Dominic confronted his Aunt. He had been raised on the legend of the charmed ones, he had such high expectations, and here his Aunt was; a disgrace to the name. She backed up against the wall, fear etched on her face.
"Come on witch," Dominic spat at her, "Use your precious power to save yourself. Use the power that you used against my mother!"
Dominic formed an energy ball in his hand, and began tossing it from one hand to the other.
The witch resolutely shook her head, "I'll never use those powers again."
Dominic laughed, "You make getting revenge no fun at all!" He hurtled the glowing ball of energy at his Aunt and watched her burn. Her face contorted in pain and sadness, a last tear traced its way down her cheek.
Dominic shook his head, unsatisfied. He was expecting a fight, expecting a challenge. It had been more of a challenge to find the bitch after she had stopped using magic, fell of the radar. It had taken almost four years to discover which stone she was hiding under.
He was hoping for a more satisfactory fight from his other Aunt, Piper. It hadn't taken much to find her, still at the manor where she had grown up with the sister she had murdered, the last act of magic she had performed.
Dominic looked down at the dead witch at his feet, he bent down and kissed her cheek. "Bye Bye Aunt Paige," He whispered as flames appeared at his feet, enveloping him, Dominic disappeared.
Something was wrong, there was a new evil brewing, she felt it in her bones. Her intuition was never wrong, and Piper knew to listen to it, it was the only aspect of her supernatural abilities that she hadn't turned her back on, she couldn't turn her back on.
Piper fought the urge to run up the stairs and unlock the attic door. She couldn't even if she wanted to, the door was locked, and Paige had taken the key. She knew she could always blow the door open, but she hadn't used her powers for fifteen years, and she wasn't about to start using them just because she had the jitters.
She walked through to the kitchen and threw together some ingredients. It was a reminder of her old potion making days, but these ingredients wouldn't put a hole in a demon, but they would taste great after being cooked for half an hour in a hot oven. Cooking made Piper feel easier, keeping her hands busy. It saved her from having itchy fingers.
Dominic flamed into the manor, he loved how the flames licked at him, but never burnt, they comforted him in an embrace so intimate. He had never been held by anything that gave him so much comfort. He liked to think his mother would have had a warm embrace, but it was something he would never know, she had been brutally murdered when he was young, the sisters had taken away both his parents and left him an orphan. Revenge wasn't something he wanted, it was something he needed, something he craved for, to watch the all powerful charmed ones burn, to end the Warren line, and kill his parents murderers.
He glanced round the manor. He had seen it before, through the seers eyes, but he had never been here. He could almost feel the power of the nexus at his feet. He felt connected to this place, he felt it call to the place inside himself which he reserved for his mother.
He heard movement in the kitchen, the clatter of pots and pans. He moved towards the sound, standing in the doorway of the kitchen, he watched his Aunt dance around the kitchen, gathering herbs. He froze, had she known he was coming? Had that witch warned her somehow? Was she making one of her infamous potions to vanquish him? He felt his stomach lurch, it was an interesting development, he had not felt fear before.
He cursed himself for not doing his homework more thoroughly, he had discovered that his Aunts had turned their backs on magic, and just assumed it to be the case, but now here was his Aunt mixing up a vanquishing potion. For him. He knew she must never be able to finish that potion and stepped into the kitchen.
Piper whirled around as she heard the footsteps on the floor. She watched the young man walk into the room. He stole the breath from Pipers lips as he held eye contact. Piper was taken back years to when she last saw those eyes, when she had last used her magic. She remembered looking into her sisters eyes as she and Paige chanted, as she and Paige used their magic to destroy Phoebe and Cole. She had used her magic to kill her own sister.
Tears stung Pipers eyes as she tore her gaze from her sisters eyes, she tried to focus on other details of the man in front of her, but at every turn she was haunted by a memory of her sister or Cole.
"Dominic!" Piper whispered, resisting the urge to regurgitate.
"So you remember me then Aunt?" Dominic smirked.
"What do you want?" Piper asked, struggling to keep the inner turmoil out of her voice.
"I want my revenge." Dominic said, producing a ball of electric blue and white energy, he held it up so Piper could clearly see.
Piper raised her chin, determined not to show fear, "Do it." She told him, "Kill me and finish this."
"I'm disappointed." He scowled, "After the stories I was raised on, I expected much more of a fight."
"Sorry to disappoint, but we don't use our powers anymore."
"You think your refusal to fight will save you? You think I wont use my powers against a witch who wont defend herself? That wont save you Aunt, just ask Paige."
Piper flinched at the mention of her younger sister, as she realised what he meant.
"No!" she whispered, fresh tears forming behind her dark eyes.
"Yes!" Dominic grinned, malice pouring from him in waves, "You are the last of the charmed ones, the last of the Warren witches. The line dies with you!"
Dominic hurled the energy ball towards his Aunt, and watched as she screamed, clawing at her burning flesh. Finally her screams subsided, as her last breath escaped her lips. Dominic sneered, his mission was complete, it was a huge anti climax, after all these years of preparing for the big fight, it was the easiest kill he had ever completed.
He took a last glance at the burnt remains of his Aunt as he flamed out, returning to the underworld to spread the good news.
Ding Dong the bitches were dead.
Pia Matthews sat on the damp grass, not caring about the grass stains which were going to tarnish her clothing. She caressed the marble slate in front of her, tracing the chiselled words with her fingertips.
Paige Matthews
02/08/1977 - 23/07/2017
Beloved Mother, Sister and Friend.
May She Rest in Peace.
A tear worked its way down her cheek and fell onto the ground. It had been nearly a month since her mother and Aunt had been stolen away so viciously, and it had torn her world apart. She hadn't been able to go back to the apartment since she had stumbled across her own mothers body, scorched and lifeless. She had stayed at first with a foster family, but it had been decided that she would go and live with her older cousins in the manor.
The very thought of living in the manor made her queasy, her Aunt had been found dead there, it didn't strike Pia as a very safe place to be, but the police had sworn they would do everything in their power to hunt down the killer, and that he would be a very foolish man indeed to return to the scene of the crime.
And then there was Wyatt.
Wyatt had practically demanded that she should go and live with him and Chris; he had been almost offended at the thought of a strange family taking her in, when he could help. She knew he was only trying to help, he was trying to keep the family together through this crisis, but Pia didn't want to go to the manor, she simply wasn't ready for it.
The manor had hardly changed throughout her lifetime. It was a comforting constant, the television got bigger, and Aunt Piper had finally conceded to buy computers for Wyatt and Chris, but everything else remained the same, down to the photographs of her mum when she was younger. Pia didn't think she was ready to go back there, with memories of her Aunt and her mom at every turn.
Throughout the trauma of losing his own mother and Pia's, Wyatt had remained strong and solid. He had been the first to think about calling the police, and organised both of the funerals. Pia didn't know what she would have done without him, without the calming effect he had on her. She and Chris were both emotional wrecks, but Wyatt remained strong. Pia didn't remember seeing him cry at his own mothers funeral, he just held onto her and Chris so tightly as they wept their silent tears.
Pia wiped away the tears from her cheeks, running her fingers through her light brown hair, she whispered a silent prayer to her mom and turned to the grave next to her mothers.
Piper Halliwell
07/08/1973- 23/07/2017
Beloved Mother, Sister and Friend
May She Rest In Peace.
She watched her two cousins replacing the dried old flowers with a fresh bunch, Chris leaned forward and touched the cold stone, searching for the comfort he had lost. Wyatt put his hand on the younger mans shoulder, and the two hugged, Chris spilling tears down his brothers back.
Wyatt turned to Pia, "Ready?"
Pia nodded, picking up her bag, "As ready as I'll ever be."
Chris put one arm around his younger cousin, and Wyatt mirrored him, Pia felt safer than she had in weeks, sandwiched between her two cousins. They made their way toward Wyatt's car.
Chris turned on his side, hugging the duvet around him. He couldn't get comfortable. He pressed the button on his alarm clock, lighting up the display. He groaned as he realised that it was close to four in the morning.
He sat up, pushing the heavy duvet away, kicking his legs over the side of his bed, he wiped sleep from his eyes and decided to go down and get some warm milk.
He remembered his childhood, how, every night, his mom would make warm milk and let them have a chunky cookie before bed, how she claimed that the warm milk would help them sleep. He smiled at the memory and headed downstairs.
As he reached the kitchen, he noticed that the light was still on. He edged into the kitchen and saw Wyatt sitting at the breakfast bar, his head buried under his arms, he was sobbing. Chris was startled at the sight of his older brother so vulnerable; he had never seen his brother crying before. He wondered whether he should go back to bed and pretend that he hadn't seen, he knew Wyatt wouldn't like Chris seeing him like this, but Chris took a stool next to his big brother, and put his arm round him.
Wyatt stiffened at the contact, whipping his head around to see who had witnessed this embarrassing spectacle. As he looked into his younger brothers warm brown eyes, he couldn't prevent another tear escaping, as Chris pulled Wyatt into a hug.
The two boys held each other, neither of them saying a word.
Pia threw the contents of her bag onto the bed and spread them over the covers, searching for something clean to wear that day. As she looked them over she realised that she would have to return to the apartment soon, collect the rest of her clothes. If she was living here now, she would need the rest of her things. And at this rate, she would be living in her pyjamas.
A bottle caught her eye; she picked it up and fell back onto the bed, crumpling the clothes underneath her.
Her moms perfume.
She lifted the lid and breathed in the scent, it took her back to her childhood, before hormones and affected her attitude, when she would run up to her mom and hug her so tight that she would sometimes choke on her moms' hair. She laughed at the memory. As the laugh fled her mouth, an immediate sense of guilt replaced it. Her mom was dead, and here she was laughing.
She took the bottle and hid it out of sight in a drawer, turning her attention back to the clothes laid out on her bed. There wasn't much to choose from, and she knew she would have to return to the apartment today.
Wyatt knocked on the door, "Everything ok?" He asked. Pia noticed that dark circles framed his bloodshot eyes.
"Better than you, by the looks of it." She said, throwing a pair of jeans into the washing pile, "Did you actually get any sleep last night?" Pia asked.
Wyatt looked shocked, and faintly guilty as if he had been caught out. He took a glimpse into the mirror on the dresser table and was stunned by what he saw.
"No, not really" He admitted. "But I wasn't the one spending the night in a strange house."
Pia shrugged, "It's not really strange, I practically grew up here too you know."
Wyatt nodded. "Well can I get you anything?" He asked motioning to the items on the bed, "That doesn't seem like a lot; I thought fifteen year old girls were supposed to have tons of stuff!"
Pia frowned, "Yeah, I need to go back and get some more things," Pia said, "The foster family didn't do a great job of packing."
"Well if you like, Chris and I can come with you, help you get all of your things."
"Thanks Wyatt," Pia moved to hug him, "I don't know what I'd have done without you guys this past month."
Pia hesitated outside the door to the apartment. She flashed back to the image of her mothers dead body, burnt, terror apparent on her face. She couldn't go in the apartment.
A warm hand rested on Pia's shoulder and she looked back at Chris.
"If you're not ready," He said, "You don't have to do this."
Pia took a deep breath and pushed the door open. She stood in the doorway for a beat before she moved into the apartment, taken aback by the memories of her mother which haunted her in every corner. Her eyes moved around the room and finally came to rest where she had found the body. She stared, eyes fixed to the spot, as if she could still see her mom.
Chris put his arm round her, hugging her.
"Me and Chris can get your things, you don't have to be here," Wyatt offered. Pia shook her head determined to get through this. She headed for her bedroom, grabbing a bag. She opened her wardrobe and started flinging clothes onto her bed. She didn't care if they got creases; she didn't want to have to be in this apartment a second longer than she had to be.
Wyatt moved into his Aunts bedroom, everything was untouched, just the way Aunt Paige had left it. He knew her things would have to be packed up, but that was a hurdle for another day. Getting Pia inside the apartment would do for now.
As he turned to leave the room, something caught his eye, on the back of the door, a key was hanging. Curious, he removed the key and looked at it. It seemed familiar somehow. The keys grip was in the form of three interlocking ovals inside a larger circle, he had seen this design somewhere before. He looked around the room for the lock, but couldn't see anything. Wyatt left the room, the key still in his hand.
With Pia unpacking her clothes, making her new room more homely, Wyatt began walking round the manor, starting at the bottom going up, looking for the partner lock for this key.
He knew he had seen a lock with this symbol before, and he was convinced it had been somewhere in the manor. He moved from one lock to the next, studying the patterns and then trying the key to see if it fit. He tried to think back, to when he had seen the symbol, hoping his memory would yield some information which would help, but the memory was vague and distant, confused. He had obviously been very young, he could remember bright lights, shouting, he saw the symbol and then… he couldn't remember.
Frustrated, his search for the lock took him upstairs, he avoided Pia's room, he imagined she would be pissed at him if she realised he had taken something form her moms room. He paused at the bottom of the stairs up to the attic. He had almost walked past, disregarded it automatically because he had never been up there, he had never been inside the room. The door had not been opened since he could remember.
He tentatively took his first steps up the stairs. Turning the corner, he looked at the door, shut solid, and locked. He moved closer to get a better look at the lock. It was old, and caked in dust, he wiped it down with his t shirt and stood back when he saw the pattern. He looked down at the key in his hand and matched the key with the lock. It was the same symbol, the same interconnecting ovals within a larger circle.
He slid the key into the lock and turned it. He felt the click as the lock released. Guilt swelled up his body as he remember his mom repeatedly telling him to stay away from the attic, he shook it off as he told himself, logically, his mom wasn't around anymore, and he needed to know what was in the attic.
He opened the heavy door and walked into the dusty attic.
Chris watched his brother walk up the stairs towards the attic, curious, he followed. Neither of them had been allowed into the attic, the door was locked. He stood at the bottom of the stairs and watched Wyatt turn the corner, with a key in his hand. Chris stood back as Wyatt studied the lock and the key, unlocked the door and walked into the attic.
Chris followed his brother into the attic, "Wow!" he breathed, chuckling as he watched Wyatt jump out of his skin, "Where did you find they key?"
Wyatt frowned at the younger man who had appeared out of nowhere, "I found it in Aunt Paiges room." Wyatt admitted, "Don't tell Pia, I don't think she'd be very happy that we took something from her moms room."
"Oh so now it's 'we' is it?" Chris raised his hands, "I didn't take anything!"
"You took something from moms room?" The boys whirled round to see a furious Pia standing in the door, "How could you?"
Guilt crept up Wyatts face, "I'm sorry Pia, I just saw it and I knew I'd seen the pattern before," He gave the key to Pia so she could see the key grip, "I knew I'd seen the lock which the key fitted. It was the lock to this room."
Pia looked around the attic, she had never been up here before either, and her mom had always told her it was forbidden, she was never allowed up here and neither were her cousins. She looked from Wyatt's face to Chris's and then curiosity got the better of her, "I suppose, since we're in here, we might as well look around."
The three moved around the room, exploring the trunks and cases they found, examining old toys, Aunt Prues old cameras and dark room equipment. The room was dark and dirty; everything was caked in layers of dust.
"Do you smell that?" Chris asked.
Wyatt and Pia breathed in, Pia coughed as her lungs filled with dust.
"Smell what?" Wyatt asked, "All I smell is damp."
"So you can't smell sandalwood?" Chris asked. Wyatt looked over at him, shaking his head.
Chris looked around the spot he stood in, searching for the source of the fragrance which reminded him so much of his mom.
The smell grew stronger, as he moved closer to a big brown trunk.
"I think it's coming from this old trunk," Chris said, as he bent over the trunk fiddling with the catch. After a struggle, the catch released and Chris pushed the lid up to look at the contents. Wyatt peered over his shoulder, as the sweet natural scent grew.
"I can smell it!" Wyatt said, "It's getting stronger!"
Chris looked inside the trunk, but his eyes couldn't make sense of the contents, he reached inside and felt a thin layer of cloth covering something heavy. He pulled it out and began unwrapping the cloth from the object.
Wyatt and Pia looked on as the object became unravelled.
"It's a book!" Pia commented, "It's huge!"
"Wait, let me see that!" Wyatt asked Chris. Chris handed the book over to Wyatt.
"Look at that!" Wyatt remarked as he traced the golden symbol imprinted on the green leather with his finger, "It's the same pattern as the one on the lock and key!"
"I wonder what it means?" Pia asked as she closed the lid of the trunk and perched on top.
Wyatt opened the book and began flipping from page to page, his eyes widening at every turn.
"What?" Chris questioned, "You look like you've seen a ghost!"
"It's weird!" Wyatt handed the book back to Chris, "it's like witchcraft or something!"
Pia snorted out a laugh, "witchcraft? Get real!"
Chris flicked back to the front of the book and began to read, "Hear now the words of the witches, the secrets we hid in the night, the oldest of gods are invoked here, the great work of magic is sought." Chris paused looking at Pia and Wyatt, "He's right, it's a book of witchcraft!"
Pia snatched the book from Chris and began leafing through it, "You mean one of our moms was a witch?"
"By the looks of it, both of them were, and maybe Aunt Prue as well," Chris said, "It said something about three witches."
Pia scanned the paragraph after the one Chris had read out, "In this night, and in this hour, I call upon the Ancient Power, bring your power to we witches three, we want the power, give us the power."
No sooner had the word 'power' been spoken, the house reverberated, the attic shaking furiously. As the shuddering subsided, the three cousins exchanged glances.
"What was that?" Pia cried, scared.
"Witchcraft!" Chris laughed, he started tickling Pia, "We're evil witches and we want to suck your blood!"
"Don't be stupid- Vampires suck blood, witches just curse people!" Pia giggled.
"Aww," Chris moaned, "that's boring."
Wyatt laughed at his younger brother, "It was probably just a little quake, I doubt it would have even registered."
"still," Pia considered, "it was kinda spooky." She stood up, putting the book back into the trunk, "whatever that book is, it's nothing to do with us, right?"
The boys nodded, as the three of them made their way back downstairs.