Chapter Text
"And now...farewell to kindness, humanity and gratitude. I have substituted myself for Providence in rewarding the good; may the God of vengeance now yield me His place to punish the wicked."
Alexandre Dumas.
How curious is the nature of the mind, as well as the ramifications of emotion. Now, upon waking up on that tediously sunny morning, Wednesday Addams could never have imagined being so far from home. Yet here she was, in the ill-fated land of California, more specifically somewhere in Marin County, surrounded by a dark redwood forest. Even so, the location was still the least surprising thing about her current situation. A frightening bus stop in the middle of a dirt road was the present setting.
No, not even Enid Sinclair, unconscious and prostrate in her lap, brought her such surprise, though perhaps in other times it would have. Wednesday ran her strangely trembling fingers through her blonde hair dyed with rainbow tips, in a strange but not frightening shock. The silence in the forest was gradually filled with nightlife, unlike when she woke up from her trance.
A strange one, by the way, never before experienced by her, or was it some kind of programmed absence from her brain? She felt alien to her own body and now noticed not only the black claws that seemed to reflect on her even paler fingertips, but also the mark of strange runes along her outstretched arm. Beyond that, there was a presence weighing on her shoulders that did not belong to her unconscious wolf, much less to herself, or rather, not only to herself. It was as if there was a presence behind her neck, a heavy gaze coming from within her, but one that could not be accessed at that moment.
Enid whimpered softly, and for a few moments, Wednesday put aside her own mental confusion to give her more attention. She caressed her face and whispered sweet words that she knew would please her mate. Nothing, no sign that she had heard, and that worried her greatly. She looked, for the thousandth time since she had found herself in that dark forest, at her wrists and throat, raw and bleeding. Fury threatened to overwhelm her fatigue, although Wednesday needed to focus her mind.
A week was the time Enid had asked for to talk to her parents about their newly discovered connection. What a bitter reality, to discover such a thing a month before finishing their last year at Nevermore. So Enid had to go back to San Francisco and she to New Jersey. “At least until we understand all this better and talk to our families,” had been the argument, plausible at the time, used successfully to get the Addams girl to go home without her very reason for breathing.
What a naive idea that was, how stupid she was to believe it would work. Her chest already ached as they turned the corner out of Jericho, so she knew that the next few days would be nothing more than the worst kind of agony. Not even the damn cell phone Enid had made her buy was useful, since the other girl had stopped responding to her completely on the third day of torture.
Blood that wasn’t hers glistened down her torn clothes, and Wednesday tried to recall from her faint memory what had happened a few minutes ago. Exactly what level of confrontation had left her body so alert? Not even the slight tiredness she felt, which didn’t even come close to her mental disorientation, was enough of a clue. Considering that she had left home less than twenty-four hours ago with the sole intention of killing and dying for Enid.
A shadow fell across her face with a flash of fresh, clear memory, when she was still herself. Enid crying, cornered in a dark, cold attic. A shock ran down her spine in the purest, most disordered rage. She saw Enid once again, no longer smiling, no longer with sparkling eyes. Enid in a corner, crying in pain, thick chains of pure silver preventing her from even opening her eyes.
A roar made her whole body tremble, the presence threatening to emerge once again. She tries to control herself, probably the hardest thing she has ever done in her entire life. Lurch was late, she wasn’t sure if he had understood the location she had practically whispered in her broken and shamefully faltering voice after waking up in that place with her love in her arms.
She checked again and the wolf’s temperature was too high even for her species. Wednesday tried to think more clearly, but once again everything was mixed up in her mind. Voices and screams, animalistic howls and gunshots rang in her ears like recent ghosts. She looked up at the waning moon and its silvery glow provided at least some of the answers.
There were no transformed wolves on the pack’s territory, of that she was sure.
She needed to stay in the here and now, but it was an almost impossible task.
Her brain, which had never failed her before, seemed to be taking an extended vacation, and she could barely string together one or two coherent thoughts. Greater than that was only the revolt that lodged in her throat and the anger that burned with concern for the fate of Enid, her mate, sweating coldly and calling softly for her name while her blood, in turn, was certainly facing a violent silver poisoning.
It was all a jumble of feelings, fears, and needs, all grouped together at once inside her, already so accustomed to placidity. And look where the two of them had ended up because she let herself be carried away by Enid’s simple, hopeful heart! One failed breath from the woman in her lap was all it would take for her to turn around and end whatever she had started. A bittersweet taste lingered in her chest alongside her inexorable devotion to Enid: an unspeakable and infinite desire for retribution, a thirst for revenge that she knew would never truly be quenched.
What they had done to her, what they had tried to do to their bond, would not go unpunished. Wednesday tried to associate the importance of the present with Enid’s safety and recovery, but the pain she felt seemed like a third presence beside them, doing them the honors, and she, who would never stop feeding something like that, even if it was against herself, did so because she knew that it would result in even more, multiplied agony for each and every one who crossed their path.
When Lurch finally arrived, Wednesday didn’t hesitate to carry her into the family’s hearse. Nor did the driver need to hear a word from her when he saw the state of her beloved and herself. The car sped away at a speed that was humanly unbelievable, and Wednesday knew they would arrive as quickly as possible.
“It’s close now, mi amor. Please.”, she whispered in a pleaded pray close to Enid’s exposed ear as they sped through the urban area of the city. For just a moment, before Lurch made another dangerous left turn, her eyes found themselves in the rearview mirror.
And then she recognized herself, but at the same time she didn’t. The slight shock of her sclerae completely overtaken by the deepest darkness barely touched her, such was her despair and hatred.
She didn’t know exactly what she had left behind in that land of werewolves, but Wednesday was absolutely certain that whatever it was would be nothing compared to what she would do if Enid didn’t wake up.