Her street was silent, foreboding. Phoebe felt her scalp prickle as she walked along, as though there were eyes watching from the boarded up windows of the desolate houses. Phoebe stopped when she reached the manor, heart sinking.

The door hung off one hinge, creaking sadly in the wind. Windows were shattered, and possessions scattered the lawn, bright colours long faded from the sun and rain. She recognized Pipers green top hanging from a bush as she crept up the drive. There was no sign of the cars that once sat there. She slipped through the front door, foreboding humming through every vein.

Through the dark, she could see the wreckage of all her and her sisters' things littering the floor. Most of the furniture, the rugs, knickknacks...gone. "Piper?" she called out plaintively. Her voice sounded hollow in the empty space, echoing in the lonely house. "Paige?"

Silence.

Phoebe crept up the stairs, side stepping the gapping holes that riddled the woodwork. The strong smell of mould hit her, and she coughed. The house was shadowed in darkness, and the only sound was the soft moan of wind coming through the front door. It looked as though it had been abandoned for years.

Peeking into their rooms, she saw the same signs of destruction. Nearly all the possessions had been looted, the rest destroyed. Her sisters were long gone. She wandered through the house. Everything was in the same state of disrepair.

At last, she was in the attic. It was in near darkness, only a small shaft of watery light drifting through the boarded up window. Something crackled under her feet as she walked, making her nerves jump. She squinted through the gloom. Paper, spread over the entire floor. She bent down and picked up a sheet.

Warding Spell

Her heart leapt to her throat. She grabbed the yellow sheets of paper frantically. Fire Demons...Expelling Pixies...Illusion charms... In her hands she held the tattered remains of the book of shadows.

The pieces of paper slipped from her fingers. Everything...It's gone she thought numbly. Her sisters, their stuff...even the book of shadows had been destroyed. She was alone.

Night fell, and the cold, dead world seemed to come alive. Snarls and harsh laughter slipped into the house from the streets. Peeking through a window, Phoebe saw bands of demons wandering through the streets, some bearing flaming torches, reminding her forcefully of the peasants of medieval movies. She crept back to her room and fell into a fitful sleep, with dreams that were long and confusing. She thought she had woken in the night to see a dark shape standing nearby, but the image was lost by the time she woke.

Sunlight flitted shyly through the house, and the sounds of brawling demons had faded away. The door slamming shut woke Phoebe instantly from her slumber. There was the sound of clopping feet, then deathly Silence.

"Who's There?" called a voice sharply, a slight hiss in the undertone. Phoebe lay still, listening intently, heart beating like a jack hammer.

"I know there's someone here. Come out and I might let you live." The slap of feet changed as the intruder started to climb the stairs. Phoebe crept quickly behind the door. They were right outside.

"Now, what's behind door number one?" The stalker stepped into the room. Long fair hair ran like a shower of gold down the woman's back, glinting as brightly as the sword in her hand. Phoebe tensed, then slammed the door into the woman's face. With a shocked squall she fell to the ground, her weapon clattering to the ground.

Grabbing the sword, Phoebe placed against the demons throat. There was no mistaking her for anything else. Glowing blue eyes cold as flint glared at her. Her nose twitched, and she snarled one word. "Witch!"

"That's right." said Phoebe, matching the demons cold look with her own. "Why are you here?" The demon glared contemptuously at her and kept its mouth shut. It growled slightly as phoebe pressed the blade harder, a drop of green blood sliding across its polished surface.

"I'm have a really, really bad day. Don't piss me off." snapped Phoebe. The woman looked her sullenly and spoke.

"This is my place. What are you doing here?"

What? Things weren't adding up.

The demon began to inch away, but she snapped into focus and the sword zipped back to the demons throat. She had no idea to put the hundreds of thoughts roaring in her head into words. Except one.

"Where are they?"

"Who?" asked the woman curtly, eyeing the weapon at her neck.

"Piper and Paige Halliwell. The Charmed ones!" The demon snorted with laughter.

"Oh, they're long gone." she said with a chuckle. "Who knows where they are now?"

Phoebe stemmed the urge to decapitate the demon in an attempt the erase that smirk from her face. Instead, she rapped the woman on the temple with the flat of the blade. She groaned, and then fainted. Phoebe threw the sword and left her home. It didn't feel very welcoming anymore.

Once she was on the street, Phoebe stopped. Where could she go? She was alone in a strange, dangerous world. For a while she just wandered in a daze, past swaggering demons and slaving humans. The cloak was hot under the red sky, but she dared not take it off.

She stopped for a rest, leaning against an old streetlight. She felt numb all over. There was a distant crack to her left. Her head jerked, and she saw another slave train. This one was not nearly as long, and there was only one demon, a fat sweaty looking specimen. The slaves here were in much worse shape, walking corpses. He lumbered after then, yelling threats and cracking his whip loudly. They shuffled away, chains clanking.

Behind them, the hooded figure leaning against a lampost straightened and began to follow.