Post by StoryGirl83 on Sept 21, 2013 23:07:37 GMT -5
Chapter Twenty - One Spell at a Time
Victor reached the manor and pulled into the driveway. It had been so long since he last came here. It had been too dangerous. And now here he was.
Dean was out of the car almost before it stopped and almost to the backyard by the time Victor had it off and his belt undone. He ran around the back and ignoring everyone else dropped to his brother’s side and shook him. “Come on, Sammy boy. Wake up! Wake up, d**nit! You have to wake up.”
Wyatt stared at him bemused.
“Does that answer your question?” Victor asked, coming up behind his grandsons.
Wyatt nodded and inclined his head in the direction of the manor.
Chris turned around and gave Victor a hug.
Looking over his younger grandson’s head, Victor’s eyes widened at the sight of his oldest daughter standing just inside. “Prudence.”
Prue smiled. “Hi, Dad. It’s really good to see you.”
“Really?” Things had been more of a tentative truce before she died.
She grinned and nodded. “Really.”
“Why are you still inside?” Victor asked as he approached the door.
“Don’t come any closer,” she warned.
Victor stopped and frowned.
“The demon’s gone,” she conceded, “but the spells the demon cast are still intact. We’re trying to find a way to counter them, so we can get out of her, but so far nothing has worked.
“I think we’re going to just have to wait until Christy wakes up,” Prue admitted, “and hope she knows what kind of spells the demon cast.”
“Well, I don’t care about a demon now that it’s gone,” Dean declared. “Why won’t my brother wake up? What was that demon?”
Prue snorted. “Make up your mind. Either you care or you don’t.”
“Fine,” Dean said rising. “I care. Are you happy? My brother doesn’t get knocked out when he fights demons that possess people. That’s easy for him. So what was different about this one?”
“Not knowing what you are usually up against and not having spoken to him . . . at all,” Prue began, “I have no way of knowing. All I know is that this one possessed a witch named Christy for seven years and when you brother did . . . whatever it was that he did he fought with a black smoke coming out of her mouth for several minutes.”
Dean grimaced. “Anything else?”
“The demon was pretty mad at my sisters for vanquishing the Woogie in the basement,” Prue informed him.
“The . . . what?” Dean stared at her. “Is that some sort of demon?”
“You have a little brother,” Prue stated. “Well, my baby sister decided that the demon in the basement was the boogey monster. Except my little sister couldn’t say ‘Boogey Monster’ at the time, so it became ‘Woogie Monster’ and that got shortened to . . .”
“Woogie,” Dean finished. “Weird.”
A moan from Sam had Dean running to his side. “Come on, Sammy.”
Sam blinked open his eyes and looked up. “Dean?”
“Sam!” Dean exclaimed, thankfully. “You’re awake!”
Sam stared at him in disbelief. “Dean? But you’re dead.”
“Not last I checked,” Dean retorted. “Care to explain why the paramedics couldn’t find you?”
“I . . . paramedics?” Sam looked at him funny. “I didn’t see any paramedics, just . . . just police and the M. E. They said no one else survived. How can that be, it you are fine? Are you saying no one died?”
“Oh, people died,” Dean conceded, “but not everyone and actually not a lot of people. There were a lot of survivors.”
“Then, what’s going on?” Sam asked bewildered. “The trickster, again?”
“I don’t know,” Dean admitted. “Maybe, though this doesn’t quite seem to be his style.”
Sam pushed himself to his feet. “Is the host all right?” he asked Prue.
“She’s alive,” was all Prue could answer.
Sam nodded. “That’s good.” He walked over to the door. “I can’t go in, can I?”
Prue shook her head. “I’m afraid not. We’ve tried all sorts of spells, but it just seems like it’s going to be up to her to uncast the spell the demon used her to cast.”
“Speaking of which, I hear something from her,” Leo announced as he walked away from where he had been talking with his sons and toward Christy.
Prue joined him and got down next to the young witch.
Christy yawned before she did anything else. Then, she opened first one eye than the other. A puzzled expression crossed her face. “I’m me.” There was almost a question in her voice. She pushed her arms back and tried to sit up. She winced as pain shot through her right arm. “Well, isn’t that nice,” she retorted. “I guess I’ll take it, if it means that . . . thing . . . is gone.” She looked at Prue. “You’re . . . Oh, I am so sorry. She was rather cruel to you, wasn’t she? Are you all right?”
“In case you missed it, I’m dead,” Prue informed her.
Christy nodded. “Yes, but she . . . she still seemed to think she could hurt you. I’m glad you’re not.” She used her left arm to prop herself up. “And this is real? She kept pushing me away into some sort of fantasy world, as if I was so much garbage. She had a nasty sense of humor, let me tell you. I starred as the villain and I had no control. It was always the same stuff. I was kidnapped by demons and by the end of it, my own sister killed me because I tried to kill her.” She sighed as she gave up trying to stand. “Mind giving me a hand? I’m pretty sure you broke my arm. Hopefully nothing else. I guess I should be glad you didn’t kill me. You could have, I imagine.”
Prue didn’t comment as she helped Christy get to her feet. She’d known very early on that a demon was possessing an innocent. After that it had never been an option to kill Christy and she hadn’t known how to keep the demon out of Christy. She’d even tried the spell for the Woogie once and the demon had just mocked her. “Any chance you know the reversal to the spell the demon cast?”
Christy nodded. “I think so. I’m afraid I was never that good with spells. That was always my sister. She doesn’t have any active powers, so she focused on those. I think I can do this though.” She looked around. “Do you have something I can write on? I want to see if it looks right before I cast it.”
“Sure,” Prue pointed at a writing desk. “You should find what you need in there.”
“Thanks.” Christy headed over there.
Prue headed back to the outer doors. “Christy thinks she knows the spell.”
Leo exhaled slowly. “Good. The spell you cast on my helped, but I really need to eat something. It’s been days since I managed to eat anything and even with that spell, I’m starting to feel it. Keep an eye up here for me, would you.”
Prue nodded. “Sure. Bring extra. I imagine when I uncast the one I cast on my sisters, they’re going to be pretty hungry, too.”
As Leo walked toward the kitchen, Wyatt looked at Prue funny. “What did you do to Mom anyway?”
“I cast a spell to stop them, basically,” she informed him. “They don’t eat, sleep, breath, bleed, age. Their hearts beat, which is kind of odd since they don’t bleed. Otherwise they are just stopped in time. I’ve had to recast it several times over the years and since they were unconscious when I found them, it sometimes took a while for me to notice. Over the years there injuries have no doubt worsened and they are probably hungry.”
“So if you did nothing, eventually they would wake up?”
Prue nodded. “I hope. That last battle took its toll on them. I just hope it can be fixed.”
Christy came up behind her and tapped her on the shoulder. “Here’s the spells, both the original and the counter. See if it looks right. I have no reason to believe she could write a spell.”
“Other than a house we can’t get out of,” Prue commented with a raised eyebrow mirroring an action her sister Piper did all the time.
Christy chuckled. “Yeah, other than that.”
Prue took the paper and silently looked at the first spell. On the paper it read, “Fire from within my soul, circle round this humble home. Close every gap and hole. Do not let these people roam.” Crude, effective, and very specific. After a quick glance at the counter she handed it back to Christy. “You’ll have to cast it.”
Christy took the paper back and sighed. She nodded. “Let’s hope this works.” Holding the paper up so she could read, she chanted, “Fire from within my soul, depart now from around this home. Open every gap and hole. Let these people freely roam.”