Grey clouds covered the luminance of the full moon, while the wind howled through the trees of the cemetery. There was a bitter chill in the air which seeped through every deteriorating crack in the foundation of the Addams house. Gomez hoped that the frigid draft would rekindle Morticia's passionate demeanor, the chilly air had always made her feel delightfully miserable.
They had waited impatiently for the hour of the séance to arrive, and at last Mama announced that the moon was just right. Taking Morticia's hand, Gomez led her to the table that was set up in the conservatory. Mama waited silently, a sheer black veil covering her thin white hair and weathered face. As the couple took their seats, they placed their free hands into Mama's waiting calloused palms. A flash of lightning illuminated the candle lit room as their hands connected. When the clap of thunder finally followed, Mama's head had fallen forward.
Silence possessed the room as the temperature dropped making everyone's breath visible. Gomez's attention immediately went to his wife. His eyes were transfixed on her profile desperate to catch any shift in her statuesque features. Morticia glanced his way, the feeling of his stare burning through her intuition and forcing her to acknowledge his growing concern. Before they had a chance to lock eyes, Mama gasped as she violently sat up.
"Morticia!" the scream echoed throughout the room. The sound was unlike any other they had heard when communing with the dead. It was as if there were hundreds of voices rising and being used as one. Morticia squeezed Gomez's hand, needing to reassure herself that he was there beside her.
"Who are you, demon?" Gomez growled.
Mama's frame shook with diabolical laughter, before stopping suddenly to expose a toothy smile.
"Foolish man, it is not a demon with whom you speak."
"Then I repeat my question; Who are you?" Gomez was stern in his demand for answers, unfazed by the specter's attempt to frighten them.
Mama's head rolled from side to side, the smile still plastered on her face.
"Who are you?" Gomez shouted.
Mama stopped moving, her face lifting to stare at Gomez with her white unseeing eyes.
"I have many names. I take many shapes. For generations I have been a welcomed and honored guest in the Addams home."
"What do you want from me?" Morticia's level and elegant voice questioned.
Mama's head snapped towards Morticia, the smile now gone. The couple watched as the old woman's face contorted into a myriad of different expressions. Finally, it came to rest with a look of hopeless longing.
"Morticia" this time the voice was the same whisper that she had heard in her sleep. Morticia's blood froze, her pale skin began to turn blue, and her muscles became stiff. Desperate to escape these new sensations she tried to call for Gomez, but her voice was stifled. It was as if an icy hand was wrapped around her larynx, freezing the only air that could produce a sound.
"Beautiful Morticia" the whisper cooed.
"What do you want with my wife?"
Slowly, Mama turned back to Gomez, her head crooked to the side. They sat in silence waiting for an answer. Morticia's vision suddenly began to blur, her breath was becoming shallower with each inhalation. She couldn't feel her body, she tried to move the fingers that rested in her husband's embrace, but nothing seemed to be in her control.
"Till Death do you part."
Gomez was furious at threatening tone that mocked their precious marriage vows. He was ready to demand the spirit leave their home, but the séance was unexpectedly cut short. Morticia's hands slipped away from the others as she fell to the floor, breaking the sacred spirit circle. Gomez rushed to her side, as Mama groggily questioned what had happened.
"Tish," Gomez caressed her cheek, shocked at how cold she was. Getting no response, he moved to pick her up only to find that she was completely stiff, her body locked in its fallen position.
"What's wrong, Gomez?"
Tears brimmed Gomez's eyes as he faced his mother.
"What do I do?"
The question was barely audible, but it shattered Mama's heart with its utter hopelessness. She had no words of comfort for her distressed son as he pulled his rigid wife into his lap. She did the only thing she believed would help and pulled on the noose to call Lurch.