[Wednesday POV]
The chalk lines were almost perfect. Almost.
I erased a small imperfection with the edge of my boot before continuing the last sigil. A ritual circle should never be anything less than flawless — even if the intended victim deserved the worst possible outcome.
As for who it is, or why?
Purely educational.
And certainly not related to Perseus.
Well… not directly. But he gave me reason enough.
[Flashback]
Perseus was on the phone with Mother, discussing matters far above his comprehension. I sat in the background, sharpening my knives. It amused me how seriously he treated these "briefings," as if a future with the Addams family were an open invitation rather than a death sentence.
When Mother stepped away, he thought himself clever enough to seize the moment.
"Darkling, I know you're listening. Why make your brother call me instead of doing it yourself?"
I said nothing. The steel sang across the whetstone. Silence is sharper than any blade.
Then he made his mistake.
"Anyway, I found our puppy! Let me send you a photo—there, see? Her name's Enid. She's a werewolf, so she fits our deal perfectly. Which means I didn't break…"
The photograph flickered onto the screen: a blonde girl, claws, ears, a tail. A werewolf. A technicality.
A loophole.
My grip tightened on the blade. I threw it. The phone shattered into silence.
"So… you choose death," I whispered.
Your genius mind gave you wax wings, Perseus, but you flew too close to the sun. Now you will fall.
I walked out of the room and met Mother, who was just returning for the call. Her gaze fell on the broken phone, then on me. She understood immediately.
"It's useless to go after him," she said evenly. "You can't win."
"Because he has a gift and I don't?" I asked. "Still, find a method to kill him."
Mother sighed. "It isn't the gift itself, querida. Many are born with great gifts but waste it. The danger lies in how far he has already developed his potential. His mind… his genius… he could one day be considered the most powerful Outcast in history."
Her words were not comfort. They were gasoline poured over embers.
Then her tone softened, dangerous in its calm.
"But there is a solution. Once, long ago, your father sought to prove his devotion to me. He scoured Europe for a ritual used in the Middle Ages by a queen. She performed it to test whether her spouse's love was true. If they failed…" A faint smile touched her lips. "…they died. Instantly."
I studied her. "How can I modify the ritual so that failure does not mean instant death… but a slow, agonizing one?"
Mother's smile widened. "Perfection, querida. You make my black heart swell with pride"
[Flashback Ends]
A car halting outside broke my train of thought. Moments later, an annoyingly cheerful voice floated up from the front door, greeting everyone in the most gratingly friendly tone imaginable.
I didn't bother moving.
The upstairs door creaked open.
"Go in the circle."
"Hello to you as well, Darkling," Perseus said, strolling in as if he owned the place. "Kind of sad you didn't leave any welcoming gifts in the car."
"Why waste effort when you already expect it?" I replied flatly.
He pressed a book into my hand, like an offering already doomed to be refused.
"It's going to take more than a book to save you," I said, not even glancing at it.
Then I looked.
The leather cover, the faded sigils — the unmistakable grimoire of…
I went silent for a moment before finally speaking. "Go stand in the middle of the circle."
He tilted his head with a sigh, curiosity glinting in his eyes. "And what, exactly, does this ritual do?"
My grip tightened on my rapier, which had been ready in my hand the entire time. I was prepared for protests, bargaining, excuses — and the inevitable duel to the death.
Instead, he smiled softly and stepped into the circle without hesitation.
The runes flickered. Nothing happened.
"Perhaps you made a mistake somewhere in the chalk line," he said mildly.
I was about to reply, but the circle answered for me the instant my foot crossed its boundary.
And then… darkness.
When I opened my eyes, I found myself standing in a world drained of color. Snow drifted silently through skeletal trees.
At my feet lay a small bundle in the snow — a baby, swaddled in thin cloth, skin pale, breath shallow. Dying.
I crouched closer, and the first thing I saw were the eyes… eyes I would recognize in death as easily as in life.
Time itself seemed to hold its breath, as though the forest were waiting for judgment to fall.
From the mist, an elderly woman emerged. Without hesitation, she lifted the child with practiced care.
Then her form began to glow — a soft, eerie green.
The vision fractured. The trees bent and dissolved, snow hardening into wooden floors until the forest melted away completely. When the world stilled, I was standing in a dim bedroom.
The child, the same one I had just seen abandoned in the snow, but older, sat at a desk, furiously drawing in a book, oblivious to my presence.
The elderly woman appeared again, her green aura darker now, more oppressive.
The world twisted again, the bedroom's walls folding in on themselves until they reshaped into familiar pillars and doors. I stood at the entrance of my family home.
My parents waited there with the same elderly woman.
And beside them, my younger self stared at the boy who calmly closed the book as if nothing had happened.
But that wasn't what caught my attention.
The moment my younger self's eyes met his, a light crimson glow flared around me.
The world began to fracture and reel, scenes shattering one into another.
I saw myself and the boy growing older together, the crimson deepening, darkening.
One moment, I was in his arms, willingly kissing him amidst ruins of stone and dust.
Another, we were dancing in an abandoned crypt beneath the moonlight.
The visions blurred into a flood, each more intimate, more undeniable, until the weight of them crushed down.
And then—stillness.
I stood in a room no longer black-and-white, but alive with potions, tools, and jars of nameless substances stacked beside towering piles of books.
Across the chamber stood myself — older, sharper. She was mid-conversation with a girl and a boy who looked unsettlingly familiar, echoes of myself and Perseus.
Older-me ended the lesson abruptly and dismissed them.
The moment the door closed, she turned and fixed her gaze at me.
"Hello, younger self," she said. Her voice was calm, her eyes scalpel-sharp.
The words were not a greeting. They were a diagnosis.
"I know why you're here," she continued. "You want answers. But you already had them the moment he handed you that book."
She drew breath to continue — but I cut her off, narrowing my eyes.
"Because only someone obsessed could know I awakened my gift a month ago — a truth I shared with no one."
A faint smile curved her lips. "And only a genius would follow a trail of forgotten history and fractured clues, uncover the true spirit ancestor guiding you, and retrieve its long-lost grimoire… only to present it as a gift."
Silence stretched between us, sharp and brittle.
Finally, I asked. "Why am I here?"
Her smile turned cold. "Poor child. You stepped willingly into the ritual, and because your love faltered, it answered. Now you are dying.
These visions you've endured — and even this conversation? A sadistic flourish from the ritual's inventor. She created it so that whoever steps inside will have their love tested. If they pass, little happens. But if they fail? They are forced to witness their counterpart's past and future— everything they could have shared… before they die."
A thrill of dark admiration twisted through me. "To let them glimpse what might have been, only to strip it away… exquisite cruelty."
"Thank you," she said simply.
Then she tilted her head, her smile deepening.
"But I wonder what fate awaits the one left behind. I've seen his devotion to you. How will he live, knowing you never truly reciprocated his love?"
She leaned closer, her voice soft as a whisper but sharp as a knife.
"So tell me, Wednesday Addams… do you feel despair?"
************
Author Note:
Nothing much to say, thank you for reading this fanfiction and for the Powerstones. :)
Also, through Cozbrough's pictures in the comment section, I decided to include in the auxiliary chapter under Harem a section where people can share pictures or artwork of the Addams world. Only drawings and artwork are allowed, and for the first time in the entire fanfiction, if someone posts something different, I will delete it. (Ever noticed I never delete comments, even if they're questionable or negative? Just vibing here, so everyone can do whatever they want.)
Enjoy the bonus chapter!