A candle burned, its wick sparking as fire caught the impurities within, its wax shape slick and alive as melted into a stub. As the white wax ran, its substance conforming to the cracks and lines in the wooden floor its flame as the small pinprick of light guttered and popped.
White smoke, invisible in the near absolute dark, wafted from the wick, the last sigh of a once living flame.
A scratch of match on matchbox, and the hissing sound of chemicals burning. Red tipped fire, a wooden match roared into life, illuminating the face of its wielder before it was touched to a new tall candle that hissed and spat and burned green flame that softened gleaming dark crimson wax.
Wax soon began to drip again, but this time the hot runny solution was caught in a small bowl.
"It's not hot enough." A voice murmured, dark eyes intent on the melted and rapidly hardening wax. A gloved held out the metal bowl over the green flame, it began to boil, sluggish bubbles growing and popping with a lethargic intensity, stirring the mixture with a thermometer. Good, it was hot enough to leave burns, but not enough for infection.
Taking the bowl gingerly in hand to avoid burning fingers, grabbing the red candle in the other, a black clad figure lifted itself off of the floor and glided through the dark to the shining metal operating table in the center of the room. The light of a harvest moon shone pale orange through the unfettered window, illuminating the figure bound with his hands above his head and his knees by a belt to the strong steel table.
His eyes were closed, and he was breathing gently, unaware of his predicament. The wraith allowed itself a small second to scrutinize his face, calculating every inch of his profile. His hair wasn't dyed obscene colors, as it usually was, but was a normal black which looked slightly out of place on him.
His face and naked torso was light, but browned from hanging out in the Addams cemetery. A long scar, white and faded, curved from his belly around underneath him, out of sight. Under his closed eyelids, it knew a pair of sharp brown eyes flickered back and forth in the throes of a dream.
A white strip of linen served as a gag, muffling the slight whistle he made when he slept.
The face of the shadow was thrown into orange light, illuminating the horrific disfigured face of a demon from hell that drew a ladle from within its black hide. Dipping it carefully into the wax and, holding its breath, it drizzled the concoction onto Nathanial O'Killarny's vulnerable skin.
The boy snapped awake, his eyes bugging comically as he yelped into his gag. He looked around wildly, his eyes unfocused as he found the source of his pain. Pure undiluted terror filled his eyes as he started to struggle, screaming meaningless words that were nothing more that muffled moans through his gag.
"Mortal," the demon hissed, its fangs and roughened, disgusting protrusions unmoving as sound hissed from its maw. "Do you know why I'm here?" Fire flickered from its dark eye sockets.
Nathanial was crying now, tears running out of his eyes like faucets as he screamed with undiluted terror at the demon who he was sure was going to eat him and devour his soul for good measure.
"I am here…to scare the shit out of you!" The demon lunged, and Nathanial fell back against the table, cowering in absolute fear. Then his eyes widened, and narrowed.
"'edsd'y!" he growled through his gag, looking up at the smirking demon.
"Took you long enough." Wednesday said as she doffed the long trailing black robes and hideous mask she had been wearing. "You are such a girl."
Nathanial began what she knew was a tirade of swear words (his left eye always ticked a little) and Wednesday was content to let him tire himself out against the gag. Wednesday rolled her eyes and dumped the rest of the bowl onto his crotch, the heat seeping through the thing summer pajamas. Nathanial swore and jerked on the table sliding left to right, trying to dislodge the searing wax.
"Priceless." Wednesday muttered, before slipping a knife through his bindings, allowing Nathanial to roll onto the floor.
"What the hell Wednesday!" Nathanial said as his ripped away the gag, peeling off the hardening wax that took bits of skin with it. "You gave me second degree burns!"
Wednesday shrugged, her dark eyes glittering as she smirked at Nathanial's abused and rumpled features. "Did I really? That's too bad; I was going for the third degree."
"How did you get into my house?" Nathanial demanded, ignoring Wednesday's snarky smile.
Wednesday snorted, and waved his query off. "I made a copy of your house key."
"You- you did what?" Nathanial demanded his face red in indignation.
"You'd think you'd be used to me violating your privacy by now." The Addams girl said with a raised eyebrow. "Besides, it was my last chance to attempt to maim you before I get shipped off to summer camp." Wednesday spat the word out with venom, scrunching her face slightly at the thought.
"It can't be that bad." Nathanial muttered, rubbing the back of his neck as he hopped onto the metal surgery table, glancing at the half crusted wax and…was that blood? "My mom sends me to this summer camp every year for kids from her high society. It's all full of blonde cheerleaders and white supremacists."
Wednesday's eyes flashed. "Racists?" she said coldly.
Nathanial nodded. "I think it's why my Mom divorced my Dad, she couldn't handle the prejudice against a mixed racial relationship."
Wednesday frowned. "Then why-"
"Why am I so white?" Nathanial asked lightly.
Wednesday nodded wordlessly, sensing the tightness around his fake smile and the stress lines around his eyes belayed his distress at her question.
"Genetics, I guess. My Dad must have had the recessive gene in his system and so out I came, white as my Mom."
Wednesday scowled. She hated racists. After all, how many people took a look at a disfigured or foreign Addams and immediately turn them out? She at least hated everyone equally, with the exception being her own family of course.
And Nathanial, but he amused her more than anything so he didn't really count.
"So…why don't you tell your parents you don't want to go?" Nathanial mumbled, his cheeks flushed as he broke the awkward silence. "They seem pretty liberal to me, I thought they didn't make you do things you don't like."
Wednesday snorted. "Debbie, our new Nanny, decided to tell our parents what we really wanted." She growled, her pale fingers clenching. "She told Father and Mother that we were too scared to ask to go to summer camp because they thought they would disapprove of it and be angry." Wednesday tossed her braids in an impatient manner. "So now they won't take no for an answer and are shipping me off."
"So they don't believe you?" Nathanial asked; head cocked in confusion. "I thought untrustworthiness was a common theme in teenagers."
Wednesday pursed her lips. "I have never lied to my parents." She said tersely. "I may have omitted and led them to pin the blame on my brother- brothers." She corrected, remembering the recent birth of her youngest brother Pubert, who refused to die. "But I have never given them a boldfaced lie. Everyone else, including Uncle Fester and Grandma, is fair game though."
"So…everything you told me could be a lie?"
Wednesday smirked and leaned back onto the wall. "Maybe. In any case, they wont believe me. Perhaps they are suffering BSS."
Nathanial blinked. "BSS?"
"Baby Shock Syndrome."
After sending her an incredulous look that was met with a deadpan one, Nathanial sighed and glanced out the window at the night sky which was beginning to lighten. "I better go. It's been fun." He smiled, wincing as he rubbed the angry red mark on his chest. "I guess I'll see you in…a month?"
Wednesday nodded. It seemed their penitentiary- ahem- summer camps went on at the same time.
Nathanial nodded and let himself out of the window, into the black branches of the dead oak tree that leaned against the side of the house.
A twinge of sadness entered Wednesday's heart, but she scowled and quickly shoved it away. There was no way she would admit; even to herself that she was missing Nathanial. Even if this month was hell, at least it was away from him.
0o0o0o0o0
"No way."
"Now way in hell."
Nathanial and Wednesday Addams stared at each other in shock, ignoring the blondes that milled around them in the parking lot of Camp Chippawa.
"Y-you're going to camp here?" Nathanial stammered, his ears turning bright red (As they always did when he was angry, shocked, or flustered).
Wednesday's shock turned into a scowl. "Is that a problem?" She hissed menacingly.
"N-no! Not at all!" Nathanial stuttered, rubbing his turquoise hair. He must have dyed it before he left. "I was just surprised, that's all."
Wednesday's eyes narrowed. "Yeah, sure…"
Inwardly, Wednesday felt a little relief. She knew as soon as she saw the preppy, happy faces of her fellow campers that a month would be far too long. At least now she had someone she knew, and could abuse and take it like the guinea pig he was.
"Nathanial m'boy!" Gomez bounded up to Nathanial with his usual exuberance, Morticia and Pugsley following behind at a more sedate pace. "What are you doing here?"
Nathanial shrugged. "My parents have been forcing me to go here since I was eight."
"At least you'll have someone to help you poison the other children." Morticia said, a sneer of distaste crossing her face as she saw a young girl in a pink cardigan walk past.
Wordlessly, Wednesday took out her bottle of arsenic, uncorking it before taking a bracing gulp. Turning to Nathanial, she held it out for him.
"This'll probably kill me, won't it?" The teenager asked, eying the skull and crossbones label.
"It's diluted." Wednesday offered, wiping her lips with a black handkerchief. "Mother won't let me drink un-watered arsenic until I'm eighteen."
Nathanial gave her a sideways glance, but when he looked up to see Amanda Buckman making her way towards them with a liposuction smile on her face, he took a long gulp of the concoction.
"Hm..." he muttered "Tastes like bitter almonds."