"Raaaaaveeen!" Clarke screamed, stomping her feet down on the floor, tears threatening to spill down her cheeks.
"What - what is it?!" Raven barreled into the slightly unfurnished attic. The only things contained in the attic was a dusty couch and the sister's playthings.
"Spider!" The middle sister shouted, pointing at the 8 legged creature climbing up the wood-paneled walls of the attic.
Raven scoffed, making her way over to the insect. "You just turned 13 and you're still scared of spiders?" Raven questioned, picking up the creature by one of it's legs and placing it into the palm of her own hand, letting it crawl around for a bit.
Clarke backed away from Raven, scared her older sister was going to throw the spider at her. "Just get rid of it!" she screamed, wiping the tears away from her face.
The eldest sister scoffed once more, pushing open a window. She stuck her hand out into the cold winter air and let the spider crawl down her fingers and onto the side of the house.
Clarke sniffed up the rest of her tears. "Stop crying, brat." Raven shot her a playful smile, placing her arm over Clarke's shoulder and pulling her younger sister close to her. "You want some hot cocoa?"
Clarke nodded with a slight smile, "Come, on brat." Raven teased, leading her sister out of the attic.
Friday the 13th. The date brought a devilish grin to the man's face. He stood in the middle of a vacant street, the light of the moon illuminating only half of his face. The time was exactly 12:01am, he had only 24 hours, he'd better get started.
The man titled his neck to the side, allowing the strained muscles to crack and loosen up. His fingers traced across the dark skin of his arm before making their way up to the gray stubble surrounding his chin. He had surely aged since the last 1300 years he had walked the earth.
He peered around, his next target couldn't be too far away from here. He could almost smell the fear coming from her - a woman alone at midnight in this scary town. The man's feet led him to the source of the sweet aroma, he could faintly make out the sign of the store the woman was locking up, "The Wicca Store".
"Closing so soon?" he questioned through his maniacal grin.
The words made the woman jump. "Jesus christ, where the hell did you come from?"
"Your worst nightmares." The man's maniacal grin spread even farther across his aging face. Oh how he lived for these moments, the smell of fear, the cat and mouse chase, and the inevitable sight of death whenever he came around. The man was getting giddy and slightly impatient at the thought of his first kill in thirteen hundred years. "Unlock. The. Door." he growled, pushing his much larger body closer to the woman's, her face nearly squishing into the glass door of her Wicca shop.
The woman fumbled with the keys, although she wasn't too sure what the man wanted from her. Her mind immediately ran to the thought of her store being robbed by the dark-skinned man, but if so he had chosen a terrible place to rob, for her shop was loosing business rapidly. But then there was the frightening idea that this man could have been a much larger evil - a demon. She wondered why he had targeted her, for she was a weak witch with no active power.
The keys jangled in the woman's hand as the door slid open. The man pushed the woman into the store and down to the ground with little to no effort. The woman landed on the floor with a thud, "Who are you? What do you want?" She pleaded "I have no money!"
The man chuckled. "I'm not here for your money" he whispered menacingly, waving a hand over the woman before bringing his hand up to his own face, reading his palm. The man frowned, "This was too easy..." his voice trailed off. "Fire, is your biggest fear?" he questioned with pity, but he already knew the answer. The man clasped his hands together and immediately a display table with various wiccan objects burst into flames.
The woman screamed when her eyes landed on the fire, her worst fears seemingly coming to life. She tried to scurry away, but was paralyzed with fear. The only thing she could do was stare as the flames spread throughout her store.
"Thelonious." The man barked at her. "That's who I am..." his voice was quiet over the loud roar and crackle of the fire. The burning objects fell off the display and tumbled to the floor, creating new trails of fire on the carpet. Thelonious glided out of the burning store, leaving the paralyzed woman on the floor to burn to death.
"1 down. 12 more to go." Thelonious mumbled as he walked into the vacant street and into the terror of the night.
It had been two weeks since the three sister's power had been reawakened. Two weeks since the sisters assumed their roles as Charmed Ones - protectors of the innocent, vanquishers of evil. Two weeks since their bond infused with the magic traveling amongst their blood created the most powerful magic known in the universe - the power of three.
In an attempt to try and merge back into the normal world - the sisters had all gotten new jobs. Raven had an interview at a new auto garage, Clarke got a job waitressing at a restaurant and Octavia was going to start a professional photography gig.
The sisters came to the realization that they needed to be extra cautious with their magic and with the spells they cast. The truth spell didn't do exactly what they wanted to do, instead it backfired and caused the sisters to unleash some secrets behind closed doors, secrets that were meant to stay secrets.
There was also some awkward space between the sisters, Bellamy and Finn especially after finding out that Finn was also a witch and they all shared Bellamy as their whitelighter. But, it was essential that the sisters try and to push past their personal feelings in order to be careful what with the darklighter that attacked just last week.
"Has Clarke left already?" Raven asked, wandering into the kitchen.
Octavia nodded, shoving a spoonful of cereal into her mouth. "You're looking very professional."
Raven had her dark brown hair tied up into a formal bun. She was wearing a nice blouse with some dress pants and professional looking flats - she hated heels. "I feel like I'm overdressed, I'm interviewing at a garage not a corporate business."
"Well you look hot." Octavia complimented her sister, itching at the skin of her right arm which previously had a cast covering it for the past two weeks. She had only gotten the plaster trap removed yesterday, and way beyond happy that there was no awkward tan line. "Plus it's always better to be overdressed than underdressed." That was something their grandmother always said.
Raven shrugged her shoulders in agreement. "What time is that photography appointment?" Raven asked, referring to the man who had answered Octavia's photo shooting ad.
"Couple hours." Octavia answered with excitement over her first gig. "The guy said he wants me to shoot some photos for a special project he has."
"Be careful, O." Raven warned. "Tons of creeps out there."
"I'm a witch, remember." Octavia took another bite of cereal. "I can handle a couple creeps."
Raven shook her head, "Okay, I've got to get going. Call me if you need anything." Raven rushed out of the kitchen with a cup of coffee in one hand while she adjusted her blouse with the other.
"Good luck!" Octavia called out with her mouth full.
Clarke rushed around the restaurant's kitchen trying to remember which dishes were going where. She had only been working at the 1950's themed diner for three days and she already wanted to quit.
"Why are there so many people here, it's 1 o clock." The middle sister muttered under her breathe wiping the sweat from her forehead off on her apron.
"Clarke!" the voice bellowed. Clarke flinched, almost dropping two dishes.
"Yes Mr. Gallows?" Clarke responded. Mr. Gallows was the head chef and also Clarke's boss.
"You're taking too long with these orders!" He yelled at her, rushing over to where the sister was panicking over dishes. Mr. Gallows was a hairy and hefty man who sweated a lot, he was only about 10 years older than Clarke, but looked as if he was 50.
Clarke apologized furiously but it was already too late, Mr. Gallows stood behind her, nagging her, commanding her, and rudely trying to tell to her which dishes were going where. Clarke could feel his hot breathe down her neck and could feel his spit landing on her hair and face. Her clumsy hands fumbled with the dishes, eliciting more and more shouts from Mr. Gallows.
"Please stop yelling at me." Clarke's whispered pleas only elicited more barks and screams from her boss. Eventually Clarke couldn't take it anymore, she turned on her heels, took a deep breathe and with raised hands, she clenched her hands into a fist and then quickly unclenched. With her now open hands, her invisible magic flew out of her fingertips and froze her boss into place.
Clarke exhaled, hoping her stress would blow away with her breathe. She wiped away the strands of hair from her eyes as she spoke quiet motivation to herself, "Okay, Clarke. You can do this." There was an eerie silence that drifted through the kitchen as Clarke racked up the dishes, making mental notes to what was going where. The second she left the kitchen and entered into the dining area, her boss unfroze and finished his screaming, only to notice that Clarke was already gone.
Raven slid her resume across the desk, shifting uncomfortably in her seat - this outfit was definitely not working for her.
Across from her, the man who sat behind the glass desk took the manilla folder into his hands. Peering with his almost too green eyes at the resume held within, his nose wrinkling as he spoke, "You were fired from your last job, why?"
Raven cleared her throat, "Well, they accused me of stealing things." She plastered on the best smile she could possibly muster up, "Of course I didn't steal anything..." Raven explained, giving off a nervous chuckle. "But the boss... was kind of my ex-boyfriend, so it was a little biased."
"I see..." The man spoke, his voice trailing off as he took another look at the resume.
The television that hung from one of the corners of the man's office roared to life. "Damn it..." the man muttered as his fingers ran across the desk, looking for the remote. There was a news flash that caught Raven's attention. The sight of a burning Wicca store made the eldest sister gasp. The man was just about to turn the television off when Raven held up a hand to stop him.
"Hold on a second." Her voice was quiet as her eyes were glued to the screen above her. The newscaster confirmed that one woman was dead, and firefighters couldn't find a cause to the fire.
Then there was a man who appeared before the camera, he looked no older than Raven, his hair was blonde and his skin was pale. He was a detective, his name - Kyle Wick. His voice was low as he spoke into the microphone.
"The official cause of death was a heart attack, not the fire. The woman was found with her hair having turned pure white. It seems as if fear got to her before the flames could. If anyone knows anything about this, feel free to contact the department." His name and number flashed at the bottom of the screen. Raven had just made a mental note of the number before the television powered down.
"Okay, back to the interview." The man placed the remote back down on his desk, "I think you're qualified. When can you start?" He questioned, extending his hand for Raven to shake, his smile revealing pearly whites that reminded her of Richard.
"Uhh..." the sister's voice was distant as she thought of the fire and the woman whose fear had killed her.
"Tomorrow." she mumbled, shaking her head in order to push herself back into reality. Raven's hand made contact with the man's as she gave him a weak handshake. She stood from her seat and fumbled with her purse. "I have to go, thanks for the job." Raven rushed out of the office and into the daylight.
