(Wednesday POV)
Tick-tock, tick-tock, I waited for the raven styled clock in my bedroom to strike 9 o'clock. A fortnight ago, Elliott bought tickets for an outing for my parents to an opera show. It was for Morticia's birthday, strategically dated for today, Elliott's birthday. Elliott manipulated them with his 'doggy eyes', I expected more resistance from them. To this day I still underestimate their obsession for each other. Family ties they say, until their love proves otherwise.
On a side note, Elliott is... begging suits him.
*knock*
"Yes father?" I recognized immediately the pattern of his knocking.
"Ah my sweet pale corpse. You look just like your mother in her youth when the moonlight strikes you."
"Was she dead inside as well."
"More like a fire, burning a stake in my heart." He walked inside, closing the door behind him.
He sat down on my bed and whispered, "I'm taking Pugsley with us. I know you got the tickets."
"No, father you got your facts wrong. Elliott bought them."
He smiled, "Elliott loves his literature, the occult kind. But I know he falls asleep when a play comes on the TV."
I wanted to object since Elliott and I watched all the classics already in theaters which bores him when we rewatch them, "it's alright my girl. I know you are a panther waiting to pounce. Ahhhh, you take after your father in that regard, and I approve of your choice of prey."
Before I could reject the notion he got up and left a box on the bed. I wanted to inspect further but the box was sealed and opening it would ruin the wax seal. An E was embroidered on it. I turned to question father however he was long gone and I heard Lurch start the car.
Father your genius often leads you in the wrong direction, tonight we planned a séance. After Elliott begged me to help develop his power over the years, I've come to the end of my string. I can't help him, but an ancestor of his could.
I paced down the corridor to his room. Opening it I found him eating a pastry mother made for his birthday.
"Eating on the bed like a pig Elliott? Where's your class?"
"Morticia came and gave it to me, an apologie of short. I nearly told her what we were doing from the guilt. Amazing cake this is, can't be mad about the results."
"A blood cocoa sponge cake, mother made them for me when I was younger. They contain blood just like in their name." I expected him to vomit or cringe at my revelation.
"Well... Colour me surprised..." he finished eating.
When did he get the stomach for blood? Perhaps I've finally broken him on my path to glory. "Hurry up and get the candles ready. I'll draw the ritual symbols, your too clumsy for it and I won't repeat this again without compensation."
"Always bossy on wednesdays." I heard him whisper. "Where's Thing by the way? Thought he would come with you."
I let the remark slide, its his birthday afterall, "likewise. Knowing him, he dipped out. Won't give us a hand, or he thinks he is." Is he in on it with father?
After a couple of minutes passed by we finished preparing the séance. "So do we stand or sit around it? Will someone appear in the middle?"
"Just sit in the middle with me, we aren't conjuring a demon."
We sat and he held my gaze waiting for an instruction. He smiled nodding for me to go on but I can see the desperation behind his eyes. Six years he's been with us and not an ounce of magic did he manage to create with his mother's book. I've seen him study it endlessly trying to figure out if he missed a part, from mixing with his right hand to changing it to his left. Madness or insanity. We're not alike, I wish to follow my own path and not my mother's. He clings to a keepsake that wasn't given as a legacy but out of love. He's a nail who wishes to be nailed to a wall while I'm a hammer willing to smash it to smithereens.
"Uh Wednesday? This isn't working." He says humorously, it doesn't hide the anxiety in his tone.
This isn't a required step but I rather have him believe it'll work, it might increase the chances. "Place your hands on the palm of my own."
He does so carefully and watches me closely gauging my reactions like I might puke from the touch. "I don't think you smell like a pig as well. Just put them on top."
"I don't think I smell." He blurted out. "More like I think you have a taser under them."
I closed my eyes, breathe in Wednesday, patience for the small minded isn't my forte. Our hands touched, "now call for someone of your bloodline to help. This is a chance for connection. Today is the day you were born and thus the closest day to your ancestors. Sense a bond-"
My neck swayed to my back and my eyes envisioned a sight before me. Glimpses of trees passed through me and I heard screaming. I wasn't in control my legs but a passenger. They bolted to the direction of the screams and my heart rate sky rocketed as if a heart attack hit me.
Then the vision changed and I was in a stone room lit by candles. I turned around and saw someone's back, I recognized it but couldn't place who's. My hand touched their shoulder and they collapsed in my arms.
It was Elliott staring up at me, with bags under his eyes from sleepless nights. I wanted to scold him when I felt a wetness from his torso. My eyesight turned to see a knife embedded in his stomach.
I hurried to mend his wound with whatever shirt I had when my vision rewinded. While my vision went backwards through the trees a voice echoed in my ears, "just like he said. You'd bring ruin to everyone Wednesday Addams and it started with the boy who would do anything for the ungrateful witch."
My eyes blinked and I was back in Elliott's room, "hey you alright? You fell into some kind of seizure. I was about to call Gomez when you came to."
I stood upright and found myself on his bed. I glossed him over. For once seeing him dead in my head didn't sit well with me.
He helped me up from the bed thinking me too fragile to overcome a simple faint, "clean up everything in my stead."
"Wait! Did it work at least?"
A part of me wanted to tell him, but the voice knew him well. I trained him like a dog these years, he'd do anything to help me. Putting him in danger was for me to decide, I rather it be me to go down than another, "it failed."
In an instant the hope in his eyes died. "Before I forget, a token for your service these years Elliott." I handed him the present, it was simply to lift his move. Nothing else.
He opened it begrudgingly, and smiled when he saw it, "a talisman. Mother used to make them."
Elliott moved infront of me and I failed to react. He hugged me tight, "thanks for trying Wednesday, sorry it put you in harm's way."
I could smell the burning carbon of the cauldron, mixed with the cologne father gifted him to match his peculiar sent. My hands slightly raised just enough to touch his sides.
When he let go, I excused myself immediately and left before he could put in a word. I locked my door and took in a moment to compose myself. Then my eyes darted to Thing sitting on the railing of my bed frame. He was twirling his fingers with a smugness on his thumb.
"No, there was nothing but an exchange of services. We're nothing more than a platonic master and servant relationship"
He hand signaled ,"no Thing, now is not the time to discuss the aftermath of a séance. What I need is books. Gather all the literature on forestry, I need to find a location."