Credo 1.5
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Little known fact. Execution done in an electric chair is actually painless to the person being electrocuted. It only looks painful due to the way their body spasms as the electricity runs through the nerve endings, causing each individual one to fire off involuntary responses at once. The reason that many states moved toward the far more painful lethal injection is due to how the execution looked rather than how it actually felt.
Second little-known fact: spider silk is a good conductor of electricity and can act like a Faraday cage under the right conditions. Unfortunately, when the electricity is applied directly to exposed skin, this works better at keeping electricity in than electricity out.
Third fact that I just realized as my vision cleared: my cousins apparently weren't trying to kill me. Well, they were, but it was in a way that meant well. Sort of. I mean, I wasn't dead, and the swarm I'd set on them had—
Was Pugsley in a sword fight with a stack of bugs? Two hundred bullet ants, four spiders that I couldn't identify off-hand, plus fireflies for eyes. The crazy thing is that he and my swarm seemed evenly matched. I wasn't sure if that was a compliment for me or an insult for him.
"Finished napping, Cousin?" Wednesday asked.
I dismissed the swarm away from Pugsley's sword, dropping a gnat onto him in the process. I tagged Wednesday and Pubert as well. Tracking my cousins seemed the most expedient thing to do right now. "I'm awake. Could one of you undo these straps, please?"
"Yes," Wednesday said as she moved closer to me. "It would seem that you are a good playmate, after all. Most run off all too soon."
Why hadn't I run off, myself? I guess, deep down, I was curious. Plus, there was that thing with the redheaded doll. Wednesday and Pugsley hadn't even heard of Emma yet, and already I was looking forward to seeing her reaction to their presence. Ems never really did handle certain surprises well.
"Most aren't strapped in," I said, and Wednesday undid my arm straps. She reached down and undid my ankles too.
"If we hadn't strapped you in, you would have flailed about and likely hurt yourself," Wednesday said. "I would hate to see that sort of thing happen without me being the cause."
I just gave her a look.
"The hurting yourself, I mean." Wednesday stood once the strap was undone. "It's unseemly."
"I hurt myself all the time," Pugsley said.
"And therein, my point is made."
I rubbed my wrists. Preventing me from hurting myself ended up hurting only a little. Thank God for spider silk costumes. "So. Now what?"
"Now? What games would you like to play, Taylor?" Pugsley asked. "We've got plenty more fun toys to play with."
"Or, perhaps we might want to ask a different question," Wednesday said. "Dear cousin, how, precisely, did you obtain the power of controlling insects? Deals with dark gods? Slaughtering some helpless creature and feed it to something powerful to gain strength?"
"Wait, that was Taylor?" Pugsley asked. "Okay, that was cool! Mom had to train her spiders to do the Tango, but they weren't smart enough to do the Mamushka."
"If, it was as you think," I said, holding up a hand. "You wouldn't be able to tell anyone. Not Uncle Gomez, not Aunt Morticia, and certainly not my parents. Also, please leave Uncle Fester out of it."
"Of course," Wednesday said. "We have to have some secrets from our parents for them to ferret out of us at a later date. Even under torture will we keep your secrets. They would have to pluck our fingernails from our fingers, drive iron pokers into our joints, and even then we wouldn't talk."
"Sounds like an eventful night," I murmured with a vague sense of familiarity. It sounded like something that Ems and I would have watched when we were kids. One of those things she'd close her eyes during. Torture never really was a fun idea, but it definitely drew attention. Of course, there was also the issue of it not really working all too well. But sometimes the torture was more for the pain's sake than anything else. Of course, the movies kind of sucked at showing that, with the faked screams and blood. I have no idea why Emma was so scared of it.
Of course, that was neither here nor there. Wednesday promised for her siblings, and they'd guessed already anyway. The trick would be what to show them. I wasn't entirely sure what had happened for Pugsley's swordfight, but I still had the spiders and bullet ants nearby. I brought them scurrying, skittering into the room, piling upon each other until I had a tower large enough that the spiders could crawl up it onto my hand.
Wednesday looked on, impassive, but there was a light behind her eyes that I hadn't seen there before. "Impressive, but surely that isn't all there is to it."
"Wait, there's more?" Pugsley asked, staring at the spiders in my hands. I made them wave their front legs at him in an adorable fashion.
"I have complete control over every bug within my range," I said, my thin lips pulling into a smile. "All… huh. All forty-five million three hundred fifty-two thousand seven hundred thirty nine bugs within this house and a few blocks beyond are mine."
I left unsaid that the bulk of them were in this house. Only two million were outside. It actually was impressive that the home stood as well as it did, but maybe it wouldn't if I moved some of the bugs. I didn't exactly wish to test that theory.
"That's about two and a half million more than the last count," Wednesday said, a small quirk of her lips appearing on her face for a second. "Done in less than a tenth of the time. That is a useful ability, Cousin."
"Yes, well…" I shrugged. "It's a superpower."
"Ah, one of those superpower," Wednesday said, a glint of understanding coming to her eye. "You're a parahuman in addition to being an Addams."
"Hebert," I corrected. "Mom took Dad's name."
"You have Addams blood in you," Wednesday said. "Unless you drain it out, it will never leave."
"Let's avoid that scenario for now," I said. "We can come back to it if absolutely necessary."
"So, how did you obtain this power, exactly?" Wednesday asked. "I have never heard of an Addams having a Trigger Event, causing them, maybe, but never having one."
I frowned. It wasn't something I truly wished to talk about. Just something that had been done to me that, on thinking about it, was less the what than the who. Though even that, even now, I just wasn't sure. "It probably was a combination of things, but ultimately it stemmed from betrayal."
Pugsley picked his rapier up, and Pubert picked up a mace. "You want us to do something?"
"No!" I immediately said. Emma was my problem, not theirs. I was touched that they were willing to step in, but nobody was going to be applying any sharp instruments to Emma but me—that is to say, I was taking the high road. I didn't want to let anyone hurt Emma. No matter what things were like between us now, we had been like sisters once. Whatever I decided, I owed it to her to handle things personally.
"I'll be the one to deal with that problem," I said with what I hoped was a calming smile. "Don't worry."
"Never," said Wednesday. "You are wearing a costume underneath your clothing. Did you make it yourself?"
"Black widow silk." I rolled up my sleeves to reveal the silk underneath. "It took a while, but I was able to weave it together."
A ghost of a smile passed my female cousin's face. "Spiders truly are wondrous creatures."
"They are," I agreed, and then I clasped my hands together, after moving the spiders that were on them to the other sides. "Again, please don't tell anyone this. Not yet. You're the first ones I've revealed myself to."
"Like Wednesday said." Pugsley nodded, his thin lips pulling into a wide grin. "Not even if they torture us. So, what are you planning on doing as a villain?"
I blinked. Okay, he'd only seen a bit of my costume's sleeve, not even my mask. How was it my cousin was assuming that I'd be a villain already? Then again, he was the kind of person who played "Is there a God?" with glee, not that it wasn't—well, it wasn't entirely unpleasant. Just kind of tingly.
Before I could respond, however, Wednesday spoke up. "Please, Pugsley. Do you really think that Taylor would resign herself to merely be a villain? I know I wouldn't. There's just so much flexibility that is given up locking yourself into one simple side."
"So, you're saying, what?"
"Hero, villain? They're simply labels. You're an Addams. We are beyond such things," Wednesday said, and a cold smile came to her face. "Do as you wish, how you wish. Cause mayhem or stop it. Those who would oppose you, subject you, oppress you… well, you can follow the credo and crush them into the dust."
Wednesday's words resonated within me. I know I'd wanted to be a hero before. I still could be, but the ones who helped me against Lung thought I was a villain. Heck, Armsmaster wasn't sure at first. Other than the chance of going to jail, what did it matter? I could still do the right thing. I could still help people, and it really wasn't like those I'd hit wouldn't deserve it. Wait…
"The credo? Why do I feel like there should be some capital letters in there?" I asked.
"Oh, Taylah! I know! Grandma and Grandpa! Come! We'll show you!" Pubert grabbed my hand and started tugging. I glanced to his older siblings. Pugsley looked a little less than eager, but Wednesday looked contemplative.
"You're correct, Pubert," Wednesday said. "We should show Taylor our family's roots, as our parents did."
"Oh, yeah, and we can play Wake the Dead!" Pugsley said with a grin. "They need to know we've got more family now, anyway."
"When you say Wake the Dead, you mean…" Those had looked like gravestones out back. Had whatever brought the house here also brought a cemetery? Neat.
"You'll see," Wednesday said as Pubert dragged me out the playroom. I suppose I'd get to try the guillotine the next time I was in there. Just needed the right target.
Pugsley followed his sister, shutting the door behind the four of us as I was led down a rickety staircase by a little kid without a care in the world. Of course, I remembered running up and down old staircases when I was a little older than him. Maybe it was something about the age. Then again, Emma didn't seem to like them for some reason.
We passed an open doorway, and I caught a glimpse of an old woman standing over what looked like a genuine cauldron. She smiled at us and waved. I waved back and glanced to my cousins. "Your grandmother?"
"On our mother's side," Wednesday said. "Grandmama does most of the cooking, and she taught Aunt Annette some of her recipes."
"Ah," I said. "What should I call her?'
"She usually just insists on Grandmama," Pugsley said. "But we can introduce you later."
"Yeah," Pubert said. "More important."
He pushed open another door that let outside. The grass sparsely scraggled across the sprawling and stimulating cemetery that was easily visible from the house. It took up a good chunk of their yard. I could see the marble gravestones in all shapes and sizes, clearly custom built and painstakingly placed in a way that almost seemed haphazard, but there was almost an order to them. They had the look of having been there a while, even though I knew this house hadn't been here more than a day and a half.
"So, there's a cemetery here," I said. "It was brought with the house."
"Of course," Wednesday said. "We couldn't leave family behind." She stepped in front of me, giving Pubert a look. I moved the gnat I had on her into her hanging hair as she stopped in front of a gravestone. There was a statue of woman with suspiciously placed holes in her chest.
"This was Aunt LaBorgia," Wednesday said, her voice level. "Died to a firing squad."
"And him?" I gestured to a grave statue of an overweight man missing arms and legs. "Let me guess, torn limb from limb."
"By wild horses," Pugsley said.
"Uncle Eimar was buried alive," Pubert said, pointing at another grave. My lips twitched. Guess he never figured out the way to survive that. Of course, some people would cheat.
We passed another gravestone, with a bust of a woman whose hair was spread widely.
"Aunt Debbie, Uncle Fester's first wife," Wednesday said. "She didn't like us much and made us go to camp."
"We hated camp," Pugsley said.
"I actually liked my camp," I said. "The counselors helped my issues a little then. I was starting to feel better about Mom's death. They did mention something about an Indian uprising a few years back, though."
Wednesday smiled, and it was a genuine one, of fond remembrance. No way. My cousins were awesome. I mean, they had a cemetery in the backyard, and was that a stone couch? It didn't matter. We stopped in front of another, larger grave, where a couple in a horse drawn carriage were memorialized.
"There are our grandparents," Wednesday said. "Unfortunately, they were gone before we were born. Angry mob."
"I'm noticing a theme," I said. "What did they do to cause the angry mob?"
"They were themselves," Wednesday said. "We have psychopaths, fiends, mad-dog killers, brutes, pioneers, and now, capes in the family line. Every single one comes back to our credo, emblazoned there."
"'Sic gorgiamus allos subjectos nunc,'" I said, pressing my thin lips together. I didn't know much Latin, but it sounded important.
"We gladly feast on those who would subdue us," Pugsley translated. "You didn't grow up an Addams, but you get it, don't you?"
Oh, I got it. At least I thought I did, anyway. Emma, Sophia, Madison. Lung. Oni Lee. Others who would dare. I had a family who would help if I asked, and together, maybe, we would feast. I smiled widely and let out a laugh. I got it very much indeed.
This family was a little spooky, but I kind of liked it.
