Chapter 17: Crackstone's Resurrection - Part 2
The temperature dropped twenty degrees in thirty seconds as Joseph Crackstone tore himself from three centuries of death. Supernatural fire wreathed his resurrection, turning the ruins of the old meeting house into a pyre that burned without consuming anything except the air itself.
He's massive.
Seven feet of Puritan fury wrapped in flames that shouldn't exist, eyes blazing with fanatic certainty that made the Hyde look cuddly by comparison. Crackstone's first conscious act was to incinerate Laurel's cultist followers—not allies, just fuel for his purification mission.
Laurel scrambling backward, terror replacing triumph.
She summoned something beyond her control.
Crackstone turned toward Nevermore's lights with singular focus, and I triggered our pre-arranged signal: three short shadow pulses toward the main building where Wednesday waited. The message was simple and desperate.
It's starting. God help us all.
The siege began with Crackstone's first fireball reducing the west wing's gothic architecture to rubble. Stone that had stood for centuries crumbled like paper, and somewhere in that destruction, students were screaming.
Game time.
Nevermore's defense fractured into desperate chaos. The Furs engaged Tyler's Hyde in the main courtyard—Enid leading the charge with leadership that emerged naturally despite her non-transformation. But Tyler was different now, killing-focused in ways that made his previous attacks look restrained.
Laurel's chemical control. No more hesitation.
I moved through the battle using Unnoticed Mode and shadow manipulation in combination, creating barriers that slowed the Hyde's charges while evacuating wounded students through corridors that reeked of smoke and fear.
Support role. Keep people alive.
A section of the main hall's ceiling cracked under Crackstone's assault, masonry raining down on three students who were trapped beneath debris. I had maybe five seconds before tons of stone crushed them.
First command. Make it count.
"HOLD."
The Cursed Speech tore from my damaged throat like swallowing razors. The word carried every protective instinct I'd developed over weeks of found family, every promise to keep people safe.
The collapsing archway froze mid-fall, supernatural compulsion overriding gravity for exactly fifteen seconds. Long enough for the students to scramble clear before physics reasserted itself.
Three lives saved. One command used.
Blood filled my mouth, and my throat felt like someone had taken sandpaper to the inside. But the tactical math was simple: temporary pain versus permanent death.
Worth it.
The battle continued to fragment. Crackstone advanced through the quad like a walking apocalypse, every step leaving scorched earth, every gesture reducing centuries of architecture to ash. Wednesday had positioned herself deliberately to draw him away from the student population, but even Addams family resilience had limits.
She's losing. Badly.
I reached the quad to find Wednesday on pure defensive, shadow manipulation and psychic abilities failing against supernatural fire that burned through darkness itself. She was backing toward the fountain, options narrowing with each step.
Thirty meters away. Too far for shadows.
Behind me, Eugene's voice coordinated evacuation efforts with tactical brilliance that would have made generals proud. My promise to him echoed in my damaged throat: don't burn out your voice completely.
Some promises can't be kept.
Then Enid transformed.
Finally. Gloriously.
Her wolf form erupted with alpha power that had been building for months. Golden fur caught moonlight, muscles rippled with predatory grace, and when she howled, every canine within miles heard the call of something apex.
Beautiful and terrifying.
She launched herself at Tyler's Hyde with fury that encompassed months of family disappointment, self-doubt, and suppressed instinct. The collision shook the courtyard, supernatural forces meeting in violence that belonged in myths rather than reality.
Enid can handle Tyler. Wednesday needs help.
Crackstone raised his hand for the killing blow, supernatural fire gathering around his fingers like liquid death. Wednesday had nowhere left to retreat, no tricks remaining, no allies close enough to intervene.
Except me.
I used everything I had left.
"BURN."
The Cursed Speech wasn't directed at Crackstone—it was amplification of Wednesday's own killing intent, feeding supernatural weight into her desperate counterattack. My single word transformed her defensive gesture into execution.
Amplification. Enhancement. Making her strong enough to—
Crackstone screamed as Wednesday's enhanced strike tore through his supernatural defenses. Fire met darkness, fanatic will met Addams determination, and for one crystalline moment the outcome balanced on the edge of possibility.
Then he died. Again. Finally.
The resurrected pilgrim collapsed into ash that scattered on wind that shouldn't exist, carrying three centuries of hatred into nothing.
Victory.
And I was dying.
My throat had torn completely, vocal cords shredded beyond any hope of healing. Blood poured from my mouth in quantities that meant internal damage, and my vision grayed as consciousness became optional.
Kept my promise to Eugene. Mostly.
My shadows wrapped around me protectively as the world dissolved. The last thing I processed was Enid's wolf form standing victorious over Tyler's unconscious Hyde body, and Wednesday's face appearing in my failing vision.
"You amplified my attack. Elegant solution."
I tried to respond but no sound came. Not even whispers.
She understood anyway: "Eugene's safe. You kept your promise."
Close enough.
Darkness claimed me knowing my found family had survived.
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