These Bloodied Halls - [WYLER]

Chapter 1: Our memories alone, remain.

Samuel Johnson once said, "Revenge is an act of passion; vengeance of justice. Injuries are revenged; crimes are avenged", and Wednesday Addams' pride had been indeed injured.

Despite what many thought, the young heiress wasn't immune to the cold and harsh claws of love.

Her family stands as the prime example, of course.

She made it a habit to express her appreciation for them every day. From the afternoons chasing Pugsley with an axe through the Addams estate; to the cold mornings dueling with her father in his favorite burial spot at the manor's backyard, not to mention Wednesday's strict reluctance to miss a single seance session with her mother, regardless of her own feeling on the matter.

No, Wednesday Addams was not a heartless person. Much to her eternal chagrin, she cared.

And one Tyler Galpin had taken advantage of that.

She should've seen it coming, in all honesty. The all-American boy whose sun-kissed skin served as a cloak to hide the beast that lurked inside.

She was no stranger to the concept, after all.

Mr. and Mrs. Glicker had thought their boy to be simply a bit timid; until their poor, sweet Joel had aided Wednesday in preparing her finest Thanksgiving feast. Camp counselors really do taste like chicken when prepared right. He'd even outlived her ingenious attempt on his life, only for things like his parents and the seventh grade to tear them apart.

There was also Lucas Beineke, whom she'd met while picking Black Dahlias for her beloved Nero.

Wednesday's inclination for Lucas had been a product of her first encounter with overwhelming grief; she had found it almost charming how much the boy insisted on his ability to match her family's lifestyle. He was a very needed distraction, but, as all things are prone to do, their time came to cease.

But oh, what an end it'd been.

The young man had put his tie over Wednesday's eyes as she prepared to shoot her crossbow and hit the apple Lucas had placed upon his head - an old Addams courting ritual he insisted they partake in. She could still remember his lovely words. "If you miss, you will be the last thing I ever see."

His intentions had been clear, her aim not so much.

To the untrained eye, these two past paramours of hers had little to nothing in common.

Disrespectfully, Wednesday had to disagree.

Like fine marble statues placed on display, people often praised the polished visage their respective sets of parents so desperately wished to convey through their sons. But she knew better; Wednesday knew to look past the mirage and into the cracked borders of their already slipping masks.

A brief courtship with her and, soon enough, those nearly imperceptible fractures began to swallow them whole. The result had been nothing short of magnificence. Privately, Wednesday fashioned herself an artist, comparing her work to the likes of Samothrace's Winged Victory.

There is a certain cruel beauty in breaking perfect things.

Was it really that much of a shock that someone like Tyler would catch her viper-like gaze? Jericho's very own boy next door, town sweetheart and only son to their "respectable" sheriff.

Just like with the ones before, she reveled in slowly peeling back the layers and discovering more and more of his twisted ways; and the Galpin boy had played the part beautifully. Allowing only Wednesday to see the true scope of the darkness underneath, and in no time, her carefully crafted armor had slowly deteriorated due to soft caramel curls and swamp-colored eyes.