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nnightskiess · 10 months

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the dance of death, part three

₊° - 𝐰𝐞𝐝𝐧𝐞𝐬𝐝𝐚𝐲 𝐚𝐝𝐝𝐚𝐦𝐬 𝐱 𝐟𝐞𝐦𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: 𝘢𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘮𝘦𝘮𝘣𝘦𝘳𝘴 𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘯𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵𝘴𝘩𝘢𝘥𝘦 𝘴𝘰𝘤𝘪𝘦𝘵𝘺 𝘵𝘳𝘺 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘪𝘳 𝘣𝘦𝘴𝘵 𝘵𝘰 𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘦𝘳 𝘸𝘦𝘥𝘯𝘦𝘴𝘥𝘢𝘺 𝘢𝘸𝘢𝘺 𝘧𝘳𝘰𝘮 𝘥𝘪𝘨𝘨𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘶𝘱 𝘱𝘳𝘰𝘣𝘭𝘦𝘮𝘴, 𝘸𝘦𝘥𝘯𝘦𝘴𝘥𝘢𝘺𝘴 𝘯𝘦𝘦𝘥 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘢𝘯𝘴𝘸𝘦𝘳𝘴 𝘰𝘯𝘭𝘺 𝘨𝘳𝘰𝘸𝘴. 𝘢 𝘯𝘦𝘸 𝘮𝘺𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘺 𝘯𝘦𝘦𝘥𝘴 𝘵𝘰 𝘣𝘦 𝘴𝘰𝘭𝘷𝘦𝘥, 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘴𝘩𝘦 𝘸𝘪𝘭𝘭 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘣𝘢𝘤𝘬 𝘥𝘰𝘸𝘯 𝘶𝘯𝘵𝘪𝘭 𝘴𝘩𝘦 𝘩𝘰𝘭𝘥𝘴 𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘢𝘯𝘴𝘸𝘦𝘳𝘴.

the dance of death, masterlist

☾ ⋆*·:⋆*·:⠀ *⋆.*:·ﾟ .: ⋆*·ﾟ: .⋆

𝗽𝗹𝗲𝗮𝘀𝗲 𝗱𝗼 𝗻𝗼𝘁 𝗰𝗼𝗽𝘆, 𝗿𝗲𝗽𝘂𝗯𝗹𝗶𝘀𝗵, 𝘁𝗿𝗮𝗻𝘀𝗹𝗮𝘁𝗲, 𝗿𝗲𝗽𝗿𝗼𝗱𝘂𝗰𝗲 𝗼𝗿 𝘂𝘀𝗲 𝘁𝗵𝗶𝘀 𝗶𝗺𝗮𝗴𝗶𝗻𝗲 𝗼𝗻 𝘄𝗮𝘁𝘁𝗽𝗮𝗱 𝗼𝗿 𝗼𝗻 𝗼𝘁𝗵𝗲𝗿 𝗽𝗹𝗮𝘁𝗳𝗼𝗿𝗺𝘀. 𝗿𝗲𝘀𝗽𝗲𝗰𝘁 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗮𝘂𝘁𝗵𝗼𝗿’𝘀 𝘄𝗼𝗿𝗸

𝐄𝐧𝐢𝐝 𝐫𝐮𝐬𝐡𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡 𝐍𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐞'𝐬... maze of hallways, trying to find the vampire where she knew she could usually be found. Perhaps the more rational part of her brain had tried to convince her to let it go, but the part that was currently jumping in enthusiasm from the prospects of solving a mysterious tale and by doing so, helping out her stoic dormie, was too loud to be overthrown.

"Yoko!"

The vampire turned around upon hearing her name being called out, saw Enid skidding up to her with an untamed enthusiasm, and stopped,

"Yoko, tell me everything there is to know about a violin player at school."

The ageless girl shrunk visibly at Enid's cotton-candy mood that made her head hurt and she rolled her eyes, glancing backwards to try and see if there was a way out of this one, "Not you too, Enid." She sighed once she realised there wasn't, and she did not have it in her to harshly turn Enid away from it as she had done with Wednesday. It was like stepping on a puppy dog's tail, "It's best to forget about it. Trust me."

Enid's smile disappeared, "Why?"

"It'll save you trouble."

"What kind of trouble?" Enid was beyond confused at her friend's behaviour. Sure, Yoko was a little more closed off than others- though never as much as Wednesday- that had always been the case, but she was being weird about this. Too weird.

"Are you asking for yourself or your dormie?" Yoko pursed her lips and squinted at her, knowing Enid had a habit of wanting to help out others, and if that was the case, she needed to steer Enid another way. She'd tried to do the same with the new Addams girl, and though she could care less if something happened to her, she cared about Enid's well-being. Still, not only Enid's well-being was put on the line with this one. Nevermore could be in trouble if the contrasting duo unearthed this secret.

Still as confused as ever, Enid tilted her head to the side like a young lost pup, "Would it matter?"

"It would. Have you heard the violin or was it Wednesday who heard it?" Yoko shifted her weight as her eyes travelled around the hall to observe their surroundings. If any other person were to hear of this, she would unleash a certain kind of trouble that she was sure Nevermore didn't need on top of all the disappearances and the murders. With a derogative glare, she stared at the perky girl in front of her, trying to get an answer out of her this way. She didn't want to hurt Enid's feelings, but a little intimidation was good if it could save the girl in the end.

"I um, I have, I think..., I mean, it was late, so I was inside and well-" Enid bluffed, "-but what's this-"

Yoko cut her off and caught on to her lie straight away, seeing as Enid refused to make eye contact that lasted longer than a second. Enid was too pure to be able to lie without shame or get away with it. "So, you haven't. Keep it that way, Enid. Trust me. Whatever Wednesday is digging up, you have to bury it."

"But what could be so horrible about a violin player?" Enid's lip curled into a pout, realising she had reached a dead end. The cogs in her brain were already working to come up with a new solution to get her answers. Because even if this had started as a task to help out her new roommate, Enid couldn't deny and say she hadn't grown curious over time as well. If no one knew a violin player and Yoko, who had been at Nevermore the longest and always seemed to know everything about its mysteries, was reluctant to give her answers, then there was more to the story.

"Look, I know you're too keen on finding it out to let this go, so just ask Xavier. But keep me out of it. And after you've got your answers, you need to forget about her, okay? Not everything at Nevermore needs to see the light."

"Her? Who, Wednesday? Wait, you mean- It's a girl?!" Enid perked up, sensing this was a victory of some sort. A small one, but a victory nonetheless.

Yoko had already turned on her heel and quickly rushed out of the hallway, back into the shadows, debating if this encounter was something she should tell Weems or keep to herself. Either way, it wouldn't hurt to keep an extra eye out for whatever the two roomies were cooking up.

Enid sucked in a sharp breath of surprise as something clawed at her legs, but as she looked down and saw Thing, she relaxed and picked him up.

"Did you hear all that, Thing?" She let him crawl onto her shoulder and watched him sign, "Off to Xavier we go then, but you have to stay hidden, I'm not sure he'll be as open if he knows Wednesday is up to something."

☾ ⋆*·:⋆*·:⠀ *⋆.*:·ﾟ .: ⋆*·ﾟ: .⋆

Seeing as it was the early afternoon, it wasn't hard to know where to find the boy; he stood collecting his arrows from the target with a pensive look on his face, as if he was solving the greatest riddle inside his mind. He seemed deep in thought, troubled even. Enid couldn't quite tell if the change of his expression when he saw her stemmed from relief or annoyance. Nonetheless, she hurried as Thing quickly hid in her backpack. He zipped it shut as best as he could right as Enid halted in front of the boy,

"Xavier! Tell me everything you know about a girl at school who plays the violin- go!"

He pulled out the last arrow with a huff before turning to her with furrowed brows. He wasn't sure what he had expected once he saw the bubbly girl approach him, but this surely hadn't been it. His confusion quickly turned to unease as he realised what this meant; someone had heard her again at Nevermore. There was no other explanation to it, seeing as each principal Nevermore Academy had ever had since it had happened, had forfeited any string instrument from the school grounds. He still didn't understand why Weems had let Wednesday allow the girl to bring and play her cello at the Academy, but it seemed that the consequences of that had now been brought to stand in front of him.

"It's fine, Yoko told me to ask you, and I promise to keep my nose out of it afterwards."

He gave her a calculated look, doubting the truth behind that statement, "How do you know about this in the first place?" He walked back after collecting all the arrows, hoping it would make Enid drop the subject, but deep down knowing the girl would follow him around until he had given her something useful.

"Nothing goes passed me at this school." She beamed with pride, but Xavier wasn't impressed with the answer, and she could tell. "Fine, a secret for a secret then?"

Xavier locked his jaw, thinking long and hard about this. He wasn't sure if he should trust one of the school's biggest gossips; no matter how pure-hearted Enid was, she was known to blab if she was enthusiastic. Still, he realised, the girl wasn't part of the Nightshades, so how the hell did she know?

"Hm, right. But you have to let it go afterwards." He pulled her to the side, away from the prying ears of studying kids. "During some nights, after the clock strikes a certain hour, a violin can be heard. But not everywhere, only at certain points in the school. As if it travels... it never lingers or sounds from just one place. It's been said that as soon as you hear it, you're done for. You then begin to hear it everywhere, see and hear her even in your dreams until she'll make you grow insane and then kill you out of mercy. It dates back to the 1800s or something, I don't even know. It's a ghost story to make us kids stick to the curfew," He bluffed and stared at her with a look of finality, hoping the girl would accept his story.

Enid made a face, "That's underwhelming. Who'd be scared of a girl playing the violin? And if it's just a ghost story, then why is everyone telling me to-"

"Let it go now," He finished her sentence, "-like you promised, yes?" He glared at her and gave her a curt nod as she mumbled out an agreement, but both Yoko's and Xavier's behaviour had only heightened her intrigue.

Xavier wasn't done with her yet, "A secret for a secret you said, so where did you hear this all?"

Enid blew her cheeks like a puffer fish before opening it to stammer out a few words. She hadn't really thought of what fake secret she would try and present to him.

The boy took her silence as a sign that whatever would leave her mouth next, wouldn't be the truth, "Let me guess, Wednesday?" Xavier sighed and rolled his eyes. Of course that damned Addams girl would dig her nose into Nevermore's secrets and bring terror upon them all. Maybe it hadn't been such a coincidence that all the disappearances and murders had happened the moment Wednesday Addams had enrolled.

"No!" Enid gasped, "Who told you that?"

"You, just now, with the guilty look on your face." He shook his head, "Listen, just drop it. And it would do you good to tell Wednesday to do the same, this school already has enough on its plate as it is." He walked off with his arrows in his hand and Enid heard her backpack zip back open.

"Oh, I know, Thing...but if we don't tell her and she goes to investigate herself, we might get her into even more trouble. Right... I forgot about that-" She looked around, not caring if people thought she was mad for talking to a severed hand, "But I'm sure she'd appreciate us having snooped either way, even if she told us not to. Right?" She chuckled uneasily, trying to convince herself of her words, but rushed back to Ophelia Hall nonetheless.

☾ ⋆*·:⋆*·:⠀ *⋆.*:·ﾟ .: ⋆*·ﾟ: .⋆

The annoying clattering of a typewriter filled their dorm in Ophelia Hall's attic as Enid rushed through the door. Wednesday stopped momentarily at the harsh interruption, barely shifted her head to the right and glanced at her through her peripheral before deeming Enid's enthusiasm as casual and going back to her writing. But though Enid was indeed a cheerful girl most of the time, her enthusiasm wasn't casual.

"Wednesday!" She shrieked, making the girl stop her writing once more, "You've got to listen to what we found out."

Wednesday turned in her chair and slightly lifted up her chin, signalling Enid to continue.

"Before you get mad- I just couldn't help myself and I stumbled upon-"

"You went and talked to Yoko." Wednesday deadpanned.

Enid's expression flashed with surprise "How do you-"

Wednesday pushed herself out of her seat, "If you're to help me, you really ought to be more discreet. And you-" She turned to Thing who rested against Enid's shoulder, "-should be on my side. Or have you forgotten the promise I made you if you were to betray me again?"

Thing cowered behind Enid's blonde locks, who immediately came to both their defences, "But we did it to help you." She shrugged innocently, finding comfort in fiddling with her fingers as Wednesday's hard glare grew a little uncomfortable.

Wednesday crossed her arms and tilted her head, giving the two a long and silent once-over, "Well?"

Enid let out a breath, having thought this moment would have gone way worse than for Wednesday to just brush it off. But Wednesday was too curious to find out what they had to say to think of creating vendettas.

"Your violin player; she's a girl."

Wednesday tilted her head to the other side but waited patiently for more to come. She let the answer sink in though, and she hated with all her might how she felt herself growing even more intrigued purely based on that small detail.

"But...everyone seems to be a little weird about her?" Enid frowned, just as Wednesday did once she noticed the slip-up of Enid's words.

"Everyone? Who else have you talked to?"

Enid widened her eyes and straightened her posture. She took in a sharp breath and focused on the floorboards, "Um-"

"Enid." Wednesday's tone of voice as she spoke her name was enough of a warning to make Enid confess.

"Well, Yoko you know..." She swallowed, "-but maybe also with Ajax earlier..." She carefully watched Wednesday's expression, then deemed it safe enough to add the person she had last spoken to, "-and maybe there's a small chance I might've talked to Xavier, too."

Wednesday's nostrils flared in annoyance and frustration, for now, half of the members of the Nightshades were aware of her sticking her nose in Nevermore's business. Still, asking around about a violin player should be deemed as an innocent thing, as her just wanting to know who also harboured a great talent for playing a string instrument. There should be nothing dangerous about that. So why had the look in Yoko's eyes given her the idea that the answer to her blameless question would bring death and destruction upon them all?

"Do they know why you asked?"

"Um, no... not specifically..." Enid mumbled out quietly, but upon seeing Wednesday's brows furrowing even more, she broke, "They figured it out... look- I'm sorry, okay! But it didn't sound to me like you should continue your search, so maybe it's best if you stop now." Enid walked over to her with a bright and supportive grin and brought up her hands to gently hold onto the girl's arms. She refrained from doing so when she saw Wednesday look at them with a death stare and slowly pulled them back to her sides.

Wednesday took a step back, not liking how Enid's overly sweet perfume mixed with her body lotion wafted into her nose. It was already torture enough to have to smell it from afar from her side of the room, "What are you implying?" She continued, Enid's last words not having left her yet.

"I just... they seemed scared and worried when I asked. I don't know... gut feeling... or maybe that's just my suppressed wolf making me feel weird. It was a full moon last night, after all." Enid quickly rubbed at her temple, not wanting to seem silly for thinking the way she had.

"Interesting."

If the members of the Nightshades, who held most information about the school's history and secrets, had grown uneasy upon being asked about her mysterious violinist, then she definitely wasn't going to back down now. Wednesday thrived off fear and would go look for it where it could be found in overflow. And so, instead of Enid's warning having the proper effect to scare her off, it drew her closer to wanting to find out all about the violin player, to find out all about her. She'd thought Yoko's initial comment about a horror story had just been a way to tantalise her, but maybe there was more truth to it than she had thought at first. It seemed as if Wednesday was going to have to pay a little visit to the underground Nightshades Library soon.

☾ ⋆*·:⋆*·:⠀ *⋆.*:·ﾟ .: ⋆*·ﾟ: .⋆

@ghostheartbeat @the-night-owl-blr @engenelxver @screechcat @mary-jinx @mxal24 @novastargalaxydesigns @randomawesomeperson102 @reginassweetheart @mjoiner1136 @rockwyn @lostgirl1415 @rainbow-love4ever @the-lazy-turtle @elduster @queen-bunny @ghostheartbeat

#dance of death #wednesday x reader #wednesday addams x reader #wednesday addams imagine #wednesday fanfic #wednesday addams imagines #the dance of death

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weirdlookindog · 17 days

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Charles Baudelaire - The Dance of Death ~ The Flowers of Evil

#charles baudelaire #the dance of death #the flowers of evil #les fleurs du mal #poem

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inuhalfdemon · 9 days

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Dirty Dealings (20/21)

Word Count = 3,621 Words

Rating = Mature (SMUT + Violence)

Chapter 20: The Interim

“Ah…” She had teased him. “Can’t ruin that fragile reputation of yours. Don’t want the other evil and all-powerful Overlords of Hell thinking I’ve turned you into a has been….” - Adeline

35 days…that’s all that she had left

Adeline laid in bed; naked – wrapped in sheets and with Alastor’s arm lying draped across her stomach. She was awake, starring up at the ceiling and he was sleeping soundly beside her; stretched out on his belly; his head turned toward her – his face pressed against her ribcage. Without even realizing she was doing it; she stroked the base of his antlers; her fingers tracing up the small nubs of bone that were there and touching the sharp little points. He shifted and groaned in his sleep; pressing himself closer to her.

After their terms were made; he had politely offered her as much…privacy…as she desired. He was used to giving clients their….freedoms; the time they were left allotted should be spent in whatever ways they chose or wanted without his ever-looming presence casted over them. Adeline did not want that; his absence. If anything; she wanted his company…wanted him to stay with her…until the end. She couldn’t explain it to him, couldn’t understand it herself. She should hate him; now, more than ever. She should want nothing more to do with him until that last and final moment…but, she didn’t.

She was tired - if that was the right word for it. She had lived for 102 years…70 of which she led without fear of dying; of becoming ill or severely injured. A lifetime of fighting to find herself; to find a way to survive and belong to a world that was made to forget her. Really; he had gave her everything she had asked of him – more even. A life of fulfillment. He certainly hadn’t made things easy for her…but she lived it just the same.

She knew also, that she should be scared. A small part of her was…but, she more felt a calm acceptance. They both knew where this deal they had made meant; and she certainly had not forgotten. Perhaps, human souls simply were never meant to live so long and hers craved for its final release.

In the end; Alastor would be the only one to remember her; the only one who had truly known her. She had no comprehension as to how long his memory could trail back or to how long he could possibly end up wandering his realms before he found his final rest – if there even was one waiting for him; but she felt that it was far longer than any natural person could ever hope to be remembered. He would carry his memory of her with him and she would never be completely forgotten…another ironic twist to this elaborate fate they had made for themselves.

Sighing, Adeline released her thoughts – feeling the beginnings of the promise of sleep. Twisting and moving herself so that she was curled tightly into Alastor’s arms; she let this darkness take her.

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Alastor couldn’t help but feel…fortuitous.

The few days he was apart from Adeline turned out to be highly productive for him. He tightened up all his loose ends that were required and in tracking down one of his most reliable of sources; here, on earth…he found not only more of the information pertaining to the Morningstars he was seeking; but was offered to make a deal that he was finding rather hard to refuse… He had been given time to weigh his options - consider the terms; offer a rebuttal or suggest adjustments to the agreement as needed – within reason - but, really… could he say ‘no’ to such a…rewarding…opportunity?

The most problematic element Alastor had in considering this new deal was in fact, his current on-going deal with Adeline. He had 30 years left on earth to address the matter of wrapping things up before the reaping ended but his new client required that he return to Hell much sooner than that. So when he found Adeline willing to agree to finally relinquish her soul to him; at the cost of one pitifully pathetic soul…he readily accepted.

Not that he truly believed she would follow-thru with her proposed terms. Really; the boy’s soul was as worthless as any soul could be. It held absolutely no potential; the young man actively was trying to end his own life the very night Alastor had found him; retching and dying in a dirty street gutter. Still, as Alastor had told Adeline, any soul was worth more to him than having nothing…so he cleaned the kid up; made him a deal and sent the young man off on his merry way like an animal being fattened for the slaughter. Surely; Adeline would see sense or get cold-feet with this new agreement of hers at some point. As it were; Alastor kept Henry’s soul in his possession – the agreement being that he release it on June 25th, 2020 – the day Adeline planned to give him her soul – willingly. The idea of it made him snort a laugh through his nose.

Still; if Adeline was considering this deal for Henry now – it left a door open to future possibilities. This new deal from this new client made to him did not require his involvement for another few years…he had time to work something out and regain his shadow but it would require the utmost…diligence. Now that he had nothing left in the remaining contracts he had left to close…his attention was fully on ending this deal he had made with Adeline.

Days passed and Alastor kept a close eye on Adeline’s moods by their connection. She was both relatively calm and relaxed; confirming it for him. No one faced destruction with such acceptance. He had anticipated their bed growing cold again; feeling her detach herself away from him out of resentment for this messy predicament he had placed her in. He was surprised to find that it was just the opposite; that she desired and wanted him more now ; both sexually and companionably. He couldn’t find the sense in it but neither could he find any complaints. Adeline and he had grown to know each other, and spending time with her; be it in bed or otherwise, was thoroughly enjoyable for him now.

One evening, of the first week of June; an unseasonably chilling cold front moved in. Alastor and Adeline had sensuously entangled themselves among blankets they had pulled with them down onto the floor; beside the light of the fireplace.

Afterward; Adeline awoke; lying against Alastor – her back to his chest – as he laid stretched out behind her; literally playing with fire. He leaned propped up behind her; wrapped in the blankets and pressed close beside her. His arm and hand stretched out; a lick of vibrant green flames dancing in his palm. He starred at the flames moving in his hand; tilting it this way and that – he coaxed the green fire to dance across his skin: trailing across his fingers and knuckles in a beautiful movement. Adeline watched as he absently toyed with the flame; seemingly lost in his own thoughts.

“What are you thinking about?” She asked him, softly.

“Heh,” He shifted behind her; he hadn’t realized that she was awake. “I’m not sure that I was…thinking of anything…dear Adeline.”

Her eyes followed the green flame. Its glow contrasted brilliantly with the soft orange and yellow tones coming from the flames within her fireplace.

She watched it; thinking about how – with each passing day – she thought she could feel the unseen shackle and chain at her neck….tightening and growing heavier.

“Will it-“ She swallowed, and Alastor felt her growing nervousness. “Will it hurt? Will it hurt when…?” She released a shaky breath, then quietly. “Do you even know?”

“I’ll ensure that it won’t, dearest Adeline.” He promised her.

They both starred at the vibrant green flame; still dancing through Alastor’s fingers and all across his hand; skimming his wrist…neither of them believing each other’s truest intents.

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“I-uh,” Alastor began, talking with Adeline over coffee. He had set his “Oh Deer” mug down, looking at her. “I wanted to ask you something.”

Adeline sipped from her own mug. “Oh?”

“There’s an…event.” He told her. “They happen pretty regularly but I’ve never really had the interest in attending one before.” He was saying. “This one is supposed to be a kind of…a New Orleans themed-thing so it’s kind of down our alley.”

Adeline just drank from her coffee; waiting for him to continue.

“It’s called…La Danse Macabre: The Dance of Death. It’s a kind of party.” He was saying, watching for her reaction. “I’ve been invited to attend and I’m allowed to bring any guest of my choosing but it’s…a multi-realm sort of gathering.”

“Wait, what?” Adeline forgot her coffee.

“It will be an unforgettable evening for you; I assure you.” Alastor continued. “You’ll see things that…well, you may not wish to see but, if you are so inclined…I’d guarantee your safety, of course.”

“This party is in…Hell?” Adeline blurted.

“No, no.” Alastor shook his head. “It’s a…realm-between-realms sort of place. A being with that sort of power utilizes his resources to host these types of events. Not really my idea of prioritizing ones influences but I can appreciate the taste in entertainment.”

“So…what kinds of things that I ‘might-not-wish-to-see’ are we talking about here?”

“Hm…” Alastor thought for a moment. “There will be a multitude of other demons attending: Overlords, sinners, imps…various beings from all across the rings of Hell. Humans too, I’m sure. I can’t say for certain but I’d imagine there will be such things as: orgies, exhibitionism, voyeurism, cannibalism, vampirism…cannibalistic orgies, obviously some sadism, masochism-“

“So…it’s like some really fucked up BDSM party?” Adeline starred at him.

“No…” Alastor told her, then “Well, yes…kind of? There will just be a lot going on. Like I said, you would be perfectly safe attending with me…if it’s something you might find interesting. We could leave the event at anytime.”

“It sounds…fun?” Adeline tried, and Alastor made a face. “No, seriously. I’m in. I just…don’t really know what to expect… When is it?”

“June 13th.”

“That’s…only days away.” Adeline thought aloud.

“Yes. Like, I said though we don’t have to-“

“What do I wear?” She asked him.

“Anything really, nothing if you wanted to.” He shrugged.

She thought for a moment. “The black dress you gave me…would that work?”

“It would be perfect.”

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Memento mori

The words were significantly placed wherever one looked throughout the event; darkly reminding each and every attendee to the party that one should always remember; that you will die.

Alastor had chosen to dress specially for the occasion. Coming as the radio demon; he was dressed in a red voodoo-themed suit and hat to match. The suit was a deep red with accentuated stitching throughout and the jacket to it had two distinct coat tails at the back. The hat that he wore was an equally red top-hat with the same exaggerated stitching; a pair of large pin-needles stuck and angled into the top. With the attire; he had chosen to wear a black make-up; dark rings forming around both eyes and sweeping both upward and downward sharply into a haunting macabre image of the makeup one might find with a clown’s eyes. At the corners of this smile, he had the same makeup trickling down into sharp points; giving his wide grin a rather dark and grotesque look.

Adeline had come in the black dress he had gifted her many years before. Like the red dress; it had a prominent slit that cut up her leg sharply at one side. The chest of it was less revealing from the front, though. Instead of opening up at the breasts and dipping down; the material of it rose upward; wrapping around her neck. Sleeveless; it hung from her shoulders; opening more from the sides and lending a glimpse to her braless side breasts. Like Alastor; she came wearing makeup. Her face was painted in an elaborate masquerade mask pattern; the sharp black details of it contrasted vibrantly in an outline of shimmering green. Her hair was pulled up and lifted at the back; beautiful dark ringlets of brown hair cascading across her shoulders and down her back.

There was a lot going on, just as Alastor had promised. All manner of creatures surrounded them; engaging in benignly normal activities such as mingling, gossiping and dancing to: having freaky-ass sex on the floor; against the walls or whilst heedlessly leaning over tall balconies overhead; some were greedily consuming raw and bleeding flesh – throwing globs of gore and blood across the room; others were biting and licking bleeding wounds from off of the other guests; and, so much more…

Adeline starred and gawked around her; taking it all in… but never once did she feel uncertain or unsafe with Alastor by her side. The others all parted around him - as if he were Moses and all of these hellish beings around them the Red Sea - wherever they went; some even openly fled the event immediately upon realizing he was one who was in attendance.

Looking at him; she saw that he was very much in his own element here. He possessed and commanded such a power over all of these other hellish beings…that few dared to so much as look at them. He played ignorant to the responses that he elicited in others; choosing to keep his full attention toward Adeline and her reactions to the goings-on around them. She knew that he fully enjoyed getting to show her the affect he had on the masses.

They wandered about and through the throng of bodies for a time. Adeline could smell the delectable scents of various New Orleans cuisines and drink that had been set out for everyone to partake in; but Alastor had ensured that they had already eaten, telling her it would be prudent for them to avoid consuming any food or drink provided to them at this event. Skeletons and mounts of alligators adorned the room; voodoo symbols and dolls scattered all throughout; the scent of swamp and cypress surrounding them wherever they went. Soft and bouncy tones of jazz playing to them; from all around.

They found time for dancing, of course – always enjoying getting to share this past time with each other. But, Adeline was far more interested in seeing everything she could that was going on around them.

Alastor guided her through the rooms; occasionally commenting to her on the different types of demons or sinners she was seeing but she really couldn’t fathom any of it. He acknowledged and spoked to no one at any time. When she remarked on this; he laughed - telling her that he had made pangs to know who all would be in attendance to this particular activity: no one of significant note would be here to recognize him that normally frequented his social circles.

“Ah…” She had teased him. “Can’t ruin that fragile reputation of yours. Don’t want the other evil and all-powerful Overlords of Hell thinking I’ve turned you into a has been….”

He quirked his smile and an ear at that; finding great humor in her jape at him.

After a time, the shock of seeing everything happening there at the event came a growing fascination; which then turned into a powerful curiosity: swiftly becoming excitement and then turning into…arousal. A screeching erupted beside them at one point and blood splattered across Adeline’s cheek. Laughing; Alastor pulled her to him – licking the drops from off of her skin, openly and in front of everyone to see.

Heat flooded Adeline’s face; sinking and soaking into her body.

Feeling this change in her; he pulled her into him and he led her into a rather – erotic - dance routine. Surrounded by strangers and surrounded by strange creatures; Alastor held Adeline close to him; moving with her - his hands openly traveling to intimate places for anyone who wished to see. Adeline gasped; but didn’t stop him – instead she welcomed his touch; and began exploring him as they danced – in kind.

She felt eyes seeing them but not watching – not really; felt others near but not intruding. No one here cared what they did or what they were doing – certainly not enough to judge or stop them. Far more sinfully sweet deeds were being partook and partaken in. Alastor and Adeline were essentially…alone – just he and her – and no one and nothing else around them mattered.

Tightly entangled in their moving embrace; Adeline opened her mouth against his and he found her tongue. He slipped a hand between them; massaging and squeezing one of her breasts through the thin and soft material of her dress. She lifted a knee; pressing into him with a lovely pressure.

Turning her; Alastor pulled Adeline into him again now so that she was pressed faced away from him but against him. He continued to dance with her and she curved into him; her arm wrapping around the nape of his neck and threading into his hair. He kissed at her heated neck; his hands traveling lower and lower across the soft fabric of her dress; claws delicately dragging and touching her skin through the material.

Reaching behind her and between them, she slid her hand across the lower lapels to his suit jacket; following them down she found his stomach; then his waist…feeling the bulge at his seam she softly squeezed and he shuddered pleasurably against her.

Looking forward; she caught their reflections looking back at her from a old mirror that adorned one of the dance floor walls. Alastor possessively encircled Adeline with one arm; his clawed hand sliding to her neck and holding her face forward to look at them.

Adeline could see through the mirror that her skin was vibrantly flushed red; nearly stark against the black of the dress. Alastor pressed his face closely to hers; his dark eyes never leaving their reflections.

“Here?” He breathed – nearly panting against her ear; sounding…uncertain.

“No.” She squeezed him again. “Take me to bed, Luc.”

----------------------------------------------------------------------------

Alastor and Adeline fell into her bed together; both naked and without makeup now.

“What…the fuck….was all....of that!?” She panted between kissing him.

He laughed as he was kissing her. “You lasted a lot longer there than I thought you would…” He murmured against her sweating skin. “I thought you might like to leave as soon as we got there.”

He moved back to her mouth; pulling at her lower lip carefully with his teeth.

“That was…” She panted when he released her, “That was…” She couldn’t find the words.

He laughed again. “I’m surprisingly pleased; I didn’t anticipate you to enjoy yourself so much.”

Twisting underneath him, she reached for him; finding his erect and throbbing length she spread her legs and lifted her hips, guiding him into her.

“Oh, just….fuck me.” She moaned as he thrust himself deeply into her.

He groaned; feeling himself already on the brink of it.

“Luc…”

“Adeline…”

Moving together; they became lost within each other.

______________________________________________________________

Fuck…

Alastor – dressed in only his black boxers – stood beside the window of Adeline’s bedroom; looking out. It was well and late into the night now but the horizon burned in a soft, smoldering red-orange; the smell of burning cypress filling the air. Alastor breathed deeply; enjoying both the sight and the smell of destruction to something he found so dear to him. How irritatingly symbolic…

“Luc? What’s going on?”

He turned; Adeline had dressed into her sweats and T-shirt, coming to see what he was doing.

“It’s a swamp fire; caused by lightning from all the storms we’ve been getting.” He answered her, turning back to watch the distant flames. “They’re saying on the radio that they will be evacuating parts of the city.”

“Do we need to leave?” She asked him.

“No.” He shook his head. “It won’t make it this far…I can smell a heavy rain coming. It will be here by morning.”

Adeline came to the window, standing beside him and watching the ebbing and waning of the far-off embers.

“Do you really plan to go through with it?” Alastor asked her; still starring out the window. “Are you really planning to surrender your soul for…Henry’s?”

She was surprised to hear him ask it – at least, so directly.

“Yes.” She told him.

He looked at her; one ear cocked to the side and she knew he really wanted to know why.

“I’m just…I’m done, Luc.” She sighed. “And, I think…I really think this was something that I was meant to do.” He made a face at that.

“You’re not going to give up Henry’s soul and I know you won’t give up mine…maybe you can’t, I don’t know but…we knew where this was heading….We’ve known it for a long time and…nothing lasts forever.”

He said nothing to that; his gaze drifting back to the window.

“I don’t know if it really will make a difference for him…for Henry…this sacrifice that I am making.” She said quietly. “It may not but…I have to give him this chance because…no one can do it for me.”

Alastor’s ears pulled back briefly at her words.

“Come back to bed? We can talk about this in the morning…We have time...” Adeline took his hand in hers. Following her; he crawled into the covers beside her – pressing himself to her and holding her close.

As she drifted off – falling soundly asleep beside him he thought about how she might be ready and willing to walk into the fire…but he wasn’t ready to let its flames consume her.

Better not to wait then.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------

Chapter 21

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uwmspeccoll · 2 months

Text

A Valentine's Day Wood Engraving Wednesday

REBECCA GILBERT

We mark this especially romantic Wood Engraving Wednesday with this wood engraving by Philadelphia-based artist and printmaker Rebecca Gilbert from the 2020 calendar of the Wood Engravers’ Network (WEN). Here, Gilbert reinterprets Hans Holbein's (1497–1543) woodcut "The Lady" from his well-known series The Dance of Death (Basel, 1523–26), with an English translation of the French quatrain by Gilles Corrozet (1510–1568) paired with the image in the 1538 Lyon edition, reminding us that love is only temporal, so we should rejoice while we have it. Of her work in wood, Gilbert's website notes:

These processes allow the integration of a high level of detail and the ability to work both very large (woodcut) and very small (wood engraving) simultaneously. The contrast in scale directly relates to the ways she explores ideas of perception, space, and seeing.

Our copy of the calendar is a donation of WEN member and Wisconsin resident Tony Drehfal.

View posts from Valentine’s Days past.

View more posts from the 2020 WEN Calendar.

View more work by women wood engravers.

View more posts with wood engravings!

#Wood Engraving Wednesday #St. Valentine's Day #Valentine's Day #love #death #wood engravers #women wood engravers #Rebecca Gilbert #The Dance of Death #Hans Holbein #Gilles Corrozet #Wood Engravers' Network #WEN #WEN Calendar #Tony Drehfal

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contremineur · 10 months

Photo

Hans Holbein the Younger, The knight (from The Dance of Death, 1523-5)

from here

#hans holbein #the dance of death

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calvins-dad · 2 years

Text

Anxiety, dread, and motion

Cop Car; Mitski // The Dance of Death; Michael Wolgemut // Choreomania; Florence and the Machine

Ids in alt text

#mitski #cop car #mitski cop car #the dance of death #choreomania #florence and the machine #dance fever #florence welch #florence and the machine lyrics #mitski lyrics #web weaving #mine #things i’ve made #i made this

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carnageandculture · 1 year

Photo

The Knight & The Nobleman From The Dance of Death designed by Hans Holbein the Younger Ca. 1526, published 1538

#hans holbein the younger #art #art history #woodcut #engraving #the dance of death

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arinewman7 · 2 years

Text

The Dance Of Death

Alphonse Mucha

#Alphonse Mucha #art #artist #The Dance Of Death

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k-i-l-l-e-r-b-e-e-6-9 · 7 months

Text

𝔗𝔥𝔢 𝔇𝔞𝔫𝔠𝔢 𝔬𝔣 𝔇𝔢𝔞𝔱𝔥 𝔟𝔶 𝔅𝔢𝔯𝔫𝔞𝔯𝔡 𝔓𝔞𝔯𝔱𝔯𝔦𝔡𝔤𝔢, յգյԴ

#the dance of death #dance of death #Bernard Partridge #1917 #xx century #20th century #memento mori #death #dead #grim reaper #the first world war #the great war #skull #skeleton #art #painting #artwork

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disease · 1 year

Audio

SHADES ETERNAL RAIN DESCENDING [THE DANCE OF DEATH, 2021]

#audio #shades #bass music #electro #experimental #the dance of death #electronic #music

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nnightskiess · 9 months

Text

the dance of death, part four

₊° - 𝐰𝐞𝐝𝐧𝐞𝐬𝐝𝐚𝐲 𝐚𝐝𝐝𝐚𝐦𝐬 𝐱 𝐟𝐞𝐦𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: 𝘸𝘩𝘦𝘯 𝘸𝘦𝘥𝘯𝘦𝘴𝘥𝘢𝘺'𝘴 𝘪𝘯𝘵𝘳𝘪𝘨𝘶𝘦 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘤𝘩𝘦𝘴 𝘢 𝘤𝘦𝘳𝘵𝘢𝘪𝘯 𝘩𝘪𝘨𝘩, 𝘸𝘪𝘭𝘭 𝘪𝘵 𝘣𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘳𝘵 𝘰𝘧 𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘰𝘸𝘯 𝘥𝘰𝘸𝘯𝘧𝘢𝘭𝘭, 𝘰𝘳 𝘰𝘧 𝘯𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘮𝘰𝘳𝘦'𝘴 𝘥𝘦𝘮𝘪𝘴𝘦...

the dance of death, masterlist

☾ ⋆*·:⋆*·:⠀ *⋆.*:·ﾟ .: ⋆*·ﾟ: .⋆

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐮𝐨𝐮𝐬 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐨𝐟 𝐌𝐢𝐬𝐬 𝐓𝐡𝐨𝐫𝐧𝐡𝐢𝐥𝐥... had made Wednesday zone out the moment she had sat down in her seat, not only because she already held most information that was currently being taught, but also because a certain kind of mystery could not be erased from the forefront of her mind. She hadn't really known what to expect when first enrolling at Nevermore Academy, besides being surrounded by peers 'like her' and knowing she would want to stay in solitude nonetheless. But that the school held such a plethora of mysteries and had welcomed them all to her doorstep, had been a pleasant surprise. If only she hadn't tried her best to not let her parents enrol her at Nevermore, she could have had a headstart on solving all these riddles, murders and myths. But there was no time to solve anything now that she sat trapped in Nevermore's greenhouses, Miss Thornhills enthusiastic voice mixing with the students' quiet whispered chatter and the scribbling of Xavier's pencil.

She had stared intently at Thornhill's enormous venus fly trap plant that rested proudly on the teacher's desk, and had watched it slowly but surely close its leaves to devour the insect it had been given at the start of the class. The carnivorous plant was famous for trapping its prey and taking its sweet time to digest it, making whatever it had trapped squirm and crawl to save its life. It was awfully cathartic to Wednesday. Perhaps she was starting to become a little like this captivating plant; holding on tightly and not able to let anything go right until the end. Wednesday had now put her claws into the mystery of her violin player, and would definitely not let go until she held all the answers to her questions.

Though class seemed to go on and on, watching the plant had been an amusing way to pass the time. The insect's legs shook and trembled as it tried to climb out or squirm itself between the barely shut leaves, to no avail. It was definitely better than listening to Thornhill talk about things she had already read about during her early childhood years, or looking at what the boy beside her was scribbling in his notebook. She had sensed his desire to talk the minute she'd realised the only vacant seat was next to him, but had made him turn back to his drawing, defeated, with only one harsh look. Filling the time with whispered small talk would only be torture to her, and not the kind of torture she often found herself daydreaming about.

The corners of Wednesday's lips curled upwards in satisfaction as she watched the plant finally shut its leave completely. The squirming of the insect against the leaves faded away, but she found herself growing unsatisfied as a realisation hit her; although she might have set her mind on solving her newest mystery, she was not even close to finding answers. Nor did she know where to even start, and that bothered her.

Her mind wandered with each passing minute and she pursed her lips in concentrated thought, falling into the endless pit of everything that had happened after she'd arrived at Nevermore. From Roan to Jericho's murders and monster, to Weems acting strange, her father being involved in a murder and the discovery of the Nightshades, who had enticed her need for answers even further by their condemnation of her quest. Surely, that alone already proved that there was more to the supposed ghost story than met the eye, more than maybe even Weems was aware of. Unless Weems was in on it all, of course. Wednesday had yet to fully pierce through the puzzling exterior of Nevermore's principal.

Through her endless enthusiastic rambling, horrible taste in music and despicable choice for room decoration, Wednesday had actually grown to a level of civilization with Enid, something that had surprised even herself. Maybe it was just because the werewolf had been so kind as to share her findings on her violin mystery or shared her intrigue on it, or perhaps Wednesday just validated how the perky girl had made absolutely no problem of their third roommate, and had even bonded with Thing so swiftly as if it was the natural order of life to befriend a severed hand. To the Addams family, it was, but Wednesday knew how most people lacked the capacity to broaden their boundaries of acceptance and prejudice.

Still, it remained a fact that no one at Nevermore seemed to know of any violin player. Even principal Weems herself had unknowingly helped Wednesday's investigation further as she had confessed to the absence of string music for years until the night of Wednesday's serenade. No matter how pathetically silly the Nightshade Society might have seemed to Wednesday at first glance, there was no denying that they held power with their access to a myriad of books, all of which held knowledge of years of historic events, myths and unsolved mysteries of Nevermore and its surrounding area. It had been the Library that had aided Roan in his suspicions of the girl, which could have resulted in her death if she hadn't been saved by another monster, the Hyde. Perhaps if Wednesday's arrival at Nevermore Academy had already been foreseen by Roan's mother years ago, it could mean that the Nightshade library held more of these foreshadowing theories of demises and unearthings.

Snapping out of the whirlwind in her mind, Wednesday glanced at Xavier. The boy was frantically scribbling away in his sketchbook, concentration holding him in a focused trance. He firmly bit down on his bottom lip as he worked on his shading with a stick of charcoal, but it was as if he could hear the questions dance in Wednesday's head that made him look up. When he realised that Wednesday was no longer entranced by the plant as she had been for the past hour without so much a blink of her eye, he quickly shut down his sketchbook, burying it deep into his backpack right after.

Wednesday lifted a brow at his actions, "If that was what I think it was, then I need you to show me."

"No, I don't," Xavier quickly shot back in a hushed whisper, eyes glancing anywhere but at the Addams girl beside him, knowing he would falter otherwise.

"You need to tell me what you've seen."

He gave her a quick look, nibbled on his bottom lip and let out a quick breath through his nose out of frustration. Wednesday had him between a rock and a hard place; tell her and risk piquing her curiosity even more and making her get herself and the school into trouble, or don't say anything and risk Wednesday wreaking even more havoc as she tried to dig up the dirt her own. Either way, Xavier knew that whichever outcome he would choose, it would turn out horribly one way or another.

He let his eyes wander around the classroom, craning his head over his shoulder to see if anyone was even paying attention to the two of them. But his gaze locked with Bianca, and he could feel her eyes, and those of all the other Nightshades having watched their interaction, bore into the back of his head as he turned back around.

"Not now," Was all he muttered firmly with a stiff lip as he leaned into his right, where Wednesday only reared back from the close proximity. Still, she furrowed her brows in response, not having expected such a quick retaliation. If anything, she had imagined him to keep silent with an angry pout on his lips or a witty rebuttal... maybe even a word of dismay. She lifted her chin and took his apathetic nonchalance with stride, not minding that she had been brushed aside so harshly, knowing he would concede later on. If he would keep his promise, that was. And if he wouldn't, then there would always be a way to get her answer, but then she'd get them on her own terms and she wasn't sure if the boy would look that very much. But she had asked nicely at least once, after all.

Wednesday kept her lips pursed, and this time, kept her gaze locked on the tiny wooden mantel clock on Miss Thornhill's desk, patiently waiting for time to pass. But as she dozed off into her maze of thoughts again, she felt a faint tap on her shoulder. Then again, immediately afterwards, but harsher this time, as if the person had been unsure if Wednesday had even felt at first. Four obvious and harsh taps followed each other at rapid speed and dug into her skin.

She steadily turned around in her seat, uninterested and maybe even a little vexed at the disruption of her thoughts, the audacity of having breached her personal space and the prospect of having to socialize. Yet, as her eyes flashed left and right, no one was behind her, no one able to have reached her shoulder from their distance anyway. She watched as Yoko's head rested against the palm of her hands and how Enid perked up the moment their gazes locked. Then she saw Bianca, who looked at her through squinted eyes. She turned back around, letting her eyes travel across the many plants standing to the side; maybe she could catch Thing hiding behind one, even if she knew damn well that if Thing had been the one behind the taps, both Yoko and Bianca would have looked at her differently like everyone usually did when they first saw the handy addition to the Addams family.

Wednesday brushed it off, seeing no need to dwell on it now. Fifteen minutes and class would be over. Keeping her eyes on the plant that had intrigued her for the first half of class, she suddenly realised that she would need to do her best to stay on the winning side of things, or else she wouldn’t be the victorious carnivorous plant, but the insect it had trapped and killed.

*⋆.*:·ﾟ .: ⋆*·ﾟ: .⋆

The greenhouse emptied out quickly, but Xavier gathered his stuff at an excruciatingly slow pace, trying to stall the inevitable, making Wednesday's impatience grow by the second. Finally, he hoisted his backpack around his shoulder and the two left Nevermore's greenhouses, Thornhill watching them leave.

With a soft tug on the sleeve of her blackened Nevermore uniform, Xavier ushered her to a more secluded place outside in the gardens, away from prying ears.

"Listen-" As Xavier sighed and looked around him, Wednesday already knew he was trying to get himself out of the situation as soon as he could, "I know we all owe you an explanation, I know we've been weird, but I care too much about you to risk getting you killed."

"You should know that I happen to find near-death experiences thrilling and delightful."

"Right," He grew uneasy as Wednesday's penetrating glare tore through his eyes, "Still, I'd rather have you alive than dead. And you don't know what you will unleash onto the school if you continue to push on. Please, think this through."

"I appreciate the sentiment, however, you made a promise; to tell me what was shown to you in your drawing."

"I never promised anything."

Wednesday gave him a look, knowing he might have been right with that one, but that she had him in a corner nonetheless.

"Alright! Fine. But honestly Wednesday, you need to swear to let it go. Nevermore's already got enough problems as it is."

"You do realise that I will look for answers either way, with or without your help."

Xavier nodded, a hint of a grimace on his face, "You've made that clear. But look, as much as I hate to say this, if you will ignore our warnings from this point on, we'll have to try and stop you."

"I'll be looking forward to it. Though I hope your attempts to thwart me will be far better than your attempt to kidnap me." She lifted her chin and examined him through squinted eyes. Xavier seemed uneasy, whether that was because he refused to help the girl further or admit to trying to stop her she did not know. Or maybe he seemed so unsettled because of what he had seen in his drawing, "You really are all terrified, aren't you?"

"If you knew what you were digging up, you'd be too."

"To be terrified is a foreign concept to me." Wednesday folded her arms against her chest, "You expect me to back down, yet you make my quest to find answers so much more interesting by being cryptic."

Xavier furrowed his brows, realising his mistake, "Look, you probably misheard it that first night. No one at Nevermore plays the violin or any other string instrument, it's literally impossible for you to have heard it. I know that Miss Thornhill likes her fair share of classical music, perhaps you heard that echo around Ophelia Hall? It's easy to mistake where the sound is coming from in such an old building, you know?"

"Your attempts to sway me are endearing." Wednesday muttered, quickly losing her patience, "Now tell me what you saw."

Xavier locked his jaw and shook his head, "I can't- I won't, but I'll show you the drawing if it makes you back down," He regretfully pulled his sketchbook out of his back, seeming to try and fight his own decision, and flicked through the pages, keeping it open with his hand on the right page to stop the harsh autumn wind from blowing through the pages.

"There, happy now?"

Wednesday watched the drawing with focused intent; Xavier had depicted her holding a violin at its neck, the strings snapped in half and sticking out in a tangle, her eyes filled by the harsh scribbling of his charcoal, with an equally as black silhouette lurking behind her, whose hand rested on her shoulder. What it meant, she did not know, but Xavier did, and it seemed to plague him.

"No, forget about it." He spoke before the words could even leave her mouth, "I've already done more than I should've or wanted to." He was quick to put his sketchbook away in his bag again, when a gust of wind ruffled through the pages, making Wednesday catch a glimpse of another drawing. Deciding to keep her mouth shut, she turned on her heel,

"Thank you for being a regretful waste of my time."

"You don't know what you're getting yourself into, Wednesday."

The corners of her mouth pulled up into the ghost of a grin, "That's exactly why I love it so."

With her mind now even more set on continuing her search, she also had another goal in mind; to find out what other sketches Xavier was hiding. She knew the boy had been drawing this week more than ever, and going by the way he held his sketchbook close to his chest at all times, she knew it was something he didn't want her to see. Maybe her handy little friend would be of much to find out what it was exactly.

*⋆.*:·ﾟ .: ⋆*·ﾟ: .⋆

Wednesday could hear the music booming through the stairwell as she walked her way up to Ophelia Hall's attic. Enid was so enthralled singing along to whatever K-Pop band she was fawning over now, that she failed to sense her roomie's presence until the Addams girl stood right in front of her.

"I'd rather watch a video of humans reuniting with their pets than have to listen to your choice of music one minute longer."

"Oh, Wednesday!" Enid's cheek flushed and she quickly hid whatever she had been knitting underneath her duvet. As if she hadn't just been caught, the girl batted her eyelashes, then turned her music down.

"Needed to blow off some steam, all good now. Anyway, I assumed you would be out looking for answers?"

With only an eye roll, Wednesday dropped her stuff near the door and sat back down behind her typewriter, growing frustrated when she couldn't find the right words. What was she going to write about now? About what had happened lately? About her findings? Her research? About Jericho's monster or about her father's conviction? Continue her novel? Or maybe about what she thought was going on with the Nightshades?

"What have you been up to?" Enid interrupted her thoughts. The girl now lied on her bed, her chin resting on the palms of her hands as her legs dangled up behind her in the air.

Wednesday turned around, "Have you seen Thing?"

"Uh, he painted my nails before class. Then he went off. I figured he went to look for you?"

Wednesday bit the insides of her cheeks, perhaps it had been Thing after all who had tried to catch her attention by tapping her shoulder.

Enid excitedly wiggled one of her hands, "He picked Silver Moon, do you like it?"

"It...," She watched Enid's excited and expectant expression as she anticipated Wednesday's answer, and remembered Thing's warning to be less harsh to the girl who tried her best to accommodate her, "...suits you."

Enid's grin only grew wider, instantly keen to keep the conversation going now that Wednesday seemed in somewhat of a good mood. But Wednesday still sat in her chair, back turned towards her again, staring at the wall right in front of her as her thoughts travelled to the depths of her mind.

"Okay... what's going on? You're being more quiet than usual."

Wednesday glanced at Enid, contemplating whether to be honest or not, but then quickly turned back around to type away on her typewriter, the words suddenly begging to be written as they flowed out of her fingers.

"Well, that's not assuring." Enid laughed awkwardly, getting off the bed and approaching with caution. She was yet to completely figure out all of her roomie's tells, her behaviour sometimes still left her baffled and confused, even hurt at times.

"You haven't written that much in days. Does that mean that you found out more about her?" Though Enid wasn't sure about digging up information on the whole mystery anymore after all her friends had tried to turn her away from it, she remained intrigued nonetheless. She'd also given up on trying to convince Wednesday from letting it go, knowing the girl was a stickler for the rules and tended to be like a rabid dog; refusing to let go, no matter who asked.

"I am certain there's more to the story, and I will find out what they're hiding from me." Wednesday turned around, determination etched in her features.

"Okay... but maybe you shouldn't... if what Xavier told me is true, then... well, I don't want you to turn insane. Or get killed. He told me that's what will happen once you hear her play. She'll drive you mad, visit you in your dreams and then come for you!" Enid rushed out in panic and played with her fingers, an adorable saddened and plagued pout on her face. Wednesday could almost feel her heart beat once if it hadn't been for the disgust she felt right after. Enid's words of care had taken her a bit by surprise.

She swiftly pulled herself together, "I acknowledge your worry, but I have to do this." She turned back to her typewriting, a clear sign that this conversation was over, needing to get her thoughts off her chest. "Besides, there's no use dwelling on me losing my sanity since it seems you all think I have no sanity to begin with. And frankly, I'm already looking forward to all the nightmares."

Enid slowly retreated back to her bed, unsettling concern in her eyes and her chest tightening with a feeling of impending danger. Still, she did not utter another word to the Addams girl but granted her the peace she knew she needed. She had mumbled out a quiet goodnight before turning all her lights off, except for the fairy lights around her bed to give her some sense and safety in the dark. But as she had glanced over to Wednesday's bed half an hour later to check up on her roomie, the girl already seemed fast asleep.

*⋆.*:·ﾟ .: ⋆*·ﾟ: .⋆

The second Wednesday heard Enid's soft occasional snore, she immediately sat up on her bed. She was a woman on a mission, and she would not let anyone get in her way. Her feet almost floated as she rushed around Nevermore Academy, her mind made up and the determination evident in her walk. Arriving at the Quad, she quickly turned to disappear in the shadowed nook that would lead her to the library, but a sound stopped her in her tracks. An echoed melodious whistled tune bounced against the walls of the Quad, disappearing in the open air of the cold autumn night. Not wanting any Nightshade member, or worse, Weems, to catch her in the act and stop her, she disappeared within the shadows of the dimly lit stone hall. Perking her ears to try and see if she might have misheard, she listened intently for another sound, but none followed.

Turning to the statue, Wednesday snapped twice and watched it open its entrance for her. The gravelling of the statue scraped against the stone tiles and was like a siren in the night, and if Wednesday had kept her ears perked, she would have recognised the melodious tune that echoed against the pillars of the Quad once more, as she had done mere seconds before. Instead, she followed the stairs down, feeling the eyes of the many people in the portraits rhetorically watching her enter the Nightshades Library.

The soft pitter-patter that followed behind her was unmistakenly that of Thing, and she all but rolled her eyes realising he was probably there to put a spanner in her works. She stopped in the middle of the library and watched him fasten his step to catch up to her.

"You'll find yourself to be powerless in your attempt to cease my need to find answers. Besides, where have you been all day?"

Thing was shaking in his place, quickly signing that he was there to protect her before walking right past her. He hoisted himself up onto the many bookcases and hastily skimmed through the titles and covers that were on display. Wednesday watched, her eyebrows slightly raised in surprise, for this was the first time Thing had not tried to keep her away from danger. He had either seen reason in her quest or valued the need of keeping his five fingers intact.

"Where to start..." She quietly muttered beneath her breath, fingers travelling along the many binds of books. Some looked more worn and read than others, some had vivid golden lettering stamped on their leathered covers, and others were barely being held together by their spine.

Thing, knowing the information Xavier had shared with Enid, stopped and turned back to Wednesday.

"What is it, Thing?"

He signed, pointed, tapped and waved chaotically to get his message across. Without struggle, Wednesday recapitulated exactly what he had said,

"It's supposedly a ghost story where when one hears the violin, they're doomed as they await to be killed by her?" She pursed her lips in thought and tilted her head, "How very disappointing, I've never liked ghosts."

Thing signed away again.

"If it holds any truth, then I don't see why I should be terrified. Yes, I've heard her play, but I have also not gone non compos mentis. Yet." Wednesday mumbled absentmindedly, continuing her search for any book that could be of use, "Then again, I already am what people consider deranged."

She crossed the circled room to take a look at the bookcases on the other side, realising she probably needed more of a historic read of the Academy. If this was just a ghost story, it wouldn't have made the members of the Nightshade Society so wary. Meaning that if it held any truth, she was most likely to find something in Nevermore's history. Thing followed her example and worked himself through the dusty rows of forgotten books. It was clear that this side of the library had been untouched for years.

Promptly, Thing stopped, jumped over onto Wednesday's shoulder and frantically pointed at the portrait hidden in the shadows beneath the stairs.

Veiled beneath a thick layer of cobwebs and dust was a painting of a girl, her back straight and her piercing eyes boring right into Wednesday's, her violin neatly and proudly portrayed in front of her as it rested on her thigh. Her gaze demanded attention; her lip slightly crooked into a mischievous grin and her eyebrows resting in a manner that gave the sense she knew what Thing and Wednesday were up to. Her stare was alluring, her face memorable, for Wednesday had never seen a girl look this evil yet innocent. Intrigued by the devilish glint in the eyes that demanded to be looked at, Wednesday found herself frozen in her stare. There was something about the portrait that just wasn't quite right. As Wednesday blinked once to see if things would change, she stared at the same face, with that same need to be looked at, and Wednesday gave in to that request wholeheartedly.

She started to notice how the colours used were dark and earthy, perfectly captivating the violinist in the way she was meant to be seen; as someone mysterious and sinister. If anything, in this dim light of the Library, it looked more eerie than ever. Wednesday was drawn to it like a moth to a flame. If she didn't know any better, this portrait could have very well been part of her mother's portrait collection of people who had died in mysterious ways that adorned the walls of their living room back home at the Addams mansion.

Her captivation with the girl in the portrait was cut short when she heard someone try and tiptoe down the stairs.

"We're not the only nocturnal beings as it seems, Thing." She sighed, frustrated at the interruption, but Thing was no longer resting on her shoulder. She had been so drawn to the portrait that she hadn't even noticed him digging back into all the books behind her.

"Okay, here I thought that it was clear that you would no longer be allowed to enter after you so carelessly waved off the invitation to join the Nightshades," Bianca Barclay's voice echoed off the walls as she appeared out of the shadows, arms crossed and a haughty and disdainful look on her face.

"Here I thought you would be wiser than to think I would follow the rules of your adorable little club." Wednesday turned her back to the portrait, shielding Bianca from the view.

Bianca sighed, "What is it you want, Wednesday?"

"An end to the ongoing torture of my roommate's appalling pop songs playing on a continuous loop."

Bianca shook her head in annoyance, ready to counter with a witty reply, until her face fell, "Wait, what is that?" She tried to look over Wednesday's shoulder, craning her head.

Wednesday only tilted hers to the side, thinking she was being tricked by the sudden change of attitude, her eyes still boring into Bianca's.

"No jokes, Wednesday... that portrait- what did you do?!"

Curious, Wednesday turned around. Her eyebrows rose as she saw what Bianca had alluded to; the eyes of the girl still pierced right at her, but now from an upside-down perspective. The whole portrait had turned itself around.

"Why the hell would you do that?!" Biance's voice rose and she took a calculated step back, glancing around her, afraid she would hear the melody start to echo as the story told. "Haven't you caused Nevermore enough trouble?!" Bianca rushed over her words, her voice laced with rage and irritation but with fright, most of all. Her feet slowly but surely took steps back, towards the stairs.

Wednesday watched Bianca's unease, not sensing what was so wrong about a little paranormal visit. Back at the Addams house, they often found things being moved or turned. At least there she'd had people around her who couldn't annoy her, solely for the fact she couldn't see or hear them. But here at Nevermore, the living were so unbearable to be around.

Wednesday started to gain great delight in the realisation that maybe, just maybe, Nevermore was home to some spirits as well. Though she could never really stand them back home, for they often made the doors slam and creak whenever she tried to write, it made this school all the more interesting.

With a shaking finger, Biance pointed at her, "You'll regret what you did, Wednesday,"

Wednesday turned back to the bookcases when Bianca's quick steps had finally disappeared, signalling the girl had left.

"We should go, before she brings her flock of insufferable friends."

Sneaking another quick look at the portrait, she walked up to it and decided to turn it back around, to leave it as it had been when she first saw it. She knew it would probably entertain the spirit even more that she had taken her bait, but maybe that was exactly what Wednesday wanted; to lure her out of the shadows she had been hiding in for who knows how long. However, as her hands touched the antique and ancient frame, a rush crept up her spine, making her body tingle with tiny jolts of electricity and her fingers turning freezing cold. Her head shot up, her eyes glazed over as she was forced into a trance-like state.

Only this time, she didn't travel into the vision itself. It was as if someone was pushing her out of them, blocking her view and restricting her senses. Images and whispered words flitted through her mind instead,

A manor in the woods, surrounded by vegetation and a lake. An old room filled with instruments, but the sound of a violin echoing above all. A name. The gates of Nevermore Academy. A body, idle, head down in the fountain in the Quad. Whispered words, pointed fingers; rumours. The sound of a violin playing. A name. Laughter; loud and devilish. A noose. A public execution at Jerrico's town square? A name. The feeling of rage, agony and betrayal. Pleading. A girl, unmistakenly the one from the portrait, looking out over the woods behind Nevermore. The spluttering sound of someone choking; a knife held to the throat. The lovely smell of iron; blood, and lots of it. And once again; a name.

A force was finally able to push her back into her body and Wednesday stumbled against the bookcases, falling on the ground with a handful of books dropping to the floor around her. She was rattled, and hazed. Thing watched with care, knowing the girl had seen something.

"Y/N. Her name is Y/N."

☾ ⋆*·:⋆*·:⠀ *⋆.*:·ﾟ .: ⋆*·ﾟ: .⋆

#the dance of death #dance of death #wednesday x reader #wednesday addams x reader #wednesday addams imagine #wednesday one shot #wednesday imagine

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