Hey all! I know you're all used to my Harry Potter stories but I've decided to post some one my Charmed fanfiction. I'm a HUGE fan of Phoebe/Cole. They are the BEST couple in the whole universe and beyond. Yes…beyond…OO
And so…if you are a fan of Charmed and followed these two, this story takes place just at the end of episode 5.09 "Sam I Am" aka "Daddy Dearest."
I have a thing for vampires and a thing for Cole. Thus, I birthed this story. –lol-
Hope you enjoy!
--
"Bloodlust" – Chapter 1
She wanted him dead. He was now positive of that. And not only dead, but killed—by her own hand, on her own terms.
These thoughts were slowly torturing Cole in every bit of his being like a violent poison as he stood on the balcony of his penthouse apartment. He'd been standing there, his hands gripping the edge, since she and her sisters left. The afternoon sky had morphed into fiery shades and was now darkening to almost black. Black; this was much more appropriate than the happy memories the sunset elicited.
What happened to her...to his Phoebe? The Phoebe he loved and who loved him in return? She seemed so cold. What he wouldn't give just to have her run to his arms like she used to, instead of running away from him. It hurt so much; tears were threatening to fall from his sad blue eyes. God, he missed her…
Glancing down at his hands clenching the balcony, he saw his knuckles were white. His hands hurt, but he welcomed the physical pain as a momentary distraction from his shattered heart. He couldn't stay here, in this apartment; it made him stir-crazy. Walking back into the apartment, Cole headed for the door and out of the building to take a walk.
After a few hours of aimlessly roaming the city streets, Cole found himself in the graveyard. A cool breeze picked up and stroked his face as he weaved through the maze of graves. He looked ahead of him and spotted the mausoleum. Sighing, he headed for it. Once inside, Cole took a deep breath to try to force down the devastation that came with the memories of meeting Phoebe here that rushed back to him.
Circling around to the back of the mausoleum he found his father's tomb. 'Benjamin Coleridge Turner 1859-1888' it read. Cole knelt down it front of it and brushed the dust off of the carved name in a feeble attempt to make it presentable. Something caught in his throat and he tried hard to swallow. He'd never met his father and he missed him. Sitting down on the dusty floor, he leaned his head against the tomb and closed his eyes. The cold air that had blown in when he opened the door embraced him and he shivered against it. He was so tired; he wanted so badly to just give up. But he'd tried that earlier in the day, and couldn't even do that properly.
He didn't even know how long he sat that way when suddenly, Cole heard a soft, deep laugh from somewhere within the mausoleum. He didn't move, didn't even open his eyes, half hoping whomever it was would come and help him put and end to everything.
"Well, well, what do we have here?" asked a voice so smooth it was like honey. Cole opened his eyes slightly and looked up at the source of the voice. A tall, ghostly pale man with long blonde hair who seemed about Cole's age stood looking down at him amused, with his arms crossed. Uninterested, Cole closed his eyes again until he felt someone slide a hand under his chin and turn his face. Cole discovered it was the man, his face inches from his own. He was examining him closely.
"What do you want?" Cole managed to croak out, trying to pull his face away from the man's grip. The man let go and straightened back up. The way he stood and moved was very fluid and graceful.
"We want a new one," the blonde replied simply.
"A new what?" asked Cole apathetically.
The man was quiet for a while as his eyes surveyed the one below him from head to toe again. After a long while, he said, "My name is Lucius and I want a new addition to our coven. And you're perfect."
"Oh really? How's that?" Cole wondered with a wry laugh at the man's last word.
"Obviously, you're sitting drowning in your sorrows. Over a loved one, no less, who doesn't love you. And you're here alone because you have no one else. So no one will miss you, and that's exactly what we want."
Cole didn't answer. A ball of emotion was tightening in his chest.
"And…" Lucius added slowly. "You are absolutely beautiful. Only the beautiful join our coven."
"I don't want to join your stupid coven," Cole spat.
In a flash, Lucius was down at Cole's eye level again. He grabbed Cole's face and turned it towards him. "This is not a proposition," he whispered so harshly, Cole expected him to spit venom. "This is a decision I have made for you. Now, don't fight it. It will only make things worse."
With this, he produced a switchblade and flicked it open right in front of Cole's face. It glinted in the faint moonlight that poured through one of the windows. Cole's eyes followed the blade down to his the hem of his t-shirt, then looked back into Lucius's eyes. They were an intense shade of green that glimmered with malice. As the blade slid under Cole's shirt and up his abdomen and chest, tearing through the fabric, Cole found he didn't even have the will to stop him. It would be so easy to lift a hand and throw Lucius against the opposite wall, but he found no point in fighting back. No one wanted him to fight to stay alive for them. So he sat there, and with every shallow breath he took, his skin brushed against the cold metal.
In moments, his shirt had been cut completely down the middle. Lucius pushed Cole's shirt and jacket off of his shoulder, leaving the right side of his chest exposed. With two fingers, Lucius traced small circles on Cole's chest, finally stopping directly above his heart, which had begun to race.
"Mmm…I love it when the heart races. It gives me a surge of energy when I sink my teeth into it," purred Lucius. "Afraid all of a sudden, are we? Do you even know what I'm going to do?"
Cole's heart pounded.
"When I said coven, I meant a coven of vampires," explained Lucius, drinking in Cole's sapphire eyes with his emerald ones. "Welcome to the coven…Cole."
Lucius then lowered his head to Cole's chest, and let his teeth pierce through the skin, all the way to Cole's heart. Cole cried out in excruciating pain. As Lucius drank, Cole felt as if two daggers were being twisted into his chest and his whole life, or what was left of it, was being drawn out slowly and agonizingly. He could barely breathe as tears from the pain gathered in his eyes, clouding his vision.
Just when he felt that he couldn't take it anymore, Lucius withdrew and stood up. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand as he watched Cole slump to the ground. The cold of the hard concrete against Cole's face felt like heaven compared to the throbbing in his chest. The tears that had collected in his eyes now cascaded down into a little pool on the ground by his face.
"Tsk tsk…you poor thing," Lucius spoke in mock concern. "I don't envy what you're about to go through. You're going to shake, you're going to sweat. Your skin will harden, become cold as rock and lose color as your eyes gain it. You're going to be retching anything left in your stomach. And your heart will race; it will hammer until finally it stops. And this will hurt even more than what you've experienced right now because it is finally being jarred out of life."
Lucius stopped and watched Cole, absolutely motionless on the ground with only a faint sound of low, ragged breathing. "I don't want to be here to watch you; you can go through this alone. I will be back, though. You cannot escape from us now."
He was gone. For a long while, Cole stayed exactly where he was in an oddly lucid state, hoping Lucius was wrong and he would just bleed to death. Death was the only one he wanted to see now.
Then, something hit him. Cole suddenly remembered the promise he'd made to Phoebe long ago in this mausoleum. 'I'm not giving up - I'm not going away.' His own words rang in his head. He knew she hated him, he knew she never wanted to see him again, but he'd never broken a promise to her and he wasn't going to start now. He had to go to her. Though he had no one to turn to, he loved her no matter what she thought of him. She would always be the safest place in the world.
Drawing up the very last ounce of strength he had left, Cole pulled himself to his feet and teetered quite a bit until finally steadying himself enough to walk. He buttoned his jacket; he couldn't let her see what had happened to him, he just wanted her close.
Phoebe couldn't sleep. She was the only one in the house. Piper and Leo had decided to spend the night somewhere romantic while Paige felt like partying. So the manor was completely quiet and she was left with her thoughts. Nothing was distracting her from replaying the events of the day. She had wanted Cole dead, but seeing the desperation in his eyes caused a twinge in her heart. He himself wanted so badly to die and she didn't want to help him do it and had told him so.
'You already have.' That's what he said. Had she? Why couldn't she help, but slightly believe him?
Pulling a pillow over her head, Phoebe attempted to block out these thoughts. But then, she heard the muffled sound of the doorbell downstairs. She got up and looked at the digital clock by her bedside. 12:38 a.m. Who could possibly come to the door at this hour?
She padded barefoot down the stairs and to the front door. Opening it, she gasped to discover Cole sitting slumped against the wall on the stoop. He looked half-dead.
Through half-open eyes he gazed up at her. His voice came out in a tattered whisper. "Phoebe…"
--
So how was the first chapter? Please tell me in a lovely review. The next one will be up very very soon.
COMING SOON in Chapter 2: What is Phoebe to do with her fallen little bird? Well…find out next time…
