Monstrous Feelings (Weyler one-shots)

Monstrous Foes

In the shadowy theater of her despair, Laurel Gates found herself ensnared by the shackles of time, a year and a half imprisoned within the suffocating confines of her own limitations. Amidst the oppressive confinements, she was forced to confront the challenge of escape alone, without the relief a hyde could have provided. Each day that rose before her was a step closer to the longed-for freedom; each night, a dance of elaborate strategies; and each dawn, a surrender to exhaustion. In this race towards liberation, shortcuts and friendly hands to guide her were nonexistent; only her ingenuity and determination stood as her closest companions on the journey toward the light.

Throughout that year and a half, the streams of her mind wove an intricate tapestry of vengeance. Every thread of resentment and strand of hatred intertwined in a dark symphony, a meticulously concocted plan: the murder of Wednesday Addams and her family. Like an architect of shadows, Laurel sketched every detail with surgical precision; she visualized each step along the shadowy path that would lead her to the ruin of those she vowed to destroy. From the entrance to the sinister abode of the Addams, to the final point of their lives, every moment was calculated with lethal exactitude.

However, life has a tendency to shape its own course, and time flowed like a capricious river, carrying away the meticulously woven plans. The confrontation with her ancestor culminated in failure, and the stings of the peculiar child's bees and Wednesday's relentless blows led her to the abyss of death. She was led, wounded and shackled, to the medical ward, where she became immersed in a world of pain and care. There, trapped between the shadow of her thirst for revenge and the vulnerability of her own body, she wrestled with the duality of her existence. Healing became a stark reminder of her mortality, a persistent echo threatening to fade the darkness she had embraced.

The claws of the maximum-security prison held her firmly, its somber walls enveloped her in an unrelenting embrace. But something else faded into the gloom: the connection with Tyler. Once as robust as an underground torrent, it now evaporated into the mist of time and distance. The news of Wednesday Addams' survival and the brutality she herself had experienced acted like the edge of a knife, severing the ties that had been patiently forged. The chain of influence and power she had skillfully woven now lay in tatters in the abyss of disillusionment.

Nevertheless, nostalgia wove a thread of melancholy that snaked through her thoughts. Tyler, her Tyler, was not merely a pawn in her revenge plan. He was a versatile tool, an instrument with which to shape not only her thirst for retribution but also her most intimate desires. An unwanted bond, a painful paradox. She couldn't boast of having felt affection for such a dark being, but emotions are complex entities, woven with unpredictable threads that defy conventional categories.

And yet, an even deeper sorrow enveloped her being: the knowledge that she had lost a portion of her influence over Tyler. The spectral figure, the enigmatic Wednesday Addams, had barged into her world, disentangling the intricate power equation she had constructed. Laurel struggled to comprehend how an apparently insignificant figure, a specter on the periphery, had managed to breach Tyler's defenses in a way she never could. Every glance, every gesture the girl directed at him seemed an unbreakable spell, leaving Tyler entrapped in a mysterious dance of enchantment.

Laurel, a woman of maturity and elegance, found herself ensnared in the enigma of Wednesday's youth. The girl's radiant skin and air of innocence eclipsed Laurel's mature beauty and experience. She wondered what secrets the young woman hid, what invisible forces wove their influence over him. It was a dark enigma, a puzzle that threatened to unravel the fragility of her own control over Tyler.

In the dimness of her cell, Laurel contemplated the paradox of her emotions. Insecurities grew in her mind like tangled roots, while the echo of unspoken words resonated in the oppressive silence. She was aware that time in her confinement, forced introspection, and silence would provide her with the opportunity to understand the depth of her emotions and chart a new course in her pursuit of revenge and power.