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𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐑𝐓𝐘-𝐓𝐇𝐑𝐄𝐄 ʏᴏᴜ ʟᴏᴏᴋ ᴘʀᴇᴛᴛʏ ɪɴ ʀᴇᴅ
𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐑 𝐒𝐈𝐍𝐂𝐄 𝐈𝐕𝐘 was young, her mother taught her the art of witchcraft. The beauty in things others despised or called ugly. Aspen Bassett loved to use her powers. She loved to heal dying plants, create herbal medicine. She wanted Ivy to know the feeling of being a witch among a long line of powerful ancestors.
Ivy's grandmother, Aspen's mother, showed her that you should never take magic for granted. That It can be used to help and heal, but never to revive the dead. That with magic comes consequences. You can prolong death, but it is inevitable.
Ivy loved magic. But she feared to use it. She was scared that helping the wrong person would come with dangerous repercussions. She used her powers for small things, like setting the wick of a candle alight. Or doing little things that wouldn't have a domino affect. Ivy wasn't good at dealing with her emotions, she didn't know how to process them. Her powers were aligned to her emotions, causing her to become unpredictable. She'd rather keep helping wounded birds them risk everything.
Wednesday was the first to wake in Crackstones crypt. Her arms were bound above her, blood seeping from her temple where the shovel in Laurel's hand had hit her. She kept trying to find the red head that she so badly adored, but Ivy was nowhere. After Tyler left, Thornhill walked in, placing unique lids over the jars that contained human organs.
"I have to admit. . . that shape-shifting stunt with Weems almost worked. But as my father always said, if you want to outsmart an outcast, you got to out-think 'em." Laurel explained. "You know, we have roots that go all the way back to Joseph Crackstone."
"So you come from a line of psychotic killers too."
Laurel was unamused. "Joseph Crackstone was a visionary, dedicated to protecting normies from outcasts until his life was cut short by your ancestor, Goody Addams. And let's not forget the others burned alive by Agatha Bassett. And then, to add insult to injury, they stole his land to build that abomination of a school."
Laurel stepped back, walking to the other side of the room. "But, throughout the centuries, my family has remained committed to Crackstone's mission. My brother died serving that cause. I decided to take a different approach. The supernatural."
"Tyler's been collecting these body parts to resurrect Crackstone." Wednesday spoke aloud as Laurel walked back in, dragging an unconscious Ivy behind her. "Ivy." Wednesday's eyes went wide. She hoped that Ivy had gotten away somehow.
"The one man who nearly succeeded in eradicating the outcasts. " The woman spoke about her ancestor as she let Ivy fall beside Wednesday, closer to the wall wear the same steel chains were cuffed around Ivy's frail wrists. The Addams girl was worried, but she couldn't show it now.
