Cole and Phoebe's House -- Della Rosa Burrough -- Trapped
The dream started out enjoyable enough. She lay bed in bed with Cole; he moved against her, his hands drifting over her chest, sliding lower to her hips. The familiar fire coursed through her body like it always did when her soulmate was touching her. She moaned softly as his teeth scraped against her neck and then the hollow of her throat. His hands moved under her shirt, his fingers tracing the curve of her breast. She writhed in her sleep as his hands and mouth traveled over her body. Her back arched as she pressed herself against him, whimpering softly. Her breath came in short gasps as her need for him became more frantic.He lifted her up enough to tear her shirt off of her, and then slammed her back down onto the bed, pinning her there with his body. She whimpered when she felt him jerk her arms above her head and hold them there.
"Cole," she sighed, arching her body against his. "Cole."
That's when she felt the hand come around her throat and start squeezing.
"Cole?" she questioned in confusion. The confusion turned to fear when the hand around her throat cut off her voice.
"'Fraid not, my love."
Phoebe's eyes flew open and she tried to scream.
...she wasn't in her room any longer. It was the damn dreamscape again, the place of her nightmares. Cole wasn't there, just the shadowy figure that had been haunting her for the last week or two. She tried to stay calm. She was strong. She was a witch, a Charmed One. She wasn't prey. There were people who would come look for her if she didn't show up. Cole was out at the school, but if she didn't show up to the classes they shared, he'd know. He'd seek her out and feel that something was wrong. If she didn't show up to Tara's classes, Tara knew she hadn't been sleeping right. But she hadn't heeded Cole's advice and talked to her about them. She hadn't wanted to worry her sister. If she didn't show up to Anita's classes? Anita would come and find her. If she disappeared completely? CJ. She had no doubt that CJ would find her --- or have someone find her. No matter what, she wouldn't be allowed to just disappear without a trace. She could ride this out until someone knew she was gone.
"That's not how this works, my love," that voice came again. "You're asleep and you won't wake up unless I allow you to. So, even if someone does remember to come look for you -- and they won't, you're a forgotten -- all they will find is a comatose witch whom they cannot wake up."
Phoebe glared in the direction of the voice. "You do not know whom you are messing with," she warned him as she pushed against what was holding her down. "I'm not forgotten." She felt anger start rising in her. "You are fucking with the wrong witch, my friend. My family and my friends will not stop until they find me... "
There was a soft laugh.
"No one can hear you scream here, Phoebe. You'd better hope and pray that you make it safe back to your own world. You'd better hope and pray that you wake one day in your own world. 'Cuz when you sleep at night, they don't hear your cries in your own world. Only time will tell, if you can break the spell back in your own world."
The laugh came again. "Scream all you want, Phoebe. Cry all you want. No one will come to your rescue. Not even your precious Belthazor will hear you."
Phoebe woke with a sobbing scream.
She looked around and found herself in the confines of the master bedroom of their house. Trying to not go into hysterics, Phoebe stumbled from the bed and grabbed a blanket. She went downstairs and curled up in front of the fireplace on the couch.
She was safe. She was safe.
[[OOC: Some of the bad guy's words are written by Shakespear's Sister]]