Hey, this took waaaayy longer than intended. I'm still not totally happy with it, but here it is.
Special thanks to Brainkrause to whom this is dedicated for giving the idea a long time ago. Sorry it's really late :)
Um no beta, probably lots of typos, and mild language in stressful situations. Read and Enjoy. Oh and throw the poor writer a review if you could :)
"There's no such thing as a Bogeyman"
Wyatt sat straight up in his bed staring hard at the closet door. It had moved. He swore to the Elders the door had moved. Wait! There it went again. Moving slowly, Wyatt flipped the covers back feet hitting the carpeted floor soundlessly. He brought his hands up ready to toast any supernatural creep that opened that door.
Light from the street lamps filtered through his window blinds making it difficult to pick out distinct shapes in his dark room. He could see the blob of darkness to his right that was his bed and a block of shadow to his left that he knew was his desk and the nearly black corner was where his closet door was. There was a scratching noise, and Wyatt could swear the door opened a bit, something shiny and long sliding out of the small crack. He flicked his hand hurriedly turning on the desk lamp telekinetically.
The door thudded closed lightly. Wyatt blinked.
Now a normal kid would either be screaming bloody murder or convincing himself it was all his imagination. Wyatt…wasn't a normal kid. Which, sadly, meant that the monster hiding in his closet was most likely very, very real. He really hated being a witch sometimes.
He leapt about five feet in the air when his bedroom door was suddenly pushed open. Squinting at the abrupt brightness spilling into his room, Wyatt made out the tall shape of his grandfather.
"Oh, sorry. Didn't mean to wake you." Victor apologized opening the door fully. He stepped into the room and Wyatt noted he was wearing his business clothes despite the late, or rather earlier, hour.
Wyatt gulped and restarted his heart. "Grandpa."
Victor eyed him closely taking in his rapid breathing and flushed face. "Are you all right buddy? Why are you standing in the middle of your room?"
"Oh I'm fine," Wyatt said after a moment. He wasn't real sure how his Grandpa would handle a…um bogeyman? being in his grandson's closet. So that settled the question of whether or not Wyatt would tell Victor. Besides he was fifteen now, he could totally handle a bogeyman. "I was just sleepwalking," he lied dredging up the most honest expression in his arsenal.
Victor arched an eyebrow. "You're awake," he observed dryly.
Wyatt blinked and nodded. "Right. I was awake walking," he amended.
Victor made a confused expression before shaking his head. "Nevermind. I got a call from the office and I need to head in for a few hours. Most likely I'll be back before Chris or you get up, at least the second time you get up. Think you'll be okay?" he asked.
Wyatt nodded vigorously. "Sure. Chris and I will be fine."
"Good," Victor said ruffling Wyatt's hair. "Go back to sleep, 'kay?"
"Sure thing Gramps," Wyatt said giving him the thumbs up, all the while thinking 'never gonna happen'. He shut the door behind his grandfather turning back around to stare at the closet door. It sat there innocently closed. Mocking him. Wyatt eased himself back down on his bed sitting cross-legged. He flipped the light off keeping both eyes on the door. Come out, come out wherever you are…
The damn thing listened.
"Wyatt it's like one in the morning. Go away." Chris moaned pulling a pillow over his head. He groaned shoving his head deeper in the pillow at his brother's incessant cries. He didn't sense any danger and Wyatt didn't sound particularly distressed, so Chris judged it safe to remain as he was where he was.
Pounding footsteps echoed across his room and then Wyatt was shaking him roughly. "Chris!"
"What!" Chris snapped angrily jerking his head up to glare at his older brother. "In case you haven't noticed, Wyatt, I'm trying to sleep."
Wyatt rolled his eyes hands flying around in a dismissive gesture. "I have a problem," he said quickly. "There's a bogeyman in my closet."
Chris blinked and slowly sat up, staring at Wyatt. This was definitely not what he'd been expecting. "Okay…generally when you come a bumbling in and mention stuff that's impossible—monsters, demons, creepy freaky spirits, etc.—I believe you 'cause of who we are, but really? A bogeyman? Even you should know they're only myth."
"But Chris..." Wyatt whined. "I swear I heard and saw something."
Chris frowned and leaned forward a bit. "Isn't this a little backwards?" he whispered mockingly gesturing between the two of them.
"Chris. I'm not kidding here."
Chris closed his eyes. Wyatt was by far one of the most persistent people he knew and if he ever wanted to get back to bed before snow fell in San Francisco, well, he'd have to humor his brother. Heaving an exasperated sigh, the brunette dragged himself out of bed. "Fine. We'll go check it out."
Wyatt followed Chris down the hallway, but once they got to his room he pushed Chris behind him. He edged forward careful to keep himself in front of the younger boy.
"Really?" Chris asked poking his brother in the back. "You come running to me about the bogeyman and then when you think he might be coming back you stand in front?"
Wyatt glanced over his shoulder to glare at Chris. "Yes. You're the brains of the outfit. That's why I came and got you. I thought you might know what to do."
"Get you a nightlight, that's what we do," Chris muttered.
Wyatt moved forward cautiously and opened the closet door. He stared into the darkness for a bit before inching forward again. Chris sighed reaching around the blonde to hit the light. Both boys squinted their eyes at the sudden brightness, but it was clear there was no bogeyman in the closet.
"There, see?" Chris said grimacing at the poor excuse of a functional closet. "Only monster in there is that pile of clothes."
Wyatt nodded. He frowned thoughtfully for a moment before running over to his bed. He flopped down on top of it and peered underneath.
"What are you doing Wyatt? Is this revert to toddler night or something?" Chris asked exasperated. He was exhausted and more than a little miffed at being awakened at midnight by his older brother about a bogeyman.
Wyatt didn't answer only shifting more things around. He grunted unintelligibly, almost completely underneath the bed down to his waist.
"You know what?" Chris said addressing Wyatt's flailing legs, "I'm going back to bed."
He went back to his own room climbing into his bed. He was drifting back to sleep when Wyatt came into his room flipping on the lights.
"Wyatt!" Chris exclaimed angrily. He jerked the pillow down to cover his eyes and heard Wyatt shuffling along in his room.
The blonde ignored him throwing open the closet door. When that proved empty, he laid down on the floor checking under the bed. Chris grabbed his pillow whacking Wyatt over the head when he stood up.
"Get. Out," Chris ordered tersely.
Wyatt huffed, satisfied the room was empty of monsters. "All right, all right. Geez aren't you cranky."
Chris growled flinging an arm out to point at the door. "I'm going, I'm going," Wyatt said scampering out of the room before Chris found something heavy to throw at him.
Chris shut the door after his brother and gratefully fell back on his bed; his eyes sliding shut again as he snuggle deeper into his pillow and blankets. Stupid bogeyman myth. He breathing evened out within minutes and he was sound asleep.
Peace and quiet finally.
It didn't last.
Chris bolted awake as Wyatt orbed into the room roughly shaking his younger brother. A brief moment of panic nearly overwhelmed him before his brain caught up with his senses.
"Chris wake up. It's back. I saw it this time. I'm not joking—" the blonde rambled.
"Wyatt! Stop shaking me. I'm awake." Chris shook his head clearing the last cobwebs of sleep from his brain. Wyatt was standing in front of him wearing a wide eyed distressed expression.
Wyatt nodded proceeding to drag Chris bodily from his bed. "Good cause we have to go."
Chris gawked at him yanking backwards. "What? No. We can't go anywhere. The only place you can go is out of my room." What the heck was going on? Wyatt had most definitely lost his marbles or something.
"Chris. I'm telling you. There is a bogeyman in the house. We have to leave."
Ahhrghh, the stupid bogeyman again. Chris pinched the bridge of his nose stating in the most matter of fact voice he could muster, "Wyatt, I'm going to say this once: there is no such thing as a bogeyman."
The moment the words left his mouth there was a rippling at Chris's closet door and said non-existent bogeyman appeared. Chris and Wyatt yelled in shock backing up. They tripped on Chris's bed, rolling over it and landing in a pile on the other side. The thing shrieked shrilly causing both boys to clamp their hands over their ears.
"Do you believe me now!" Wyatt hollered from his position next to his brother on the floor.
Chris shook his head. "No!"
"Hold on. I'm trying to find other logical explanations!" Chris shouted.
Chris was quiet for a beat, grabbing Wyatt's arm as he backed up. He ran every other possible and farfetched scenario he could think of. There was simply no other rational explanation. "Okay, I believe you now," he relented.
Wyatt huffed pulling Chris backward so they were pressed against the wall. "About time. Care to take back your earlier statement?"
"No. But I'd like to amend it to 'there's no such thing as no such thing'."
They screamed again as the bogeyman launched itself over the bed at them with a sickening gurgle. Wyatt ran to the door dragging Chris with him into the brightly lit hallway. Chris slammed the door shut and took off to the attic the same time Wyatt took off in the other direction.
"Chris!" Wyatt shouted when he realized the younger boy wasn't behind him anymore.
Chris spun around at the shout. "Wyatt!"
Chris's door shuddered, shattering outward as the bogeyman practically oozed into the hallway. In the light, it looked even more terrifying with grotesque flying tentacles and at least eighteen eyes. As Chris stared at it, the thing's body morphed taking on the form of a twisted, young, half decayed looking girl. She grinned sadistically at him showing black, stunted teeth and cocked her head at an impossible angle. Chris felt his breath hitch in his throat as he stumbled backwards.
"What are you doing over there?" Wyatt bellowed past the thing between the boys. It turned to him advancing slowly.
"What am I doing over here! I'm going to the Book!" Chris yelled back tearing his eyes from the hunched girl. "Where are you going!"
"Uh," Wyatt said looking puzzled. "To the Book!" He orbed out reappearing behind the younger boy. The bogeyman/girl surged forward with a screech and Chris took a step back. Wyatt grabbed the thirteen year old around the middle and orbed up to the attic.
He let go of his brother rushing to the book and flipping through the pages frantically. "Chris come here and help me look for something that can help us," Wyatt said hurriedly. "We need to find something…Chris!"
The younger boy spun around from where Wyatt had left him. His looked terrified and Wyatt had to remind himself that Chris was just a kid who'd found out the scary boogeyman actually existed. Nevermind the fact Chris that knew demons existed. It was a fundamental thing.
"Chris, focus man."
Chris nodded. "Right…ahhh." He waved his hand shutting the attic door and sliding a heavy cabinet in front. He waved his hand again orbing a circle of crystals around himself, Wyatt, and the Book.
Chris walked over to Wyatt wrapping his arms around himself. "Um, we…we need to get information. Know your enemy. So we need to…um we need to get the aunts and Mom," Chris said.
Wyatt nodded. "You get Mom and the aunts. I'll keep looking through the book."
Chris nodded going to orb. He disappeared in a flurry of blue heading to the ceiling. The orbs bounced off a force field depositing a disgruntled looking Chris back on the floor.
"Ow," Chris said. Wyatt rushed over kneeling beside the brunette.
"Are you okay?" he asked worriedly. "No tingly sensations? No fog in your brain? No black spots? No—"
"I'm fine, Wyatt," Chris said shoving Wyatt's hands away. He peered up at the roof. "You know this means we can't get out."
"Yeah…" said Wyatt.
"And Mom and the aunts probably can't get in either."
Wyatt tried to give Chris a reassuring smile. "Then we handle it ourselves." Judging from the blunt look on his little brother's face he'd failed. Well he could throw out his best brother of the year award application now.
"Right," Chris said. "Because we can totally vanquish something that's not supposed to exist all on our own with no one home to…Grandpa!" Chris said worry spiking through him for his non-magical grandparent.
Wyatt shook his head. "Don't worry. He's not here. He had to go into the office around midnight. Woke me up to tell me."
Chris scowled. "He woke you up but not me?"
"Didn't want to disturb you."
"Well next time you tell him I want to be freakin' disturbed."
"What? Grandpa's allowed to wake you to say he's going to work, but I can't wake you to tell you there's a bogeyman loose in the house?" Wyatt asked sarcastically.
Chris glowered at him. "Yes. I happen to like Grandpa unlike you, so you can just—"
There was a shrill screech from the monster and the door rattled slightly. The sound of moaning and scratching filled the attic eerily. Chris scrambled to his feet hauling Wyatt up with him and dropped the argument.
"We should keep…uh looking through the book," he said.
Wyatt nodded. "Good idea." He started flipping through the book again pausing every so often.
"Do you even know what you're looking for?" Chris asked sharply after a bit. The growling at the door hadn't stopped and the constant sound was starting to get to him.
"Of course. Creepy fugly guy that comes after witches," Wyatt replied.
Chris scowled at him. "You do realize you described over half the book?" he said brusquely.
"Well what do you suggest we look for?" Wyatt asked.
"Oh I don't know. An oozy gooey monster or a creepy decaying girl. You know maybe what the thing looks like," Chris snapped.
Wyatt looked at him puzzled. "That's not what it looks like."
Chris frowned. "What are you talking about? I saw it."
"I saw a creepy guy with a hat and five knives for fingers," Wyatt said wiggling his digits in demonstration.
Chris blinked at him. He'd never heard of a demon with a hat and knives for fingers, and he'd looked through the Book thousands of times. "You mean Freddy Krueger?" he said bluntly recalling the serial killer from Nightmare on Elm Street.
"Now that you mention it…yeah he kinda looked like Freddy Krueger," said Wyatt.
Chris nodded, brain working in overdrive. "You're afraid of Freddy Krueger," he stated.
"What?" Wyatt scoffed. "No I'm not."
"Yes, you are."
"No, I'm not."
"Yes, you are."
"No, I'm not."
"Legend says a bogeyman takes on the appearance of what frightens a kid the most. You are afraid of Freddy Krueger," Chris said in a matter of fact tone.
Wyatt gaped at him, opening and closing his mouth. "Fine," he grumbled finally. "What are you scared of then? Bloody Mary?"
Chris pursed his lips and shifted his weight awkwardly. He ducked his head mumbling incoherently.
"What did you say? I didn't catch that," Wyatt prodded in full teasing brother mode now despite the continuing screeches from the door.
"I said, that stupid movie you and Riley outvoted me to watch the last time he stayed over," Chris muttered.
Wyatt blinked. "You mean The Last Exorcism?"
Chris shifted. "Yeah."
"Chris," Wyatt started. "I…I didn't know that movie scared you."
Chris just shrugged. "It didn't. That stupid girl creeps me out. People just shouldn't move like that."
"So your bogeyman looks like that girl. And mine looks like Freddy Krueger?" Wyatt asked making sure he got the gist of it.
"All right. Now we're getting somewhere. How do we get rid of it?" Wyatt asked.
Chris shook his head, sitting down. He sighed scrubbing his hands over his face. "I don't know Wy. I don't know."
Wyatt frowned, taking a seat beside his brother on the old sofa. The door rattled more, and the screeching increased an octave making Wyatt wince. "Well what does legend say about getting rid of it?" he said loudly.
"Nothing. Almost every single country has a form of the bogeyman, and they are all used for the same purpose; they are created by the parents as a tool of obedience. That's why it's said to take on the form of what scares you. But the bogeyman's just a myth. A non-corporal being, a manifestation of fear. You can't destroy that," Chris said continuing to rattle off facts.
Wyatt pursed his lips, trying to remember if Piper had ever threatened him with the bogeyman. "Mom never threatened us with him," he interrupted recalling no such events.
Chris stopped midsentence thrown off kilter with the rather unrelated remark. "What? Well, of course she didn't. We could be kidnapped by demons every day. Telling us that 'the bogeyman's gonna get you' wouldn't have changed much," he said dully.
"True," Wyatt consented. "You know, not that I'm complaining or anything, but how come Freddy hasn't gotten in here yet?"
"What? You want him to come in and stake us or something?" Chris asked.
"No, of course not. I said I wasn't complaining. But how come he isn't?"
Chris frowned with a shrug. "Maybe he can't teleport."
"Then how did he get in the house? And how did he get in your room so fast?" said Wyatt.
Chris furrowed his eyebrows in thought. "The closets," he said finally.
"The bogeyman can only travel through closets," Chris said. "That's good. I mean he can't get in the attic because there are no closets up here."
"He travels through closets?" Wyatt said.
Chris nodded silently.
"Well no wonder he's so grumpy and mad at all the kids. Have you seen some people's closets?" said Wyatt.
"Have you seen yours?" Chris retorted with a raised eyebrow.
Wyatt winced sufficiently chastened. "Point taken." He stood up pacing back and forth with quick short steps. "All right, so what do we do?"
Chris groaned flopping backwards. "We've been over this. I don't know."
Wyatt regarded him carefully. "Ahuh. I don't believe you. Start that million horse power brain up and think."
"A, Wyatt, my brain is not a million horse power. And B, it's like two in the morning, my brain is still sleeping!"
Wyatt rolled his eyes. "Well in case your brain didn't notice there's a bogeyman at the door. It needs to get up."
Chris glared at him before standing to start pacing. Wyatt sighed moving out of the way and sitting down to let his brother think. Out of the two of them he knew Chris was more likely to come up with a solution than he was. His brother was just smart like that even at his relatively young age. Chris paced for almost a solid ten minutes before stopping.
"All right," he said. "There is a bogeyman at the door."
Wyatt scrunched his face up. "You've been pacing for like thirty minutes and that's all you came up with?" The fifteen year old had been preparing himself for some foolhardy plan that would invariably work (because face it: ALL of Chris's plans worked…most of the time) not for Chris to dully state the obvious. After all that was his job.
Chris ignored him swiftly and kept talking to nothing in particular. "There is a magical barrier around the house that prevents magical travel in and out of the manor. Does it prevent physical travel?" he mused. He was quite for a moment. "Wyatt. Go jump out the window," he commanded abruptly.
Wyatt coughed. "Excuse me?"
Chris spun to face him looking irritated. "Go see if you can get out the window," he clarified sharply in a tone that clearly conveyed the fact that he thought Wyatt should have known what he'd wanted instantly.
Noting how much Chris resembled their mother at the moment, Wyatt nodded, still a little unsure what his brother wanted. He was able to open the window with no problem. Unfortunately, the moment he tried to stick a hand out it he was stopped by a painful shock. "Ow," he whined jerking his hand back and inspecting the angrily red fingertips, "that hurt."
Chris shrugged and started pacing again, Wyatt scowling at him. "So we can't physically cross the barrier either. We are safe as long as we're in the attic because the bogeyman theoretically only travels through closets. It doesn't appear to have teleportation abilities. There is no entry in the Book of Shadows and we have no access to any other sources of information. And we're working on a time limit," Chris concluded sadly. "This doesn't sound good."
Listening to Chris list out everything like that certainly did make it sound terrible. Wyatt sucked on his burned fingers gently nodding in agreement with his brother. He winced as his fingers throbbed painfully, not for the first time resenting his inability to self heal.
Chris sighed grabbing a jar off one of the shelves. He scooped out a small amount of some goo-like consistency substance roughly snatching Wyatt's injured hand and smearing the clear goo over the fingertips. Wyatt blinked feeling a soothing tingle as Chris tenderly rubbed the thick liquid into the seared skin.
"Better?" Chris asked wiping his hand off on a handy hand towel.
"Yeah, actually. What is it?" Wyatt said curiously.
Chris rolled his eyes. "Aloe vera." Wyatt stared at him in a silent prompt to continue. "It's a plant," Chris explained. "Aloe vera gel is a common treatment for first to second degree burns."
Wyatt nodded. "Where do you learn this stuff?"
Chris arched an eyebrow from his place by the podium. "Ah, from the miraculous place of listening to Mom when she's talking."
The blonde opened his mouth to reply but snapped it shut looking quickly to the door where the screeching and clawing had just stopped. Chris gravitated to his brother coming to stand just behind him.
Wyatt shushed him with a short gesture. He grabbed Chris's arm pulling him down and around behind the sofa. A snuffling began by the door; the cabinet Chris had slid in front beginning to rock back and forth slightly.
"It's gonna break down the door," Wyatt whispered. "We have to get out of the attic." He glanced around as if unsure how they were to get out with the bogeyman at the door.
Chris rolled his eyes grabbing his brother's elbow and orbing downstairs. He peered around the living room carefully before turning back to Wyatt. "Do you think it knows we left?" he asked softly. He cocked his head intently listening for any sound from upstairs. "I don't hear anything."
Wyatt gestured for silence and crept over to the stairs. Chris held his breath taking a step backwards. The hairs on the back of his neck arched up uncomfortably. "Wyatt," he whispered. His brother just shook a hand at him. Chris frowned. "Wyatt I –"
He cut off as a foul smelling hand clamped over his mouth yanking him down to the floor. Chris screamed, the sound muffled, struggling while the bogeyman pulled him backwards toward the small closet in the corner of the room.
"Chris!" Wyatt leapt down the stairs flinging a hand out at the monster. It didn't stop, didn't even flinch still dragging Chris to the open closet door. Wyatt panicked grabbing lamp and smashing down as hard as he could over the arm holding Chris.
The Freddy Kruger look-a-like backhanded Wyatt hard sending him sprawling to the floor. He groaned blinking lethargically; Chris's screams the only thing keeping him conscious. "Chris." The blonde rolled to his stomach lunging forward to snag Chris's ankle.
"Let go you son of a bitch! He's my brother!" Wyatt yelled pulling back with all the strength he possessed. The bogeyman turned back to him raising his bladed hand ominously. Wyatt swallowed kicking desperately at its arm to break the thing's grip on Chris. It hissed in pain letting go. Immediately Wyatt orbed the two of them to his room.
Depositing Chris on the bed, he telekinetically slid his heavy dresser in front of his door and his large bookcase, filled with more games and movies than books, in front of the closet door.
Chris rolled off the bed, standing stock still, staring wide eyed at the doors. Wyatt regarded him carefully. "Chris? You okay?"
The younger Halliwell redirected his stare to Wyatt. "No!" he practically shouted. "No I'm not okay! How could I be okay! There is a bogyman in our house! Neither of us is okay! I mean what the Hell, Wyatt! What the Hell!" Chris paused sucking in a deep breath. "I couldn't orb! I couldn't throw him! I couldn't freeze him! Son of bitch! That bastard is immune to our damn powers! How the f—"
"Chris!" Wyatt yelled. Chris halted mid-syllable. "Stop swearing," the blonde finished weakly.
Chris scowled at him.
Wyatt sighed. "How about doing something productive until that thing breaks down one of these doors, like thinking?
"Swearing is productive. Studies show it lessens the amount of pain and stress one feels," Chris said bluntly.
"Oh," Wyatt blinked. "Did it help?"
Chris pursed his lips, adopting a thoughtful look before nodding. "Actually, yeah. I'm good. I'll panic again later."
"Good," Wyatt said nodding, "Now what?"
"Why do I always have to come up with the plans?" Chris asked huffing.
"'Cause you're you."
"Well I think you should start pulling your own weight around here."
Wyatt shot his brother a scandalized look. "I do. I take care of all the physical labor, intimidation, and half of the threatening and you come up with the plans."
Chris rolled his eyes but obligingly plopped down on the bed. He bit his lip an expression of thoughtfulness coming over him. "Okay, so there's nothing in the Book because none of the Warren-Halliwell line has ever encountered one. But it's still just a demon or monster in the least so we have three options in our present situation and two possible outcomes."
"Sounds good," Wyatt said. "What are they?"
"Well, Option One is simply making the biggest bad ass potion I can accompanied by the biggest bad ass spell we can come up with and see if it works. Option Two is finding a similar demon in the Book and trying its vanquishing. And Option Three is to play Marco Polo with it until one of the two possible outcomes occurs."
"Right, and what are those?"
Chris sighed. "Well either it's gonna die or... we're gonna die."
Wyatt nodded. "Oh. Right. I vote for Outcome Number One."
"So do I." Chris said. He waved his hand and the Book of Shadows appeared in front of him. He started flipping through the pages.
"What are you looking for?" Wyatt asked coming over to sit next to the brunette.
"Do you remember that story Phoebe told us 'bout that demon in the basement?" Chris said.
"The Woogyman," Chris pressed. "Took over the house and Phoebe? Destroyed Prue's dinner party thing? Happened after an earthquake? Ring a bell?"
"No," Wyatt said again. "But you know something; Woogyman sounds a lot like bogy—Oooh. I get it."
Chris shook his head. "Wow. Way to go."
"Hey," Wyatt complained. "That's abuse. I'm tired and entitled to some slow moments. It's like three in the morning and I've been awake since like midnight."
"It's two twenty-four, Wy. You round down."
"Oh shut up," Wyatt snapped.
Chris obliged finally finding the page. "Here it is. Just a spell." They both leaned over reading the selection.
"I am light. I am one too strong to fight. Go back to dark where shadows dwell. You cannot have this Halliwell. Now go away and leave my sight. And take away this endless night," Chris read softly.
Wyatt nodded. "It might work. We'll alter the wording a bit and say it together. Come on." He got up moving to the door.
"Wait." Chris called. Wyatt paused turning back. "We should prepare the other options too, in case one doesn't work.
"All right. To the attic then?"
Chris nodded. "To the attic." He orbed out followed by Wyatt to reappear upstairs. Wyatt pointed at him.
"You work on the potion, I'll barricade the door."
Chris moved over to the tables pulling out everything he could remember that was dangerous; even things he had been specifically told to "never mix together". Wyatt joined him some minutes later and Chris couldn't help but glance at the door impressed by the solid barricade but worried by the lack of noise. Wyatt said nothing letting Chris work uninterrupted as he grabbed a pencil and paper to attempt a power of two spell.
An hour later Chris dropped in the last of the ingredients he could think of ducking clear to the floor when the thing practically blew up in front of him. He gasped from his prone position and levered himself up to peer cautiously at the caldron on the table which was miraculously still in one piece.
"Perhaps too much wraith dust," he muttered to himself waving a hand to dispel the smoke. Nonetheless it was the strongest he could concoct. Now he just had to let it cool. He turned to Wyatt, mouth open to say such, to be greeted by the sight of his snoring sibling sprawled out on the couch. Chris rolled his eyes picking up the paper with the spell. It would work, he thought reading over it. Crude, but workable. He made some minor adjustments before setting it down by the potion.
Debating slightly Chris plopped down next to Wyatt. He shoved his brother over and laid down himself. He wouldn't sleep, just rest until the potion cooled then wake Wy.
Chris jerked awake suddenly rolling to the right and hitting the floor hard. He gasped realizing he'd fallen asleep just before a crushing weight landed on top of him knocking the wind out of him again.
The sudden snarling and screeching attack on the attic door had jolted both boys from their sleep, and it increased furiously, responding to the noise within. Wyatt struggled up off Chris, pulling the younger boy to his feet. "Did you finish the potion?"
Chris nodded quickly moving to fill to vials. He handed one to Wyatt and kept the other clenched tightly in his own hand. "Should we just wait for it?"
"It might be our best bet," Wyatt said.
They didn't wait long before the bogyman pushed its way through the door. It paused on the threshold seeming to drink in the fear it invoked in the children who were its prey.
Wyatt swallowed reaching back to take Chris's hand and started chanting, Chris following his lead.
"We are light.
We are too strong to fight.
Go back to dark where shadows dwell.
You cannot have these Halliwells.
Now go away and leave our sight.
And take away this endless night."
The blonde exhaled waiting expectantly. Nothing happened. "Chris?"
Chris didn't hesitate flinging his vial at the bogyman and yelling for Wyatt to do the same before chanting off Wyatt's spell.
"Evil comes and evil goes.
Where exactly, no one knows.
Evil, you're no match for this witch,
Be vanquished now you son of a bitch."
The thing screamed, morphing grotesquely, almost melting like the Wicked Witch in Wizard of OZ. It writhed on the floor oozing a vile black colored liquid that bubbled and frothed menacingly. Chris watched it mesmerized hoping against hope that it was dying. His hope fled when it stopped moving and started rising slowly, deadened eyes glaring at him from under dark lank hair.
"I don't think it's working Chris! I don't think it's working!"
"I know! Just don't panic right now," Chris said snatching the Book and tucking it under one arm. "We'll go downstairs and panic."
He moved back over to his brother intending to orb downstairs. The bogyman screamed dashing across the attic faster than Chris thought possible. It grabbed his shirt throwing him sideways and slashing at Wyatt. The Twice-Blessed ducked with shout and scrambled backwards. Chris struggled to his feet and swung the Book like a weapon at the back of the thing's head. The Book's innate force field sprung up, and simultaneously Chris was flung backwards the Book flying from his hands as the bogyman was shoved forward violently. Chris groaned from his rough landing and scrambled over to the Book following Wyatt out of the attic.
They ran down the hall, shrill snarls of anger reverberating through the house.
"I think we made it angry," Wyatt yelled.
"No shit! Ya think!"
"Now what?" the blonde hollered over his shoulder.
Chris glanced backwards seeing no sign of the bogyman. "Run!" he shouted, "run and hide!" He spun back around gasping and slamming right into the sick looking decayed girl. The bogyman wacked him across the face and Chris hit the banister hard, the Book sliding from his grip and falling over the railing to thud dully on the floor in the foyer. Chris choked, smashed into the wall before he was thrown over the railing himself to follow the Book's path.
Impacting the loveseat hard, Chris cried out as it crashed forward colliding him into the coffee table which collapsed under the force. He rolled over painfully. "Damn cheap furniture," he muttered crawling to the Book.
"Wyatt!" he shouted hearing several thumps from upstairs.
"I'm good bro!" Wyatt was suddenly beside him hauling him to his feet. "But we gotta go."
The boys scrambled through the foyer Chris leading them to the kitchen. He flung the door to the basement open and shoved Wyatt in. He clambered down the stairs in the dark tossing a small ball of orbs in the air when he reached the bottom. Thumping the Book down, he flipped through it frantically.
"There has to be something," Chris muttered. Wyatt said nothing watching the stairs attentively.
Chris slammed the Book shut after a bit swearing colorfully and dropped his head to his hands. Wyatt bit his lip, casting one last look up the stairs, and sunk into a cross-legged position across from his brother.
"It'll be okay, Chris," he said softly.
"Really? How?" Chris asked voice muffled.
Wyatt shrugged. "Not sure, just know that it will be."
Chris lapsed into silence staring at the far wall. Wyatt yawned, suddenly very tired. He laid down, closing his eyes and feeling the cold from the cement floor seep through his clothing. He heard Chris shift and felt a warm shoulder press against his as Chris stretched out beside him. They stayed in companionable silence for awhile neither boy willing to break it.
"How long until it finds us, do you think?" Chris finally said softly.
"I don't know," Wyatt replied. "Hopefully a bit longer." Both boys were quite again.
"Chris," Wyatt said a couple minutes later.
Wyatt bit his lip. "How come we're not dead?" he whispered.
Chris rolled over leaning on his elbows. "What? You want to be dead or something?"
"No. Definitely not. But the thing had numerous chances to kill us. Why all of this?" he said waving his hands vaguely.
Chris frowned and shrugged. "Guess he likes to play with his food. We are trapped and all. Maybe it makes us more tasty."
The younger boy blinked at him and shook his head with a faint smile. "Sure Wy, like foreplay."
"So…you come up with something to do yet?" Wyatt said.
Chris rolled his eyes replying sarcastically. "No. I'm open to suggestions if you've got any?"
Wyatt chewed his lip for a moment. "Well we could try laughing at it," he remarked dryly.
Chris froze and slowly looked at his brother. He blinked and smiled. "Oh my god you're brilliant," he breathed sitting up.
"What? Wait. Are you sure you heard me right?"
Chris nodded leaning forward eagerly. "Yes. Listen, the bogeyman is theorized to have no set appearance. He's an amorphous embodiment of terror that feeds off of our fear. If we cut that off or provide the opposite, like happiness or amusement, maybe it will vanquish him. Like when the aunts and Mom used Dad's anger that one time to vanquish Lord Dyson."
"Lord Dy-who? Nevermind. So we're going to laugh? At the bogeyman?"
Chris nodded empathically.
"You want me…to laugh at Freddy Kruger while he tries to shish kabob me?" Wyatt asked disbelief evident in his tone.
Chris glared at him. "No, I want you to sing Mary Poppins and give him a spoonful of sugar," he snapped.
"Okay now I'm confused. What?" Wyatt said completely derailed from whatever thought train his brother was on.
Chris huffed, resisting the urge to smack Wyatt upside the head. "You are such an idiot! I want you to laugh at Fred while he shish kabobs you," he said.
"Make up your mind Chris," Wyatt said grinning, "either I'm brilliant or I'm an idiot. Which is it?"
"You're a brilliant idiot," Chris muttered, "Though I'm not sure how that one works."
"Acceptable," Wyatt agreed. "'Kay, so what am I doing again?"
Chris closed his eyes and ground his teeth. "Laughing at Freddy while he shish kabobs you," he bit out tightly.
Wyatt frowned playfully. "Can I skip the shish kabobing part? 'Cause personally, I think it sounds painful."
Chris glowered at him, the orb lights dimming slightly.
"Okay, okay. I'll be serious," Wyatt relented. "How are we gonna do this? I mean, I don't know about you, but I'm not too inclined to laugh at the thing upstairs."
"I don't know, Wy. We're just going to have to figure something out. Insult it, joke with it, I don't know. I don't even know that it will work for sure, but we've got no other option. Well you know, except dying of course."
"That's morbid," Wyatt said before nodding. "All right then." He climbed to his feet dusting himself off and holding out a hand for Chris to take. "Let's do this."
They crept up the stairs silently moving cautiously through the kitchen and into the dining room.
"Where do you think it is?" Wyatt whispered.
"How the heck should I know?"
"Well you're the brains of this outfit remember?"
Chris huffed, "With the number of times you remind me I ought to. If we make enough noise it should come right to us at any rate."
Wyatt shrugged glancing at his brother and walking over to the foot of the stairs. "Okay. Here goes." He sucked in a deep breath before shouting at the top of his lungs, "Hey dipstick! Yes you! The old man with the funny lookin' hat and freakishly long fingers! We're down here!"
Chris arched an eyebrow looking at Wyatt amusedly. The amusement didn't last long, quashed beneath the fear as a sudden heavy thump sounded from one of the upstairs rooms. He swallowed turning to keep a watchful eye on the closet door in the corner. Silence fell upstairs and Chris stared at the wood door.
"Hey Wy?" he whispered.
"What?" Wyatt said distractedly.
"Why can it only travel through closets?" Chris asked moving towards the door.
"I dunno. 'Cause it needs a messy room," the blonde said keeping his eyes on the stairs.
Chris shook his head and turned the knob on the door. "No. Because it needs a room that's completely dark."
He yanked the door open flicking on all the lights in the room telekinetically at the same time. The bogeyman reeled backwards in the closet screaming. Chris stepped away, nearly tripping when Wyatt grabbed his arm and shoved him behind protectively.
"How did you know it was in there?" Wyatt shouted.
"Um, I guessed?" Chris answered.
"Well, uh, laugh. I'm not really feeling the need to laugh right now."
"Yeah me either."
"Chris? This was a terrible idea," Wyatt said, swallowing thickly.
Chris shook his head. "Nonsense. There are no terrible ideas. Just poorly executed awesome ones."
The bogeyman lunged forward and Chris instinctively orbed away feeling Wyatt do the same beside him. He rematerialized upstairs immediately flattening himself against the wall and holding his breath. There was a slight noise down the hallway and Chris slid along the wall opening the first door he encountered and slipping inside. It was a closet.
"Really, Chris," he fumed quietly to himself, "You're running away from the freaking bogeyman and you hide in the closet!" He froze covering his mouth with his hands to muffle the sound of his breathing as he heard shuffling movement outside the door. It was quiet for a second and then the knob began to turn bit by bit. Chris inhaled slowly. The door eased outward light flooding through the small opening and Chris kicked it smashing the heavy wood into the thing. A low grunt sounded from behind the door and Chris kicked it again harder as it rebounded.
The door hit the thing for a second time bouncing back and then swung open with agonizing slowness. Chris kept his stance as ready as he could in the small space and his mouth dropped open in surprise when the door opened fully to reveal Wyatt sitting on the floor with his hands clamped over his bleeding nose.
"Oh…" Chris said trailing off. He knelt by his brother wincing at the pain he'd unwittingly caused Wyatt.
"Holwee sheet Cwis! Are you trwyin to kiel mea? I man oh mhy gawd!" Wyatt growled shoving Chris's gently probing hands away.
"Actually yes. But if you hadn't snuck up on me like that and had announced yourself this wouldn't have happen," Chris retorted.
"Oh sho now thish is mhy fault?"
"Well of course. You've lived with me for thirteen years you should know by now it's always your fault." Chris pulled Wyatt to his feet once again tugging Wyatt's hands from his nose.
"Luckily yer right so thish ridiculous behaavior yer exibiting doeshn't throw me," Wyatt replied thickly, voice a little less slurred.
"Shut up," Chris said. "Your nose isn't broken. Big surprise there."
"Yahy me," Wyatt said cynically. He froze suddenly, eyes widening as he stared past Chris's head. The younger boy gulped.
"It's standing right behind me isn't it?" he asked.
Wyatt didn't answer, instead throwing himself forward to tackle Chris and orbing so they landed on the floor in the foyer. They scrambled to their feet gazes set on the stairs as the bogeyman descended slowly. Wyatt cleared his throat.
"Ya know, I heard that when the bogeyman goes to sleep he checks his closet for Chuck Norris," the blonde said in a conversational tone.
Chris blinked before laughing at the sheer lameness in the comment. "Really? Is that the best you can do?"
Wyatt glared at him. "Hey, I'm workin' under pressure here."
Chris shook his head directing his attention back on the decayed girl at the foot of the stairs. He moved to the left gradually motioning for Wyatt to move to the right so they flanked the monstrosity.
"I wonder Wy. If we throw water on it, will it scream and melt like the Wicked Witch?" Chris asked.
Wyatt shrugged. "Dunno, seems ugly enough I think. Um, so, uh, what do little bogeymen eat?"
"What!" Chris said. "What are you doing now?"
"I don't know. Boogers."
Wyatt laughed. "No. Alpha bat soup. You're turn."
"Um…I don't know corny jokes. That's your forte," Chris said.
"Well, make one up then."
"Um…what's the bogeyman's favorite game?"
Wyatt frowned in concentration. "Ooh. I know this one…um, hide and seek!"
"Good try but no cigar. Swallow the leader," Chris said grinning.
"My turn," Wyatt said rubbing his hands together. He snapped his fingers. "Got it! What kind of monster likes to dance a lot?" he asked doing an odd sort of jig across the floor.
The bogeyman stopped at the base of the stairs seemingly confused as it turned from Wyatt to Chris. He watched fascinated as it seemed to shimmer, warping from a decayed girl to the gooey blob and back.
"Wyatt, you see that?"
"Yeah, keep going with the laughing. Answer my joke."
"What was it again?"
Wyatt huffed. "Memory of a goldfish, I swear."
"You shouldn't swear, Wy," Chris said condescendingly. "It's bad for the karma."
"Says the kid who swears more than I do," Wyatt pointed out.
Chris shrugged. "I operate like the government. Say one thing and do the opposite."
"So your answer to what monster likes to dance a lot?"
"Well, Wyatt, I'd have to go with the bogeyman," Chris said. "Final answer."
Chris racked his brain trying to come up with another corny joke and striking nothing. "Um, roses are red, violets are blue, god made me pretty, what the Hell happened to you?"
The bogeyman screamed lunging forward and Chris threw himself sideways out of the way. Wyatt grabbed his arm dragging him away and painfully wrenching his arm.
"Oowww," Chris complained.
"Shut up. It's not working," Wyatt hissed. He pulled Chris down behind the sofa with him clamping his hands over his ears as the bogeyman screeched again.
"I can see that!" Chris said wincing at the piercing noise.
"What are we gonna do? You have any more brilliant plans? I don't. I'm fresh outta of ideas period. We're gonna end up Alpha bat soup. I don't—"
"Wyatt!" Chris yanked on his brother's arm. "The Book! Look at the Book!"
Wyatt turned, inhaling sharply when he saw the pages of the Book flipping by themselves. Chris pulled away from him scampering over to the Book. "Chris!" Wyatt shouted scrambling after him.
Chris flattened the page already reading whatever was on it by the time Wyatt reached him.
The bogeyman turned to the boys snarling maliciously and charging at them. Chris sucked in a deep breath shouting quickly.
"When in the circle that is home
Safety's gone and evils roam
Rid all beings from these walls
Save brothers two
Now heed our call!"
Wyatt threw his arms over his brother as the bogeyman screamed, the sound seeming to echo through dimensions.
"Dad?" Piper asked surprised meeting up with Victor on the sidewalk in front of the manor. "I thought you were watching the boys?" Worry tinged her tone as she regarded her father.
Victor chuckled. "Sorry, honey. I got called into the office this morning. I was supposed to be back earlier but…" he trailed off with a slight shrug. "Wyatt is fifteen now, I'm sure he managed to hold down the fort for a bit."
Piper shook her head with a sigh trudging up the steps and unlocking the door. "I know, Dad. It's just with all the demons and witch stuff I don't want to leave the boys alone even if they're only with you—Oh! My! God!" She let the door swing closed hitting Victor as he pushed in behind her.
"Ouch! Piper? What's—oh." Victor stopped instantly beside his daughter absorbing the scene before him with wide eyes.
Wyatt and Chris stood in the middle of what had been the foyer. The circler table and vase of flowers was smashed along with the small loveseat beneath the stairs and coffee table. The walls, floor, and boys were covered with a dark slime that dripped from the ceiling, banisters, and Chris's longer hair. Wyatt face was smeared with blood and there was a large purplish lump on his forehead. He shifted his feet awkwardly while Chris peered at Piper with a wide eyed innocent expression.
Piper shook her head recovering her voice. "What the heck happened!" she demanded looking at Wyatt.
Wyatt gulped glancing at Chris. The brunette held up a hand capturing his mother's attention. "Uh, Mum…I can explain everything."
New Book of Shadows Entry:
(Bold Wyatt, Italics Chris)
AKA: Boogieman, bogeyman, bogieman, bogyman (Christ! How many ways can you spell that? Shut up.)
The boogeyman is an amorphous being of fear who will adapt the form of what scares you the most. For example, a psychopathic murderer such as Freddy Kruger. The boogeyman is an intelligent being not easily fooled or tricked. He stalks his prey and enjoys playing with his food (that would be you). As his greatest power is fear, all witches' powers are temporarily ineffective against him to an extent. Master your fear and you'll regain control. Think happy thoughts or picture the creep being roasted on a spit. Other powers include an encompassing force field to confine its prey to a specific area. Like a house; you won't be able to leave and no one will be able to enter. Also boogeymen can teleport only through entirely dark rooms; most common being closets. Keep yours clean, maybe you'll earn brownie points. (At the very least you'll get some from your mother if not the boogeyman)
To vanquish the boogeyman you must first laugh at him, yes, laugh. The boogeyman thrives off fear and in order to weaken him to the point of vulnerability to be vanquished you must remove the support of your fear. The most effective means it to find something humorous in or around the boogeyman. Just laugh at it. Insult it, joke with it, bash it on the head with an iron skillet. After weakening it use the below spell to vanquish it.
When in the circle that is home
Safety's gone and evils roam
Rid all beings from these walls
Save witches three*
Now heed our call**
*Amend line four to fit your situation
**And bring a mop; it's gonna be messy
And there you go. Hope you liked it. I'll try to have The Other Side updates shortly. :) bye y'all