It was an obnoxiously sunny day.
Yes, it was one of those days. Clear skies with hardly any clouds, a fresh breeze and birds singing merrily. Not the slightest trace of ozone in the air that could be considered a prelude to a future storm, the temperature warm but mild and not suffocating, the sounds of families having fun in the park.
For the young girl, who walked with a hurried step and almost military firmness over the pavement of the sidewalk that led to the entrance of her house, those days were the worst. No puddles or muddy areas in the park to look for worms, no lightning to play electrocution with her abhorrent brother while holding an old television antenna.
She was a sight that contrasted with the sunny and colorful surroundings of the street gardens. She was dressed entirely in black, with a sobriety unusual for a teenage girl. Her dark eyes glittered with annoyance beneath her pale frown. Her hair, black as midnight on a moonless night, rested in two long braided pigtails that fell over her shoulders.
Her name is Monday Jones.
And this is not her story.
And sadly, we can't say it begins with her either, nor what role her presence will play in the creepy and mysterious events that will unfold. But Monday Jones is not aware of any of this, which is fortunate because few minds could assimilate the existential horror of what is to come.
Or maybe hers could, who knows.
But no, on that day Monday Jones' mind was more focused on how to make satisfactory use of a free afternoon. Unfortunately, her wretched and good-for-nothing brother Piggley was once again spending that unnaturally sunny Christmas vacation in juvie. Monday felt ambivalent about it. Ramone and Putrescence, their parents, were damned proud of their son's growing criminal record, and to some extent Monday could understand them.
But she saw no merit in her brother always being caught red-handed in the act of committing his poorly planned misdeeds. It was a sign of sheer incompetence that disappointed the young girl. Monday had sent as many classmates to the hospital as her brother or maybe more, but she had always dodged the consequences. You might think her parents would be proud of her for it too (and they were but the jealousy of her pre-teen mind prevented her from appreciating it) but it was always Piggley and his nonsense that dominated the talk.
But even with all that, he was a suitable playmate and occasional accomplice. And not having him with her that afternoon was frustrating. The excess of good weather also disgusted her. The lack of muddy puddles with frogs or toads was an execrable situation for her.
Finally, almost walking on autopilot as she fantasized about using her crossbow on some decapitated dolls, Monday arrived home.
The Jones residence stood out in the neighborhood the way a purulent pustule would stand out on delicate skin. In a quintessential suburban setting littered with two-story houses with basements, backyards, front lawns, and white picket fences, the Jones house was more like a twisted tree trunk. An asymmetrical, irregular dark wood house, topped by a roof of black shingles falling apart, surrounded by a garden covered in damp leaf litter that seemed perpetually trapped in autumn. And the white picket fence was a series of iron spikes and sharp glass next to a moat where several neighbors had sworn they saw the scales of something huge swimming around.
It was homey.
Monday jumped over the moat effortlessly and entered the house without using any key, not even her hands. The door opened on its own before her presence.
The interior was a paradox. Any visitor would notice at once that the reception room, which served as the main hall, was abnormally large. Much larger than the exterior of the house would suggest. Every surface, from the floor to the walls, seemed to be covered with a reddish velvet on which several colonies of fungi grew here and there. Various paintings adorned the walls, mostly portraits of relatives or illustrations that could not be described here in words without accidentally turning this text into a grimoire of demonic invocations. Next to the paintings were multiple stuffed animals, some of impossible species such as a rabbit with moose antlers.
Monday did not say hello when she entered the house, nor did she announce her presence. She could immediately sense that her parents were out. Perhaps they were planning an escape attempt for her brother so he wouldn't miss Christmas Eve that year. It didn't bother her, she liked the solitude, and having the whole house to herself even if it was only for a few hours pleased the young girl. She resolved to spend the time testing different types of ammunition for her crossbow using some of her brother's unfortunate toys.
She climbed up to her room, the stairs creaking with a plaintive screech with each step of her ascent. She gathered her weapon, different types of bolts, a canister of gasoline, and several of her brother's figurines and toys. She considered for a few moments using some of the voodoo dolls of his that she had made over the years, but they were only satisfying to play with when Piggley was present to watch him writhe in pain and squeal like a piglet.
Pain made the most delicious noises.
Equipped with everything she was going to need, Monday descended the old stairs again and once again each step greeted her footsteps with a pitiful sound. On the last two steps the young girl stomped harder than required, splintering the wood and for a few seconds it seemed as if the whole house had shuddered, just like a person who had been hit in the ankle. Monday allowed herself a small smile that oozed sadism on her usually stern face.
Finally, she entered the back garden. The irritating brightness of that horribly sunny day blinded her for a few moments as she stepped outside. That was what caused her to wonder for a few seconds whether what she was seeing was a mirage or a hallucination.
Because in front of her, in the middle of the garden, stood an astronaut.
Well, it wasn't exactly an astronaut. The suit was similar, certainly in the design of the disproportionately huge helmet. But the suit seemed to be made from scraps, as if assembled by piecing together pieces from different parts of various designs. It also looked worn, covered with traces of what appeared to be a fine gray ash. What stood out most was the glowing device on their wrist, a watch-like object with small green lights flashing on it.
Monday had seen the figure, but the figure had not seen her. The astronaut seemed disoriented, as if they were not fully aware of their surroundings.
The curiosity of the young Jones overcame any concern she might have had at the presence of the unexpected intruder.
“Who are you?” she asked.
The sound of her voice startled the intruder. The astronaut gasped before turning around and focusing her attention on Monday. Bringing a hand to her helmet, she lifted the opaque visor revealing the face of a young woman in her early twenties, blonde and with dark blue eyes. Eyes that were riveted on Monday with an almost obsessive fervor.
“Oh... My... God... Finally! I found you! I found you in time!”, said the stranger, with an elation bordering on hysteria, “I don't know how much time we have! You must...”, she started to say as she advanced towards Monday, only to suddenly stop and interrupt herself when she suddenly found a crossbow pointed directly at her face.
“Oh... Ok,” the stranger said, holding up her hands, “Yeah, for a moment there I forgot who I was dealing with,” she mumbled nervously.
“You haven't answered my question,” Monday stated, “And since you're one twitch of my finger away from one of these bolts familiarizing itself with your skull I'd suggest you speak up.”
The woman nodded, lowering her hands slightly, “My... my name is Amanda. Amanda Buckman and... you don't know me?”
Monday shook her head negatively. Amanda sighed, “ Yeah, I wasn't expecting that. Look, really, we don't have much time,” she repeated, looking around. Monday noticed that some of the woman's nervousness and fear was not about the weapon pointed at her. She was constantly looking her surroundings, as if expecting an ambush at any moment, “I need you to come with me.”
Monday raised an eyebrow, intrigued, “Is this a kidnapping?”
“If it was would that make you more willing to come with me?”
“No, not really,” Monday replied, ”A strange female astronaut in my backyard is the kind of weirdness that even I'd rather consult my parents on.”
Amanda growled, a growing frustration overpowering her nerves and fear, “Damn it, we just don't have time. I know this is all very strange, but I promise to explain everything that's going on.”
“I'm going to need some assurance of more weight than a bunch of incomprehensible ambiguities with no context to go with you, ma'am,” Monday said, ”Or a chloroform wipe over my nose.”
“Please, Wednesday...”
“I'm not Wednesday.”
An indescribable expression crossed Amanda's face. Surprise, perhaps. Disbelief. And... yes, Monday could see it clearly, some despair.
“What did you say?” the woman asked, in a quiet, almost inaudible voice that came from her lips like a whimper.
“I'm not Wednesday,” Monday repeated, ”I assume you mean Wednesday Addams, my cousin. We often get mixed up at family gatherings."
Amanda stared at her, as if not quite believing the words she had just heard, “But...the pigtails...” she muttered.
Monday lowered the crossbow, frowning. The situation was getting more outlandish with each passing moment but in a way that was more irritating than amusing. And it was a small wound to her pride that it all seemed to be about her cousin and not her, being mistaken by the stranger.
Although if she wanted to kidnap Cousin Wednesday she hadn't done her homework properly, she thought, The Addamses live in Jersey and this is California.
Meanwhile, Amanda had started compulsively checking the device on her wrist, “No, no, it can't be... it has to be her, the energy reading is... What the hell do you mean there are two of them!!! They're cousins, not clones, you fucking piece of shit!”
Suddenly, all the lights on the device turned red and it began to beep repeatedly. The sound was clearly an alarm. Amanda stood very still, the red light reflecting on the transparent visor covering her face.
“No,” she whispered.
“What's wrong?” asked Monday. She didn't want to admit it, but the whole thing was starting to worry even her.
“No, no...,” Amanda continued, ignoring the girl, “I messed up... I'm late again...”
The wind had begun to pick up. Suddenly, with no hint of any other change. The sun was still shining.
“What's going on?” asked Monday again.
The birds had stopped singing.
Amanda looked up, glancing at Monday once more. The young Jones did not like the implication of what was now in those eyes.
Pity.
“I'm sorry,” Amanda said, ”I'm so sorry.”
Monday noticed the change in the atmosphere as soon as those words left Amanda's mouth. The Joneses may have been a separate minor branch of the Addamses, but in their inner selves still beat the same adherence to the strange and unexplainable and Monday was no exception to that. Not only did she notice the change in the air, she even sensed as if something unnatural was happening around her, but she couldn't quite put her finger on what.
Instinctively, she turned her attention to her left, beyond the edges of her garden.
Then she saw it.
But “saw” is not the right word. Monday couldn't really see it. She could see the houses in the neighborhood being wiped away, the very sky above them disappearing. Everything above and everything below ceasing to exist. For an instant her brain interpreted it as a huge wall of black light advancing and devouring everything in its path but even that was a poor interpretation for something genuinely indescribable. It could not be described because... because it was nothing.
It was nothing at all.
Monday closed her eyes, suddenly sore and tearful. The wind was still gaining strength and a deafening sound had begun to take presence, as if the entire world was screaming.
“What is that?!” she exclaimed.
“It's The Nothing,” Amanda replied, with resigned calm as she manipulated the device on her wrist, ”I've failed. Your cousin is dead, her whole family is dead. And now this whole world...”
The device began to vibrate. Monday watched as Amanda Buckman's entire body began to vibrate as well and become vaguely transparent, as if she was a distorting image projected onto a canvas.
“If it's any consolation, I have it on good authority that it doesn't hurt,” Amanda said, letting out a broken chuckle as she lowered the opaque visor of her helmet, “Though being related to the Addamses, that surely doesn't amuse you at all.”
Amanda began to feel the familiar pain of the prelude to Jumping. Like so many other times, her atoms would be flung into another universe. And like so many other times pain would be her only companion.
Light burning her eyes, a million needles sinking into her flesh.
Here we go again, she thought.
Did we say pain would be her only companion? Unfortunately that wasn't going to be entirely accurate. Only the familiarity of the pain allowed Amanda's diminished senses to notice the touch of something...no, someone gripping her arm with unrelenting force.
She opened her eyes and through her opaque visor met the dark, enraged eyes of Monday Jones, holding onto her.
“No!” Amanda began to say, ”Wait!”
Disintegration.
“You mustn't...!”
Dimensional jump.
The two vanished into thin air. As if they had never been there, mere seconds before the Nothing erased the Jones' house out of existence. Before that entire universe perished as so many others had previously, in countless numbers.
And several universes away, a Guardian Wolf shuddered in her sleep.
NOTES:
And here we go again! Welcome to Creepy Mysterious. I hope you like this little (and late) Christmas present in the form of a prologue. Unfortunately, I must inform you that my update rhythm in this fic is going to be somewhat irregular, at least in these first weeks. But I hope to recover the usual weekly rhythm soon. I hope.
You already know this version of Amanda from the epilogue of Kooky Spooky. Meanwhile, Monday Jones and her family made an appearance in the 1999 Addams Family revival TV series. If I'm not mistaken that's the only adaptation in which they have appeared.
The next chapter will be yet another prologue. The introduction of a couple of new characters. Some of you probably suspect who they are.
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