Dark Destiny

(Charmed Sons Virtual Series)

Season One, Episode One

Destiny's A Witch

Scene Four

"Hello?" Bianca called as she walked into her mother's apartment. "Anyone home? Mom? Hello?" Not long after Chris and Wyatt had left, her cell phone had started going off. It had been her mother's number on the display screen, but it hadn't been her mother that had called. Whoever it was that had called had definitely been male. But she had no idea who that was. All he'd said was, "Please...help..." and then the line had gone dead.

She'd shimmered over to her mother's as soon as she'd snapped her phone shut.

"Hello?" she called out again, now becoming nervous. What if this was a trap?

Still, there was no response.

Carefully and quietly as her training had taught her, she crept further into the apartment. She could hear the constant whine of the phone's dial done and headed towards it. The noise was coming from the kitchen.

She could see the phone lying in front of the island counter in the center of the kitchen. The back had fallen off of it as if it had been dropped. As she bent down to look at the phone, she noticed something else- a small trail of blood leading around behind the island counter.

Curious, she crept around behind the standalone counter.

The tiny trail of blood led to the body of her twenty-six year old cousin, Nicholas.

His eyes were closed as if he was sleeping, he looked almost peaceful, but his body provided another story. He was covered in various cuts and bruises, his clothes were damp with spots of blood and there was a large gash on the side of his face- which was where the trail of blood had come from. What on earth had happened?

"Nicholas!" Bianca cried loudly, hoping to wake him. "Nicholas!"

He didn't move.

"Wake up!" she screamed, slapping him on the cheek.

"Nicholas! Wake up!"

And still, he didn't wake.

Again, she slapped him on the cheek and again he remained motionless.

Tentatively, she grabbed for his wrist. It was as limp as a rag doll's and about as lifeless.

She couldn't feel a pulse. He was dead.

But how could he be? That didn't make sense. There weren't any big injuries anywhere on him. There were some cuts and bruises, sure, but that wouldn't have caused... this... would it?

Slowly, she started checking him over for any big injuries. She didn't find any, no broken bones, no anything.

But then, and not without some effort, she flipped him over and saw it. Straight in the center of his back there was a deep, jagged cut, one most likely made by an athame. There was a large pool of blood beneath him. He'd most likely bled to death.

"Oh..." she whispered softly, tracing the path of the wound. "I'm so sorry, Nicholas. I'm so sorry..."

He'd probably been here like this for a while, and she hadn't known. Not until he'd called.

And by then, it'd been too late.

"I'm sorry," she whispered again. She flipped him over and lovingly ran her hand across his cheek. "But I promise you, I will fix this. I will track down whoever did this to you, and I will make them pay." She kissed his forehead gently and got to her feet. After looking at him one last time, she left the apartment.

She decided it was safest to walk back to the Manor and even safer to take a zigzagging route - just in case whoever had killed Nicholas was after her as well. They wouldn't attack outdoors in public, and they'd be less likely to follow her by foot.

And she really just didn't want to go back to the Manor right now. She needed some time to sort this out, to figure this out in her head. And walking usually helped her figure things out.

It took her eight blocks, but finally it hit her - there was no fixing this. She kept thinking in the back of her mind that if she killed whoever had killed her cousin, she'd fix it and everything would go back to normal. But it wouldn't. Her cousin, one of the few friends she'd had growing up, was gone. She'd never get to see him again. She'd never get to see him smile, never get to hear him laugh, never get to hear him speak excitedly about his latest target ever again.

And the worst part? She wouldn't even be able to go to his funeral. She still saw her family often, but since she was no longer an actual assassin, she wasn't allowed to be part of any of the Phoenix Clan's ceremonies anymore. That included a Phoenix's last rites.

By the twelfth block, she started to cry.

And the rain continued to fall, soaking straight through her long sleeve t-shirt. At some point in her wanderings she'd wished she'd thought to bring a jacket, but it wasn't a particularly persistent thought.

One thought kept running through her mind. She was never going to get to see her cousin ever again.

There was a knock on the door, and frowning, Chris went to answer it. He wasn't too sure they needed visitors right now when everything was so hectic – the Beckett sisters' demon problem was trouble enough, but now Bianca was missing as well. Chris didn't think they needed any innocents to save at the moment. Perhaps he would point any innocent in his cousins' direction. Parker and Paris were just as capable as he, Wyatt, and Prue were when it came to demons. Sure, he and Wyatt were especially good at it and had been doing it for the longest time; but in the long run Parker and Paris could vanquish almost any demon he and Wyatt could. Besides, how many times did innocents need to be saved from a demon that was that powerful?

Answering the door, Chris opened his mouth to turn the person away and froze, eyes wide. Bianca was standing before him, soaked to the bone from the rain that had mysteriously ceased only moments ago. He ushered her into the manor and it took him a few seconds to realize her cheeks weren't wet from the rain.

"Bianca, what's the matter?" he asked gently.

Shaking her head, Bianca sobbed, a sound that unnerved Chris. Bianca almost never cried, so when she did he knew something had to be very wrong. Instead of pressing the issue, he enveloped her in a tight embrace, letting her tears drench his shirt. "It'll be okay," he crooned. "You're safe, Bianca; everything will be fine."

"No." Her voice was dry and dead as she spoke. Shaking her head, she backed away from Chris's embrace. Wrapping her arms around herself, she ducked her head and refused to look him in the eye. "It won't be."

In a secluded cavern in the Underworld, the man in black, Michael Fitzwilliam, watched the scene play out before him on an oracle's glowing crystal ball. The crystal ball provided the only light in the large, empty, cavern, lighting the man's face from underneath like a flashlight used for a spooky campfire tale.

He couldn't help but be proud of himself.

He'd attacked the wrong charge, sure, but the attack on the Phoenix's cousin had more than made up for that little error.

As he watched the scene play out at the Manor, as he saw the spark of unhappiness his actions had started, he grinned.

The Oracle lay dead at his feet, her blood pooling around his shoes.

Again, he smiled. This was only just the beginning.

(End.)

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