Chapter Text
Isn't it funny, how in a single moment your greatest adoration can turn to your greatest, most treacherous fear in the split of a second?
Death. Oh, sweet death.
She'd craved it, what, a whole sturdy sixteen years.
Ideation. Admiration.
But she'd never been warned of the pure terror that would come with it.
The crunch of her ribs beneath tight writhing vines. The oxygen staining her lips blue and her eyes are bulging in agony.
And worse yet - Pugsley, Tyler, watching.
Her baby brother. And the boy she loved but hated at the same time.
Pugsley, oh Pugsley. He looked utterly terrified.
Her life felt no finer than a bee's wing: Line severing excruciatingly slow.
She's choking: Horrible gutsy noises. Like intestines spilling onto pavement amidst a massacre.
But this is no massacre.
This is a teenage girl being buried alive.
The world around her is cold as it's always been; She's submerged.
The dirt fills her mouth - her throat, her lungs.
She's scared.
That's it.
Wednesday Addams is scared.
The pressure in the back of her head grows like a thought-numbing migraine. She cannot move her fingers or her toes.
Nor her arms, her neck or her legs.
Her eyes, she keeps shut as the rough dirt heavies her lids.
Her heart is stuttering. She feels it all around. Painful pulsing from her her head to the tips of her toes. And for all of five minutes she remains convulsing. Then still.
And just like that, like quicksilver done the drain - she is gone.