House Arrest
One thing Wednesday was forced to grow used to was how thick the water in the River Styx felt. It clung to everything— her hair, clothes, limbs— and paddling through the sluggish current was akin to swimming through tar.
Phantom hands grasped at her as she broke the surface, attempting to shake the blood from her eyes in order to see where she was going. The marble steps leading to the House stuck out like an undyed cloth and she dug her fingers into the smooth stone, pulling herself up onto the platform and out of the river. The Styx clung on, unwilling to let go of anything that falls into its waters and Wednesday pushed harder, managing to get one of her legs onto the stone. Eventually, it released her with a quiet pop! and nearly sent her sprawling out across the marble.
She shook herself off with a huff and stood.
Before her was the House, which stood tall and imposing, with high arched ceilings disappearing into the darkness. White marble lined the floor, broken up by squares of black in the middle creating a path that lead to her mother’s desk. It was tall, taller than Wednesday by a significant amount, carved from solid obsidian and inlaid with gold, silver, and blood-red rubies. However, the magnificent craftsmanship was hidden behind the towering stacks of paper, tomes, scrolls, and ink-stained quills that littered the desk that only seemed to grow as time wore on.
Behind the desk and high-backed chair was a mural, depicting Morticia in her prime, wielding Varatha and banishing the Titans into the furthest depths of Tartarus. But her prime was long gone and she now sat practically chained to her desk trying desperately to make a dent in her paperwork.
Beside her, resting comfortably on the floor, was Thing. Its giant fingers periodically tapped on the marbled ground, sending gentle tremors throughout the house and occasionally rearing up onto its stump in order to tug at one of the many drapes that lined the high ceiling, casting odd and imposing shadows in the flickering torchlight.
It was her home.
It was her prison.
Wednesday forced her feet to move, half-heartedly wringing out her braids as she passed through the various shades milling about the house. Her limbs ached with the aftermath of death and her pride stung even more since Bianca was the one to send her back to the beginning.
“Damn that Fury!” she growled, loud enough to startle Eugene awake. She watched as he flailed about, trying to catch his quill and clipboard and wipe the sleep from his eyes before anyone saw.
“Hiya, Weds!” he said, smiling brightly at her before scribbling something onto his list. Wednesday narrowed her eyes.
“Don’t call me that,” she replied. Eugene chuckled nervously, running a hand through his unruly curls and succeeding in making them stick up in every direction.
“So Bianca got you again, did she?” he asked. Wednesday grunted in acknowledgment. “That must be tough. Have you considered stabbing her before she stabs you?”
Wednesday stared at him, unblinkingly. “No,” she said flatly. “It never crossed my mind.”
Eugene laughed and clapped his hands. “Well, I’ve been told I occasionally give good advice,” he replied, waving his clipboard around. Wednesday caught a glimpse of what was written on the paper and wrinkled her nose.
WEDS: 0
BIA: 14 15
It was just rubbing salt into the wound at this point, and not in a fun way.
“The best,” she said. “Next time I face her, I’ll be sure to move.”
“That’s the spirit!” Eugene exclaimed, and if possible, his grin widened even further. “She can’t keep up her winning streak forever.”
“You’re right.” Wednesday met his eyes and took a step closer, looming over him. “And when I defeat her,” she said, lacing every word with the anger that rolled through her stomach. “I will make her death so painful, so humiliating, that she will remember it for the rest of her miserable existence and think twice before facing me in battle.”
Eugene’s face paled dramatically and she felt a sliver of satisfaction snake up her spine as she turned around and continued to her room.
“I— I believe in you!” Eugene called after, voice wobbly.
Wednesday allowed her lips to curl up into a smirk. She passed her mother’s desk quickly, hoping to avoid conversation with the woman.
“Wednesday,” Morticia called as if she had read Wednesday’s mind. “Might I have a word?”
Wednesday stopped midstep and turned around. Her chiton was starting to dry and chafe against her skin.
“What?” she asked.
Morticia sighed, removing her spectacles and pinching the bridge of her nose. “What will it take for you to give up this fruitless endeavor?”
“As I have said, time and time again,” Wednesday replied. “Let me go freely. Why go through all this effort to keep me here if you have nothing to hide?”
Morticia shot her a glare, black eyes burning with a distant, smoldering flame. “You are playing with something far beyond your understanding, child.” Her voice boomed across the hall and nearly sent Wednesday stumbling back at the force of it. “Stop your recklessness now before you doom us all.”
Wednesday raised her chin in defiance and met her mother’s glare. “The more you tell me no, the more determined I become. I will have my answers, no matter the cost.”
Morticia shut her eyes, visibly holding back a scream of frustration. “Wednesday—”
Out of the corner of her eye, she caught a glimpse of a spear moving and that was all the invitation she needed to leave her mother to her never-ending paperwork and shades.
“Until next time,” Wednesday said, already walking away. “However much I dread it.”
She stopped momentarily as a giant finger extended before her. She gave Thing a gentle pat and whispered ‘hello’ before continuing on into the West Wing. Harsh marble turned to lush carpet and Wednesday could not help but let her gaze stray to the balcony overlooking the Styx.
It was empty.
Not that she was expecting to see anyone standing there. The less attachment she had to this gods forsaken place, the better since she was getting out and never looking back. Still, her chest rang hollow the more she stared.
“She’s not here,” Yoko said, voice lilting in slight amusement.
Wednesday tore her eyes away from the spot and narrowed her eyes at the vampire who was little ways away, casually leaning on her spear.
“I don’t remember asking,” she replied stiffly.
Yoko laughed and beckoned her over with a jerk of her head. “So, how’s my little protégé doing?” she asked, once Wednesday started moving. “Bianca get you again?”
“It’s like a plague, these rumors,” Wednesday muttered, neatly avoiding a cluster of Shades and coming to a stop in front of her trainer. “But yes, she did, if you must know.”
Yoko hummed and fished something out of her robes. It was a book about the size of her palm and twice as thick.
“I think this might be able to help you,” she said, holding it out. Wednesday took it and began to thumb through the pages, doing her best not to leave smears of blood on the clean pages. “It’s a codex I started back when—” Yoko cut herself off with an awkward cough and a shake of her head. “It’s not done yet but I think the more you fight the more information you'll be able to collect.”
Wednesday shut the book with a sharp snap and frowned. “Why would you give me an incomplete one?”
Yoko dramatically raised her spear and looked into the distance, the very picture of the mighty hero she had been back in her glory days. “Because, my naive trainee, if I just handed you all the information, where would your chance for learning be? We must all do our due diligence in the pursuit of knowledge.”
Wednesday merely raised a brow and Yoko dropped her hand with a sigh.
“I got stuck here before I could finish the entries,” she admitted.
Wednesday nodded. “That’s acceptable.” She tucked the book into her now empty coin purse and grimaced as her chiton cracked with each move.
She should really change before going out again.
“Good luck out there,” Yoko said, all traces of laughter gone from her face. “If anyone can leave, it’s you. And if you see…” She paused once more and shook her head again.
“See what?” Wednesday asked.
“Not important,” Yoko replied. “Just keep fighting.” Wednesday narrowed her eyes and Yoko smiled once more, pearly white fangs on full display. “Catch a fish for me, will you?”
Wednesday nodded and left, casting one last glance at the empty balcony before heading to her room.
She passed by Thing, who waved a finger, Eugene, who briefly startled awake before falling back asleep once more, and Morticia, who did not even bother to look up, and made it peacefully to the East wing. She briefly thought of stopping by the lounge for a bite to eat but remembered that Thing had torn it apart a while back and no one had gotten around to fixing it. A crudely painted sign that read ‘closed for repairs’ was nailed to the boarded-up door. Through the gaps, she could see overturned tables, smashed bottles, ripped wallpaper, and spiderweb cracks spreading across the walls.
“Thing was very upset when we found you gone,” Larissa said. Wednesday glanced to the side and saw her, looming in the corner, partially encased in shadows.
“I’m not sorry,” Wednesday replied. Larissa shrugged and crossed her arms, leveling Wednesday with a scrutinizing look.
“I know,” she replied. “You’re breaking your mother’s heart.”
“You’re helping,” Wednesday shot back. “Besides, she doesn’t even have a heart to break.”
The goddess smiled merely a wry twist of her lips. “There are many things you do not know child,” she said. “I help where I can but even my influence is limited.”
“That’s exactly what she said,” Wednesday grumbled. “How am I to know things if no one will tell me anything.”
Larissa glanced to the side briefly. “I trust you met your cousin?” she asked instead of answering. Wednesday nodded. “And her help was…?”
“… appreciated,” Wednesday said, grudgingly.
Larissa smiled once more. “Good. The Olympians think you are to join them on their mountain once you escape.”
“So I heard,” she replied.
“Do not let them think any differently,” Larissa said. “They do not take kindly to deception.”
Wednesday smirked. “I know.” She moved to enter her room when she remembered the pouch strapped to her belt.
“I ran into Uncle Fester on my journey and he had this for sale.” She opened the pouch and let Larissa see the sparkling purple powder.
“Oh yes,” Larissa said, her eyes gleaming with recognition. “Remnants of Darkness. If you sprinkle it onto yourself, it strengthens your power.”
Wednesday looked at the glittering powder then back at Larissa. Wordlessly, she lifted the pouch and dumped it over her head. She squeezed her eyes shut and felt a shudder down her spine and in her mind's eye saw a flickering black flame grow brighter. She gasped and opened her eyes. Her hair, her clothes, her skin, everything now glimmered with the dust and she evenly met Larissa’s shocked stare.
“Lurch is going to be very upset,” Larissa finally said, eying the purple dust that now scattered the floor. Wednesday attempted to shake it off her arms to no avail and grunted in annoyance.
“He’s not the only one,” she replied. “Is this glitter permanent?”
“No, it should wash off,” Larissa said, still staring at her like she had grown a second head.
A loud groan cut through the House, bouncing off the walls into a fading echo, and interrupting her response. Wednesday turned to see Lurch, holding a bucket and a mop, staring despondently at the, now dried and sticky, puddle of blood near Eugene, who was trying his best to placate him.
Wednesday slipped inside her room before Lurch could turn around and hurl a mop at her in retaliation for her mess. He had quite the aim when he put his mind to it.
"Best of luck out there," Larissa said from the doorway. Wednesday brushed at her arms once more and strode through the archway towards Pugsley.
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