Two chapters in one day! I gotta say, I'm pretty proud of myself. :)
I should actually be studying for exams right now, but this is so much more fun, you know?
Well, here's the next chapter! Enjoy it!
-Christianne
Nikki POV
"What are you guys even looking for?" I asked, following Sam and Dean into the basement. They had insisted on going down again before they left. I definitely wasn't opposed to them staying a little longer, but the basement was kind of an odd place to hang out.
"Anything witchy." Dean called from the back corner, where he was quickly sifting through some of the old papers on the workbench. Sam nodded in agreement, lifting the lid on a trunk. I sighed, and wandered around the basement. According to Sam, my little witch friend had knocked out the electricity, and gratefully let it come back.
"So...Is there anything I should know, being the reincarnation of a witch?" I asked, opening a trunk of my own.
"You know just about as much as we do. We've never met up with a witch who was...a-a witch...genetically." Sam said, frowning a bit at his poor word choice.
"And not crazy as hell," Dean added, pushing a bookcase to one side.
"Oh..." I mumbled, leaning against the wall across from him, mildly insulted.
"Sam!" Dean called suddenly. "Help me move this!" I stayed put as the boys moved the heavy wooden work bench a few feet from the wall. I couldn't help but grin as I saw the wooden door that had been hidden under it. I grabbed a flashlight from one of the shelves and waited until Dean opened the door to slip between them, flashlight in hand.
"Whoa whoa whoa," Dean said, putting a hand on my shoulder to stop me, my feet already on the first rung. "What are you doing?"
"Going into the secret passage in my basement." I said.
"We have no idea what's down there," Sam said, his eyes were relatively blank, but a small amount of concern was in them. "Let us clear it."
I just rolled my eyes. "I'm the one with the flashlight and, last time I checked, this was my house, so…I'm gonna go." I jerked out of Dean's grip and continued down the ladder.
Once I had both my feet on the floor, about ten feet below the basement, I looked around the room, or, what I could see of it. I moved the beam of my flashlight around, but frowned, I couldn't see five feet in front of me, even with a flashlight.
"Nikki?" Sam called down. "What do you see?"
"Nothing to exciting, c'mon down," I yelled back up, still moving my beam around to try and see the rest of the room.
Seconds later, both brothers were standing with me in the square of light in the dark room.
"It's weird..." I trailed off, moving my beam around a bit towards the darkness. Sam caught my eye and gave me a questioning look. "Well, the light from my flashlight should hit the back wall, right? It doesn't." Dean picked up a rock, weighed it in his hand, wound his arm back and threw it into the darkness. There was a good three seconds before it hit anything.
"Hinky..." I mumbled, frowning. I let Sam take the flashlight, and I put my hand on the wall right next to the ladder. I kept my hand on the wall as I walked out of the light, and into darkness so black and deep I couldn't see my hand an inch from my face.
"Nikki?" I heard Sam yell, sounding a bit surprised. "Nikki!" He yelled, this time sounding concerned.
"Over here! I'm fine," I called back, but kept walking through the darkness.
"Where the hell are you?" I heard Dean yell.
"I'm fine! Relax!" I snapped at both Sam and Dean.
I paused when my hand on the wall hit something cold, raised up from the rest of the stone wall. I kept that hand on the wall and used my other hand to follow what felt like a pipe up to what would have been eye level. It came up, like half a bowl flat against the wall, the cup of it protruding out. I reached over the lip of the bowl, and the tips of my fingers where met with a cold liquid. The second my fingers brushed the surface of the liquid, the room exploded with light.
I heard Sam and Dean say something, but I wasn't listening, I was following the copper pipe, the one that I followed to the half bowl, up to the ceiling, where it met a copper tray-like thing that sat five inches or so from the ceiling and held bright orange and red flames.
"Huh." I said simply. I looked at the few drops on the tips of my fingers. It didn't feel like oil, I hesitantly sniffed it. It wasn't gas...Looked like water...
I turned around and took in the room. Dean was looking at the wall of weapons across from me, he looked like he was trying hard to be serious, but was excited to see so many old, unique weapons. Sam was focusing on the wall of bookcases on the far back wall, across from the ladder. There was a thick, plush looking blue rug on the floor, a low, round table in its center, three chairs on one side of it and a sofa, its back to the ladder, on the other. I couldn't help but smile as I went to the desk a few feet from me. This was just too cool.
"This...This looks like some heavy stuff," Sam said, looking up from one of the books. "Not...bad, necessarily." He added quickly when he saw Dean's 'Should we burn this place down?' sort of look. "It's just...complicated."
I looked over his shoulder, and frowned. "What do you mean complicated?" I asked.
"It's...I-I can't understand any of this," he admitted. Dean stalked over and took the book from his brother, he scowled and shoved it back.
"Is that even English?" He asked, going back to pick up one of the rifles he'd been looking at. Sam shrugged. I kept looking at the shotgun. It had to be pre-Civil War, there was only room for a single bullet, but post-Revolutionary War; with the lack of bayonet.
I picked up a thinner, dustier book on one of the bottom shelves. There was a Roman Numeral 1 on the leather spine. I opened it up to the first page.
Written by Lady Ursula Abernathy (née Howard)
1790
Grimoire I.
"Grimoire..." I mumbled, flipping to the next page.
Levitation
Contrary to what garden variety witches claim, levitation is one of the basic skills a witch must master in order to advance to more complicated incantations and spells.
It is a skill that links heavily to concentration and will. As well as saying the incantation, a witch must truly will the object of concentration. It is in the best interest of those around a witch practicing this skill if they are warned beforehand, and are not the object of concentration.
Levitating alive beings is best saved for when a witch has had more experience.
Levo a et
"Levo a et," I mumbled, trying out the words as I flipped to a new page.
"Son of a bitch!" Dean yelped, soon followed by a thud. I whipped my head up and saw Dean somewhat collapsed on the floor, half sitting on one of the chairs. His face was completely surprised, almost scared. Sam was just frozen, wide eyed like his brother as they stared at the rifle hovering five feet from the floor.
"It-It just flew out of my hands!" Dean said, scrambling to his feet. I didn't say anything, I just looked in the grimoire again.
When I looked back up a minute later, the rifle was still hovering in the air and Dean and Sam where staring at it in shock.
"Hey," I called, making them look at me. "I'd move." I said simply. They looked at me oddly, but each took a few strides back. I hesitantly extended my hand, palm facing out like the grimoire described.
"Nikki..." Sam said slowly, sounding worried. "What are you doing?"
"Shh!" I hissed, glancing at the grimoire before focusing on the shotgun again. "Iustum." I said slowly, focusing on the word.
The rifle flew through the air, slamming into Dean's chest to the right. He stumbled back a few feet, grabbing the shotgun that was crushed to his chest. He let out a groan of pain, then looked at me, then the rifle, before throwing it back on the table.
"What the hell?" Dean yelled, eyes wide in shock. "
"Did-Did you do that?" Sam asked, looking at me with those eyes…They were like two kaleidoscopes of the prettiest shades of blues with hints of a hazel-y brown. The fire light made them look molten.
"Uh...Yeah," I said, not looking at them.
"You can read these?" Sam asked, gesturing to the grimoire in my hands.
"Yeah." I said again, stunned.
"It doesn't make any sense." He went on, still reading over my shoulder. I ducked my head closer to the grimoire, he was so close. I could almost feel him leaning against my back.
"How'd you know how to pronounce anything?" Sam pressed, looking at me inquisitively.
"Uh...I-I just knew." I mumbled, causing Dean and Sam to share a look, and Dean to shrug.
"…Freaky as hell…" Dean grumbled, taking the rifle again, holding it up as if to fire it.