phoebe huddled up behind them. Prue began to read, her voice wavering with each word. "Sister, sisters, the power of three, One has been found that is stronger than thee, dark this man is; shadowed by pain, allied he is with Aramane." Piper closed the book with a snap sending dust cascading down onto the three witches. "Well ladies, we are well and truly, royally screwed!" Phoebe exclaimed with her usual subtly
Just then, the wall behind them exploded. The sisters dove for cover as one with Piper freezing the explosion and Prue projecting into it to discover which daemon wanted them this time. A solid hand stopped her projection before it got and further than the debris cloud. "That was a mistake.' A voice hissed in her ear. Phoebe appeared behind him, having levitated over during the chaos. She snapped out a roundhouse kick at the unseen attacker. She found her foot caught by what felt like a solid metal vice.
The assailant sent both sisters flying back across the room and into their previously positions. Phoebe slammed against a wall and Prue returned to her body with the usual gasp and shudder. Phoebe rose to her feet, shakily, with blood running down her forehead. She clenched her fist and lunged back into the still frozen debris cloud only to come sailing back out to land on Piper, thereby unfreezing the wooden detritus and sending it cascading over the attic.
While her sisters attempted to extricate themselves from each other Prue tried to throw the several wooden beams lying on the floor at the man that stood before her. Then she stopped herself. There he stood; his black trench coat riddled with holes and his shirt was torn and shredded. Black blood ran freely down his face and body dripping down into sticky pools in the floor. Piper finally fought her way free of Phoebe's tangled limbs and to her feet. She gasped and instinctively tried to freeze him, as expected it didn't work so she picked up a vase and hurled it at him.
With his typical preternatural speed the man sidestepped the missile and returned the favor. A long barreled black gun flashed into his hand, discharging one round. To Prue it seemed to happen in slow motion, Piper jerked back, a small round hole in her chest, and fell. Her white sweater stained red and blood spreading in a pool around her. Prue screamed and launched several wooden beams at him. He sidestepped each one before turning the gun on Prue, again a clean shot to the chest. Phoebe sat as silent witness to this before throwing herself at the man in the trench coat her fists clenched with helpless rage. His hand flicked out to snag her around the throat and lift her off the ground. Phoebe stared into his cold blue eyes, her own brown ones filled with tears of betrayal. His cold gaze softened and seemed almost apologetic. His breath warmed her ear as he whispered, "Phoebe, I'm sorry!" then he rested the barrel of the gun on her sternum and pulled the trigger. Phoebe felt the impact of the shot and slipped into the blackness of oblivion but before surrendering to the darkness she whispered a single word, "Why?"