Yet another chapter - I'm on a writing-roll. We'll see how long it holds up.

Joel wrestles with his demons.

Next chapter in the works, and its a biggie, so hang in there.

Please Review!

Enjoy~TLD

Part Seventeen: Laying Low and Lower


The phone rang. Once. Twice.

"Addams' residence. This is Mrs. Addams speaking."

Joel momentarily pondered how Morticia's languid voice was more suited for the bedroom than for answering the phone, before answering in a rush.

"Mrs. Addams, it's Joel. I just wanted to check – Has Wednesday gotten home yet?" Joel held his breath, fearing the implications if her answer was no.

"Yes," Morticia said. Joel let out his breath in a whoosh. "Would you like to speak to her?" Morticia's voice asked.

Joel paused for a moment, and then answered, "Um, no, that's ok. Thanks Mrs. Addams."

He moved to hang up the phone, but Morticia's voice stopped him. "Joel?"

"Yes, Mrs. Addams?" Joel prompted.

"Are you alright?"

Joel swallowed. "Um, yea. Thanks."

"Would you like me to send Lurch to pick you up? You are welcome to stay here," Morticia continued, her cool, seductive voice warming slightly into motherly concern.

Joel twitched anxiously. The offer was tempting – a safe, cool, dark place to lay low – but the thought of being so close to so many people he cared about in his current state made him nauseated. The hunter twitched perilously close to the surface. The taste of human blood lingered on the back of Joel's tongue, and a hunger that he had meticulously squelched over the past few years was now bubbling menacingly in his stomach.

"Thanks Mrs. Addams, but I think I'm gonna lay low at my place for a bit," Joel attempted nonchalance. "Maybe, I'll stop by later tonight," the hunter twitched within, "or something," Joel added hastily.

"Very well. Goodbye, Joel," Morticia added, a knowing tone coloring her voice.

"Bye," the word choked in Joel's throat. He hung up before she could continue the conversation.

He was bloodstained, half-naked, the sun was moments from rising, and he was maybe five miles from his motel. It wasn't like he could call a cab in his current state. At least he'd had his phone and wallet in his jeans.

He longed for his bike. Damn. He almost moaned aloud. He loved that bike.

He sat down, hard, on a tree stump in the forest and cradled his head in his hands. Think, he commanded himself. He found his thoughts were clouded by a repeated litany of Shit. I'm fucked. He forced himself to keep thinking despite the negativity.

In the end, the best plan he could come up with was to run through the woods in the general direction of town – and his motel – and hope he found some shelter before true dawn. He stood, skeptically, and ran.

Morticia felt eyes on her back as she hung up the phone. Without turning she said, "He's alright."

When she heard no reply, she began to turn, "He's-"

But when she turned, Wednesday was already gone.

In the end, he didn't make it in time.

Luckily, the forest bordered the local reservoir, and, while the foliage wasn't thick enough to provide deep shade in broad daylight, a nearby runoff drain was plenty big enough, dark enough, and adequately dry enough for Joel to hole up a few meters within its depths.

Curled up like a rat, his shoes and jeans getting drenched in the small river of storm water draining down the pipe, Joel laid his head down on his knees, drowning in self-pity, self-loathing, fear, anger, and a sickness so deep that he struggled every second from succumbing to the temptation to throw himself out into the sunlight and ending his suffering.

If he hadn't known - from experience - that the suffering waiting for him after death was immeasurably worse than anything on earth, he likely would have lost the battle of will.

But as it was, he struggled to find a reason to let the monster live, to find a way that he could still be Joel despite the evidence to contrary, to find a way that he could ever have the girl he loved when he was so irreparably damaged, distorted, and twisted, that he was just as likely to kill her as love her.

What the Hell am I? he thought, disgusted. Over the past few years, he'd been sure he'd gained control over the monster, but now he wasn't sure where the monster ended and where Joel began.

I should leave. It was the safest way. The noblest. There was just one problem with it.

Lilith.

She wouldn't leave. She wouldn't let Wednesday's insult stand.

She'll just have to die then, Joel thought.

Then a small, sarcastic voice in his head bit back; Sure, you've been doing a bang-up job of that so far. What was tonight? Twice you've almost bitten the dust?

Joel dropped his head back into his knees, momentarily too overcome with depression and disgust to form a coherent thought.

It was then that she came to him. Her transparent form sat down beside him in the muck.

"Joel, Joel," her soft voice chided.

Joel didn't even lift his head.

"Lilith," he croaked.

"Look at you, my darling, huddling in a sewer drain like a rat? What has become of you?" her voice was soft, compelling.

"I did not make you for this. You should be a prince, a king. Women will fall at your feet. You're beautiful, Joel. Strong. Compelling. Why should you rot away like this? Over some silly girl? Tsk. Tsk." Lilith continued.

"She will fade, Joel. They are but flowers that bloom in the morning and fade by nightfall. We are forever. Do not be short-sighted. You are much too clever for that."

The silence lengthened.

"It does not do to cling to the past." Lilith continued. "The girl you loved is already gone. Forget your petty grudge and rejoin us. Soon the sands of time will turn and we shall be the only family you have left."

Lilith let the impact of her words sink in, before adding, "Of course… it doesn't have to go that way…"

Joel's head shot up. His eyes, wild with fury, caught Lilith's, but instead, her eyes were laughing with satisfaction.

She shot him a knowing smile, "So, you've already considered the possibility." She smiled a wide, crocodile smile. "Of course you did, a clever lad such as yourself."

The fury dropped out of Joel's eyes and they returned to their deadened glaze. He dropped his head back into his knees.

"I won't. I won't damn her as you did me," he answered in deadened monotone, his voice muffled by his jeans.

Lilith's voice was subtly amused and dripping with sarcasm when she answered, "Well then, do tell me, Joel, what's your plan?"

Joel didn't answer.