"No one in the world has the power to stop me now." Willow had felt so confident. Invincible. She grinned wickedly as she stared at the fallen Buffy and Anya across the room.
"How about the Power of Three?" A strong female voice boomed. Suddenly an invisible force flung Willow across the room. She slammed into a wooden bookcase and fell onto the Magic Box floor with a loud thud. She looked up in shock, and mounting rage.
"Who-?" She roared, then broke off.
Standing before her several feet away were three women. But they can't just be women—they must be witches, thought Willow furiously.
"Who the hell are you?" she snarled.
One of the women with black hair, dressed in leather black pants stepped forward. She seemed to be the leader of the group.
"I'm Prue Halliwell, and this is Phoebe," she gestured to the young woman on the left, "and this is Piper," Prue finished, pointing to the last woman with long dark hair that flowed down over her shoulders. "We're the Charmed Ones." She added, grinning.
"The Charmed Ones? What are you talking about?" Willow demanded, resisting the urge to kill the three right away.
"Oh, you haven't heard of us? That's new. Most witches know." Phoebe said, surprised.
"Basically, we're just witches with different powerful, uh, powers. Like levitation, freezing, telekinesis, stuff like that. We kick bad guy ass. Demons, warlocks, you name it." Piper explained.
"Oh well, ain't that swell?" Willow muttered sarcastically.
"Yep, and our Whitelighter, Leo, heard from the Powers That Be that you were causing some big trouble here in Sunnydale, so we decided to drop in. That's our job. Saving the world, etc. etc." Prue said.
"Well, its been fun, but I've got places to go, people to kill. And you're standing in my way." Willow hissed. She leapt up, black eyes gleaming. She bounded forward towards the three witches, but they were on guard. Phoebe jumped up and levitated up into the air. With a shift kick in the face, she sent Willow hurtling backwards into a table. Willow, now thoroughly pissed off, let out a roar and again got back up. Her arms shot out and she pointed them at Phoebe.
"Aimess Volsana," she whispered under her breath, and the magical energy in her hands crackled. Fire streamed out of her fingers and shot through the air towards Phoebe. Phoebe was too quick, though. She executed a perfect back flip just as the flames flew under her. Landing firmly on her high heeled feet, she smirked. Then she gasped for air as her throat tightened—she couldn't breath. Through the haze that fogged her vision she saw Willow, hands outstretched towards her, smiling grimly. Prue and Piper were also under Willow's power. They couldn't move—they were frozen in place unable to save their little sister. Buffy, on the floor behind Willow, snapped out of her shock and leapt up. She quickly snuck up on the unsuspecting Willow and kicked her as hard as she could in her side with a snap. Prue, now no longer under Willow's control, flung her hand out and sent Willow spinning into the counter, who landed with a fatal crash. Prue and Piper rushed over to Phoebe, who was on her knees, wheezing and trembling.
"Phoebe, omigod, are you okay?" Piper asked, panicking.
Phoebe, the pain wearing away, rubbed her eyes and blinked. Across the room, Anya got up moaning and shuffled over to a chair, sitting down shakily.
"You okay?" Prue asked Anya.
"Oh, never better," Anya grimaced. Prue grinned.
Piper frowned, casting a look over at the unconscious Willow. With a flick of her hands she froze Willow. "Just in case." She said, glancing at Prue, then Buffy.