Disclaimer: I don't own the characters Chris and Wyatt Halliwell, or Charmed, although, I wish I did… because some of the crap we had to put up with in Seasons 7 and 8 would have been replaced by something a lot better… like a spin-off featuring the Halliwell brothers. Right, back to the disclaimer. I don't own 'em. Not making any money. Etc. Etc.

Author's Note: This is the story-version of a set of scripts I am working on for a spin-off… namely the Pilot Episode. This is set 18 years after the series finale of Charmed, when Chris and Wyatt would be taking over the Halliwell legacy. Chris is twenty and Wyatt is twenty-two. Things will explain themselves as you read, so, without further adieu, I hope you enjoy! Please read and review.

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Destined: The Charmed Sons

Episode 1.1, Pilot: The Crucible

Prologue

In the darkness of night, a lone figure emerged from the cellar of an old building that may have been a church at one time. As the figure's shape became more visible, it revealed to be a young man in his late teens wearing a black leather trench coat; his long, dirty, black hair tied back in a ponytail, while blood ran down his chin. He peered upwards towards the steeple, where years gone by a cross would have been silhouetted against the star speckled sky. Now there was only a stooped raven looking down at him.

The sight of the bird sent a shiver down his spine and dark eyes narrowed at the carrion eater above him. It was an ill omen. The man wiped his hand across his chin, smearing the trail of crimson across the backside of it. For a moment he looked at the evidence of what he had just done, then back towards the basement door he had emerged from. He swallowed down the flutter of anxiety that threatened to shake his resolve.

Walking towards the man from further down the silent, lamp-lit street was a very pale woman. She was roughly five-feet-six, about four inches shorter than the man she was approaching, with long blond hair. She was too skinny to be in perfect health. She carried over her shoulder a heavy laden backpack. As she neared the man, a relieved smile grew on her face. As the two reached one another's side, their hands clasped together and they met eye-to-eye.

"Did anyone follow you?" the man asked.

"No, I don't think so," she answered. The two smiled nervously at one another, finishing their greeting of one another with a kiss, that in spite of seeming like they dare not allow themselves much time to enjoy, was passionate. There was a sense of tense urgency about the pair. The woman reached a hand to touch the trail of blood on his face seeing the cut at his cheek that it ran from, but without questioning him on it with more than a look, began to lead him to the main doors of the church. The crosses that had once decorated the doors, had been replaced by carved pentagrams, giving tell that this historic house of worship was being used for something other than its original intended construction.

Outside the building, a massive figure approached holding a large axe. It was apparent he knew who was in the building, and what they planned on doing. He crept closer to a large window where he could see inside. Watching the two embrace each other made his blood boil. His fingers tightened around the heavy axe he held.

Dropping her shoulder bag upon the floor, the blonde woman began pulling out candles and a myriad of occult items including a bowl to mix things in. The man watched her, crouching to help her begin setting up for their task. It was as if the two of them knew that their time was of the essence. "They won't stay out long. Those ropes won't hold forever… you're sure this will work?" the man asked her with calmness as he lit the candles and joined her on the floor over a small bowl. She nodded without answering aloud, pulling out herbs and a piece of parchment which she passed to her companion. He held her fingers for a moment longer than necessary when he accepted what she passed to him.

Suddenly the window burst inwards as the figure that had been watching them could contain his patience no longer. His unexpected entrance startled the two lovers. The girl was speechless. She recognized the man, but did not dare speak his name. The young man she was with was in shock, not able to move even enough to remove his hand from hers.

As the dark figure towered over the two, he stared directly at the young man in black. "You witch, do you really think that you can redeem this place? Redeem her?" his voice grated in his throat like course sandpaper. The young man, still in shock, had no reply. The overbearing figure struck, not with the axe, but with a booted foot to the youth's face. It sent him sprawling backwards against a pew, knocking the wind out of him and causing him to smack his head against the wood.

Frantic, the girl grabbed her piece of paper, quickly spouting off the words, although the preparations hadn't been finished. Something had to be done. Quickly.

"Magic forces far and wide
Enchant this place so foes can't hide
Allow this witch a sanctuary therein
So she can dispel the evil within…"

The man lifted his axe, bringing it down in a swift and deadly movement upon the still dazed young man. Blood spattered across the girl's face as she watched in horror as her companion fell to the ground and didn't move again. "Nooo!" she screeched out in anguish. The axe-wielding murderer was turning to her now. The girl quickly started to back-peddle away, eyes widened in horror, while she still tried frantically to read the spell again.

"Magic forces far and wide…

"How could you? You bring this deceit upon your family. You have betrayed us Abigail…" the man's voice grated coldly. He lifted the axe again as he stepped over the body. "…you have betrayed your coven." The looming, silhouetted figure continued to approach her as she backed herself up against the wall, sliding up into a standing position. His boots left bloody tracks in the floor behind him.

"Enchant this place so foes can't hide
Allow this witch a sanctuary therein…"

He kicked her candles and knocked her bowl of ingredients over before he swung the axe at her. The metal blade cleaved through her middle and with a scream that echoed in the cavernous room, her body erupted into flames leaving only a small pile of ash.

Unsatisfied, her killer spat on the pile of ash before he turned, taking one of her candles and set it underneath a curtain to burn the place down. Bending over the young man that he killed he yanked a metal charm from the body, closing the symbol in his palm. The man left his murderous scene without looking back while flames began consuming the building behind him…

Opening Credits Roll

Theme song: "Gunslinger (Runnin' Out of Time)" - Over It

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