Strange
Deranged

˚₊𓆩༺🕷༻𓆪₊˚

𝕃𝕀𝕃𝕀𝕋ℍ looked around her room, her eyes scanning for anything that could help her free herself and reach Morticia. Her gaze fell on the wooden chair she was bound to. She knew fire could weaken the wood and cause it to char, potentially breaking it apart. Determined, she shifted her hips, reaching for her pocket. Her wrists and ankles were the only parts chained, and after a few struggles, she managed to grasp the small vial of oil she always kept for emergencies.

She dropped the vial on the ground, shattering it. A smile formed on her lips as she reached into her other pocket, fingers brushing against a single match. She drew it out and took a deep breath, thinking to herself, "Don't try this at home, kids."

With that, she struck the match and dropped it onto the oil-soaked floor. The flames sprang to life, quickly spreading to the legs of the chair. Even as the heat began to scorch her skin, Lilith rocked the chair side to side. The wood began to crack under the strain. She rocked harder, gritting her teeth against the pain until, finally, the chair toppled over, and the legs splintered.

Seizing the opportunity, Lilith scrambled to her feet, ignoring the burning sensation on her legs. She threw herself backward, smashing the upper part of the chair against the floor. She repeated the motion several times, each impact loosening the wood further until, at last, the chair broke apart, freeing her arms.

Wasting no time, Lilith ran to her bed, grabbed her blanket, and sprinted to the bathroom. She soaked the blanket in the sink, then hurried back to the flames that were now licking the floor much more as it was making its way to the wall. She threw the wet blanket over the fire, smothering it. Smoke billowed up, but the fire began to die down, leaving a smoldering mess.

🥀

Gomez woke up to an urgent knock at the door. "Who is it? We're paid through Thursday," he muttered groggily. The noise roused Wednesday, who grabbed a bat and opened the door cautiously. To his surprise, it was Thing, who dashed inside and leaped onto the table, frantically signing.

Gomez, still half-asleep, tried to follow Thing's rapid gestures. "Morticia. Morticia. Morticia what? Slow down! It's terrible when you stutter," he said, struggling to keep up.

Frustrated, Thing grabbed a pen but found it out of ink. With a huff, he threw it aside and snatched the spoon from Gomez's cereal bowl. Using it, Thing tapped out a message in Morse code on the table: "Morticia in danger. Lilith locked up. Stop. Send help at once. Stop!" The urgency of the message jolted Gomez awake. He sat up straight, alarmed. Meanwhile, Wednesday's aura darkened at the mention of his mother and the woman he adored being in danger. His resolve hardened as he spoke, "Father, I am coming with you."

Gomez turned to his son, concern etched on his face. "Son, it is going to be dangerous."

Wednesday's expression was resolute. "I wasn't asking, Father. Mother and the woman I love are in danger. I can't just sit here and do nothing."

Pride filled Gomez's eyes as he regarded his son. "You really love that woman, do you?"

Wednesday allowed a small smile to grace his lips. "I told you, Father, I'd burn this world down for her." Gomez placed a hand on Wednesday's shoulder, his expression one of approval. "Good man."

🥀

"You can't! Not with red-hot pokers!" Fester exclaimed, his voice filled with desperation as Mrs. Craven heated a poker by the fire. Tully, standing nearby with a look of mild curiosity, asked, "Is this gonna smell?" Morticia, bound tightly in a medieval torture device, glanced at Tully with disdain. "Tully Alford, charlatan, deadbeat, parasite. How Gomez adored you." Tully shrugged, a smirk playing on his lips. "Well, not enough."

Fester moved closer to Morticia, his face etched with concern. "Morticia, please," he pleaded, not wanting to see her hurt.

Morticia met his eyes, her voice steady despite the situation. "And dear Fester, which is the real you? The loathsome, underhanded monster you've become, or the loathsome, underhanded monster we came to love?" Fester's eyes darted away, his expression conflicted. "Don't ask me," he muttered, unable to reconcile the two versions of himself.

"I know what you're feeling, Fester," Morticia spoke softly, her voice a soothing balm to his tormented soul.

Before Fester could respond, Mrs. Craven's harsh voice cut through the air, catching everyone's attention. "Gordon! Gordon, I have a thought. Just a notion, top of my head. Tell me what you think? Since you and Mrs. Addams are so very close, be my guest." She spoke firmly, thrusting the red-hot poker towards him.

Fester hesitated, his hand trembling as he reached for the poker. Before he could grab it, the window shattered behind them. Gomez flipped through the broken glass, landing gracefully with a rapier in hand. Wednesday climbed in after his father, his expression cold and determined.

"Addams!" Mrs. Craven exclaimed, her face twisting with rage.

Gomez's eyes found Morticia, his expression softening instantly. "Cara Mia!" he called, his voice filled with love and relief.

"Mon Cher!" Morticia replied, her eyes shining with adoration as she looked at her beloved husband.

Wednesday nodded to his father and sprinted through the house, intent on finding Lilith. He moved with purpose, his dark eyes scanning the halls. As he approached Lilith's room, a trap wire caught around his ankle, yanking him off his feet. "What the?" he muttered, glancing down at his ankle before being pinned to the ground by another trap.

He looked up to see Lilith standing over him with a piece of wood raised, ready to strike. "Wednesday?" she gasped, lowering her weapon in shock.

He gave her a small, reassuring smile. "Hello, ma rose."

Lilith dropped the wood and fell into his arms, wrapping herself around him in a tight embrace. Wednesday sat up, his arms encircling her as he pulled her close. Their lips met in a passionate kiss, the world around them fading away.

As Wednesday pulled away, he smiled at Lilith with so much love before he caught sight of her burned legs. His expression turned to concern. "Who did this to you?" Lilith looked down at her legs and sighed. "No one. I had to get out of that chair somehow." Wednesday pulled her back into his embrace, removing the trap wire from his ankle. He then picked Lilith up in a bridal style. "Also want to tell me why there is red paint on the floor and my doll's head?" he asked, smirking.

Lilith smiled, a mischievous glint in her eye. "You missed quite a show, my love."

Wednesday kissed her forehead and carried her back to the study. As they entered, they saw Mrs. Craven pointing a gun at Gomez, who was standing by the bookshelf. Fester stood nearby, a look of distress on his face.

"But, Mother, can't we..." Fester began, but he was cut off by Mrs. Craven's sharp voice. "Can it, Gordon. Stop dragging your feet. You disgust me, along with that pest! You're nothing but a useless, sniveling baby. A stone around my neck. What was I thinking? I should have left you where I found you."

Fester turned to face Gomez. "No tricks, Gomez!"

Gomez looked at him, puzzled. Fester walked up to him, continuing, "That's the wrong book."

Gomez removed his hand from a book titled "GREED" and watched as Fester grabbed a different book labeled "HURRICANE IRENE." Gomez whispered, "Good show, old man," smiling and winking at Fester.

Fester turned to face Mrs. Craven, while Lilith smiled at him with pride. Tully, who had been watching nervously, spoke up. "Put that book down, Gordon. You don't know what it can do. It's not just literature."

Fester, with a newfound confidence, responded, "Oh, really?" He opened the book quickly, unleashing a powerful gust of wind that blew the gun out of Mrs. Craven's hand. He then closed the book just as swiftly, stopping the wind. Mrs. Craven looked at Fester with shock and anger, her plans unraveling before her eyes. Tully, realizing the tide had turned, backed away slowly.

Wednesday smiled before Gomez hurried to untie Morticia. "Quickly, darling," she urged him, her eyes filled with both concern and determination.

He nodded and set to work, his hands deftly untying the leather straps around her wrists and ankles. Meanwhile, Tully tried to appeal to Fester, desperation creeping into his voice. "Gordon, I'm your friend. Think of the doubloons."

Fester, still advancing with resolve, responded firmly, "They're not yours, Tully. Back off."

Gomez, focused on freeing Morticia, commented with a hint of passion, "Leather straps. Red-hot pokers."

Morticia smirked, a glint of amusement in her eyes. "Later, my dearest."

As Wednesday held Lilith close, he kissed her gently before carrying her out of the manor for safety. The air outside felt different, a palpable tension easing as they distanced themselves from the chaos within.

Inside, the confrontation reached its climax. With a final, forceful gesture, Tully and Mrs. Craven were flung out of the window. They soared through the air, their screams fading into the night as they descended into open caskets with tombstones bearing their names. The lids closed with a decisive thud, and the coffins sank into the ground, sealing their fate.

Outside, Lilith stood next to Wednesday, who held a shovel alongside his brother. Her eyes wide with astonishment, she asked, "Are they dead?"

Wednesday looked at her, his expression calm and composed. "Does it matter, ma reine?" (my queen)

˚₊𓆩༺🕷༻𓆪₊˚

By: SilverMist707

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