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The monster was like nothing she had ever seen before.
It had stolen into the manor just after midnight. She'd woken from an uneasy slumber to a waiting, silent house. She'd slipped from bed and slung her robe around her shoulders. Before leaving her bedroom, she drew a sword from the stand beside the door.
One never knew when there'd be an attempted murder. Or her father wanting a duel.
The floorboards were icy beneath her bare feet, each step creaking ominously.
Home sweet home. There really was no place like it.
A warm breeze ruffled her bangs. It was like lukewarm fingers brushed them away from her eyes. Her skin crawled.
A grotesque face swam up from the darkness, shoving her into the wall as it barrelled past and back into the darkness.
Wednesday's breath caught in her throat as she slid down the wall.
She had only gotten a glimpse, but what a sight.
Dirty, gray skin like that of a corpse. Bloodshot eyes that bulged from its sockets. And sharp dagger-like teeth that dripped with saliva.
She had to see it again.
Wednesday pushed up from the ground and stalked as silently as she could after it. She gripped the hilt of her sword, her hand unexpectedly damp.
She stopped. What was coming over her? It was not like her to have a stress response. She was no damsel or wilting flower. She detested such people.
A scream split the air, before a small explosion shook the manor.
Pugsley.
Wednesday sprinted down the hall to his room and threw the door open. Books, tools, and small explosives littered the floor. Shelves were ripped down and the bed was in pieces.
The monster stood, silhouetted against the far wall. Its hairy shoulders rose and fell in ragged pants. Pugsley was held in its grasp.
“Wednesday! Help me,” he cried.
The monster roared and threw itself at one of the windows. The wall cracked as it slammed into it. It held only for a moment before the monster pushed completely through and leaped away.
Wednesday ran across the room and peered into the darkness. She could just make out the shape of the creature running away, her brother in tow.
Her sword fell to the ground at her feet. She braced her hands against the rubble.
No one took what was hers. She'd find her brother and the monster that took him. And she'd teach it why no one crossed the Addams family.
It was easy to find something with Pugsley’s essence, a compass, and the pendulum. The spell to find what was lost was child's play. Or at least she'd been using it since she was a child.
So it was that a dressed and armed Wednesday walked into the garage. The pendulum hung from her grasp, raising itself northeast.
Closest to her was the family car. She passed it to a covered vehicle. She yanked the cover towards her and it fell away from the antique hearse her father had gotten for her when she turned fifteen. He had bought it in the hopes of teaching her to drive, forgetting that it had been many years since he drove himself anywhere and that Wednesday had been taking the family car since she could see over the wheel.
But the old Cadillac hearse was roomy and would do well to transport the creature's corpse once she'd caught it.
Wednesday hung the pendulum from the rearview mirror, where she could see it as she drove. She found the key in the sun visor and started the car. It purred to life and she allowed a small smirk of pleasure. Perhaps her father hadn't been so misguided when he bought the car for her.
The garage door opened and she drove through it and down the driveway. She looked at the pendulum. It had changed to pull more north. She turned onto the street and accelerated.
The monster had moved quickly. Wednesday crossed four state lines before the pendulum showed that she was close. She passed a sign and rolled her eyes.
Jericho, Vermont was ten miles away.
Her parents had been pushing for her to attend Nevermore since before she could walk. If she had not seen the creature she would have thought her parents had created the whole ruse to finally have her visit the school.
She pushed down harder on the accelerator.
Wednesday nearly missed when the crystal tugged away from the road. She pulled over, sending gravel flying. The road was empty and dark. Dawn was still over an hour away.
She took the pendulum and left the car, entering the woods. It was darker beneath the trees and eerily quiet. No birds sang, no creatures chattered upon waking.
Everything knew there was something unnatural in these woods.
She ran through the woods, adjusting her path according to the pendulum. When she crested a hill and saw the crypt below she knew she found them. Light spilled from the open door and she could hear the murmur of voices.
Wednesday crept down the hill, a dagger in her hand now. The voices became clearer as she neared. Her brother, whimpering and sniffling. Typical. And a woman.
“Your ancestor sealed Joseph Crackstone in his sarcophagus. A seal that will be broken with your blood. He will rise from the dead and finally rid the world of outcasts.”
An insane woman.
Wednesday peered through the open doorway.
The sarcophagus stood in the middle of the floor, surrounded by jars which looked to have body parts in them. Another body was crumpled beside one of the jars.
Her brother hung from chains, his toes barely touching the ground. Blood stained his striped sweater.
A woman in overalls and red boots stood between him and the sarcophagus, a large book held in her arms.
“I had wanted your sister to act as the key, but Tyler made a mistake. He took you instead,” the woman said, stepping closer to Pugsley. “But anyone of your line can be used. He'll be punished later, but you'll be just as dead as you would have been.”
Wednesday's eyes darted to the woman's face and then around the crypt. The monster was nowhere to be seen. The monster named Tyler?
She stood and walked into the crypt. “You wanted me and now I'm here,” she said, raising her voice. “Be careful what you wish for.”
The woman stepped past her brother, her grin widening. “Wednesday Addams. I knew you would be the key.”
“And just who are you?” She asked, drawing closer. She just needed to distract the woman long enough for her brother to escape.
She sneered. “My name is Laurel Gates. Your father killed my brother and destroyed my family. And now I'll kill both you and your brother as revenge.”
“You talk too much,” Wednesday said before striking out at the woman.
Laurel dodged, but not quickly enough. The sleeve of her overalls tore, blood spilling down.
“Wednesday!” Pugsley had freed himself and stood in the doorway. “Let's go.”
“No,” she said and pointed. “Nevermore is that way. Go get help.”
“But–”
“Go!”
Pugsley turned and ran away.
“Help won't come in time for you,” Laurel hissed, grasping her wrist. A knife sliced her hand as the woman pulled her off balance.
“Tyler, drag her to the sarcophagus,” Laurel shouted.
Wednesday's eyes darted around the room, but still didn't see the monster.
The body rose to its feet. It was a naked, dirty teenage boy. His curly hair hung limply in his eyes.
He glared down at her as he gripped her coat and pulled her to the sarcophagus.
“Just going to do as she says?” Wednesday taunted. “You're just her lapdog.”
He scowled back at her. “You wouldn't understand, spoiled little outcast.”
She snorted. “No such thing.”
He tugged her arm and pressed it to the seal. Her blood smudged across the ship carved there and seemed to sizzle.
“Finally,” Laurel said behind them. She opened the book and began to read the spell.
Wednesday pulled herself free of the boy's grip and ran. She pulled a blade from her boot and thrust it into the insane woman's chest. Blood spilled over her hand, warm and thick.
Laurel coughed, blood dripping from her mouth. “Resurge, resurge, resurge.”
She fell as smoke erupted from the sarcophagus.
“Tyler,” Laurel rasped, laughing between gasps. “Kill her.”
The boy behind her didn't move, even as electrodes on the top of the jars sparked and electricity jumped from one to another.
She looked back down at Laurel who had stopped laughing. Her head was tilted to the side, eyes staring out and a triumphant grin still stretched across her face. She was dead.
Shadows swirled and dissipated with a resurrected pilgrim in their midst.
“Goody Addams,” he said, raising his staff. The end glowed and she was pulled toward him. “You haunt me still. Now you will go where you belong. The fiery pits of hell.”
He pulled a knife from his belt, but Wednesday’s eyes caught on something behind him.
Tyler stared at them and seemed to grow before her. His eyes grew bloodshot and giant. Needle-like teeth erupted from his gums as his body lengthened.
Crackstone looked behind him and the monster reached out, grabbing him by his cloak before throwing him against the wall.
The monster–Tyler–roared and leapt onto Crackstone. He raised his claws and tore into him. There was a scream and the pilgrim glowed red before combusting.
The explosion threw Tyler across the room and he lay crumpled on the floor, shrinking back to the human boy.
Wednesday slowly approached him. “Why did you do that?”
The boy coughed and opened his eyes. He glared up at her. “When you killed Laurel, you became my master. I couldn't let him kill you.”
“Your master?”
Tyler rose to his hands and knees. “She said I was something called a hyde. She woke me up and became my master.”
“You had to obey her?” She asked.
He nodded. “But I would have if I had a choice,” he growled. “Outcasts are evil.”
Wednesday rolled her eyes. “In case it escaped your notice, you're an outcast, too.”
He sneered back at her. “Yeah, an outcast among outcasts. My kind aren't even supposed to exist or so they teach at that precious school of yours.”
Wednesday stared down at him. Tyler's hands were balled into fists on his knees. He was trembling and covered in dirt and blood.
She shrugged off her coat. It was large on her, but would barely cover him. “Here,” she said. “You can wear this till we get to my car. There should be some clothes stashed in there for my uncle. I think they may fit you.”
He stared at her outstretched hand.
“Unless you want to be naked when the people from Nevermore get here. Or even be here when they get here.”
He slowly took the coat. It barely fit over his shoulders and reached only halfway down his thighs. “This won't make me like you. You may be my master, but I'll fight back anyway I can.”
“I don't want to be anyone's master,” she said. “Though I like your other self better. It's quieter.”
He glared at her as they left the crypt. He pushed her against the wall, a hand pinning her shoulder. He leaned in close to her.
“I'll find a way to kill you,” he growled.
She tilted her face towards his ear. “You can try,” she said and bit his earlobe. Blood burst on her taste buds.
He groaned and pushed her back. His eyes were dark as his lips dropped to hers. Their teeth clashed and they glared into each other's eyes.
Wednesday pulled back, a string of spit connecting their mouths. “You can try.”