Wednesday

Chapter 1: New Spirit Guide

——————————🕷️——————————

Wednesday lay unconscious on the hospital bed, arms crossed over his chest in a deep sleep. His face blank of any emotion.

Morticia and (Y/n) sat next to his bed, Morticia reading a poem to him. As she finished reading, she looked over and Wednesday, but he didn't move a muscle.

Gomez walked into the hospital room, and placed a hand on his wife's shoulder. "How is our little cadaver?"

"The doctor suggested I read to him. I chose Macbeth. Nothing like death, despair, and dismemberment to try and snap him out of his coma." She sighed.

"Come on, you two. Denmark will still be rotten tomorrow." Gomez insisted.

"Wrong tragedy, mon chéri."

Still, Morticia and (Y/n) stood up, and followed Gomez out of the hospital room.

...

Wednesday's eyes suddenly flew open, and he gasped as he sat up in the hospital bed.

A woman stood in the corner dressed as a nurse and held a bowl. She turned to him and his eyes widened as he saw the late Principal Weems staring at him with a smile.

"Rise and shine, sleepyhead!"

"Principal Weems?"

"Ready for your sponge bath?"

"What ring of hell is this?" Wednesday demanded to know.

He got up from the bed and walked right out of the hospital room. But instead of finding himself in the hallway of the hospital, he was in the woods, surrounded by several doors and Principal Weems old desk and the giant fireplace.

"This isn't hell." Wednesday turned to see Weems standing in front of the fireplace. "But I understand the confusion."

"If I'm not dead, then why are you here?"

"Because I am your new spirit guide." Weems revealed with a smile. "Surprise!"

"That's impossible." Wednesday denied. "A spirit guide must be a relative."

"Turns out, we're 13th cousins. Twice removed."

Wednesday clenched his jaw. "There has to be another option."

"Your last spirit guide literally gave up his ghost to save you. Believe me, nobody was putting up their hand for this assignment." Weems told him.

"And yet, here you are." He pointed out.

"The tantalizing prospect of tormenting you from beyond the grave was just too delicious to pass up." She walked over and sat at the desk. "Now, you've certainly been a busy bee. Just a recap, you lost your psychic ability."

"Only after I mastered it."

"You lied to your girlfriend, (Y/n), about her impending doom."

"I was protecting her."

"And the coup de grâce, freeing Tyler Galpin, a homicidal Hyde, from a high security psychiatric institution." Weems concluded. "Congratulations, Mr. Addams. Your hubris has yet again made you the architect of your own demise."

"I didn't think death could make you any more condescending." Wednesday quipped.

"And your arrogance has only made you more insufferable." Weems clapped back.

"Why don't you restore my ability so we can go our separate ways?" Wednesday suggested.

Weems face became more serious. "Your ability is inextricably tied to who you are. You abused it."

"You sound like my mother."

"Sticks and stones." Weems grinned. "Except, I have no bones."

Wednesday narrowed his eyes. "I'm done being lectured."

He turned to walk away from her but she reappeared in front of him.

"Then wake up!"

She lifted her hand and snapped twice.

——————————🕷️——————————