"I had a vision."

The twins ate breakfast together the next morning; the night before, Chase had sprinted into Julie's sacred space to check and see if she was alright after witnessing her collapse and faint. He crouched to his knees and took her lifeless body into his grasp, taking off her translucent, cream-colored veil as he peered down at her beautiful face. He leaned down to kiss her forehead, his ungloved, malformed hand pulling her ice blonde hair away from her face—within minutes, her eyes opened with tears coming down from the corners. Chase sipped his orange juice and looked over at his sister, whose faint expression stared off into space.

"What did you see?" he asked. Julie turned her soulful gray gaze to her brother, and held her toast by its crust, running her finger along the crisp, smooth edge.

"The Norns," she began. "They told me that there is a danger among us." She took a bite of her toast, and Chase gasped as he felt himself tremble with worry.

"Uh…what?"

"They seemed unclear," she said as if in a daze as soon as she swallowed, "but they said danger is indeed among us."

"I'm scared," Chase replied nervously. "C-Can you make them go away?"

"The Norns?" Julie sounded shocked.

"No, I mean…you know, the bad?" her brother asked, his eyes sparkling timidly. Julie sighed, holding her drink and concentrating on the fluid inside so it froze solid—it was ice cold to the touch after it solidified in the glass. She thought for a moment, remembering it was their day off—the shop was always closed on Sundays. She looked at her brother with determination, nodding slightly.

"I can perform a protection ritual," she replied.

"Can I be with you in the circle?" Chase asked, his eyes filled with hope. Julie sighed; she performed a huge majority of her rituals by herself. Then again, Chase was being protected as well, and she planned to extend her protection to their new friends Eleonora and Misty—what was the point of casting the spell alone?

"Alright, Chase," she giggled. "After breakfast."

Later that day, Zoe heard the telephone ringing. She approached it without hesitation and picked it up from the receiver, putting it to her ear and greeting the other end.

"Hello?" she asked.

"Hey, is this Zoe Benson?" the voice, a female, asked.

"Yes, who is this?"

"This is Alicia, Kyle's mom," the woman replied.

"Hello. Is everything alright, Mrs. Spencer?" Zoe asked; the thought of Kyle crossed her mind. How had he been doing since last seeing him?

"Oh, everythin' is dandy, but…" Mrs. Spencer trailed off. "Kyle…he…well, how do I put this? He's outta sorts."

"Yeah?" A fearful chill ran down the girl's spine as she held the phone to her ear.

"I noticed a change in 'im," she continued. "He ain't talkin', just gruntin'. He moves slower than usual and…well…even physically he's different."

"Oh…" Zoe responded, turning her head to see Madison standing there against the beam of the doorway with her arms crossed over her chest; her soft light brown eyes were curious, and Zoe sighed softly as the woman continued on the other end of the line.

"I 'member when I first got news of Kyle dyin', well, he almost did. I almost killed myself. Just seein' you bring 'im on here changed my mind. Y'know, ever since 'is father left us, there's been a hole in my heart. I just can't replace it."

"Oh…" Zoe was speechless, and had a strange look in her expressive honey brown eyes. "Well…I'm sorry to hear that, Mrs. Spencer."

"Say, I wanna thank you for bringin' 'im back to me," Mrs. Spencer continued. "I wanna invite you to dinner tomorrow night."

"Oh…uh…really?" Zoe asked.

"Yes."

"Well, that sounds…nice," the girl said. "Well, I have to go now. Bye."

Upon hanging up the phone, Zoe looked back and turned, getting a better look at Madison's curiosity. He stood up straight and adjusted her pitch black top and approached Zoe; her honey brown eyes looked worried as she sighed. Her hand rested on the table, and Madison looked at her steadily.

"Who was that?" she asked.

"Kyle's mother," Zoe said.

"What did she want?"

"She told me that she wanted to thank me for bringing him back to her. She invited me to dinner tomorrow night," Zoe said, smiling sadly.

"That's a good thing, though," Madison said with a sly smile. "You should go. I'll let you borrow one of my dresses."

"That's nice of you, but I have something to wear already," Zoe smiled. "I'm not going to 'dress up'."

"Well, then," Madison sneered.

"Cordelia?" Fiona called softly, coming into her daughter's hospital room with white lilies in a glass vase.

"Who's there?" she asked.

When the Supreme came up to her hospital bed, she got a much closer look at the grotesque, pus-covered visage that had overcome her daughter's face. She gasped, putting her hands over her mouth to see that Cordelia's eyes went from a warm brown to a ghostly white—her pupils were not present, and her irises had been burned away from the sulphuric acid. Her upper and lower eyelids were bright red and looked as though someone had poured boiling hot water or lava on her skin; it was rippled like a burn scar. Her daughter groaned in pain, feeling agony as tears developed in her eyes.

"Shh," Fiona said, trying to make her stop crying.

"Where is Mrs. Mortenson?" Cordelia cried out. "She was the only one there!"

"She's all taken care of. She is the replacement headmistress until you are back on your feet," her mother said. "I hired her."

"What?"

"Yes. I know what happened because she told me," Fiona answered, a slight smile in her lips.

"It was a robed figure. I didn't get a good look at them," Cordelia wept, putting her hands up close to her face without touching her injured eyes. "Before I knew it…they…" She sobbed heavily, whining as tears painfully formed in her eyes.

"Helen said the same thing. She told me she burned them alive," Fiona added. Her daughter's unwavering blind eyes stared into space, seeing absolutely nothing.

"I…I knew I smelt something burning," she cried. "She was there. I heard yelling over my own screams as well."

"Do you remember what was said?"

"No, not really," Cordelia said as a painful tear was shed. "I wish I could remember. Mrs. Mortenson was there and she—"

"Saved you," Fiona cut in, finishing her sentence. "I am grateful to her, and you should be as well. If she weren't there, god only knows what could've happened. You'd probably be in worse shape than you are now."

"So you gave her my job?" Cordelia asked.

"Temporarily, yes," Fiona answered. "Helen is everything we need and perfect for the job as your replacement. Think of it as her being a substitute teacher. She won't be there for long, andyou won't have the stress on your shoulders. You can recover."

"But what about the girls?" Cordelia asked. "She doesn't know them."

"Eleonora is her daughter," her mother replied, putting her hand over Cordelia's and holding it. "I'm shocked at how that girl has adapted to living with us."

"S-She denied having powers and being normal," Cordelia said, recalling the storm Eleonora created in the dining room a few weeks before. "But since then, she's made friends with the other girls. She's very shy, though, still."

"We will need to crack her shell open more for her to become fully part of our clan," Fiona said with a hopeful smile. Cordelia took a sigh, moving her head to the side as she took a moment to remember the first morning gathering with Eleonora being included.

"She is not a Salem descendent," she confessed. Fiona looked shocked, and gasped, but listened as her daughter continued. "She shared with us that she is Swedish-American. There is no way she can be a Salem descendant."

"Huh? I don't understand," Fiona said, crossing a leg over the other as she sat in the chair next to her daughter's hospital bed.

"Exactly what I said," Cordelia replied. "Both of her parents, according to her, are half Swedish."

"I read once that Sweden had a few major witch trials in its history," Fiona recalled, getting up and walking toward the window, looking out at the view of the city. "I remember Torsåker and Mora being mentioned in the book I read. It wasn't just Salem that was famous. In fact, our kind is always being attacked. It doesn't matter where her bloodline originates. We need to teach them how to fight," Fiona paused and looked back at her blind daughter, "because when witches don't fight, we burn."

Alicia Spencer had prepared stuffed chicken, broccoli, and brown gravy; she waiting for Zoe's arrival the following night, and upon telling Kyle she had invited her, his undead eyes seemed to light up at the thought. His memory was terrible, but Zoe's peaceful facial features, honey brown eyes, and long, straight brown hair stuck in his mind like fresh gum. He let out an inaudible grunt and smiled, but it slowly faded as Alicia made her way over toward him from her position in his doorway; she had straggly, unkempt brown hair and seemingly colorless blue eyes.

"I missed you when you were gone," she said. "I hope you ain't developin' feelings for that girl." Kyle grunted in response, still unable to speak.

"What's the matter?" she asked, strangely seductive. "We had some fun times together. Now, you don't wanna pay any attention to me." Another grunt came from Kyle, and once his mother leaned down to kiss his lips, he shoved her away, grunting angrily.

"Grr," he groaned.

"What's wrong with you? I've missed you, and I need some love," Alicia responded, reaching down to undo her son's pants. "You're actin' like you ain't never done it before! Stop it!"

"NOO!"

Kyle's first word since being revived was in a fit of intense rage. Alicia began to run as she saw her son pick up a heavy trophy from his shelf, earned during his high school career in football, and he screamed barbarically as he sprinted down the hall. Once he caught up to Alicia, who tried to escape to the bathroom, he hit her once on the back of the head to knock her out before straddling her unconscious body and slamming the heavy object into her head.

BANG!

CRUNCH!

SLAM!

CRUNCH!

GUSH!

Brain matter began to ooze from the large, open fracture. Blood splattered all over the bathtub and made a generous pool on the clean, white tiles of the bathroom floor. Even Kyle himself was covered in blood and brain fragments, looking down to see that he had smashed in her face as well, breaking her nose, her eye sockets—she was too disfigured to distinguish anymore. Kyle, for one, felt no emotions; his heart didn't even race as Zoe arrived to his house and saw him bumping his head repeatedly against the edge of the tub. She gasped in fear upon seeing the body—tears falling down as she screamed bloody murder.

"AHHHHHHHH!"

A/N:

Kind of a short chapter, I know; but hey, short and sweet is the way to go, right?

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