Post by StoryGirl83 on Feb 17, 2016 0:31:05 GMT -5
Chapter Thirty - Ding Dong! The Witch Is Sick!
Flashback
10:50 AM
The lives of the Charmed Ones and their families were so full of noise and distractions that if someone had the time and the patience to stand by quietly and watch, they could easily slip through unnoticed. One such watcher had been around for years with no one the wiser, but today he found the need to break the barrier of invisibility if just a little.
Knowing this and doing this, however, were two entirely different things and the watcher was off to a rough start. The last few days had been some of the most tiring he had ever gone through and he’d been through a lot in his life. He rubbed his forehead, trying to ward away the headache that seemed to be coming. Most likely it was some after effect of his complete lack of sleep over the last few days.
At least he hoped it was. If he was getting an allergic reaction to another type of magical travel, then he was just going to quit when this was all over. Considering where he lived, the only way he was getting anywhere was if he used magical transportation and his body already violently objected to at least two forms of magical transportation.
At least he didn’t have to worry much about demons following him here. Not only would they be idiots to do so, especially right now, it seemed that someone had managed to lock most of them in the underworld. Unlike Up There were travel was just straight out not happening, any demon in the underworld when this started was grounded. Entrance into the underworld was doable, a bad idea when you considered all the very annoyed demons stuck there, but definitely doable. Someone hadn’t wanted interference from that corner either, but apparently they had wanted to be able to get in there themselves, so they had done things differently.
Getting his bearings, he pressed himself up against the side of the house just in case someone had seen his grand entrance. Heaving in several deep breaths he waited until his legs were no longer jello and turned to face the house in front of him.
The Halliwell Manor towered in front of him and he could just barely make out movement up in the attic, so that was where he probably had to go. He was here for one reason and one reason only.
They trusted him a little, but not enough for this. The information he was going to give them would spell death for someone and that wasn’t the kind of thing you trusted a mere acquaintance with.
Still something about the look in Charles Chambers’ eyes when he’d accosted the watcher told him that Charles was dead serious. Another day and that might well be just plain dead since Charles was just as sick with what he called “Aunt Elisa’s stupid revenge plan” as the millions of other people on the planet who were infected.
Twenty years previous Charles has chosen to find a way to make himself mortal. He’d given up both his immortality and his magic and that was supposed to include his own family’s ability to track him down.
If only it had.
The watcher gulped recalling the nearly delirious Charles’ description of the visit his cousin, Hannah, had paid on him with her little sister, Deborah. While Deborah had held Charles, his wife, and two daughters immobile with just a thought and the motions of her hand, Hannah had headed for the tap.
May 2, 2027
"You know what we do to traitors?" Hannah asked as she filled the tumbler to the brim."Hannah, please," Charles begged. "They've nothing to do with this."
"No!" Hannah shouted. "They have everything to do with this. You left because of this filth." She spat in Kelly, Charles' wife's, face. "Do they even know what you are, Charles? Does this sleeper know what she married?"
"I told her about my past," Charles assured Hannah. He turned pleading eyes toward Deborah. "Deb, talk some sense into her. I never told anyone about . . . any of this. I told Kelly what I was. I never told her about this."
"Not good enough, Cousin," Hannah gave him a look of pure malice. "Deb, who's first?"
Deb made a slow motion with her free hand and Charles watched helplessly as his younger daughter, Izzy's, mouth opened and her head tilted back.
"The baby, huh?" Hannah took the tumbler in her hand and poured some down his little daughter's throat.
Charles couldn't even open his mouth in protest.
Hannah looked him in the eye and grinned maliciously at him. "Deb, the little very *friendly* person who married our cousin next."
Deb made the same slow motions with her hand and Charles was forced to watch as Hannah approached his wife and poured water down her waiting throat. Try as he might he couldn't even look away. Deb's manipulation forced him to watch as Hannah slowly poured water down Kelly's throat and then without comment his older daughter, Kara's throat as well.
As soon as the last drops fell down Kara's throat Charles felt mobility return to his head. He didn't know if he wanted to cry or scream, but one thought forced it's way to the front. Jason! His son would be home any minute and while his wife and daughters were as good as dead, his son was not.
Then, he noticed Hannah was back at the tap. She filled the tumbler and walked over to Charles. "Why don't we find out just how completely you rid yourself of your magic, cousin?" As she poured the cool liquid down his throat she added, "You wanted mortality, Charles. Well, now you've got it."
Once the last drop had slid down Charles' throat Hannah put the tumbler on the palm of her hand a touched it. It turned to ash at her touch. "Never leave fingerprints. Right, Cousin?"
She started for the door and stopped. She turned around and looked at Charles. "Oh, don't think I don't know about your precious son. Say nothing and he will live. He'll be an orphan, but he'll live."
Without another word Hannah and Deb were out the door. It must have been only thirty seconds or so before Deb's hold on them broke, but to Charles it felt more like eternity. As soon as he could more he ran to the cupboard to get Ipecac, but he knew it was already in their system. It might not be in their blood, but even one drop was too much.
The watcher had listened to Charles’ story with half an ear. Listening would never have gotten the whole story and so the watcher had done something that had not set well with him since.
He’d reached deep into Charles’ mind and taken the story from him. And that story was why he now stood just outside the Halliwell Manor trying to figure out how to get a message to the Halliwells without letting them know who the message was from.
And that was the kicker wasn’t it? And even if it was possible how could they be convinced to trust it. It was a certainty they wouldn’t if the watcher was revealed, not soon enough anyway.
First thing, though, was to get into the house and a quick turn of the knob revealed that the house was locked. No surprise there, but he didn’t have time for locked doors, so he closed his eyes and unlocked it.
Simple as that.
If only the rest of this would be easy.