Dark Moon - Michael Langdon

Part 13 - Nightmares

This must be a dream. I immediately pinch my forearm and am met by no pain. Okay, definitely a dream. But why the hell am I having this dream about all these witches I've never met?

I walk over to ask Queenie what's happening when Michael steps into the room, except he's different. His hair is slightly longer, he's wearing a long black coat, and a strange short woman with dark hair is by his side.

"Clearly that mantra's bullshit," he announces. The witches all look up, obviously shocked to see him.

"What the hell is going on?" I interject.

He ignores me as he states, "I told Cordelia what I was going to do to all of you."

Zoe quickly throws all of the metal scraps from the table at Michael with her powers. He simply raises an arm to stop them midair, watching almost-amusedly as they float in front of him. He flicks his hand towards the table, and the shards fly at the witches, killing everyone sitting at the table.

The woman steps out from behind Michael, pulling her hand off to show a gun. Before I can begin to react, she fires a single shot, hitting Zoe in the head. Zoe immediately falls backward, dying as soon as the bullet impacts her.

"No!" I shout, unfreezing from my stupor as I race to Zoe's side. It takes one glance at literal war machine lady standing next to Michael for me to decide I don't have enough time to perform Vitalum Vitalis. Remembering Michael's ability to destroy souls, I quickly perform a spell to take her soul from her body, making it impossible for Michael to destroy it.

"Mead, what the hell are you doing here?" Queenie shouts at the woman (whose name I'm guessing is Mead). Queenie slits her throat, which also slits Mead's throat; however, a strange white liquid pours from Mead's throat rather than blood. Mead raises her gun and shoots Queenie, unaffected by her slashed throat.

"No!" I yell again, scrambling over to Queenie's body to perform the same soul-protecting spell.

Just as I finish the spell and am about to move onto another witch, Michael reaches around to grab me by the front of my throat, pulling me to my feet as he turns me to face him.

"Michael, why?" I ask, tears pricking at the corners of my eyes.

"I've told you why," he responds coldly, his eyes devoid of emotion. His voice is hard and unforgiving as he demands, "Give me their souls."

"I don't have their souls," I lie, knowing that something is terribly wrong with this version of Michael.

He glares at me, then raises his free hand as if he is about to slap me. However, he closes his fist and I scream in pain as my ankle shatters. He releases my neck, and, unable to stand on my ankle, I collapse to the floor.

I lie in agony on the floor, trying to transmutate, but it's like my powers are blocked. How the hell am I feeling all this pain when I'm just dreaming? At the beginning of this, I couldn't feel a pinch, but now I'm feeling my entire ankle being shattered. "Something's wrong," I utter as I prop myself up on my elbows.

"You think?" Michael asks mockingly, slowly circling me like a predator circling its prey. "You see, Esmeray, you are too shallow and naive to see that this is your fault. That I would not be slaughtering your whole coven were it not for you."

"Michael, what the hell are you talking about?" I ask, my pain clear in my voice.

Without warning, he grabs one of my arms, using it to drag me to my feet. He harshly pulls me flush against his side, his cold eyes bearing into mine once more. "You're not even worth my time," he spits. "Give me their souls, and I'll stop hurting you."