I am so so so sorry for the massively long wait for this chapter but things have been a bit hectic with the college term starting again...I promise I won't take this long again!
Thank u to Sparkling Cherries, tima, Mellaithwen and Nathy1000000 for reviewing!
Chapter 4: Beneath A Red Sky
Chris grasped at the thick stone arch, his fingers hooking into the carved ledges. His head was spinning.
Wyatt was the new source.
Wyatt?
"We attack NOW!"
The words were still echoing across the cavernous chamber as if a thousand voices were shouting them.
The air was rippling around Wyatt as the circle of demons shimmered out to relay their orders.
'This can't be happening.' The words repeated themselves into meaninglessness over and over in Chris's head. He felt detached from reality as the clamour of his almost unintelligible pleading overcame him.
Chris felt his knees give way as he sank to the floor, the unforgiving cold seeping through his trousers.
He felt a searing pain at Wyatt's betrayal. Wyatt was evil. It hadn't been long since he had lost his mother and aunts and now he had lost Wyatt too.
Wyatt's cold voice echoed throughout Chris's brain as his final words came into focus. Wyatt had said, "We attack now."
Attack?
As the information about the impending attack filtered through into Chris's awareness a crystal clear voice cut through his incoherent thoughts.
"Chris!"
-----
Wyatt stood alone as the last of the demons shimmered out. Or…was he alone?
A faint presence registered on the edge of Wyatt's awareness, almost completely suppressed by his concentration on his plan.
By nightfall all of San Francisco would bow down to him. And there would be nobody to stop him.
His thoughts on victory, Wyatt strode out of the cavern, the whispered presence completely forgotten.
-----
Aaron was hurriedly adjusting his tie in the hall mirror, while casting worried glances at the clock. He had to be at work early today and was already running late.
His eyes found the minute hand edging dangerously close to the half past mark on the clock and he allowed himself one last glance at his tie, his hand already reaching for his briefcase.
What he saw in the mirror made him freeze.
His briefcase tumbled to the floor from numb fingers.
There was a demon in his hallway.
Aaron spun around, his mouth moving in silent prayer.
He had never seen a demon before. Despite being a witch, Aaron chose to ignore his witch heritage and live fully in the non-magical world.
An evil-sounding gurgling laugh spilt from the demon's lips as his face lit up in anticipation.
This would be an easy kill.
But it had to be a slow kill. They were his orders.
The demon approached slowly, powering up a reasonably low powered energy ball. A taunting grin spread across its face, revelling in his victim's terror.
Aaron broke free from his paralysis and attempted to make a dash to the door.
The demon growled in annoyance and let the energy ball fly.
A burning force hit Aaron's back, throwing him through the air to crash into the bookcase by the door.
The bookcase splintered, shards of wood penetrating his skin.
Blinding pain dulled his vision and he could feel blood dribbling down his mouth. He tried to take in a breath but could only hear a bubbling sound and taste the bitter tang of blood.
A bright white light surrounded his eyes. 'Am I dying?' he wondered.
The orbs reformed into a tall Whitelighter, her violet eyes filled with compassion. "It's okay." she whispered to Aaron, her hands reaching out to heal.
"Ha ha ha…" the demon's strange gurgling laugh sounded again, causing the Whitelighter to look up.
A swarm of black orbs were coalescing.
Her eyes opened wide in shock as a black arrow shot forward out of the newly formed crossbow and lodged itself in her heart.
Tendrils of cold quickly spread across her chest and incapacitated her limbs. She collapsed on the floor next to her dying charge as the demon and darklighter exchanged satisfied nods.
"One more down." the Whitelighter heard the silky tones of the darklighter through the black haze that was filling her mind.
Silence descended on the house as demon and darklighter left to attack their next targets.
-----
"Chris!"
Prue stood with her hands on her hips, waiting impatiently for the shining orbs that would announce the arrival of her cousin.
Sheila was seated on the sofa, her hands over her mouth in horror and her eyes glued to the morning news.
The news was terrifying.
The sombre newsreader was informing the residents of San Francisco that almost one hundred people had been reported as being murdered this morning and more reports were coming in by the minute.
But that wasn't the worst of it.
The murders had been committed by demons.
Darryl had been called into his office early in the morning and had been relaying as much information as he could to them. So far although the murders were both gruesome and unexplainable, no-one had suggested that non-humans had committed them. According to Darryl the leading theory was a terrorist attack, although the evidence for that was understandably sketchy.
"Chris! For God's sake where are you? Chris!"
Sheila looked up from the TV, her face worried, "You don't think he's…" she trailed off, unsure of how to put it, "You know…involved…" she tried again.
'Has he been attacked?' The thought swam round Prue's head but she shook her head determinedly. "Chris!"
Nothing.
"Maybe he's in the underworld?" Sheila suggested, grasping onto something that made sense.
Prue shook her head, "He can hear me call from there." she explained, "Both him and Wyatt, I don't know why, maybe something to do with them being only half whitelighter."
Prue let out a snort of exasperation. "Chris!" she yelled at the top of her voice.
For a moment, nothing happened.
Then a few bright orbs floated into the room, followed by the rest of the blue-white lights.
The room was lit up briefly as Chris orbed in but Prue and Sheila's relieved expressions were quickly replaced by worry at Chris dishevelled appearance.
"What happened?"
-----
The Overworld was a mass of confused activity; Elders milling aimlessly around with no sense of purpose; whitelighters confused as to whether to answer their charges desperate calls.
Leo stood in the main chamber, all the noise falling deaf on his ears. He could only hear one voice repeated over and over in his head. Wyatt's.
"You don't control me anymore."
Leo could still see his eldest son's gentle eyes contorted with evil, his face drawn back in a snarl, as he uttered those words.
"It's all about the power. Good and evil don't exist."
'Where did I go so wrong?' Leo thought miserably, 'How could this have happened?'
His senses dimly registered the death of another whitelighter.
'Why is he doing this?'
Then a harder thought steeled Leo.
'I am an Elder.'
'I once said I was a father first but in actuality I was always an Elder first.'
'Now is the time to act like an Elder.'
'I need to stop this bloodshed.'
Determined now, Leo strode out of the chamber and began issuing instructions for all whitelighters to remain in the Overworld.
"We'll be condemning our charges to death!" one whitelighter exclaimed, outraged at the order.
"And how many have you saved so far?" retorted Leo harshly, "Every whitelighter who has gone to help a charge has been killed alongside them. The witches are dying anyway. We need to protect ourselves now so that we can continue to serve the greater good. Sacrifices must be made."
Leo watched as his orders were carried out. 'Our losses have been too many.' he thought saddened; 'This has wounded us deeply.'
-----
Prue sank down into a chair. "No." she whispered.
Chris nodded, his face harsh yet sad. "I saw him. Wyatt. Ordering the attack."
"He did this? He created this?"
Prue felt tears spring to her eyes. "I know that he'd left us. That he'd changed. But…how could he do this? How could he have changed so much?"
"He was so different." Chris agreed, "Cold, harsh, domineering."
"What can we do?" Sheila asked quietly.
Chris shrugged. "We can't stop it." he admitted painfully, "There are too many of them. The whole of the underworld is fighting in one way or another."
"Why?" Prue eyes met Chris's, "Why?"
Chris could only shake his head, "I don't know."
-----
"My Lord, whitelighters are no longer coming."
Wyatt felt his jaw tense at the report. He had expected this but not so soon. He needed to destroy enough whitelighters so that the Elders would be unable to thwart him. So that their numbers would be so few they would have to retreat and regroup, by which time Wyatt's grasp on San Francisco would be so tight that to destroy that would be to destroy the city.
Wyatt clenched his fists.
'I know who did this.'
Who else could it be? Wyatt narrowed his eyes and a tentative beginning of a solution began to form in his mind. There was only one way this could be resolved.
Wyatt opened his hands and spread them in front of him. They had been stained with so much blood that one more death would make no noticeable difference, but…
To kill his own blood.
That was different.
Leo had never been much of a dad, especially to Chris, but Leo was his father.
'I said I would let nothing stand in my way.' thought Wyatt grimly, 'so it's time to do what I have to.'
'I will not let him stand in my way.'