UNDER YOUR SPELL
--Dancing With Lightning
A/N: Well, this isn't turning out to be as depressing as I thought. Thankyou so much to the people/person who reviewed. I checked it a school then danced around the library. It was fun. BTW: Thankyou to other people who reviewed for my other stories: if I hadn't got anything from you I wouldn't have continued. I love you guys!
Rest In Peace The funeral didn't last for long, but for Hunter it felt like years. He felt terrible and hollow inside, as if someone had cut him open and pulled all his insides out without using anything to numb his body. It hurt. Badly.
Mary K clung to Sean, sobbing, and Mary Grace just stood wide-eyed, staring at the open coffin with Morgan's body inside. Halfway through, Killian showed up with Sky, both of them silently crying. While everyone was talking amongst themselves quietly, Hunter approached Mary K.
"Sweetheart..."
She threw herself on him, sobbing. "It's not fair!" she cried. "I hate it!!!"
"I know. Morgan told me to tell you that everything will be fine. She loves you, and she believes in you to do anything. She always has."
Mary K looked up at Hunter, wide-eyed. "It was something to do with Wicca, wasn't it?"
Hunter looked away.
Mary K grabbed his shoulders. "What happened?"
"A man sent something here, something called a Dark Wave. It would have wiped out the whole town if Morgan hadn't thrown herself into it. Only someone related to the person who created the Dark Wave could end it. Forever. And she did."
"And she ended her own life in the process," Bree said from behind Mary K. "She left all her friends behind."
"It wasn't her fault. She did it, because if she didn't, she wouldn't have to leave her friends behind, because you'd all be with her, understand?" Hunter asked Bree. "We would have all been dead."
Bree started sobbing, and she leaned into Robbie, almost screaming, "No!!!"
After the funeral, Hunter drove the Rowlands family to his house. They all sat silently in the kitchen as Hunter and Mary K made tea, Mary K's hands shaking so badly she spilt the boiling water all down her front. Daniel walked upstairs and came back with one of Sky's shirts, handing it to Mary K silently. Mary K walked up to the bathroom, where she washed her face and put on the other shirt. As she draped her shirt over the bath, she saw Morgan's jacket draped over the door handle. She put on Sky's white shirt, the put Morgan's black leather jacket on over the top, crying again.
ï¾
Morgan sat at a table with a white tablecloth, in a white room. She looked down at herself. She was covered in veins, all standing out over body. She was wearing a white robe that clung to her body, feeling like nothing was there at all. On the other wall she spotted a mirror. But it wasn't reflecting what the rest of the room was coloured. There were trees, and black blurs. She made her way slowly to the mirror: she felt like she was stepping on glass. She came to the mirror and looked into it. Her family and friends gathered around a wooden coffin, her coffin. The scene switched. It showed Mary K discovering the jacket she'd left in Hunter's bathroom, and crying.
Morgan knew she was dead... and frankly, she didn't care. She watched Hunter walk into his room and curl up on his bed, crying. Now she did care. With a scream, she slammed her fist into the mirror, shattering it.
"There now. We can't have that."
Morgan turned around and saw Maeve Riordan standing front of her. "Ma?"
"I broke the mirror too, when I first came here. Do you like it?"
"What, the mirror? It's broken."
Maeve laughed. "The place, my darling."
"It's white," Morgan stated. "And white. And white."
Maeve laughed and draped her arm around her daughter's shoulders. She smelled like smoke and fire.
"Do I smell like the Dark Wave?" Morgan asked suddenly, feeling her cheeks to find that the veins were pulsing Dark Energy.
"No, hon. You smell like hell."
"Are we in hell?"
"No. We're in heaven. But we go to hell to help people. We're angels, and it's our job. Sometimes we even go to the human realm to watch over people. I watched over you for five years."
"Did you choose to?" Morgan asked.
Maeve laughed. "Yes, I chose to. I wanted to keep an eye on you."
Morgan threw her arms around her mother's waist. "I'm so glad I've got you."
"I know, love. I know."
ï¾
Hunter woke up the next morning, still in his clothes. Ugh. He felt terrible. He would have felt better if Morgan was there. Not even next to him, but safe, asleep in bed at the Rowlands' house. He always felt calm knowing she was just a phone call away. Now she wasn't. She was a lifetime away. With a sigh, he got off his bed and straightened his clothes. He didn't care about getting changed.
--
Alisa Soto sat in her room, thinking. If only she could find a way to speak to Morgan, to apologise... with an exasperated yell she walked downstairs, to find Hilary placing a fat omelette in Alisa's place at the table. "Thankyou," she muttered.
--
Hunter got to Widow's Vale High the same time Janice Yutoh did. Knowing Morgan dated the tall blonde heading towards the school; she hurried up to him and tapped him on the shoulder.
"Where's Morgan?"
Hunter looked at her. "She's dead."
"What??" Janice took a step back, tears welling in her eyes. "What??"
"I'm sorry, Janice. She chose to die."
"She committed suicide??"
"In a way, yes." His eyes were sad. "But, she saved other lives in the process. It was more like a sacrifice."
Janice leaned against her car as Hunter strode of to where Kithic hung out.
As he approached them, the air around his body changed. In fact, this whole area was plagued with this heaviness in the air. He suddenly realised what it was. Pure, bitter sadness. Bree was sitting at the bottom of the steps, engaged in a book he couldn't see the title to. White-hot rage came from her, no sadness at all.
It will come eventually, he told himself. I felt the same when Linden died. I wasn't even sad until everything had been resolved.
"Are you all coming to the circle tomorrow night?"
They all nodded, and then Raven spoke up, her voice wobbly. She looked up at Hunter, her black eyeliner streaking down her face. "As long as we open a Bith Dearc and talk to Morgan."
Hunter hesitated, and then nodded. "Very well."
ï¾
Morgan nodded, trying not to look too bored. This guy, an angel, as he called himself, had gone over this one rule twelve times.
He started to go over it again, when she cut him off. "No need to be rude, sir, but I know all these rules. You've been telling me for over an hour."
The black-haired angel looked embarrassed, his blue-purple eyes crinkling with amusement at the same time. "I'm sorry," he said in his lilting Welsh accent. "I get carried away. May I help you down?"
"No, thankyou. I can walk down some stairs."
He laughed and followed her down the stairs to a hallway, which of course was white. WHITE doors lined the hallway, and he picked one with a pentacle etched into it, shivering. "Enjoy, Miss Morgan. Try to help them as much as you can. He bowed Maeve and her daughter through, and then closed the door behind them, locking it with a click.
Morgan wandered through the room, which had a black carpeted floor with so many burns in it was more like a new fad: 'Charred Carpet'. The walls were red, but they had so many burns across them too, it was hard to see which was which.
"At least it's more colourful here."
Maeve smiled, and then urged her daughter past the old over-stuffed black sofas and through the black doorway ahead of them. "This is it."
They walked into a red and orange room, this time so clean, it was almost as clean as heaven, and that was saying something. "This is hell?" Morgan was astounded. "It looks just as nice as—oh my God."
Cal walked through a door into the brightly-coloured room, stopping dead at the sight of Morgan. He suddenly grinned. "Finally died, huh? But you look no different than when I saw you five- hundred years ago."
Morgan stared. "Huh?"
He laughed, throwing back his head to expose whiplash marks on his neck. A few were still bleeding. "Just kidding."
"How can you possibly be so happy here?" Morgan asked incredulously.
"I'm not. This is me on a bad day."
Morgan shook her head, then turned to her mother, who was watching this exchange silently.
"What now?"
"We go and find someone who isn't as happy, and help them out. We have to clear their soul, and then they can go to hell. Frankly, the angles really don't care about Cal and his mother. So they'll probably be stuck halfway for all eternity."
"Oh well," Cal said. "It's better than being stuck in that hellhole, anyway."
"Uh, huh." Maeve took her daughter's arm and took her into a room where a man about Morgan's age was sitting, strumming on a guitar. He looked up at her and shook his head, smiling.
"Another one? Angel Maeve, you promised that Angel Jessica would be the last one. I don't need counselling."
"Angel says you do, so listen to Angel Morgan. She'll help you." Maeve pushed her daughter through the door and shut it behind her. Morgan carefully sat on the floor tailor-style, in front of the man, who had put down his guitar out of curiosity.
"You're new."
Morgan smiled. "How'd you guess? I died last week."
He laughed. "I've been stuck here for three years. I just can't seem to clear my mind enough, but I'm happy here."
Morgan raised an eyebrow. "Yeah, sure. Firstly, what it your name?"
"Jonathan. What a stupid name, I hate it."
"And what sent you here, Jonathan?"
"I accidentally killed my brother in a car accident, and then killed myself."
"That's not it."
"He and I killed my baby sister beforehand, on purpose. We wanted to get out before out father found us, so we stole his car and ran for it. I was driving, and it was raining, and I hit a tree. My head went through the windshield, but I was okay. But Josh had flown from the car over the edge of a cliff. Then I got out and jumped after him."
"I'm so sorry. Everything will get better from today on. Right now I have to go back, today was more like a 'hello, how are you?' thing, so I'd better get going."
"Angel Morgan."
She turned at the doorway, her hand frozen on the doorknob.
"You've already made me feel better. I've never talked to anybody about it."
"Why not?" she asked.
He laughed. "They never asked. Now go home."
A/N: Well, this isn't turning out to be as depressing as I thought. Thankyou so much to the people/person who reviewed. I checked it a school then danced around the library. It was fun. BTW: Thankyou to other people who reviewed for my other stories: if I hadn't got anything from you I wouldn't have continued. I love you guys!
Rest In Peace The funeral didn't last for long, but for Hunter it felt like years. He felt terrible and hollow inside, as if someone had cut him open and pulled all his insides out without using anything to numb his body. It hurt. Badly.
Mary K clung to Sean, sobbing, and Mary Grace just stood wide-eyed, staring at the open coffin with Morgan's body inside. Halfway through, Killian showed up with Sky, both of them silently crying. While everyone was talking amongst themselves quietly, Hunter approached Mary K.
"Sweetheart..."
She threw herself on him, sobbing. "It's not fair!" she cried. "I hate it!!!"
"I know. Morgan told me to tell you that everything will be fine. She loves you, and she believes in you to do anything. She always has."
Mary K looked up at Hunter, wide-eyed. "It was something to do with Wicca, wasn't it?"
Hunter looked away.
Mary K grabbed his shoulders. "What happened?"
"A man sent something here, something called a Dark Wave. It would have wiped out the whole town if Morgan hadn't thrown herself into it. Only someone related to the person who created the Dark Wave could end it. Forever. And she did."
"And she ended her own life in the process," Bree said from behind Mary K. "She left all her friends behind."
"It wasn't her fault. She did it, because if she didn't, she wouldn't have to leave her friends behind, because you'd all be with her, understand?" Hunter asked Bree. "We would have all been dead."
Bree started sobbing, and she leaned into Robbie, almost screaming, "No!!!"
After the funeral, Hunter drove the Rowlands family to his house. They all sat silently in the kitchen as Hunter and Mary K made tea, Mary K's hands shaking so badly she spilt the boiling water all down her front. Daniel walked upstairs and came back with one of Sky's shirts, handing it to Mary K silently. Mary K walked up to the bathroom, where she washed her face and put on the other shirt. As she draped her shirt over the bath, she saw Morgan's jacket draped over the door handle. She put on Sky's white shirt, the put Morgan's black leather jacket on over the top, crying again.
ï¾
Morgan sat at a table with a white tablecloth, in a white room. She looked down at herself. She was covered in veins, all standing out over body. She was wearing a white robe that clung to her body, feeling like nothing was there at all. On the other wall she spotted a mirror. But it wasn't reflecting what the rest of the room was coloured. There were trees, and black blurs. She made her way slowly to the mirror: she felt like she was stepping on glass. She came to the mirror and looked into it. Her family and friends gathered around a wooden coffin, her coffin. The scene switched. It showed Mary K discovering the jacket she'd left in Hunter's bathroom, and crying.
Morgan knew she was dead... and frankly, she didn't care. She watched Hunter walk into his room and curl up on his bed, crying. Now she did care. With a scream, she slammed her fist into the mirror, shattering it.
"There now. We can't have that."
Morgan turned around and saw Maeve Riordan standing front of her. "Ma?"
"I broke the mirror too, when I first came here. Do you like it?"
"What, the mirror? It's broken."
Maeve laughed. "The place, my darling."
"It's white," Morgan stated. "And white. And white."
Maeve laughed and draped her arm around her daughter's shoulders. She smelled like smoke and fire.
"Do I smell like the Dark Wave?" Morgan asked suddenly, feeling her cheeks to find that the veins were pulsing Dark Energy.
"No, hon. You smell like hell."
"Are we in hell?"
"No. We're in heaven. But we go to hell to help people. We're angels, and it's our job. Sometimes we even go to the human realm to watch over people. I watched over you for five years."
"Did you choose to?" Morgan asked.
Maeve laughed. "Yes, I chose to. I wanted to keep an eye on you."
Morgan threw her arms around her mother's waist. "I'm so glad I've got you."
"I know, love. I know."
ï¾
Hunter woke up the next morning, still in his clothes. Ugh. He felt terrible. He would have felt better if Morgan was there. Not even next to him, but safe, asleep in bed at the Rowlands' house. He always felt calm knowing she was just a phone call away. Now she wasn't. She was a lifetime away. With a sigh, he got off his bed and straightened his clothes. He didn't care about getting changed.
--
Alisa Soto sat in her room, thinking. If only she could find a way to speak to Morgan, to apologise... with an exasperated yell she walked downstairs, to find Hilary placing a fat omelette in Alisa's place at the table. "Thankyou," she muttered.
--
Hunter got to Widow's Vale High the same time Janice Yutoh did. Knowing Morgan dated the tall blonde heading towards the school; she hurried up to him and tapped him on the shoulder.
"Where's Morgan?"
Hunter looked at her. "She's dead."
"What??" Janice took a step back, tears welling in her eyes. "What??"
"I'm sorry, Janice. She chose to die."
"She committed suicide??"
"In a way, yes." His eyes were sad. "But, she saved other lives in the process. It was more like a sacrifice."
Janice leaned against her car as Hunter strode of to where Kithic hung out.
As he approached them, the air around his body changed. In fact, this whole area was plagued with this heaviness in the air. He suddenly realised what it was. Pure, bitter sadness. Bree was sitting at the bottom of the steps, engaged in a book he couldn't see the title to. White-hot rage came from her, no sadness at all.
It will come eventually, he told himself. I felt the same when Linden died. I wasn't even sad until everything had been resolved.
"Are you all coming to the circle tomorrow night?"
They all nodded, and then Raven spoke up, her voice wobbly. She looked up at Hunter, her black eyeliner streaking down her face. "As long as we open a Bith Dearc and talk to Morgan."
Hunter hesitated, and then nodded. "Very well."
ï¾
Morgan nodded, trying not to look too bored. This guy, an angel, as he called himself, had gone over this one rule twelve times.
He started to go over it again, when she cut him off. "No need to be rude, sir, but I know all these rules. You've been telling me for over an hour."
The black-haired angel looked embarrassed, his blue-purple eyes crinkling with amusement at the same time. "I'm sorry," he said in his lilting Welsh accent. "I get carried away. May I help you down?"
"No, thankyou. I can walk down some stairs."
He laughed and followed her down the stairs to a hallway, which of course was white. WHITE doors lined the hallway, and he picked one with a pentacle etched into it, shivering. "Enjoy, Miss Morgan. Try to help them as much as you can. He bowed Maeve and her daughter through, and then closed the door behind them, locking it with a click.
Morgan wandered through the room, which had a black carpeted floor with so many burns in it was more like a new fad: 'Charred Carpet'. The walls were red, but they had so many burns across them too, it was hard to see which was which.
"At least it's more colourful here."
Maeve smiled, and then urged her daughter past the old over-stuffed black sofas and through the black doorway ahead of them. "This is it."
They walked into a red and orange room, this time so clean, it was almost as clean as heaven, and that was saying something. "This is hell?" Morgan was astounded. "It looks just as nice as—oh my God."
Cal walked through a door into the brightly-coloured room, stopping dead at the sight of Morgan. He suddenly grinned. "Finally died, huh? But you look no different than when I saw you five- hundred years ago."
Morgan stared. "Huh?"
He laughed, throwing back his head to expose whiplash marks on his neck. A few were still bleeding. "Just kidding."
"How can you possibly be so happy here?" Morgan asked incredulously.
"I'm not. This is me on a bad day."
Morgan shook her head, then turned to her mother, who was watching this exchange silently.
"What now?"
"We go and find someone who isn't as happy, and help them out. We have to clear their soul, and then they can go to hell. Frankly, the angles really don't care about Cal and his mother. So they'll probably be stuck halfway for all eternity."
"Oh well," Cal said. "It's better than being stuck in that hellhole, anyway."
"Uh, huh." Maeve took her daughter's arm and took her into a room where a man about Morgan's age was sitting, strumming on a guitar. He looked up at her and shook his head, smiling.
"Another one? Angel Maeve, you promised that Angel Jessica would be the last one. I don't need counselling."
"Angel says you do, so listen to Angel Morgan. She'll help you." Maeve pushed her daughter through the door and shut it behind her. Morgan carefully sat on the floor tailor-style, in front of the man, who had put down his guitar out of curiosity.
"You're new."
Morgan smiled. "How'd you guess? I died last week."
He laughed. "I've been stuck here for three years. I just can't seem to clear my mind enough, but I'm happy here."
Morgan raised an eyebrow. "Yeah, sure. Firstly, what it your name?"
"Jonathan. What a stupid name, I hate it."
"And what sent you here, Jonathan?"
"I accidentally killed my brother in a car accident, and then killed myself."
"That's not it."
"He and I killed my baby sister beforehand, on purpose. We wanted to get out before out father found us, so we stole his car and ran for it. I was driving, and it was raining, and I hit a tree. My head went through the windshield, but I was okay. But Josh had flown from the car over the edge of a cliff. Then I got out and jumped after him."
"I'm so sorry. Everything will get better from today on. Right now I have to go back, today was more like a 'hello, how are you?' thing, so I'd better get going."
"Angel Morgan."
She turned at the doorway, her hand frozen on the doorknob.
"You've already made me feel better. I've never talked to anybody about it."
"Why not?" she asked.
He laughed. "They never asked. Now go home."