It was inside Cole. Tearing him up from the insides out.
She could hear his pain inside her head and she could feel it in her own veins.
"Cole..." the familiar voice called.
But it couldn't be seen and Cole couldn't run. All he could do was fight this on his own and without her help.
Phoebe woke up, shaking for the third night in a row. She turned on her side to look at Cole, make sure he was okay. Reaching out her hand, she touched his back and to her horror, felt something wet.
She jerked her hand away staring at it in shock. Her hand was covered in blood.
Slowly, she stood up and went around to Cole's side of the bed. Her lip was trembling as she stared at the body, which was covered completely by the white sheet that was now covered in blood. She lifted it away with a shaky hand and her mouth opened in shock.
Prue was lying there dead. Not Cole.
She ran from the room and kept running, until she knocked into something. Cole.
"Phoebe, what's wrong?" Cole asked her.
She didn't answer, she couldn't. She didn't know what exactly to say.
He grabbed her wrist. "Your hands! They're covered in blood!" he exclaimed.
"I know." She choked out, "It's Prue's blood."
"But Prue isn't here." He held her shoulders, trying to keep her stable.
"She's lying in our bed, Cole! She's not alive, it killed her!" she screamed as the tears began to fall rapidly down her cheeks.
"It?" Cole asked, confused.
"The thing from my dream, the same thing that killed Piper and is killing you!"
Cole let go of Phoebe and backed away. What was she talking about? He had known something must be wrong with Phoebe. After all, she was seeing dead bodies. Her sisters' dead bodies. But there had to be some truth to her hysterics. He did see the bloody bath water; he was looking directly at the blood on Phoebe's hands.
Now she was saying that it was killing him? "How Phoebe? How is it killing me?"
"I don't know. But I felt it. It was tearing you apart and it was coming from inside you. It's something only you can fight." She told him, fighting back tears.
In the back of his mind, he knew who she was talking about. He knew who the infamous "It" was. But he pushed the thoughts away, back to the darkest corners of his mind; the same corners where it lived and breathed.
Cole walked past Phoebe and to their bedroom. He gaped at the bloody sheets that were strewn over the bed. But he saw no dead body. No Prue.
Phoebe had walked in behind him and stood right beside him. "She was there, I swear she was, Cole. I'm not hallucinating." She stated, blankly.
"I believe you." Cole told her, slipping his arm around her.
He knew that he was causing these things to happen, but he knew not how. But the way that Phoebe had described him dying, seemed only like Belthazor was doing it. Cole knew that he hadn't physically done these things, but something had to be happening. He just had to find out and stop it. Before Phoebe ended up hurt.
She could hear his pain inside her head and she could feel it in her own veins.
"Cole..." the familiar voice called.
But it couldn't be seen and Cole couldn't run. All he could do was fight this on his own and without her help.
Phoebe woke up, shaking for the third night in a row. She turned on her side to look at Cole, make sure he was okay. Reaching out her hand, she touched his back and to her horror, felt something wet.
She jerked her hand away staring at it in shock. Her hand was covered in blood.
Slowly, she stood up and went around to Cole's side of the bed. Her lip was trembling as she stared at the body, which was covered completely by the white sheet that was now covered in blood. She lifted it away with a shaky hand and her mouth opened in shock.
Prue was lying there dead. Not Cole.
She ran from the room and kept running, until she knocked into something. Cole.
"Phoebe, what's wrong?" Cole asked her.
She didn't answer, she couldn't. She didn't know what exactly to say.
He grabbed her wrist. "Your hands! They're covered in blood!" he exclaimed.
"I know." She choked out, "It's Prue's blood."
"But Prue isn't here." He held her shoulders, trying to keep her stable.
"She's lying in our bed, Cole! She's not alive, it killed her!" she screamed as the tears began to fall rapidly down her cheeks.
"It?" Cole asked, confused.
"The thing from my dream, the same thing that killed Piper and is killing you!"
Cole let go of Phoebe and backed away. What was she talking about? He had known something must be wrong with Phoebe. After all, she was seeing dead bodies. Her sisters' dead bodies. But there had to be some truth to her hysterics. He did see the bloody bath water; he was looking directly at the blood on Phoebe's hands.
Now she was saying that it was killing him? "How Phoebe? How is it killing me?"
"I don't know. But I felt it. It was tearing you apart and it was coming from inside you. It's something only you can fight." She told him, fighting back tears.
In the back of his mind, he knew who she was talking about. He knew who the infamous "It" was. But he pushed the thoughts away, back to the darkest corners of his mind; the same corners where it lived and breathed.
Cole walked past Phoebe and to their bedroom. He gaped at the bloody sheets that were strewn over the bed. But he saw no dead body. No Prue.
Phoebe had walked in behind him and stood right beside him. "She was there, I swear she was, Cole. I'm not hallucinating." She stated, blankly.
"I believe you." Cole told her, slipping his arm around her.
He knew that he was causing these things to happen, but he knew not how. But the way that Phoebe had described him dying, seemed only like Belthazor was doing it. Cole knew that he hadn't physically done these things, but something had to be happening. He just had to find out and stop it. Before Phoebe ended up hurt.