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English
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Published:
2022-12-01
Updated:
2022-12-13
Words:
912
Chapters:
2/?
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64
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the death of a flame

Summary:

Wednesday tries - she really, really, does, but there’s something foreign and thick clawing up her throat, crushing her windpipe. There’s a strange, jarring noise spilling past her lips. 

Wednesday realizes she's crying with a start. 

She remembers her vow. Remembers Nero and his crushed-up body and the sneers of the bullies. The gravestone, the flowers, the snow.

This is it. The beginning of the end.

or

Goody takes too long to show up after Crackstone stabs her. Will anyone come for Wednesday? or will she be left to die alone in that crypt?

Notes:

yall im so sorry i'm bored lol

(See the end of the work for more notes.)

Chapter 1: the beginning of the end

Chapter Text

She’s alone. Utterly alone. Left to die. Wednesday Addams, not-very-loved daughter, sister. Friend. (Maybe.) She doesn’t feel scared. She doesn’t feel much at all, honestly. 

Wednesday has always found death fascinating, exciting, interesting - she’s brushed with it and it embraced her, in all of its cold, dark, glory, and kissed her on the cheek - but Wednesday isn’t ready. 

Wednesday thinks of Pugsley, of the way he would weep, would have no one to stand up for him. She thinks of her father, maybe his broad, yellow-toothed smile would never see the light of day again. She thinks of her mother hearing the news.

She thinks about her… friends. There’s a small voice in the back of her head that tells her that they wouldn’t really care. But she knows that Enid and Eugene would be crushed. Maybe even Xavier.

Xavier.

Would he show up to her funeral? Would he return to Nevermore and sit alone in his shed? Would he paint her? Maybe he would even cry a little.

Most of all, though, Wednesday couldn’t live with herself if she died before the mystery was solved. Before the case was closed and the villain was defeated and everything was resolved and handed off to her, wrapped neatly and nicely in a black box with a black ribbon. Wednesday wanted Crackstone to fall, and she wanted to be there for it.

But she doesn’t think she’ll make it that long.

She can hear her own voice, harsh, scolding. 

Emotion will get you nowhere. 

I don’t do tears. 

Feelings are weaknesses.

Wednesday tries - she really, really, does, but there’s something foreign and thick clawing up her throat, crushing her windpipe. There’s a strange, jarring noise spilling past her lips. 

I’m crying , Wednesday realizes with a start. 

She remembers her vow. Remembers Nero and his crushed-up body and the sneers of the bullies. The gravestone, the flowers, the snow.

This is it. The beginning of the end.

Wednesday lets her head loll to the side. She feels bad. Stagnant, still, helpless. Her tears trace over the bridge of her nose, mingle with the caked blood on her forehead, and drip onto the floor, leaving stains of diluted crimson. 

With trembling hands, the girl reaches for the hilt protruding from her stomach. Feels the  slick warmth of her own blood.

She watches wisps of smoke curl from extinguished candles. There’s a puddle of hot wax pooling under the candles to her right. 

Wednesday can feel herself slipping. She’s actively fighting to keep her eyes open. It’s a losing battle.

Her breaths come in desperate, grating gasps. Wednesday knows she's dying and knows there’s nothing she can do about it. 

Suddenly, the doors bang open and Wednesday flinches.

It’s Thornhill coming back to finish her off. it has to be. Nevermore is gone, Wednesday’s failed. She closes her eyes.

This is it, she thinks. The end of the end.

Chapter 2: too late

Summary:

It’s too dim to see much, but he enters anyway. “Wednesday?” He calls into the darkness.

The blood moon casts a reddish glow on everything. There are candles lining the stone walls, still smoldering. A gasping breath draws his attention to the far end of the room.

Notes:

hey guys, sorry this took so long and sorry this is so short
i got SA’ed by my classmate literally the day after I posted the first part so my mental health took a nosedive 🥳
but yeah sorry if this sucks I haven’t slept in four days and eaten in two so my brain is foggy as hell and I can’t feel my feet
hopefully the next chapter wont suck sorry guys

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

Xavier let out a yell of frustration, pounding his fists against the glass of the cop car. 

He sat for a moment in the ringing silence, breathing heavily, chains jangling around his neck.

The chains were the icing on the cake. Xavier felt like an animal. He felt stupid. He didn’t even know cops were allowed to chain people up anymore.

He thinks about Wednesday. Of her braids and her red lips and her eyes shut, fingers darting up and down the neck of her cello as she played. The way a ghost of a smile appeared on her face when she finished a piece on one strong downbow. How effortlessly she did vibrato or shifted positions. How her bow was always straight and how perfect her intonation was. 

Now, Xavier was no musician, but he was an artist, so he knew enough to know that Wednesday was a masterpiece.

Xavier remembers the hurt on her face. He feels the urge to apologize. She’s not here, though, so the guilt just sits uncomfortably in his chest.

There’s a scrabbling noise and a squeak. Xavier looks behind him.

It’s Thing.

“Yes! Yes , Thing!” He laughs with glee as Thing opens the car door and begins to pick the locks on his chains. Thing’s normally precise fingers are shaking badly, and once Xavier’s chains fall in a heap on the floor of the cop car, he climbs out and sets Thing on the roof of the car.

“What’s wrong?”

Thing launches into a hurry of frantic signs.

“Whoa. Thing, slow down.”

Thing pauses for a moment, as if to take a breath.

W-E-D-N-E-S-D-A-Y, they sign. T-A-K-E-N. 

Xavier’s mouth goes dry. “Who took her? Is she alright?”

T-H-O-R-N-H-I-L-L, T-Y-L-E-R. H-U-R-T.

“Thornhill and Tyler hurt Wednesday?”

Thing nods. Or rather, shakes his fist.

Anger burns hot in his throat.

“Where is she?”

C-R-A-C-K-S-T-O-N-E-S C-R-Y-P-T.

Xavier grabs Thing and runs.

When he arrives at the crypt, he finds the doors slightly ajar. Xavier doesn’t even stop running, just sticks out his palms and lets the doors bang open in front of him. 

It’s too dim to see much, but he enters anyway. “Wednesday?” He calls into the darkness.

The blood moon casts a reddish glow on everything. There are candles lining the stone walls, still smoldering. A gasping breath draws his attention to the far end of the room.

“Wednesday!” Xavier repeats, rushing to the slumped form.

She was sprawled on the floor, chains at her feet and a knife in her stomach. 

Xavier’s heart stops right then and there.

He’s too late.

Notes:

thanks for reading lol please leave comments or kudos I need the will to live 🧍

Notes:

thanks for reading and yes there is a second part I just broke it up into chapter one and two so there's more suspense lmao