Wednesday had made a grave error in judgment. Never, not even under threat of death, should she have allowed herself to endure hours cramped in the car—not to mention an international flight—with her parents acting like a pair of dogs in heat. She should have made arrangements to accompany Tyler to the penitentiary facility instead. It was an oversight on her part, and now she was paying for it.
Tyler had been on edge during the early part of their trip, no doubt fearing what would happen if he lost control while they were packed like sardines in a can, but he gradually relaxed. Although she hadn’t asked, he had informed her that his bond with Laurel seemed to be affected by distance. The further apart they were, the less control she had over him.
By the time they set foot in Transylvania, he seemed to be almost enjoying himself—as unfathomable as that notion was. He sat close to the hearse’s window, taking in the dense forests and quaint country villages as they blurred past. Wednesday, meanwhile, sat stiffly and prayed that Lurch would somehow drive them off a bridge. Anything to stop her parents’ continual pawing at each other.
“Ah, there it is!” her father exclaimed at last. “Our home away from home for the next few weeks.”
Tyler’s expression registered shock at the sight of the sprawling gothic castle that crowned the hill ahead of them. Against the background of the moonless sky, it looked like something straight out of Dracula. “That’s our hotel?”
“Not a hotel, my dear boy,” her mother said silkily. “The entire estate is ours. It’s been owned by my ancestors for nearly eight centuries now. A great-great uncle of mine—a very entrepreneurial man—did attempt to turn it into a boardinghouse, but it didn’t go well, I’m afraid.”
''Why not?” Tyler asked.
“It’s considered to be one of the most haunted places in the world,” Wednesday said flatly. “Potential tenants took one look and fled.”
“Yes,” her mother sighed, “unfortunately they failed to see that the bloodstains on the walls and the old torture relics merely add character.”
“Oh...that’s, um, too bad,” Tyler said lamely.
Lurch parked the hearse and Wednesday stepped out, inhaling deeply. The loamy Transylvania soil was one of her favorite scents—second only to rotting flesh. Tyler climbed out after her, craning his neck to gaze up at the massive stone turrets of the castle.
“Lurch will handle your luggage, dear,” her mother told him. “Come with me, I’ll show you to our best guest room.”
“No need, mother. He’ll be staying with me.”
Tyler broke into a sudden coughing fit, but her mother only smiled. “Very well, darling. I’ll leave him to you then.”
Wednesday strode towards the heavy front doors without a backward glance. “I’d advise you to keep up. There are enough trap doors and secret tunnels that you could get lost in here for days—and that’s given the unlikely assumption that I actually bother looking for you.”
Tyler blinked in surprise, then trotted to catch up. “Hey, uh, are you sure about this whole sharing a room thing?”
She shot him a level look. “You really think I’d let you out of my sight? Don’t tell me you’ve already forgotten what you are.”
Tyler flinched slightly and fell silent.
She led the way through a maze of corridors and down several winding staircases to her room. It had once been part of the dungeon where torture was conducted. The room was cool and dank, with no windows. The only source of light came from a small overhead bulb. The stone walls were decorated with an array of old torture implements and human remains—skulls, mostly. In short, it was one of her favorite places in the world.
She watched Tyler walk around the room, pausing now and then to examine a pair of rusted pliers or a saw. She searched his face for signs of disgust, but found only open fascination.
She sat down on the edge of her bed. “I’ll have a cot brought in for you.”
He nodded absently. “It’s strange. I can still feel her, but barely. Before, it was like she consumed every part of mind. There was no space for anything else.”
There was no need to question who “she” was. “Good. That will make our work easier.”
“Can I ask you something?” he said quietly.
“You can ask, but there’s no guarantee I’ll answer.”
“Why didn’t you kill her?”
“Do you wish I had?” she asked steadily.
His eyes skittered away from hers. “I...I don’t know.”
She walked to the wall and ran her fingers lightly over a 13th century guillotine blade—one of her personal favorites. “Death was too good for Laurel Gates. By leaving her alive, I have ensured that she will suffer at my hands for decades to come.”
“But isn’t she going to prison?”
“I fail to see your point.”
He shook his head. “Never mind.”
“There is something I would like to make clear as well,” she said. “You do not need to ask my permission before speaking or acting. Laurel may be gone, but I have no intention of replacing her. I am not your master and I will make you regret it if you treat me as such. I am here to teach you to control the Hyde, and that is the extent of our relationship. Is that understood?”
Tyler nodded. “Yes.”
“Good, then tomorrow morning we’ll begin.”
Author's note:
Hello guys!Since I have a mini holiday during this week I'm going to try and upload a little bit more. I'm thinking about posting another chapter until *Wednesday* and then again on Sunday :)
Hopefully I'll be able to do so since I'm sick and not feeling too well🤒
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His Hyde's Jekyll
Fanfiction"You hesitated. Why didn't you kill me?" Tyler Galpin is nothing else than a huge enigma-and there's nothing Wednesday Addams despises more than a problem she can't solve. Her obsession has nothing to do with the aching, asthma-like sensation in her...
