I do not own the Charmed characters, if I did, well, lets just say, S4 would have started a lot different, *can I cover all the bruises they would give each other? Lol * I just write for my own enjoyment.

Authors note *WARNING* this ficlet contains a lot of gore, as this is a Halloween fic. This is my first attempt at this type of fic, and I’m not sure how it will turn out. If this makes you squeamish, or if it NOT the type of thing you like to read, do not proceed any farther!!!


It happened so fast, we never saw it coming. One minute we were all celebrating one of the happiest times we have had, the announcement that we were going to have a baby, and the next we were attacked. Demons shimmered in behind all of us, giving us no chance to do anything as they grabbed us, shimmering all six of us away before we had a chance to even realize what was happening.

I don’t know just what happened next as I blacked out, but when I can to, I found myself bound to a wall, my arms screaming in agony as the weight of my body hung from them, warm blood seeping from the cuts the chains inflicted on my wrists, leaving a dark brown stain as it dried. Raising my head, I looked around seeing the others bound as well, my sisters beside my, our husbands across from us.

Thinking how stupid the demons must be to leave us free to use our powers I tried to use mine to free myself, but no matter how hard I willed it, nothing happened, we were powerless and I knew even with out the men waking that they would not be able to use theirs either. I turned my head as a sound reached my ears, a slight sigh, and saw Piper start to wake.

Was her throat as parched as mine?

"I see some of our ‘guests’ are awakening. Wake the others!" a deep, foreboding voice sounded from somewhere above me. The pure evil in that voice leaving no doubt in my mind as to who, and what, it was.

I heard footsteps approaching, echoing in the darkness that stretched out to each side of us, and saw two demons, the likes I had never seen before entering the lighted area. Their green scaled arms were what I noticed first, for they each had four and they were well muscled, like a weight lifter, each arm as big around as mortal mans thigh.

Walking over to my sisters, one groggy, one still out of it, the they simply back handed them, the sound of bone on flesh like a pistol shot in the chamber. A cry escaped from Pipers lips as her head struck the wall behind her and her eye’s flew open at the rough treatment. I could not see Phoebe on her other side, but I knew she was also awoken by the blow.

Turning, they walked to the other wall and I watched, transfixed, as they pummeled the men held there defenselessly, no hit to hard, but each one delivered precisely, getting the desired results as they men we loved were brought back to conciseness by pain.

"The Charmed One? How pathetically easy you were to capture." The voice spoke again and all of us turned to look at the cloaked figure as it strode into the room, the minions it commanded bowing before it. "I have been afraid of this!"

As he spoke, he stopped in front of my, looking at me like I was nothing more then a piece of meat. He reached his hand up to me, and as I tried fruitlessly to pull away I could hear Bane yelling, his chains rattling as he tried to pull free. The hand, long clawed fingers, more like talons grabbed my chin, the tips piercing the flesh like needles.

"Let her GO!" Bane yelled, straining to break free. I could see his blood running freely down his forearms, the crimson streams making strange patterns as they wound around the cords and veins that covered his arms.
"I have no intention of harming her, or her sisters, yet." He said, as he walked over to the men.

Pacing before the captive men, I could see Cole follow his every move while Leo and Andy kept their attention on us. Locking eye’s with my husband, I tried to convey to him just how much I loved him, and that everything would be fine, but I could tell he did not have the same confidence in our safety. I wish he had been wrong.

"You!" he said, pointing a hand at Leo. "You are the whitelighter. I want you to make him suffer." He said to the two demons who were standing there waiting for his word. Turning, he walked to the end of the room, a throne appearing as he turned and he sat, waiting with a malevolent gleam in his eye as they pulled their tools from the shadows.

A long wooden table with buckles on it, thick, leather buckles that were crusted in blood. Another table, covered with a dark cloth, lumps underneath that caused me to shudder at what it hid. Buckets that were black, the contents steaming even in the warmth of the chamber. These things they set where we could not help but see them. As they put the buckets down they turned as one, moving towards Leo, who had an almost serene look on his face.

"I can see you face and do not fool yourself. This chamber was built especially for my most prized captives, You are all powerless while you dwell inside it. There will be no escape. Tell them traitor!"
"Cole?" Phoebe asked, her voice conveying in that one word both love, and fear.
"He’s right." The demon turned good said, not even meeting his lovers eyes. "As soon as he brought us here, he won."
"No, your lying!" I yelled.
"I wish I was." Cole answered. I heard something in his voice then that chilled me to the bone. I heard fear, something that I had never heard from him before.
"Wh… who are you?" Piper asked, he gaze never leaving her husband.
"I’m your death. But you may call me Master until then, just as all others here bow to me, so shall you. Now bring that do gooder, I want to hear him scream!"

We all yelled, shouted, as they walked over to where Leo hung, his futile attempts to get away from them almost comical if not for the dire situation we were in. Painfully twisting his arms, not caring that it hurt, taking pleasure in it, they dragged him to the table, slamming him onto it. While one held him, the other secured his arms and legs into the straps, pulling them so tight there was no way he would pull free with out pulling the hand or foot off as well.

Walking to the head of the table, one of them started turning a crank attached there, pulling the slack on the chains, stretching his arms high over his head until he could no longer move. The other one had moved to stand by the shrouded table, looking at his master as he waited for the word to start. Seeing him nod, he pulled back the cloth, revealing what lay beneath. Laid out in a neat, orderly fashion were things I had only ever seen in a museum.

Hooks, knives, small slim slivers of metal. The instruments that were used to force confessions from the innocent. The hooks used to pull at the flesh, the knives for cutting and slicing into the hapless victims, the slim metal pieces forced under finger and toe nails, as well as other body parts. A large bowl, holding something white that I knew to be salt, used to rub into the wounds to stop the bleeding least the victim die to soon. With out looking I knew that the steaming buckets contained tar, for those wounds inflicted to deep.

Beside these lay a wicked looking knotted rope, the knots gleaming in the light. A cat-o-nine tails, glass embedded into the thick knots for further punishment. Bile rose in my throat. I knew what these things were, my sisters did not, and now, we were going to be forced to watch as they were used on the man who’s only misdeed had been that he fell in love with his charge.

"Do not kill him to quickly, I want him to see what will happen to his charges before he dies."
"Yes Master." They said in unison.

Picking up a small dagger, the first one moved to the side of the table, turning another crank, lifting the head of the table so it was on an incline and for the first time we could see the dark blotches covering it, the grooves cut in its length, leading to a funnel set in the base. Beneath it they set a bowl, its purpose all to clear. To catch the blood that was about to be spilled. Using the dagger, the demon cut away Leo’s shirt, leaving him there half naked, his pale skin almost shining against the morbid backdrop.

What happened next is an image burned into my mind. The face changed, but the screams and the blood, those never changed. Taking what looked like a wire brush, they started scraping the skin, making it red, angry, looking, leaving none of the exposed flesh untouched except for the face. They took there time, making sure that each area they did was sore, sensitive to the touch, yet Leo never made a sound, even as tears of pain fell like crystal drops from the corners of his eyes.

Putting down the brushes, they stepped back, letting there Master walk forward to look. Reaching over to the tray, he picked up a handful of the salt, seeing Leo’s eye’s follow his every move, he lazily brought his hand forward, opening the clawed appendage and letting the granular fall. He took his time, making sure to spread it around until the last bit had fallen from his hand. Stepping back, he nodded to one of them, and that is when the first whimper escaped.

Walking forward, the demon poured water over his chest and the salt was washed into the abrasions. Satisfied, he stepped back, motioning the other demon to join him as he returned to his seat.

"Do not worry, you will all have your turn." He said, seeing the anger, pain, fear, and loathing on all of our faces. Looking across from where I was suspended, I saw Cole, his face set as he seemed to withdraw into himself. I knew he was going to try something, but some how, deep inside, I knew it would do us no good.

A gasp drew my attention back to the sight playing out before me thought I knew I did not want to see. The taller of the two had taken a dagger and sliced the legs off Leo’s jeans, making them very short cut-off’s and now he was using some of the metal slivers, piercing the skin of his abdomen, much like sewing, in and out, never to deep, just below the surface until finally, he got the reaction he was looking for. A scream, born of pain, reverberated through the room, and from beside me I heard Piper scream out as well.

The gleam in the face of creature who controlled our fate sickened my beyond my capability to control my rebelling stomach and what little I had consumed at supper was expelled from me, leaving a sick taste in my mouth. But it was not over yet. I saw them look at their handiwork before they positioned themselves on either side of the helpless man. Reaching out, they placed a hand each on his chest, moving the other one to the metal slivers, and with out any warning, they tore them from the flesh, leaving long cuts.

The screams reached a long continuous pitch before they finally ceased when he passed out. Looking disappointed, the Master walked forward, a frown on his face. "He tires to quickly, bring the traitor!" and with that he lifted the cup from the basin, draining the small amount of blood collected there in one gulp. "It is sweet enough yet. The more pain that is caused, the sweeter the taste. " he said, turning towards us, his lips wet with blood. Walking to Piper, he grabbed her by the hair, kissing her, making her taste of the blood still coating his lips.

"Flay him." He said as he turned back to see that they had put Leo back in his chains where he hung his head dropped to his chest. Cole now held the place of honor, stripped to the waist, his face against the rough wood.

The knotted leather whip, its long, tasseled ends sparkling in the light was brought forth, and the demon gave it a test flick, making it snap. Never saying a word, he moved to the table, dipping the ends in a pail of water before twirling it in the salt. Satisfied, he turned and moved to stand at the foot of the table, raising his arm he lashed out, making the damp leather snap as he struck, the nine individual ends cutting deep into the flesh laid before him. Over and over he struck, ten, fifteen, twenty, times till the light brown skin of Cole’s back was now nothing but raw, bleeding meat like something you would see in a grinder.

After the twentieth strike, still have drawn no cry, he stopped, looking towards his partner and he stepped forward. Reaching down he drew a large, cloth swaddled ladle from the steaming pots of tar and smeared it over the flayed flesh. Cole’s back arched as he was suddenly drawn from his pain induced stupor, an almost animalistic howl of anguish echoing forth.

Satisfied, they stopped, and released him, watching in delight as he crumpled at their feet. With one foot, the first one kicked him over onto his back, causing him to wither as the pain assaulted him anew.

"Who shall be next?"
"Why?" Phoebe asked as tears flowed down her face. Beside us Piper stared vacantly ahead, lost in he own peace I hoped. I wished I could join her.

For the next few days, or was it weeks? Hours? I was not sure we were all placed upon that cursed table, one by one, each of us receiving our own personal torture, coals tied to the bend of our joints, hooks embedded in our skin, only to be torn free as we thrashed in our pain. It was never ending, but it was also never enough to give us freedom.

I don’t even recall who it was he told him, the Source, our captor, it could have been me for all I can recall, but one of us did, and suddenly, I found myself free of the physical pain we were forced to endure. He knew I was with child.

The first of us to be released was Andy. That was the day I lost my voice. I could only watch helplessly as he was placed once again on the table, his skin so pale were it was not marked, his face. They had brought out some new ‘toys’ as they liked to call them, trying to force us to break, which we had, they wanted us destroyed, slowly, completely, they wanted us to beg for death, but not our own, they wanted us to beg for the death of our souls.

I was watching, thankful it was not me, grateful they were focused on someone else so that I could be spared. I knew it was the man I loved, the man who, once upon a time, would have done anything to protect me but now would likely betray me for just a minute of peace.

On the tray was a curved knife, just the one, and we were all transfixed on it, watching the way the light played off the crystal in it pommel as he picked it up. We knew this would be special, for he had never touched us himself after that first day. He held it out before him, moving in front of each of us as he turned it over and over in his hands, watching as we each tried to pull away even thought we were once again bound to the wall. They released us for a time each day, was that how time was measured here, or was it just pain and the blackness of oblivion?

"Now watch as this one comes face to face with the ultimate problem." He told us, and we watched, fascinated in a sick way as he stood before Andy, his hand raised, and a chant filling the air. As he spoke the final word, he brought his hand down, and then across, almost to fast for our eye’s to follow.

At first, we did not think he had done anything, for we saw no blood, then, with a flick of his wrist, he released Andy, and as he fell forward, his arms going to his abdomen, it was as though something burst, and out poured the contents housed with in. Loops and layers of blood and yellowish bile covered intestines, spilled out and over his arms, pooling on the floor at his feet, steam and the pungent odor of excrement filled the air. Mewling like a new born calf, his face pale, his eye’s bright, he tried in vain to hold them in, his hands slick with his own bodily fluids.

"This will take a while, I hope you are all watching." And like the terrified creatures we had become, we obeyed him, for to disobey would be far worse, we watched as Andy tried to put them back, to force the yards of intestines back in, a dead man trying in vain to live.

It took him what seemed like a lifetime, like just an instant, to finally give in to his fate, and I watched, both horrified, fascinated, and unbelieving as he tried to crawl over his own guts, sliding, falling, in agony, as he crawled towards me, reaching out to touch me one last time, in hatred for allowing this, or in love, I will never know. He fell and never moved again not two feet away from where I was.

One by one the others died, each in pain, each more gruesome then the next till only I remained alive. I was not alone however, for he had their dead, decaying bodies hung back up, the false grins of death staring out at us as we too awaited our fates.

They still talk to me, even as the rats come out to feed on the flesh as it sloughed off there bodies. Even as the sickly sweet smell of death wafts on the air, as the bloated bodies burst one by one from the gases that filled them in death. The room was painted in the macabre colors of human flesh and blood. Gray, white, red, black, all the color that you did not see from the outside were now coated in layers on the floors and walls.

They curse me sometimes, other times they tell how much they love me, and miss me, and my mind turns in, seeking escape, never finding it. Inside my womb my salvation, my damnation grows each day, for I am allowed to live only until the child is born. I tried at first to end it, but each time they release me from me bonds they are there, watching me, preventing me from ending the pain, the loss, the madness that consumes me.

What is this by me feet? Is that a bone? Phoebe, she was the last to die, her death was the most painful to watch for I was selfish, knowing that when she died I would be alone. She was crushed, slowly, a little at a time, water pouring out of a cauldron hung over head, lowering the huge slab of granite little by little, and then just before it could kill her, water was added, giving her a slight reprieve, just enough to make us think it was over before it would once more be released.

Finally I heard it, the snap of breaking bone, and a shrill, high scream reverberating endlessly in my skull. I hear that scream still in my mind, each time I close my eye’s it’s there, taunting me. I don’t know what’s worse, hearing that damn scream every time I close my eye’s, or seeing the rotting corpses hanging there, staring at me. Every time I was allowed free movement, I could feel the eye’s following my movements.

"I have some more company for you." he said as he entered the room, one of his servants dragging a brown haired woman behind him, her terrified whimpers causing me to curl in a ball. Not again, please, not this, why does he make me watch him kill over and over? He takes pleasure in it, at times he even made me help.

I looked at my hands, covered in filth and blood. I racked my nails up my arms, drawing blood once more. Hands grabbed me, and I found myself once more bound to the wall, I dared not close my eye’s, he would punish me if I did. She was bound to the table, her sobs quieted as she looked around in total fear, her eye’s so wide they seemed to take up her entire face. I smiled, glad it was not me.

"I hope you are paying close attention, this one is special, just like you." he said as he walked around the table. "Did your mother ever tell you about the lust she and her whitelighter shared? I see you know, but, even the Elders did not know that this pathetic weakling was the results." With that, he turned and motioned to his minion.

He took his time with her, breaking her fingers one by one. Each snap followed by a scream of pain till all ten of them were swollen and misshapen. Fire was his next tool. A burning torch was placed on the sole’s of her feet, turning them red, blistered till finally the flesh caught fire, turning black. The smell of burnt flesh assaulted me, making me gag and retch.

I think he was disappointed in her, this sister, a girl I had never seen before, forced to endure more then it could handle, her mind shut down, taking her body with it. She was free from this. She was lucky. It had only taken her about three days to die. I hated her for it. They did not even bother to place her body on the wall, the just left it on the table where she had perished.

A thud woke me, and it took me a moment to realize what the sound had been. I looked down, numb as a head rolled across the floor and I just started to shake, not in fear, but in laughter. The things you find amusing when your world is full of pain, death, terror, were few and far between. As I shook in mirth, I suddenly felt something. Pain, gripping my belly, sharp, shooting, like I was being squeezed.

NO! This can not be happening, I am about to give birth, has it been that long? My child, a child made out of love, would be born into this world of hatred. This child, I didn’t even know if it was a girl or a boy because of the magical enchantments keeping my powers from me, kept me from learning is this child had powers.

"I see it is time." He said, walking in. "I think we will speed this along. I grow tired of you, and I want a child that was meant to be a witch raised in my world. Ironic isn’t it. Did you know your baby was prophesied to kill me? No. No matter, I knew from the moment you first received your powers that all I had to do was wait, and I would beat it. Take the child."

I knew there was nothing I could do to stop them as they walked towards me. I was helpless in pain, and chained with no powers as a contraction struck me. I looked at the dagger in the scaled hand and knew, I would finally find my freedom. I just wished I could save my child as well.

Looking at me, his head tilted to the side, he held the sharp deliverance I sought down beside him. With no warning, he released my bonds and I fell to the ground. Kneeling down beside my swollen belly, he placed one hand on it while he waited for the contraction wracking me to stop. As it passed, he brought his other hand forward, the light from the torch catching it, flashing.

Where did the strength come from? I couldn’t tell, but as he placed it on the tender skin of my abdomen, I knew how to end this. I reached out, grabbing the blade before he could stop me, to shocked that after all this time I had the ability to actually act.

Stabbing yourself does not hurt, not when you are ready, when you need, to die. I drove the blade into my own flesh, killing the one thing that was mine, that he could never take from me, the one piece of Andy I still had before they could stop me.

The last thing I ever heard was a scream of outrage and I never felt the flames I knew he had thrown. With a smile on my lips, I slipped into the darkness. Death

Welcomed, desired, peaceful, death. The one thing he could not control was death.

I was free, and so was my child.