𝕊𝕥𝕦𝕡𝕚𝕕 ℂ𝕦𝕡𝕚𝕕 ➶

𝔽𝕠𝕣𝕥𝕪-𝔽𝕠𝕦𝕣: ℍ𝕖𝕒𝕣𝕥𝕒𝕔𝕙𝕖

Morticia usually waited until the witching hour to cast her spells and brew her potions, and tonight was no exception. The only nuisance came in the form of an impatient Gomez laying in her bed.

"Can we start now?" He'd ask, despite wearing a wristwatch and knowing full well the time they would start. At the shake of her head, he'd quiet down for a time before asking again. "How about now?"

"Patience, mon cherie," she chided in her most teasing tone.

"Oh, Tish... That's French!"

"Oui."

At her reply, he slid out of her sheets with all the grace of a serpent and came to stand behind her, where she was seated at her vanity. After he ducked down to press a kiss to the back of her head, she twisted in her chair for a mere intimate lover's embrace, a French kiss.

Usually, a couple kisses would quickly bloom into something more, but that was when the clock hand ticked over to midnight.

"It's time," Morticia gasped out, heart already afire. Gomez grinned wide as a jack-o'-lantern.

She turned back to her vanity mirror before tapping its surface. It rippled like a still pond that suddenly had a pebble tossed into it. When it settled again, it wasn't her own image that was reflected in the glass.

She'd put a little enchantment on Valentina's favorite plushie once it became apparent that the girl would be leaving Nevermore and, more importantly, them. Now the stuffed animal's eyes were their own. She and Gomez abused the privilege something dreadful, checking in as often as they could. But it was especially beneficial on midnights like these.

The spell wouldn't take unless the girl was deeply asleep, which she usually was by this hour. Unlike them, she had a strong habit of going to bed before the daylight and waking up for the sunrise. It was all but too sweet. And, likewise, too convenient.

Baphomet was facing her, cradled in her arms like a baby. They couldn't get a good view of anything in the darkened room, especially not at this angle... But, in this case, the dark was all they were looking for. It meant their spell had a better chance of succeeding.

Morticia immediately went to work. She began brewing two portions of sleeping draught in her electric kettle. She'd made it so many times that it was a completely mindless task. The spell she was attempting to cast, on the other hand, had to be very mindful.

It was more of a ritual than a spell really, but everything had to be perfect. She and Gomez had to prepare by cleansing themselves spiritually first. Next, at the time of the ritual, a spell candle anointed with unholy oil had to be lit and fed with a mixture of the right herbs as well as a strand of Valentina's hair from a stolen hairbrush. It would be left to burn all night. A fire hazard, to be sure, but one worth the risk.

Once the sleeping draught was finished, she poured it into two cups. With a shared smirk, they clinked their glasses together with an unspoken, "Cheers," allowing some liquid from each glass to spill into the other. Then they downed the potion as quickly as they could.

The flobberworm mucus gave the drink an unfortunate texture, and the lavender made it taste like soap, but they weren't drinking it for the pleasure. They were simply seeking its effects.

Once their glasses were drained, they quickly climbed into bed. By the time they were situated in each other's arms, they were out like twin snuffed-out candles.

As they entered a state of lucid dreaming and dragged Valentina's consciousness into their own shared dreamland, they focused on setting the scene, one they'd discussed at length beforehand.

Morticia knew the spell was a success when she opened her eyes to find herself in an operating theater. She wore a vintage nurse's outfit... Not scrubs, but a little dress, in black instead of white, with its usual red accents. It was complete with a little cap embossed with a red cross.

Gomez mostly looked the same as he usually did, except his suit jacket had been traded out for a long black doctor's coat.

Valentina was laid out on the operating table between them, dressed only in a pastel pink hospital gown --which tied in the front rather than the back-- and a matching pair of pink panties. Oh, and a Schimmelbusch mask. She was conscious and her eyes were open, but only they could move.

Grinning, Morticia and Gomez looked down at her for a moment and then back up at each other.

"Shall we begin?" He asked, head cocked. The surgical instruments were laid on a metal tray to her right.

"We shall!" She chirped before daintily picking up one of the scalpels between her thumb and forefinger and offering it to him, blade first. Valentina's eyes --wide and absolutely filled to the brim with tears as well as horror-- followed the movement. "Would you like to do the honors?"

"Oh, Tish... I would love to." Their fingers brushed up against each other as the scalpel changed hands. Tish carefully pulled the tails of the white bow that kept Val's hospital gown closed and opened it with all the relish of a child picking at the seams of a present on Christmas morning.

Gomez proceeded to make a Y incision, starting from shoulders on both sides until he reached the lowest part of the sternum before drawing a line from there to down between her pubic bones.

Once her flesh was separated and flipped to either side, she passed him a series of surgical instruments so he could cut through her sternum and open up her rib cage. They both paused and took a moment to peer inside like pirates first peeking into a treasure chest, then they both raised their scalpels and went to work.

Valentina couldn't do much more than whimper and watch as they systematically unpacked her organs, laying them in two neat rows on either side of her, starting with her appendix and ending... With the heart.

Gomez brandished a suture needle and began sewing their initials --"GA+MF"-- into each organ before tucking them back inside of her.

The heart wasn't given the same treatment, though. That Morticia sliced into as if it were an apple. She cut it into thick wedges of red meat, popping one into her mouth before passing the next to her beau for him to consume. It was sweet and tender, practically melting in their mouths.

They'd just about finished their work before the dream fizzled out into an endless black void. Valentina must have woken up. She lasted longer than she usually did, which likely had more to do with their becoming more adept at this spell than her becoming more resilient against nightmares.

The sweet dream was more than worth the hangover Morticia had from the sleeping draught the next morning. Gomez must have felt the same way, because the first words sleepily slurred from his lips were, "What should we do next?" She could help but grin as she pressed her lips into the meat of his shoulder.