Hey. Um… hey. I've been poking around on the Internet which, as I'm sure you'll all know if you've done this, never really leads to anything good. Heh. I've found myself a couple of Wyatt and Chris spin off fics and other stuff and it just seemed like a good idea to have a go. This is what I consider the pilot of the series, which is, as of yet, to get a name. That's how well I've thought this through. Whoops.
Anyway, I just thought I'd throw this out there. This is set in the changed future. Chris is twenty-one and Wyatt is twenty-three. Pretty much everything else is self-explanatory or will be explained within the fic.
Disclaimer: Not only do I own nothing to do with Charmed, I don't intend to claim that I do. This is a work of fiction; I'm not gaining any profit from doing this, unless you count a happy feeling which, sadly, won't be adding any zeroes to my bank account any time soon.
1x01 — Pilot: Out on Our Own Now
Henry Jenkins rolled over in bed and squinted through the glare of the alarm clock to see the numbers. It was a little after three in the morning. He screwed up his face, rubbing his eyes and rolling onto his back. His throat was dry as a bone. He contemplated trying to get back to sleep but quickly gave up. He smiled at his sleeping girlfriend and breathed a gentle kiss against her cheek, shoving the comforter off him. He quietly padded his way out of the bedroom and into the living area outside, yawning and stretching as he made his way to the kitchen.
Darkness enveloped the whole apartment but he had lived there a while and was well-practised with the layout, able to expertly skirt the small breakfast bar that separated the kitchen from the main living space even though it could barely be seen in the dim light filtering through the window above the sink. On the same wall as the window all of the kitchen cabinets and appliances were lined up. The kitchen — hell, the whole place — was small but functional, and he could just about handle functional.
Instead of turning on the light, he opened the fridge door and jammed a spoon between the door and the appliance so that it couldn't close, allowing light to spill out from within it enough for him to see what he was doing. The yellow-tinged glow from the little bulb inside the fridge glinted on the silver charm dangling from around his neck and the small crystal set in it.
Behind him, the dim light played across the shadows of the room and they seemed to shift, flitting to deeper cover. With his back to the main apartment, however, he just grabbed a glass from the drainer and shoved it under the water dispenser on the freezer, filling the glass to the brim and taking a huge gulp.
A floorboard squeaked beyond the kitchen in the living area and he turned quickly, accidentally slopping icy water over his bare feet. He swore and snatched for a dishcloth, tossing it to the tiles and shoving it around with his now-decidedly-chilly foot to mop up the spill.
"Jen?" he called into the darkness, setting his glass on the breakfast bar and bending down to retrieve the cloth, straightening up and absently throwing it into the sink. "Jen?" he asked again, receiving nothing but deafening silence that rang in his ears. Another floorboard squeaked and he felt his heart quicken. "Jen, come on. You know I hate this sneaking and creeping stuff… Knock it off." He paused, waiting for his girlfriend to reveal herself. More silence. He stumbled across the kitchen to the light switch and flicked it.
Bright overhead lights snapped on across the entire apartment and he barely had time to turn before something that moved so fast that it was a blur leapt out of the darkness at him and slammed him back into the wall, driving the air out of him. He grunted and was then suddenly aware that he was being lifted off his feet. Panicked, he started to yell and struggle, managing to glimpse the face of his captor, who was wearing a black ninja-style mask over their face that revealed nothing but glowing yellow eyes.
His yell was cut off as he was tossed across the apartment, slamming into his easy chair hard enough to snap the back off. His blow cushioned by the padded leather that had been his favourite chair, he was able to recover quickly and rolled so that he was ducked in front of the couch, hoping that the back of the piece of furniture would conceal him. Why had he turned on the lights…?
He looked down at the pendant, which was hanging in midair because of the crouch he was in, whirling wildly and the usually white crystal was glowing red. "Thanks for the warning," he hissed bitterly at it, panic and his pounding heart hitching his voice in his throat. More footsteps. He swallowed, gripping the chain of the necklace so that the pendant was dangling in front of him and stood up suddenly.
The masked figure, dressed also all in black, was in front of him in a supernaturally-fast flash but recoiled slightly at the sight of the pendant glowing blood-red at it. It hissed, and something behind the mask shifted and, as he looked into the yellow eyes, he realised that the figure was pulling a snarl. He began a familiar incantation, locking his brown eyes with the yellow ones of the intruder.
"Spirit of Light, course through my home.
Safety's gone and evil roams.
Protect me from this evil force
That's—"
He was so absorbed in his spell and so satisfied with the masked intruder's hissing at the sound of it that he didn't hear more footsteps behind him. He was suddenly aware of gloved fingers scrabbling at the nape of his neck but reacted too late and the chain of his necklace was yanked backwards so violently that it burnt his shoulder and slammed the fist clutching at it into his Adam's apple. His fist dropped the pendant to his chest quickly as he doubled over, choking from the blow to his throat.
The figure behind him continued pulling on the necklace and then twisted it, garrotting him. Desperate hands scrabbled to loosen the chain but it was being pulled too tight to get his fingers underneath it for leverage. Something warm began to run down his bare torso and, looking down through a fast-approaching oxygen-deprivation haze, he saw a rivulet of blood meandering its way across his flesh as the chain of the necklace began to cut into his neck.
The figure choking him yanked upwards, pulling him back up to his full height and arching his back towards it whilst the figure in front of him produced a large, silver, serrated athame. A silver dragon coiled its way around the ebony hilt, ending near the top with a red jewel clamped in its snarling jaws.
The first figure jammed the athame into his abdomen viciously, thrusting upwards to enter the ribcage and twisting. Henry gasped, wanting to put his hands to the wound but the lack of air had weakened his muscles and his arms barely twitched. The figure behind him yanked the necklace one last time, snapping the chain. The pendant was catapulted from the chain and shot across the room, bouncing on the boarded floor and coming to rest under the credenza that was in front of the breakfast bar, still glowing red.
Finally able to breathe and finally not being held up anymore, Henry dropped to his knees, taking in deep rattling breaths. He fell onto his side, his face screwed up in pain. Now able to move his arms he pressed his hand to the wound in his stomach, feeling his fingers become slick and slippery with blood as it wormed its slimy way through his fingers, stealing away his life with it.
"Honey?"
Henry turned, seeing Jennifer come to the door in her negligée, squinting against the bright lights of the living area after the darkness of the bedroom. Her eyes had barely adjusted and she just about had time to see her boyfriend on the floor slowly bleeding out before a third figure seemed to materialise from the shadows in the corner of the room and drag her back by the hair as she raced across the room towards him, placing both of its hands on her head and twisting. An audible snap echoed through the apartment, hanging on the air.
"Jen!" Henry cried, the force of his yell spraying blood from his lips. "Jen…" he repeated but quieter, resigned, as his girlfriend seemed to fall in slow motion towards the floor, eventually collapsing dead to the exposed boards with a dull thud. "Jen…" he whispered, tears forming in his eyes.
"Oh please, witch. You'll be with her soon," the masked figure still holding the bloody athame snapped, bending down and wiping the blade clean on Henry's pyjama pants. It looked up and nodded at the two companions and they all turned as one and slithered into the shadows milling around the bedroom door.
End of Teaser.
Credits, Commercial Break.
End my nail-biting and insecurity! Was it good? Was it bad? I won't know unless you tell me!