Chapter 10: Blood Lies, Blood Dies
Pugsley had not torn his eyes away from Regina.
He couldn't.
He couldn't, even when she had told him his family was not coming, that love was a mere façade, that Scarlett had betrayed him and how naïve had he been, that all he could do was wait, in agonizing thought… that he would be dead within the next several minutes.
Regina dug her nails into his sore cheek once more, and smiled… her smile, at him.
Then, slowly… she turned 'round… taking her time… savouring every masochistic, burning moment before ultimate ashen obliteration.
As she turned, she spoke. "Thirteen minutes." She stated, taking a deep, desperate breath in. "Thirteen minutes… and the blood moon will rise."
She turned, fully, then.
And her eyes widened at the sight before her. Or rather, the lack of it.
Her eyes instantly fell upon her daughter.
This was unintentional.
Regina's blazing, red irises and dilated pupils never left her for reasons that differed than those prior.
She looked at her daughter because… because she couldn't look anywhere else.
For there was nothing else in sight.
The ballroom… the feeding room… the ritual room, appeared larger than the castle it was contained in, without them.
It was she, and Scarlett… and the young boy that was to die in thirteen minutes.
Nothing else but the straps that held Pugsley down remained.
"Where are they?" Regina asked, upset. Her voice was laced with anger… and a sense of fear.
"They're gone, mother." Scarlett paused. "They just… vanished. One minute, they were here. And the next…" Her voice trailed off.
"Where the hell could they have gone?" Regina stepped down from the high point of the room and walked to her daughter, her rage bubbling over.
"I don't know, mother." Scarlett shrank back.
"Look at me, Scarlett." Regina ordered.
Scarlett met her eyes once more. "I don't know, really." She said. "They've never left like this before."
"That's because they can't." Regina attempted to stabilize her breathing. "We have an agreement, we all do. If they leave, we don't know where they could be. If they leave, they die."
Scarlett nodded. "I know, mother. I… I know." She toyed with the curls in her hair. "Is there a way we could carry on without them?"
Regina raised an eyebrow at her daughter. "What?"
"We can… somehow make do by ourselves." Scarlett clarified. "I'm sure before them you,-"
"Don't you dare, suggest such a thing." Regina's eyes flashed fire. Then, they narrowed at her daughter. "You were here the entire time."
Scarlett nodded.
Regina stepped closer to her. "My back was turned." Her gaze was piercing. "I've given you everything. Have. I. Not?"
"Yes, mother." Scarlett responded.
"Amongst everything I have given you… I have given you your values. Am I correct?" Regina was so close to her, Scarlett could feel her even rage radiating off of her person.
"Yes, mother."
"Then tell me why I have a strange feeling… that you've done something wrong?" Her tone was chilling.
Scarlett said nothing.
"Scarlett?" Regina's nails tapped together. "Answer me. Answer me carefully. Answer me… now."
Scarlett swallowed, hard. "I-"
"Straighten up." Regina commanded.
Scarlett did so, then speaking again. "I was in this room the entire time. I witnessed them… disappear."
"You know, Scarlett… you were born into this. You are a part, of this castle… a part of… all of this. And the same rules that apply to them… apply to you." Regina's statement intentionally sounded like more of a threat.
Scarlett suppressed a gulp. "Yes, mother."
Regina nodded, slowly… staring into her daughter's very soul. "Do you understand?"
"I do."
"So… while you stood in the middle of them… while my back was turned… why didn't you alert me?" Regina questioned. "Surely, if you were… at all alarmed, you would have notified me."
"I didn't want to interrupt you." Scarlett replied.
Regina had been pacing, slightly. Now, she stopped, dead in her small… bloody, tracks. "What are the rules?" She snapped.
"Blood, death, or serious danger." Scarlett recited, robotically.
"Blood… blood is an exception to part of your trained respect." Regina stated. "And our blood… vanished." Her eyes bored holes into her daughter. "Explain to me again, why I was not informed."
"It all happened so fast. Even if I had wished to… interrupt, by then it would have been to late." Scarlett explained.
"So fast that you hadn't the chance to scream?"
"Yes, mother." Scarlett said. "Or move. They all just… disappeared."
Disappeared. Disappeared. Yes; disappeared.
"I see." Regina caught the sight of a still profusely perspiring Pugsley in her peripheral vision.
And then she was reminded of everything.
"Ten minutes, Scarlett. Ten minutes, and the blood moon will rise." Regina took a deep breath.
If she dared to feast upon the boy alone… it could mean the end of everything she had built out of her bones… and blood.
"Now… we have to come up with a solution." She walked back up to Pugsley. "Or soon enough… we'll both be dead."
…..
Endless… gothic… porcelain corridors.
The point of entry to the Blood Castle having been the window… the wall which it was connected to, having taken seven minutes to scale.
Yet… here they were, Shadow, Morticia and Wednesday armed with garlic-laced knives… and Gomez, Esmeralda and Rosary armed with stakes.
They walked down the castle halls… paying little mind to the dark, porcelain floors or deep red walls. But rather, eyeing what hung on them.
Paintings… painted in blood. Old, and gothic… a blood painted portrait of a dead countess, a bleeding, blacker version of The Scream.
Or fantastic, dark statues or knights in shining armour pressed against the walls… but anything not painted in blood was stained with it.
Morticia walked as close to her husband as she could, her knife held tightly in her delicate hand.
"How are you doing, Tish?" Gomez asked his encantadora.
"I'm breathing." Morticia replied, meeting his eyes. "How are you doing?"
Gomez wore an empathetic expression and placed a reassuring hand on her back. "I'm anxious." He told her. "To say the least."
"I know you are, Gomez. As am I." Morticia said as they walked down another extensive corridor. "What's eating me alive is I don't know whether finding Pugsley will lessen my nerves or make it worse."
"Querida, I can assure you," Gomez faced her and gently gripped her shoulders. "No matter what we find, we will find our son… and we will save, our son."
Morticia sighed… relief at a time like this was something only her amour could bring her.
She held the hand that gripped her shoulder and kissed him. "I know. Thank you, mon cher."
"Thank you, cara mia." Gomez squeezed her, tightly un an embrace… unwilling to let her go.
He was worried… for his entire family. Especially for his son, and his encantadora… who was more than willing to fight Regina.
And that rattled his being with anxiety.
Morticia stared into his eyes, understanding. "All of us are going to be alright, mon amour. Including me." She smiled at him, and lovingly stroked his cheek. "I promise."
Gomez sighed in the relief that could only be brought by his black angel.
He gently took the hand that stroked his cheek, and kissed it. "Tish… if you could feel my heart right now, you would know that it is beating, with rapid, nervous intensity…"
Morticia nodded, placing a porcelain hand on his chest. "I can feel it." She said. "Try to stabilize it. I promise, mon cher… every one of us are going to be alright." She sighed. "Now, kiss me; and let's go save our son."
Gomez kissed her, passionately (and even that, was an understatement); and the two began walking down the corridor with the others once again.
"Got your stake, Wednesday?" Esmeralda asked her granddaughter, clutching her weapon tightly.
"No." Wednesday responded.
"What?" Máma stopped dead in her tracks.
"I have my knife."
Máma rolled her eyes and grumbled.
"You didn't ask that." Wednesday defended, her voice as monotone as ever.
"Are you sure you know where we're going, Ash?" Shadow questioned.
"No." Ash replied, honestly. "And shut up; I got us this far. I'm just… trying to find the room where they're keeping Pitney before it's too late."
"Pugsley." Rosary corrected.
Ash hadn't even noticed she had slipped up; she had been so focused on looking for where they were keeping Pitne- Pugsley… and possibly her younger sister.
"Whatever." She shook her head.
Despite their having little time, none of them dared propose the idea of dispersing and continuing on their separate ways for a while.
A couple of them (let alone, one of them) could not face Regina… and possibly others, alone. That… that would ensure the spilling of blood; and likely not Regina's.
Shadow sighed. "Well… if we make it out of this half-alive, we know one thing is for sure." He said. "We are definitely moving to the wastelands."
"Why are you bringing this up now?" Rosary asked, shooting Shadow a look as if to question where his common sense lied.
"Because, shit like this doesn't happen there." Shadow explained.
"No, it doesn't." Ash's tone was lathered with annoyance. "They have a variety of other problems."
"Oh, like it wasn't your idea to move there in the first place?" Shadow retorted.
"Not that I don't want to, but it wasn't." Ash told him. "It was Rosary's."
Shadow's eyes rolled. "Of course it was."
"Now shut up and stay focused or I'll be forced to waste Rosary's stake on you." Ash threatened… some part of her, somewhere… serious.
"Yes, ma'am." Shadow saluted her, mockingly. But he knew how important this was… so he kept quiet and continued to walk with the group down another hall.
And as they walked down flights of stairs… and down every hall they could find… Ash stopped.
She stopped, because she saw the large, grand, Victorian clock on the wall; its numbers in Roman numerals.
She swallowed, hard.
"What is it, Ash?" Morticia inquired, concealing the rising anxiety within her.
"We have to move, now." Ash began walking again, the group following her.
"Ash, what is it?" Morticia demanded to know.
"The blood moon." Ash replied, darkly. "It's going to rise… in five minutes."
…..
"Is everything alright? What's going on-"
"Shut up!" Regina yelled at the young boy, who seemed to feel it was alright to speak now that the other vampires had… vanished.
Pugsley gulped, and said nothing more.
"We have five minutes until the blood moon rises. Where the hell-" Regina paused… stiffening. Her ears opened up.
"Mother?" Scarlett walked up the five steps to stand next to her mother. "What is it-"
"Don't utter another word."Regina commanded.
Scarlett did as instructed, without hesitation.
Regina listened again… she listened, closely… intently… knowingly.
Knowingly.
She knew, yes, she knew… she knew what she was hearing.
Footfall. The footfall of no one she had anticipated, nor anyone whom inhabited the Blood Castle. The footfall… of intruders.
There was no escaping, no searching for the others… no blood, yet.
They had come for him.
She nodded, comprehending the limited time frame she had.
Interpreting her mother's nod as permission to speak, Scarlett did in fact do just that.
"Is it them?" She asked.
Regina took a deep breath. "Define them."
"The others?" Scarlett reformed her question.
Regina shook her head. "It…" She narrowed her eyes. Then, she whispered to herself. "The ends justify the means." She told herself. "Do what needs to be done." Regina lifted her hands, in the motion she always did when exiting a room via smoke-filled teleportation.
"Wait; what are you doing?" Scarlett's tone was obviously… afraid. "Mother, where are you going?"
And then Regina was gone… the smoke from her departure, all that remained.
"Mother!" Scarlett called.
But Regina could no longer hear her.
Walls smoothly constructed of black diamonds, with rubies engraved into them to look like swirled, gothic designs. A black… porcelain floor. A black, bloody, porcelain floor.
Shelves lining the walls. Glass shelves, overstocked with vials upon vials of blood. Blood, red but varying in shade. Crimson blood, deep red blood, slightly burgundy blood and some… almost black.
Almost.
A shelf set in the back wall contained needles, devices of injection, or devices of torture; they were stained with blood.
Regina was not interested, however, in the devices which she used to draw blood from the others on a night of crimson, lust-filled ecstasy.
No.
She was interested in the small, locked, black glass and porcelain box directly adjacent to her.
Wasting no time, she stared at the object… her eyes, unable to be pried from it even if they were to somehow end up brutally ripped from their sockets.
Instantaneously, the thing unlocked.
She reached into it, taking out a small, glass vial with a ruby stone atop it.
Carefully yet with no small element of grace, she opened the vial.
Contained therein, was her own… supply of blood. Black, blood.
Crimson smoked spilled out the sides of the container upon its opening.
And with little time to kill, she lifted the vial to her lips… and drank from it.
Her eyes glowed red upon doing so… and she stared into the glass, concentrating on the red radiance of her own eyes.
Not a moment after the glow faded, did she put the vial back in the box, lock it with those… eyes of hers, and vanish from the blood room.
"Mother?" Scarlett did not know whether to be relieved at the sight of her mother… or very, afraid.
Regina nodded once, in unceasingly unfazed greeting. "Scarlett-"
That was all Ms. Blood, had the chance to do.
….
Silver; sharp, shining… and laced with garlic.
Wood; sharp, rusting… and laced with vengeance.
Both weapons were drawn.
The group was floored.
It was just Scarlett, and Regina. No one else.
Neither fact of which presented an easier fight.
Perhaps… the facts brooded a harder one.
Scarlett refused to move.
She refused to blink.
She refused to look back at Pugsley.
She refused to meet the eyes of anyone in the room… especially the eyes of Mrs. Addams.
Mrs. Addams, who had been so kind to her despite her mother. Mrs. Addams, who had not said a bad word to or about the young girl throughout her stay at their home. Mrs. Addams, who suspected her, not of any wrongdoing until… until it was too late. Mrs. Addams, who- there would be blood.
Regina smirked, and coolly, stepped down the five porcelain stairs… taking her time, maintaining too much self-control… and she approached the group.
"Quite honestly, I'm surprised you didn't come sooner." Regina stated. She somehow managed to meet the eyes of everyone in the room. "Lay down your weapons."
"Not a chance." Rosary shook her head, drawing her stake and charging at her.
She froze. They all did.
With a wave of Regina's hands, every weapon in her view was ripped from their rageful, determined grasps and was flown at the back wall, becoming lodged into it… swords in stone, unable to be released from their porcelain prison by anyone other than she who had put them there. Swords in stone; even such a scenario as that, would have been easier to conquer.
"Mother!"
Morticia's eyes lifted up. And that was when she saw him.
Pugsley, strapped to the wall, suffering, afraid… her son.
Her son.
Rage- no. A mother's love taking over, Morticia took a deep breath and eyed Regina, hate burning in her dark orbs of mystery.
"You let him go, or so help me God, it won't be lack of blood you will fear, Regina, I can promise you. It will be the spilling of your own." Morticia threatened.
Regina took a couple of steps toward her. "Right, of course. And who's going to spill it?"
"His mother." Morticia growled.
Regina laughed and waved her hand, causing Morticia to be thrown across the room, and crashing her into the right wall.
Gomez took not a moment to rush over to her, more frightened than he had ever been before.
Esmeralda and Shadow made a move to charge at Regina… but it was the last move they were able to make.
They were stuck. Their legs… were frozen.
Esmeralda struggled against her hold. "Listen here, demon-bat! If you lay a hand on that boy or anyone in this family, you will suffer the consequences! You think you're powerful, do you? Well you just wait until I get my hands on you; I am going to make Rambo look like Little Mary Sunshine-"
Instantly, she shut up… upon hearing the bloodcurdling scream that ripped through the entire room.
All heads turned to where the noise originated, and their eyes widened.
There stood Ash, a garlic-laced knife (concealed from Regina's view, by the leather jacket she wore) pressed to Scarlett's throat.
"Where is she?" Ash's voice boomed.
Scarlett peeped, terrified.
Regina took three steps closer to the scene. Three… chillingly calm, steps.
"Where is who?" Regina's incredibly even voice asked.
"Where is Crimson?" Ash pressed the knife harder against Scarlett's throat, ready to end her existence with a mere stroke of her blade. "I swear to God, Regina, if you don't tell me where the hell she is; I'm taking your daughter just like you took her from me. Where is she?"
Regina's eyes never leaving Ash's. "Who is Crimson?"
"Oh, you bitch." Ash's tone was filled with disgusted hate. "Crimson! Crimson, the little girl you and your bloodthirsty hoard of savages kidnapped. I raised that girl, Regina. And you took her for one of your sick, cult rituals and that little girl was never seen again." The blade pressed to Scarlett's throat, pressed even harder against the young girl's pale, penetrable flesh.
Scarlett did not so much as make another peep; for fear that if she did, it would mean the end.
Regina remained controlled; and she paused, smiling.
Or… was it a smirk? No. It was a smile. But behind it, there was a flash. A flash, of… wickedness? Or was it just lust over abuse of power? Therefore, was that not by default, wickedness?
No. It was not a flash. At a mere glance, indeed it was. But, no… her smile… was, and had always been wicked.
She raised an eyebrow. "Crimson?" She took a moment to deliver her next set of words. "Her name matches the colour of her blood." Regina's stare was now cold… colder than the block of ice that sank the Titanic, and killed so many aboard it. "She was the first to die."
Hurt, rage, vengeance… words too small to describe the feelings that had bubbled up inside of Ash for so long… that had now risen to the surface at the conformation of her suspicion, and what had been her biggest fear.
Roughly, she released Scarlett (causing the child to fall, limply to the ground), and ran, full-force at Regina, clutching her knife.
Regina held up her hands, ready to use the skills she had acquired… from draining mortal blood… from the first sacrifice, to send Ash careening across the floor as well.
But she had, not, the opportunity to do so.
Ash tackled her, knocking her to the ground and holding herself on top of her.
Regina struggled, raising up her hands and grasping the knife, attempting to pry it from Ash's determined grip.
The two wrestled on the ground, fighting for control of the garlic-laced instrument of masochistic devastation. One acquiring the shining, silver object only for the thing to be snatched from their grasp by their enemy.
"You murdered her." Ash spat, groaning as she fought, tooth, nail, wounded heart, darkened soul and bruised body for the knife.
"That isn't all we did." Regina breathed, tugging at the knife. "We consumed her."
Ash half-groaned, half-screamed at Regina's words, and tried, desperately to win control of the knife.
She lost.
"But don't worry, dear." Regina climbed on top of her and held the knife to her throat. "Now, you can join her."
Just as Regina was about to end the existence of her violent, subdued adversary… she was grabbed from behind.
The knife was pried from her unwilling hand by Ash's angel, and she was thrown to the ground… the knife now sent sliding across it.
Regina, unable to rise to her feet just yet, lifted her hands and sent both Ash and Rosary careening across the room, hitting the left wall.
The knife had landed in the center of the room.
…
Lurch groaned in agreement.
He had been watering Hernus, Mrs. Addams's carnivorous plant on her and Mr. Addams bedside table, for the past ten minutes now.
Hernus didn't need much watering. Mostly, he just needed to be fed and kept out of sunlight.
And although Morticia adored taking care of her plants, Lurch knew she had… previous engagements, so he took over her beloved duties while she and the rest of the family- most of the rest of the family, were out trying to rescue Pugsley.
Thing shook from his place on the bedside table, anxiety consuming him entirely.
"I know, Thing." Lurch shook his head and finished watering Hernus and pointed at the plate of fresh bongo meat, groaning.
Thing tapped his fingers on the nightstand, in annoyance at Lurch's -although typical- lack of animation due to their circumstance.
Still, he handed him the bongo meat and signed.
"Thank you, Thing." Lurch stuck a fork into the meat and found the mouth of Mrs. Addams' plant, beginning to feed it in chunks.
Thing hopped about, obviously distressed.
"Careful." Lurch warned. "You're going to shake him." The cautionary statement uncontrollably came out as more of a slow moan.
Thing stopped, but signed once again.
Lurch fed Hernus another chunk of bongo meat as he spoke to Thing. "I don't know." He groaned. "I hope he's alright."
Thing fell flat, nervous.
Lurch gently patted Thing, nodding, reassuringly. "I'm sure they're alright."
….
The feet of Wednesday Addams were now glued to the floor, adjacent to those of Shadow's and her grandmother's.
Rosary, and her beloved hadn't moved since they had been thrown against the wall.
Morticia had. She had moved, and her eyes had fallen upon the knife.
Seeing her family… thinking of her little boy, she ran across the room and jumped, diving for the knife… along with Regina.
Morticia refused to let go of her opportunity to save her son, and she resisted Regina's hands trying to take the instrument from her.
And the soft, fluttering of fleeing bat wings… did fall upon deaf ears.
Morticia held the knife in her hand, and attempted to kick Regina away from her.
She had not, the chance.
Gomez ran toward them, ready to assist Morticia in grabbing the knife from the immortal embodiment of all he despised.
Noticing this instantly, Regina waved a hand and Gomez's feet froze in their place, as though they were now a part of the bloodstained floor.
Regina lifted her hands with little effort, and both she and Morticia rose up until they were sustained a mere several feet from the high ceiling.
"Amare a matris; a mother's love." Regina stared into Morticia's eyes. "A passage from Ebony Wood's, The Rose: The love of a mother is so strong, it can break the bonds of space and time… end it entirely, to ensure the safety of her flesh and blood. And even end lives, if those that hurt their children are not careful. A mother has eyes in the back of her head." She cocked her head. "It's a shame, really. It appears as though the back of your head has always been blind."
"Blind enough to know that you were a vindictive whore from the moment I met you?" Morticia retorted.
"Blind enough not to realize that our blood was mixing right under your nose." Regina scoffed. "What did you do, differently from the others, Morticia?" She asked.
Morticia was stoic externally, but was internally dumbfounded.
What the hell was she talking about?
"What?"
"You know what." Regina's even tone was edged with something else. Hurt? No. Anger? Quite possibly. Disgust? …yes. Her even tone was edged with disgust.
Morticia thought for a moment. And then she understood.
Regina was talking about… about Gomez.
"I loved him." Morticia told her.
"Not good enough!" Regina snapped. "I curse the day such a word was ever invented. It means nothing." She felt her throat begin to close with the sheer revulsion she felt, but she prevented it. "And neither do you. You were no different from the others. The only thing unique about you was that you agreed to marry him." She shook her head. "And he said he loved you."
"Because he did." Morticia stated, confidently. "And he does. And you can't stand it. That blood pact he signed meant nothing when he married me. But you hunted him down… hunted our son down, regardless. You did it because you despise him for not saying he loved you." She looked her, dead in the face. "But my husband never was a wonted liar."
Regina's rage was bubbling over. "A word of advice, dear. Don't be too quick to insult the woman who's going to consume your son."
Morticia shook her head and retreated inside herself.
"Bis tincto sanguine, et ossa contusa,
Castella et principes, foras mittetur:"
"What the hell are you doing?" Regina questioned, her voice laced with her rising anxiety.
"In aere, quod est in nobis oriri,"
"What's happening?" Regina demanded to know, now finding great difficulty in sustaining the both of them in the air. "What the hell are you doing?"
"Ad terram, ut nemo perit."
Morticia finished reciting, meeting Regina's eyes. "Bitch."
After she spoke that final word, both she and Regina fell out of their gravity-defying positions… and crashed to the ground, landing merely a few inches from one another.
Regina turned to Morticia, using her hands to pick herself up halfway. "What did you do?"
"Have you forgotten, dear?" Morticia asked, out of breath. "I'm a witch."
Regina took a deep breath in; a deep, enraged inhalation of the surrounding air. She lifted up herself, beginning to run… and then she dove after Morticia.
"Cara mia!"
Gomez was losing control of himself. Everything from the moment Pugsley had been taken, had boiled down to this… and there wasn't a damn thing he could do to throw Regina off of his wife and murder her with no remorse.
"Alright, Gomez; calm down!" Esmeralda held up a hand. "I- "
"How the hell am I supposed to calm down?" Gomez asked, struggling against the forced connection of his feet to the ground. He began to shake, nervously, speaking to himself as he did. "God, this is all my fault! My Tish, I can't lose her- get the hell off of her!" He screamed.
"I said, calm down!" Esmeralda glared, irately at him. "The more you struggle, the harder this is going to be."
"The harder what's going to be- Tish!" Gomez moved his legs, desperately but nothing came of this action.
The knife was out of Morticia's hands, and her high heels kicked Regina in the back of her legs, causing her to fall on top of her.
Her body in full survival mode, her mind focusing on her husband, her son… she reached out her hands and grabbed the knife, fighting with everything she had for control of the garlic-laced instrument.
"I'm trying to think of a counteracting spell!" Máma yelled to him, in a whisper. "Now, would you be quiet?"
As difficult, as gut-wrenching, heart-shattering and painstaking as the task did prove… for his encantadora, his black angel… for Morticia, Gomez kept quiet and attempted with all of his internal strength, not to struggle… not to fight, physically.
And Máma began to fish through her unsystematic, anxious, chaotic brain for a counteracting spell.
The knife was clutched tightly in Morticia's grasp.
Under Regina, she made attempts fueled by precarious haste and… amare a matris, to throw Regina off of her thrashing person.
"Having a bit of trouble, are you?" Regina breathed.
"I'm not the one who's out of control for the first time in her life." Morticia responded, kicking her and pulling the knife towards herself.
"I'm not alive, dear." Regina smirked, and attempted to take control of the knife.
"You're right, you're not." Morticia kicked her and moved to the side. "I'll make damn sure of that."
But her actions came to no avail.
"Máma!" Gomez's nerves were about to burst from his system and devour him whole.
"I know, I know!" Esmeralda's hands shook as she formed the right words.
"Tish!" Gomez couldn't help but allow his worry for his querida, and helplessness at his inability to do anything surmount his being. He turned to his mother-in-law. "Think, Máma!" He yelled.
"Don't shout at me!" Máma inhaled and exhaled, deeply… then she stiffened… and began to recite the counteracting spell.
"Nec enim effundet sanguinem et matres,
Aut timor, ut notarent sibi modo bene ill,
Si totum alium defecerit,"
Morticia wished to every power there was that she was strong enough to crawl out from under Regina and subdue her, driving the blade into her and ending her, ending her once and for all.
And mentally, she was.
Physically, she wasn't.
Regina knew it… she sensed the pain- the hurt, of her victim.
And if she hadn't hated Morticia so, she would have hedonistically enjoyed every part of it.
"Haec eo anno ut fiat:
Pedes non gelatum,
Contra!"
Esmeralda turned to Gomez. "Move, now!"
No further direction needed, Gomez lifted his feet, he- he lifted his feet.
Máma's spell had worked.
Wednesday and her grandmother rushed to where Pugsley was tied to the wall, one goal in mind: to release him. To release him, now.
Shadow darted over to Ash and Rosary, praying for their safety.
They had been out cold for so long…
Gomez ran to Morticia.
Regina smiled down at Morticia… her smile. "I think you enjoy fighting me." She said, her words slowly drawn out.
Morticia's eyes leveled. "The only thing I am going to enjoy, is watching you take your last breath."
"Oh, Tish…" Regina grabbed hold of the knife. "You won't be around to see it."
Morticia groaned, loudly and never left Regina's eyes as she fought for full control of the garlic-laced knife… for full control of the continuance of Regina's half-life.
And a silver instrument of masochistic devastation was ripped from pale, shaking hands.
Gomez ran to Morticia, faster than he had ever run before, prepared to tackle Regina from behind, hold her down and drive the knife straight into her… heart.
Her bleeding, blackened heart that ceased, to beat.
Gomez held Regina from behind.
She never made noise, for she was silent.
She didn't struggle, didn't fight him, didn't lunge at his wife… she didn't breathe.
Morticia had taken control of the garlic-laced knife, then having driven it straight into her heart… and now, her blood poured out of her.
Gomez knew… the instant his hands enclosed around the knife, and the blood… the queen's blood.
Still, Morticia stared into the faded burning irises and darkened pupils, of Regina Blood.
It was not the old man who vexed me. But his Evil Eye…
She was gone; truly deceased in this realm and every other.
And the moment Gomez Addams fully comprehended her death, he threw her off of Morticia.
"Cara mia!"
"Mon cher." Morticia took a relieved breath as her husband picked her up and held her in his arms.
"Mi reina, mi encantadora, my black angel…" Gomez kissed her, holding her against him as close as possible. "Tish, I…" He couldn't form any of his words properly. All he could do was kiss her and thank everything there was to thank that she was alright; that, and allow tears to well up in his eyes… a few of them escaping his being.
"It's alright, mon amour." Morticia caressed his cheek with her free hand (as the other was wrapped, tightly around his neck), and smiled at him. "It's alright. I'm alright." She nodded, reassuringly. "Máma and Wednesday have released Pugsley?" She asked.
Gomez nodded. "Yes, my darling. He should be rushing over here any moment now."
At this, tears formed in Morticia's own eyes. "He's alright. He's alright." She repeated those words what had to be ten times over. "Gomez, Pugsley is alright." She sealed his lips with hers, passionately.
"Yes, mi hermosa diosa. He is." Gomez breathed a sigh of relief. His tears couldn't stop falling. "I… when I saw you, there, and there wasn't anything I could do, I thought…" He shook his head, and pulled her closer, planting a kiss on her temple. "I thought I was going to lose you."
Morticia closed her eyes and sighed. Then, she looked back into her husband's. "Gomez, mon diable… it is impossible that you could ever lose me. Don't you remember? I could only ever live and die with you." She smiled.
Gomez took a deep breath in. "Cara mia… yes, yes, of course I do." He let out a small, short, bittersweet laugh. "How could I have been so foolish?"
"Mistakes; we all make them." Morticia's eyes burned with passion for him, and happiness that she could make him smile through his tears.
"My darling… to live without you, only that would be torture." Gomez said.
"A day alone…" Morticia slowly wrapped her other arm around his neck. "only that would be death."
Gomez kissed her, filled with passionate desire and loving relief.
He parted her lips to deeper delve into their shared kiss and pressed against her as much as he could.
Her held her close, worshipped her, all but made love to her… thankful beyond imagination for the safety and the existence of his black angel.
"What the hell happened?" Ash rubbed her head. Getting her bearings, she then immediately turned over to Rosary and shook her, violently. "Rosary? Angel, are you alright? Wake up; look at me, damn it!"
Rosary's eyes jolted open at the sudden start.
She met those of her beloved and sat up. "Did we win?" She asked, hopeful.
Ash nodded and embraced her, kissing her neck. "Yes, darling, we did."
Shadow cleared his throat.
Ash and Rosary looked up at him.
"He isn't dead!" Ash exclaimed, excitedly and jumped up, helping Rosary to her feet.
Shadow rolled his eyes. "I almost was!"
"Yea, but you're not!" Ash slapped his back. "And hell, so were we."
Rosary embraced Shadow, ignoring Ash's lack of sympathy. "I was worried about you, Shadow." She then added: "When I… wasn't, unconscious."
Shadow shook his head and used one free arm to extend it to Ash. He gestured with his head, for her to join them.
Ash's resistance wore off, and she ran into the arms of the people who had kept her sane all through her half-living years.
Morticia's feet were on the ground now, but her lips were still locked with her amour's.
And then she felt arms wrap around her waist.
Morticia's eyes jolted open and she looked down at… at her son.
"Pugsley!" She fell to her knees and looked him in his beautiful, big, brown eyes; embracing him. "Pugsley, you're alright! You're back, you're… oh, darling, I could hardly sleep." She placed a cold hand on his cheek. "Pugsley… Pugsley, my darling little demon." She kissed his cheek. "Did they hurt you?"
Pugsley smiled at her and shook his head. "Well, -" He then looked up and registered the presence of his father. "Father!"
Gomez laughed and bent down next to his wife, pulling his son into a tight hug. "Pugsley, your mother and I were worried sick."
Pugsley raised an eyebrow. "Isn't that a good thing?"
"Not in this context." Gomez looked into his son's eyes. "Everything your mother and I have built in this family would mean absolutely nothing without our children."
Pugsley appeared flabbergasted. "You have more kids?"
Gomez slapped his son's back. "Not yet."
"Gomez." Morticia smoothed down her hair.
Gomez winked at his son. "Believe me, I'm just as surprised as you are."
Pugsley laughed. "I think we're all surprised about that." He pulled both of his parents into a hug. "I'm just glad you guys are alright. And that, ya know, love exists."
Gomez raised an eyebrow. "What?"
"There was this session a couple hours ago where Regina verbally abused me and said that love was a fasad." Pugsley explained.
Morticia raised an eyebrow. "Do you mean façade, darling?"
"Oh, yea. Yea, that makes more sense." Pugsley decided. "Well, anyway, she said love wasn't real and that it wouldn't save me. I told her that wasn't true."
"And what did she say?" Gomez questioned.
"She mocked me and dug her nails into my cheek." Pugsley replied, nonchalantly.
"What?" Morticia squeezed his shoulders. She turned to her husband. "Is it possible for that woman to die once more? I will gladly drive a stake into her heart, alongside the knife."
Gomez placed an adoring hand on his wife's shoulder and rubbed out its tension. "I don't think that's possible, querida." He said, honestly.
Morticia leaned into him, and he wrapped his arm around her, holding her.
"Then that means she's really dead." Morticia took her husband's hand.
"That she is, cara mia." Gomez's lips met her forehead.
"Yea. Speaking of which;" Pugsley pointed to Regina's corpse. "who killed her?" He asked. "It was hard to tell because I was sort of watching Máma do that counter-spell thing."
Gomez helped his encantadora to her feet, his arm wrapped tightly around her.
He eyes her, proudly. "That would be your mother." Gomez replied, kissing his wife's hand. "Your gorgeous, wonderful, strong mother."
Pugsley smiled up at Morticia. "Thanks, mother." He hugged her.
Morticia ran her fingers through his hair and sighed. "Of course, darling."
Ash, Shadow and Rosary then joined the family next to Pugsley.
Ash nodded, in realization. "Ah… so that's a Pugsley."
Pugsley broke the hug he was now sharing with his grandmother and approached the trio. "Who are you?"
"I'm Rosary." Rosary smiled. "And this," She gestured to Shadow. "is Shadow. And this," she wrapped her arm around Ash's waist. "is Ash."
Ash waved.
Pugsley noticed their red eyes. "I didn't see you guys in that big crowd of vampires."
"No, you didn't." Shadow replied. "We wouldn't be caught dead there."
"Well-" Ash was about to contradict.
"Alright, that's different." Shadow held up a finger, knowing she would come back with how, due to the blood sacrifices within the Blood Castle, they very well could end up dead there. "Besides," He defended his previous statement. "We wouldn't be caught."
Ash cocked her head. "Touché."
"Just think of us as friends." Rosary told Pugsley.
"Okay." Pugsley shrugged. "Oh, Rosary?"
"Yes?"
"Are you alright?" Pugsley inquired. "There's a red mark on your arm. I think it's from the wall."
"Yes, Pugsley. I'm fine." Rosary responded, kindly. "And it is… from the wall."
"Mmhmm." Ash turned Rosary around and gripped her hips. "Pisses me off that that bitch marked you."
Rosary played with Ash's hair, absently. "Yes, because only you're allowed to do that."
Ash kissed her. "Damn right."
Máma gestured from her grandson to the trio. "You might want to thank them." She told Pugsley. "After all, we wouldn't have gotten her to save ya if they didn't show us to the castle."
Pugsley nodded and looked up at the three. "Thank you, Ash, Rosary and Shadow. Thanks a lot." He sighed and shook his head. "I wasn't too excited about the prospect of getting all the blood sucked out of me."
Everyone in the room smiled at the young boy- well… everyone except the one who never smiled: his elder sister.
Pugsley looked around the room.
It seemed so much larger now, without the lustfully ravenous hoard of vampires crowding the bloodstained ballroom and clawing at him, yearning for a taste of their soon-to-be meal.
It seemed so much larger now, without her.
"Scarlett." Pugsley finally said (a bit disheartened in his tone), figuring that at this point, they all were aware she was partly responsible for their predicament. "She's gone."
Morticia realized then, that her son was correct. "She is." She felt terrible for him. "I'm sorry, darling. I know you… weren't aware of her true colours."
Pugsley half-smiled, bitterly. "Yea. I mean the fact that there were colours should have tipped me off but, nope." He looked at his family, guiltily. "I'm sorry about everything."
"Now, Pugsley." Gomez began. "None of what has happened is your fault. You were in love. It isn't any fault of yours that their betrayal sent us… sent you, into this."
Pugsley sighed. "Thanks, father."
"I mean part of it is your fault." Wednesday adjusted the cuffs of her dress.
Pugsley squinted. "You're just mad that I stood up to you."
"Perhaps." Wednesday met his eyes. "But shouldn't this tell you something?"
"What?" Pugsley inquired.
"You were never meant to stand up to me."
"Oh." Saddened but seeing no flaws in Wednesday's -what he presumed to be quite true- statement, Pugsley's eyes became downcast, and they met his shoes.
"Tish… what more could we ask?" Gomez nuzzled Morticia's neck, affectionately.
Morticia thought for a moment. "Well, there is… one, thing."
"And what is that?" Gomez asked, moving his hands along her sides.
Morticia met his eyes, gazing into them both adoringly and intently. "To go home."
….
The over-puffed clouds we back to their dusty, blood red shade (an indication of early morn). The entire sky was stained with the blood that had recently been shed.
They cried, heavy tears… but not tears of mourning despite it being so. Rather, their tears were those of… of a great victory for the survivors, and of a small victory for the clouds whose atmospheric tears did fall over all they could reach.
"I had to try and devastate a red delicious because of you." Wednesday told her brother as the two walked with the rest of the group, out of… away from, the ruined Blood Castle.
"Sorry." Pugsley shrugged. "So, you missed me?" His tone was hopeful.
"No." Wednesday stated, coldly. "I missed being the one to instigate and draw-out your suffering. That isn't and will not be anyone else's job until you meet a girl someday."
"I did meet a girl." Pugsley said, a bit disheartened.
"That doesn't count." Wednesday contradicted. "I meant: until you meet an acceptable girl. One who isn't going to try and extract the blood from your veins without even having the decency to learn your middle name."
"That's fair." Pugsley decided, somewhat sadly. He paused and turned his head to face his sister as they walked. "She said love wouldn't save me."
"It didn't." Wednesday agreed (despite her hatred for the woman whom uttered the words). "We did."
"But you love me." Pugsley defended.
Wednesday cocked her head, indifferently. "Somewhat."
Pugsley's entire face brightened; as if he had just found out the dynamite he had put together was being used to fight wars in foreign countries. "I'll take it!"
Ash held Rosary's hand, her fingers locked with hers as they walked beside Shadow.
"I told you I wouldn't get hurt." Rosary laughed and kissed her beloved's hand.
"Mmm. Well, in a way, you did." Ash recalled the red mark on her arm. "And as upset as I am at that fact… none of it is directed at you."
Rosary smiled. "It better not be."
"It isn't." Ash assured her. "But you bet your ass, I'm reclaiming what's mine later."
Rosary giggled. "Of course."
"So… how long you been a witch?" Shadow asked Esmeralda, attempting to make conversation.
"Longer than you've been alive." Esmeralda replied, tersely.
Shadow highly doubted this claim. "I'm one hundred-twenty-five."
"Maybe not." Esmeralda sighed. She looked up at her son-in-law and daughter.
They were quite literally inseparable.
"Damn. The jaws of life couldn't rip those two apart." She remarked.
Then, she watched as Shadow's face contorted; he, appearing not to have cared for her statement.
Máma slapped Shadow in the back and laughed. "Well, son, if you're in the market for witches; I'm single and ready to mingle."
Shadow chuckled, uncomfortably. "Oh, really… that's, that's alright- "
"I mean, I'm a little busty but I always say: if you can't take thickness of the wood, don't ride the broom!" Máma shook her head.
"Oh, no… no, really." Shadow held up his hands. "Thank you."
"Ya sure?" Esmeralda asked him, jokingly. "This golden opportunity will never come again."
"I know." Shadow nodded, assuredly. "I just… we're not compatible."
Máma was beginning to get a kick out of riling Shadow up. "You're quite the charmer, aren't you?" She asked, sarcastically.
"Ha-ha, yes, well…" Shadow cleared his throat. "You… we…"
"I understand," Esmeralda teased and patted Shadow's shoulder. "I'm just too much for you."
Gomez carried his black angel (both he and she, stained with the queen's blood) out of the Blood Castle, and hadn't set her down since.
The Blood Castle. Now, it was understood just why it was called, the Blood Castle.
It was not because Regina Blood had built the foundation of the thing with her own blood, and bones. It was not because the two whom had the most power (it seemed) in the castle, had the last name of the very ruby liquid they lusted for.
Rather, it was because that was what it was. It was a castle, its inhabitants only sustenance being the very thing they had recently lost. It was because, upon entering that castle… blood was doomed or destined to be spilt, and often- always, there were casualties due to it.
Like today. Like all the days before.
And at this complete revelation (although none of the survivors dared look back), the Blood Castle appeared more life-filled… or less, than it had in over one hundred years.
"Cara mia…" Gomez's thumb ran over her back as he held her. "I can't stop thanking everything there is to thank for your safety."
Morticia buried her head in his neck, contentedly. "I can tell." She closed her eyes. "I'm just happy we all made it out alive." She said. "Bloodstained… but alive."
Gomez kissed her neck. "As am I, my darling." He shook his head. "You will never cease to amaze me, querida."
"All I did was fight for our son… for us." Morticia snuggled against him, warming herself in the coldness of the sky's morning tears.
"I know. But that isn't a mere thing to do, Tish. That is… you, are an enchantment. An enchantment… that I couldn't live without." Gomez leaned his head to the side a bit, nuzzling against her.
Morticia wrapped her arms around his neck, more-so than they already were. "No matter how many times I do…" She practically whispered, quoting her husband. "I feel like I can never hold you tight enough."
"You can." Gomez replied, adoringly. "You do." His lips met her temple, and he spoke against her soft, pale skin. "Don't worry, querida… I am not going anywhere."
"I know." A smile graced Morticia's features. "I just couldn't live without the feeling of you… against me or that feeling of safety that comes with your embrace. Or you… you, overall. I couldn't live without you, or die without you… I couldn't exist without you." She did not open her eyes, exhausted; but she did plant a light kiss on her amour's neck. "Thank you, mon amour."
"What did I do?" Gomez questioned.
"You've been mine… you are, mine." Morticia replied. "And you've gotten me through this. And you've never betrayed me, and… I'm only stable right now because you're holding me."
"Oh, Tish…" Gomez's lips locked with hers. "I will hold you for all eternity, my black angel."
Morticia began to hum Eternity, one of their favourite songs as she removed one of her arms from being snaked around his neck and allowed her nails to drum against his chest.
Gomez began to feel his Tish drift off in his arms. "And I'll only go to Heaven… if they let me bring you, too." He kissed her head, adoringly. "Ti amo, mi hermosa diosa."
Seeing this interaction… Wednesday's eyes smiled. Regina's downfall was a black parade she had indeed attended. Attended? Hell, she had done much better than attend. She had dawned her mock mourning attire, grabbed clanging, midnight-coloured symbols and marched through the streets… red rain pouring down her pale features. Her pale, revenged… victorious features.