Drake

Wyatt wasted no time in orbing me into what I assume to be his bedroom. The room is devoid of light, the windows covered by dark-out curtains.

The rest of the room is furnished with satins and leathers, red for the most part. His sheets, as I have been thrown back on as I try to exit, are black silk with a red comforter. His modernist decor blends with a gothic style to make a hauntingly beautiful room.

I marvel as I try my hardest to escape the room. Hours pass before the lock clicks and the door creaks open. I rush over and yank the door open as I march out into the hallway.

The hallway is devoid of the usual pictures of the Halliwell family, replaced by paintings of him as well as the Sisters and Leo. One picture strikes me in the gut. The picture is the only photograph on the wall.

Wyatt and I are staring at each other lovingly. We are both dressed in what I would call sado-formal wear. I realize I look just as good in leather as Wyatt does.

Rustling down the hall calls me to follow the noise. I come into a large, open area between the living room and kitchen. A round table with etching inscribed on it. On top of the table, a candelabra burns brightly. The darkness of the room confirms night has fallen as the light from the candle shines across the table onto Wyatt's face.

Wyatt waits patiently as I finally walk over, sitting across from him. The moment our eyes lock, neither of us can look away. He is not afraid of me, not like I am of him.

"I killed Bianca." Wyatt says. "I've killed many people. Bianca was...unfortunate. She was one hell of a soldier. A traitor, too."

"What about Chris?" I ask.

Wyatt inhales. "No. He got away. Never came back. Though, I suspect he, too, is dead. Or he'd have come back for his vengeance."

"As he should."

Wyatt slams his hand on the table. "He started all of this! His little insurrection was the genesis of all this chaos! He was a little brat who was always jealous of what I am."

"And what's that?"

"Powerful. I am the most powerful being in the world." Wyatt says.

"This world." I say. "There are hundreds of worlds."

"There are billions. None of them know what I know." Wyatt says. "There are billions of iterations of our lives. The truth is, my Drake lost the light in his eyes long ago. The spark, the same spark I see in you, left him."

"I'm not him."

"No, you're not. You're tougher. You are—I hope you understand why I cannot allow you to leave." Wyatt says. "You've seen the kind of madness I deal with. I need an equal. I need someone who can stand beside me, and it was always meant to be you."

"You're nuts! I need to get back to my reality."

Wyatt laughs. "This is your reality now. I am your reality."

"Because that worked out so well before?"

"It was an accident." Wyatt says.

Wyatt's tone falters from its normal confident tone. I recognize the tone. His guilt grows before he buries it back down. I press further until I am in his mind, watching as memories flash forward.

The dark, harsh world Wyatt has cultivated is nothing compared to the dark, harsh world Wyatt created for himself. The memories come to a grinding halt as a vision of this world's Drake settles at the front of my mind.

Drake watches nervously as Wyatt and Chris argue about Wyatt's dark nature. Chris begins talking about their parents, striking as many nerves as possible until Wyatt snaps.

Wyatt attempts attacking Chris, but mistakenly hits Drake. The impact of the shockwave knocks Drake out of the attic window and he tumbles to the ground below.

The vision forces me out of his mind. His eyes are wide, staring at me in disbelief. Wyatt stands, as do I. I push away from the desk and he holds his hands in the air.

"It was an accident. I never meant to harm you." Wyatt says. "You got in the way, as you often did. When we found out about Chris, you protected him, told me I should show him mercy. The treacherous little bastard planned a coup right under our noses and you wanted me to forgive him and let him continue to be complacent in his mediocrity."

"Stay away from me." I say.

"I am not the monster here."

"Aren't you? You killed the man you loved because you were trying to murder your own brother over power!" I say. "Did it make you happy? Does all the power you have make you any less alone."

"I regret little. I have done all that I have to survive. My one regret is that night." Wyatt says. "I had resigned myself to thinking I could not have it all. The most powerful person in the world, and I thought I would be alone. And fate dropped you on my front door."

"You're sick."

"We could rule this world together. You were correct about the crystal. I planned to use the crystal's power to augment my own. The power of the All could do many things."

"What else could you possibly do to this world? What were you going to do with it?" I ask.

"Right a wrong." He says. "It doesn't matter now."

Wyatt walks around the table and I dodge to the other side. He stares at me, frustrated. He investigates the air before he tells me to get down. I watch in horror as another robed woman appears beside a blond man. A group of witches arrive at their side immediately as a robed figure begins pelting Wyatt with fire balls.

A fight ensues as demons shimmer in to protect Wyatt. The witches jump into action as Wyatt and the robed woman engage in what I can only describe as telepathic warfare.

Wyatt is being attacked by the woman as well as the blond man. He effortlessly fends off the stream of fire surrounding him while still engaging the woman.

The woman shouts that Wyatt killed her sister as she calls him many curse words. Wyatt finally falters as a flame singes his hand. The woman, announcing herself as Christy, takes the opportunity to pelt him with psychic attacks.

I watch in horror as she walks to him, standing over him. I shout across the room, causing her to look over at me. She is distracted as a guard shimmers in behind her and impales her with a tribal spear. I watch as the blond man runs to her and catches her as she is falling.

The witches disappear, leaving the man with the demons. I shout again as I run forward. A fireball sails through the air and knocks me off my feet before I can reach him.

Wyatt yells into the air as he telekinetically grabs the demon and begins launching energy balls at the remaining demons. The blond man runs towards me, tackling me to the ground as I feel myself disappear.

The dark engulfs us as we hit a hard, wooden surface. The man falls beside me as I look up at the arched ceiling of Magic School. My vision becomes blurry as a familiar face ducks into view.

"This can't be!" Tristan says. "Tyler, where is Christy?"

I smile as I feel my eyes roll into the back of my head. I never thought I would be so relieved to see Tristan again.