I've Got To Make You MINE - TamberWenclair

Chapter 23 - Unholy

The forest was misty, almost freezing as Tara wandered around in the near evening dark. She rubbed at her arms, glancing down at the top large jacket. It was Amber's uniform coat, why did she have it?

Each step she took caused more pain to bloom in her body, every breath making her lungs scream, she noticed the blood on her hands after a moment, realizing she was making a mess of it on Amber's uniform and panicking a little bit for a moment. Then she remembered just who she was dating. If anything, Amber would find it rather fun to have to figure out how to clean the blood off of her uniform, and Wednesday would know how to get rid of the stains.

She shivered as the wind shifted, making her immediately cross her arms again, wrapping herself in the larger coat.

"Amber? Wednesday? Enid? Where are you guys?!" The forest felt empty, lifeless, and cold. There was no response from any of her lovers, no suffocating hugs from Amber, no gently held hands from Wednesday, and no late-night talks with Enid when none of them could sleep. She was going to call again, but the cold reached into her mouth, her throat tight as she coughed into the crook of her arm. There, she found blood. She gasped, coughing again quickly afterward and spitting blood onto the ground.

"What's happening to me?" She asked aloud, blinking away tears and wiping blood away from her face. She felt her bleeding ears, which surprised her. It explained the silence, the pain in her head behind her eyes, the uncomfortable pressure that made her lightheaded.

"You're dying." Tara felt a hand ghost along her arm, and she turned around to see just what had touched her.

"Wednesday?" The figure looked similar to her boyfriend but had long white braids instead of the shaggy mane of short black hair she was familiar with. The figure wore a gorgeous dress, white and seeming handsewn, it looked about the early 16th century. But Tara wasn't sure, she'd passed her history class with an average C to D grade.

The mist-like form of the person reached out, offering a hand to her.

"Your body is between the veil of life and death, child. I am Goody of the Addams Clan, and you must be one of the new souls Young Wednesday has brought into the family." Tara blinked for a moment, her brain hazily remembering the sign language she'd once been taught in high school. It was an extracurricular at Woodsboro, but she'd never finished it due to leaving Woodsboro with her dad. It wasn't the American sign language she was entirely familiar with, but she still understood. It was like a part of her brain understood the signing, the communication of the spirit before her.

"I'm dead?!" Tara saw Goody step away, seeming to be alarmed by her distress.

"No child, you're merely caught between the veil. Every Addams experiences it in their life. Some choose to stay here and learn the ways of the spirits, others step away to balance the scale and pursue a different life."

"I could learn from you? I wouldn't die from it, right?"

"No, but you would be able to manipulate the veil, speak with spirits, control the Addams' clan magick that runs in your veins."

Tara winced as the cold seeped into her bloody wounds, she slowly pried away both jackets she wore, looking at the large stab wound buried into her abdomen. She frowned, looking back up to Goody.

"That sounds nice, but what I want is to find my partners. Please? Just... Could you help me with this, before I say yes?"

She could see the way Goody's eyes examined her, sensing the disregard for her words as the apparition stepped closer. Goody was invading her personal space in what felt like half-seconds, perhaps less as the spirit reached up and carefully held her head in place, the cold dug into her temples in an uncomfortable burning way, making Tara fidget and shut her eyes nervously. She could feel her soul being lifted, the weight shifting as she floated up past trees and mist, out into the sky until she slipped from the sky like it was water. Weight was back with her at once, gravity pulling her into a freefall as her spirit tumbled closer and closer to the ground.

Squeezing her eyes shut, she fell further until she was stopped by weight, her body suddenly jolting up with a pained scream.

"Trust me, child, you're an Addams, and When you're an Addams, you need to have a taste for death."

The hilt of Amber's knife met the wooden staff with a furious screech, bouncing off of the weapon and providing Amber a chance to duck away, she swung at Crackstone's arm, grinning when she saw her blade tear through his right arm and leave a giant hole in his robes, his arm bleeding as he held the wound. The staff almost fell from his hold, but he held tightly onto it despite the pain.

"You wretched witch!" Amber chuckled at the curse, dodging the staff's swing. She considered attempting to grab it and pull it from Crackstone's hands but decided against it as a blast of fire appeared, barreling towards her through the air. She jumped to the ground, rolling into a dodge beneath the fireball and slashing at Crackstone's leg when she got the chance. She wasn't used to fighting someone with a big stick, so most of her movements were improv at best. The smoke was making its way into her lungs, causing her to cough from Time to time. She growled, still on the ground and kneeling to catch her breath. She was closer to Crackstone now, almost caught when a table was picked up by telekinesis and thrown at her. She glanced behind her and watched it hit the wall of the quad, where it splintered across the rock and littered the earth beneath it.

"Would you just fucking die already, you piece of racist shit?!" Amber launched herself at Crackstone, managing to knock him over simply due to the element of surprise. Unfortunately, her victory was short-lived, as her body was picked up and thrown off of him with magic, where she landed on the bed of splinters and cried out from the pain.

"Shut thy tongue, spawn of Satan! It is my duty to expunge the earth of your presence!" Amber huffed, her back bleeding as she rolled to her side across the splinters, she wiped away the blood from her nose, wiping it off on the sigil of the Slenderman as she stood on shaking legs.

"And I must make sure that assholes like you, can't use magic. So I guess, you're going to have to die!" Amber grinned maniacally, spinning the knife carefully In her hand to the proper position before she stepped into the dark Nevermore halls, the fire still blazing across the lawn itself and slowly eating away at the various school entrances.

"Where hast thy abomination gone? Witchcraft!"

Amber disappeared into the chaos, leaving Crackstone alone on the lawn, until Bianca appeared before him, meeting his staff with quick sword work, and powerful swings that had Crackstone backing away, until he felt a knife pressed against his throat.

"Best say, goodnight Pilgrim, let's hope judgment isn't too kind to you," Amber whispered into his ear, eyes wide with manic glee, she held the knife against his jugular, patient and waiting to make a move. Only for Bianca to thrust her blade into his chest, Amber's knife ripping into his throat soon after. Crackstone's head fell from his body with a satisfying thud, his scream cut off as his body burned and disintegrated in a matter of seconds. His head was reduced to soot and the only thing left of him was a ring, which Amber carefully picked up, admiring it in the firelight.

"This thing looks ancient."

"Yeah, just like he was. Now let's go, I don't want to die here, everyone else has been evacuated from the school."

Amber blinked, looking perplexed at Bianca.

"Where's Tara? We brought her to the infirmary before the fire started."

"She was probably evacuated with the rest of the students and staff. What do you mean, we? None of your partners are here to help you, I should be asking you where Addams and Sinclair are."

"So, show me where they are!" Bianca scoffed softly, grabbing Amber's blood-soaked hands and dragging her out of the quad.