𝐰𝐨𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 // 𝐰𝐞𝐝𝐧𝐞𝐬𝐝𝐚𝐲𝐱𝐭𝐲𝐥𝐞𝐫

𝐚 𝐧𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐭𝐨 𝐝𝐢𝐬𝐦𝐞𝐦𝐛𝐞𝐫

prompt: tyler is commanded to see wednesday in crackstones crypt to make sure shes dead.

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wednesday pov

Dying wasn't nearly as fun as I thought.

It was painful, and not the pain I enjoy.

As I laid on the cold, concrete floor of Crackstone's Crypt, I thought.

I could distantly hear the echoing drip of my warm, crimson blood falling down the step I was sat next to, a cold shiver running up my spine as the smell of metallic blood and static hung in the air.

As I laid, knife in my stomach, arm draped helplessly at my side, I stared at the ground in front of me, my vision slowly starting to black out. Breathing became increasingly more difficult, quickly becoming more of an inconvenience rather than being the thing that kept me alive.

As I prepared myself to submerge into the pulling lullaby of death's sleep, I heard the scraping of stone.

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"Tyler, be a dear and go to Crackstone's Crypt and check on Wednesday," Laurel Gates said.

Tyler's head shot up at Wednesday's name. The last time he saw her, she was dangling from the ceiling of the old man's grave before he was commanded to leave.

"She's supposed to be dead. Be sure she is before returning to the school."

Tyler nodded and walked back into the woods, his mind on a mission but his heart in the clouds.

The hyde that took its front moved forward as the leaves crunched beneath its feet, the back of its mind that held the little humanity of Tyler left thinking in despair about how the girl he liked was probably dead.

He didn't like this; being something he wasn't and having no control over it.

He didn't choose to be like this. The hyde was like another side of him, another being that was sharing this body with him.

He liked Wednesday. The moments he was able to steal with her were real, taking advantage of the times where his master was far enough away so that he could push away his ulterior motives and just enjoy the time he had just being Tyler. With Wednesday.

The orders of Ms. Gates rang in his head like a bell, buzzing through his mind like a pestering bee that doesn't want you to forget it's there. He was seeing the world move around him, but he himself was still, crumpled in a ball in the corner of his brain that was just pure Tyler. They shared the same mind, yet it was split in two.

The monster in him was itching to be let out, eager to rush to its prey and feast on its fear. Her fear, if she's still alive. As they approached the crypt, the tangy and pungent odor of blood almost made the hyde show itself, but Tyler took charge and shoved it down with a feeling of dread.

How desperately he wanted her to be alive.

The hyde, apparently, wanted her to be alive, too.

Tyler stepped to the large stone doors, and, taking in a shaky breath, opened them.

Seeing Wednesday, cold, dead, and slouched on the floor, was enough of a sight to make him crumble into a pile of ash. The hyde that was pushing to come out was forgotten as he ran to her side, the concern for the girl being more important and overpowering than his master's command.

"Wednesday!" he shouted, falling to his knees next to her still body.

Her cold, pale hand rested on her stomach, loosely grasping on to the knife that was plunged into her abdomen. Her other hand, sliced in the middle and soaked in blood, laid on the concrete next to her.