Biting at his cheeks, the freezing air taunted his worried mind. Gomez did not know how long Morticia had been exposed to the elements, but her body was telling him it had been too long. She had been stiff when he picked her up off the damp ground. Heavy, her limbs were like blocks of ice as he wrapped his arms under her thighs and around her waist. Her thin silk nightgown offered no warmth, and his robe was no help with the satin ice still covering her body. Fighting to stay conscious, Morticia's soft voice would emerge bearing his name. He tried to keep talking to her despite his urgency to get her into the house. A string of romantic declarations spewed out of him as easily as breathing, while he pressed her shaking form harder against him.

As soon as he crossed the threshold with his precious cargo, his instinct was to shout for mama, but he restrained himself. He did not want to wake the entire household and subsequently have them all crowd his wife. Gently, he set Morticia down in her wicker chair before rushing to start a fire. As the flames began to grow in the fireplace, he pulled the fainting couch to sit directly in front of the blaze. When he was ready to move Morticia, he realized her nightgown was beginning to thaw. Morticia's bare feet and the surrounding carpet were completely soaked. Not wanting to waste another minute, Gomez rushed to her side. He pulled off his robe, exposing her slightly blue flesh.

"Cara Mia, we need to get you out of this nightgown." He whispered, trying to cover the anxiety that was suffocating him. She nodded, her eyes struggling to stay open long enough to help him. Tenderly, he maneuvered her body, his heart sinking at the difference he felt in her skin. Supporting her against his body, he released her from her wet prison, letting the black silk fall in a heap on the floor. Her newfound nakedness caused her body to shake more violently. Desperate to ease her tremors, Gomez removed his pajamas and used them to dress Morticia. Lifting her in his arms, he carried her to the couch by the fire. When he was satisfied that she was safe, he covered himself with his damp robe and ran to get mama.

Closing in defeat, Morticia could no longer fight unconsciousness. Without Gomez's presence her mind once again fell victim to a myriad of sensations. Gomez had only left her side for a few minutes, but her vulnerability made each second dangerous.

Gomez and Mama rushed into the room, together creating a tornado of chaotic anxiety. As he hurried to the couch where he left Morticia, his heart stopped its reassuring beating. Empty, the fainting couch was illuminated by the warm yellow light cast by the thriving flames. A few feet from the fire, his pajama bottoms lay in a heap on the floor. Without a word, he ran out to the front door. It was wide open, confirming his worst fears.

"Morticia!" he yelled into the night, as his feet crashed over the frost covered ground. Mama was not far behind him, calling after him.

In the distance he could make out the movement of a small dark figure. His lungs burned as he forced them to inhale the icy air so he could chase after the figure. As he got closer, he realized something was terribly wrong about the image before him. His wife was a graceful creature with a sensual yet subtle walk, as if every motion was a part of an elaborate dance. Before him however, her figure looked jerked about. There was no rhythm to the movement, she stumbled and dragged herself at an alarmingly quick pace. With each step he took, he could see more of the grotesque image.

Pale feet were not landing flat on the ground, instead stepping on her own toes or relying on the side of her feet. Every other step her ankle would twist and she would begin to fall, yet she kept going. Her bare legs were a stark contrast to the darkness around her, as they clumsily propelled her forward. Dark hair spilled over her limp head, which bobbed on her neck with each uneven step.

He called her name again, but she was undisturbed. Gomez was slowing down, headstones becoming an unseen obstacle to his pursuit. Suddenly, Morticia was struck down. A crooked headstone had caught her leg, creating a large gash from above her ankle down her foot. Although worried, Gomez was glad her momentum was stopped. He rushed to catch up to her, calling out loving reassurances that he was almost there.

Morticia stood, her head falling back as she did. A sense of dread overwhelmed Gomez as he watched her continue on, her injured leg wobbling beneath her weight as blood stained the ground. He was almost close enough to grab her when her upper body contorted. Her arms hung down, as her chest twisted towards him while her hips remained in place. Appalled and frightened by the image, Gomez could not move only stare. Then with a series of sickening snaps, her body collapsed.

Before her head could hit the ground, Gomez caught her in his arms. Shallow, her breath was nothing more than a faint rasp that was escaping through her slightly parted lips. He sat on the cold ground with his half naked wife in his lap, when Mama finally caught up to him.

"Gomez.." she started to question, but was silenced by the agony displayed on his face.

"What is happening, Mama?" he whispered as he examined Morticia's bleeding wound, and swelling ankles. Mama was silent, having no answer nor a word of comfort. Silently she watched as he turned his attention from Morticia's injuries to her sunken face. As he cried out in anguish and frustration, Mama looked away unable to watch her son's suffering. That's when she realized where they were.

"Gomez, look where we are."

Glancing around, he started taking note of their surroundings. In disbelief, he stared at Mama to see her give a bewildered nod. Morticia had collapsed on the plot of soil that was meant to cover her decaying body as it rotted in the cold embrace of the dark ground.

"She led you to her grave." Mama whispered.