They're creepy and they're kooky



˚₊𓆩༺🕷༻𓆪₊˚

"𝕐𝔼𝕊, we've been forced from our home. Yes, we've been betrayed by those we trust, and yes, Lilith is being held captive by that horrid woman, but we are Addamses, and we will not submit," Morticia declared with fierce determination. She stood at the head of a small table in the dimly lit motel room, the rest of the family gathered around her. The flickering candlelight cast long shadows on the walls, emphasizing the sombre mood.

Gomez sat in a chair, his expression one of profound sadness and defeat, while Thing diligently massaged his head, trying to offer some comfort. Pugsley and Wednesday looked up at their mother with renewed hope.

Morticia continued, her voice steady and commanding. "Who recalls the fable of The Tortoise and the Hare? The swift yet lazy little cottontail and his slow but determined companion? What does this story teach us?"

Grandmama, her eyes gleaming with a mix of mischief and wisdom, chimed in with her own unique interpretation. "Kill the hare! Skin it. Boil it."

"Put the tortoise on the highway." Wednesday spoke with a sinister smile.

"During rush hour." Pugsley add with a proud smile. 

"Yes. We will survive. Poison us. Strangle us. Break our bones. We will come back for more," Morticia declared with unwavering resolve. Her voice echoed in the small, dimly lit motel room, filling it with an unyielding sense of determination. Wednesday, sitting at the table, took a bite of his cereal. His face twisted in disgust as he realized it was far from the macabre delicacies he was used to. Morticia noticed and smiled, a glint of amusement in her eyes. "And why?" she asked, her tone both inquisitive and confident.

Grandma, always one for the dramatic, responded with a wide grin, "Because we like it."

Pugsley joined in, his voice filled with conviction, "Because we're Addamses."

Gomez, sitting slumped in his chair, echoed the sentiment but with a tone of defeat, "We're Addamses."

Wednesday glanced at his father, concern etched on his face. Gomez's usually vibrant and enthusiastic spirit seemed dimmed by their current predicament. Wednesday's thoughts drifted to Lilith, wondering if she was alright. His heart ached at the thought of her being held by that vile woman. However, unbeknownst to him, Lilith had her own plans brewing. Wednesday, clenched his fists, his resolve hardening. He knew that somehow, they would find a way to rescue her and reclaim their home. The Addams family was not one to be easily defeated, and with each other's support, they would rise again.

🥀

Lilith, still confined to her room, let her emotions flow through her paintbrush as she worked on a new canvas. Her heart's desires and her brewing plans intertwined in each stroke. The room was filled with her masterpieces, each painting a testament to her creativity and resilience. She stepped back and admired her latest creation, a powerful image of a raven soaring over a field of dark roses, each petal tinged with shades of purple and black. The painting captured the essence of her spirit—dark yet beautiful, fragile yet unbreakable as the other was dark capturing Mrs. Craven.

Beside her easel, her tarot cards lay spread out on a small table. She had drawn several cards, meticulously interpreting their meanings and the fates they foretold, especially focusing on Mrs. Craven's destiny. Lilith smirked, satisfied with the ominous future the cards predicted for her aunt.

With a determined glint in her eyes, she continued painting, channelling her emotions and hopes into each piece. Every brushstroke was a step closer to reclaiming her freedom and reuniting with Wednesday. She knew she had to stay strong, not just for herself, but for the love she held so dearly in her heart.

🥀

As Mrs. Craven and Fester sat in the dining room, an awkward silence filled the air, heavy with unspoken tensions. They picked at their lunch without much enthusiasm, the clinking of cutlery the only sound breaking the oppressive quiet. Finally, Mrs. Craven broke the silence, her voice sharp and grating, "After lunch, we'll try again."

Fester, his gaze fixed on his plate, muttered, "Yes, Mother."

She continued, her tone dripping with disdain, "We'll find the money. Meanwhile, we have this little nest, quiet and cozy without that dreadful family. Soon, we will get rid of the pest, Lilith."

"Yes, Mother," Fester replied again, his voice flat and lifeless.

Suddenly, a faint, haunting melody began to play, the unmistakable sound of a music box. Mrs. Craven looked around, her annoyance turning to curiosity, and followed the sound. As she reached the hallway, she saw a music box placed conspicuously in the middle of the floor. It was old and ornate, its design eerily intricate. Confused, she approached it. Just as she reached for it, the music stopped abruptly, leaving a chilling silence in its wake.

Moments later, the creak of a door opening echoed through the corridor, the sound amplified by the eerie stillness. Mrs. Craven's spine tingled with an uneasy chill. She inhaled deeply, her voice trembling slightly as she called out, "Lilith, if this is you, I demand you to stop it at once."

Silence answered her, a silence so thick it felt suffocating. She walked towards the open door, where a sliver of light streamed into the dark hallway, casting long, sinister shadows. Just as she neared the doorway, a sudden force shoved her inside. The door slammed shut behind her with a deafening bang, the sound reverberating through the walls. She spun around and started pounding on the door, her knuckles turning white with the effort.

On the door, a tarot card was pinned reversed, the Seven of Swords, its meaning clear: Lies, Arguments, and Dishonesty.

Mrs. Craven's breathing quickened, her eyes darting around the room in panic. The shadows seemed to move, closing in on her. The sound of soft, mocking laughter filled the space, chilling her to the bone, and a shadow passed by the door, its presence malevolent and threatening.

"Let me out! Let me out!" she pleaded, her voice rising in pitch, frantic and desperate.

The laughter abruptly ceased, replaced by the sound of something sliding under the door. Mrs. Craven hesitated before picking up the piece of paper with trembling hands. The message, scrawled in red pen, read: "Your lies will trap you forever. Lets play a game."

As she read the words, a feeling of dread settled in her chest, the realization that she was at the mercy of a force she couldn't control. The house seemed to close in around her, the walls whispering her sins, the shadows dancing with the truth she tried to bury.

Lilith smiled at the door, listening to her aunt's frantic banging and desperate cries. The sound of Mrs. Craven's distress brought a grim satisfaction to Lilith. She had waited for this moment, and the plan was unfolding perfectly. With a final glance at the door, she turned and walked away, her footsteps echoing through the dimly lit corridor.

Her heart pounded with a mix of adrenaline and determination as she moved on to the next step of her plan. She knew she had to act quickly and precisely; there was no room for error. The halls of the house, once a place of torment, now felt like a labyrinth of opportunity.

Each step she took brought her closer to freedom and justice. She navigated the shadowy passages with ease, her mind focused on what needed to be done. Lilith's thoughts flickered to Wednesday, his face a beacon of strength and love in her mind. She vowed to herself that she would see him again, that they would be together, free from the clutches of her aunt's wickedness. Reaching her destination, Lilith paused, taking a deep breath to steady her nerves. She had prepared for this moment meticulously, and now it was time to see it through. With resolve in her eyes, she set to work, every action precise, every movement purposeful.

Lilith was no longer a victim; she was a force to be reckoned with.

˚₊𓆩༺🕷༻𓆪₊˚



By: SilverMist707

Hope you enjoyed it and please stay warm in this winter. <3