𝐒𝐚𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐝𝐚𝐲

𝐅𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝 𝐨𝐫 𝐒𝐨𝐫𝐫𝐨𝐰 𝐗

Saturday wakes up with a start on the muddy ground, his body soaked with the cold rain.

He gasps loudly, due to the fear and excitement of what his most recent vision had just revealed to him- a past more vivid and bloodier than the darkest of sins.

He quickly pushes himself up with his strong arms off the wet soil and leaves.

"Thing, I saw him!" he exclaims frantically to the pale, severed and stitched hand patiently waiting in front of him.

"The boy from my visions." he recalls wildly, then swallows. "His name is Goodman Addams," he pauses for a second. "and I believe he's my ancestor from 400 years ago."

The soaked, lean boy stares upwards and forwards, at the broken walls surrounding the meeting house, sensing something.

He gets up and stalks away, his soaked long black overcoat and black, white and grey uniform sticking firmly against his pale skin.

Thing cautiously decides to remain on his log.

Saturday looks through a large crack in between the wooden planks, his eyes manoeuvring skilfully, scanning the empty, narrow space beyond.

There was nothing there.

He turns around and speaks down to Thing: "Must've been the bearded man from earlier." he concluded, his deep, smooth voice loud and clear.

He turns back to look again through the crack, brows furrowed in concentration...

A huge fully widened eye with multiple bloody red veins stares back.

The creature snarls menacingly.

The boy gasps with surprise and fear, jumping back a step and moving backwards.

The creature takes one last look at the tall, boy and just like that, it was gone.

"Come on! Come on!" Saturday yells as he begins to run.

The completely soaked, brooding boy runs quickly down the wide dirt path through the forest, black slate firmly in hand, knuckles white.

He had a large pale hand on his forehand- attempting to shield himself, if only even slightly, from the pouring rain.

He slows down his pace and starts stalking carefully.

Looking down, he noticed many large, bear-like marks on the grassy ground, footprints, though the sharp nails matched a bears', the paw prints seemed more hound-like than the round bear prints, however, there was no hound in the world that size. The paw-prints led a far way off.

The rain continued to pour relentlessly as the young, dead-looking boy kneels down and examines the print carefully. The rain sliding down his pale face and hair complimented with his frown of concentration really accentuated his mysterious, dark and handsome figure.

He notices that a little way off, the paw-prints turn into bare, human footprints. And oh, how the plot thickens.

"The monster's human." he murmurs softly to himself.

"What the hell are you doing?" asks Xaviera loudly and clearly as she stands beside him, pulling the brooding boy out of his thoughts and now, theories.

Saturday's obsidian eyes quickly dart sideways at the sound of her voice.

He stands up curtly, towering over her smaller frame.

"I was following the monster." he replies coldly and nonchalantly, perfect black eyebrows furrowed deeply.

"You saw it?" she asks in disbelief, frowning, large umbrella in hand, the handle was black, the fabric was red, it covered the both of them. "It's here? Do you have a death wish or something?" she asks in exasperation, eyes darting behind Saturday then back into his eyes.