His Hyde's Jekyll

Chapter 13.The End

"Well," Mr. Cardboard said at last, "I'll close with one final question. The Jekyll to My Hyde, at its heart, is a story about love and acceptance. The power and poignancy of your writing, Mrs. Addams, has led many readers to wonder if the book is meant to be symbolic-and is actually based on real-life experiences. So, I'll let you put the rumors to rest once and for all. How much, if any, of the story was inspired by true events?"

"All of it. I lobbied for my publishing company to market it as non-fiction, but I was unfortunately unable to convince them."

Mr. Cardboard laughed, but it sounded strangled. "Well, thank you again for your time, Mrs. Addams. It's been a, uh, real pleasure." He stood quickly, nearly knocking his chair over in his haste. "And ladies and gentlemen, please don't forget to head to the main hall where Mrs. Addams will be holding a book signing right after this."

Wednesday soon found out that 'book signing' was a euphemism for hell-or at least the closest thing to it. She sat at a table, surrounded by an endless sea of squealing teenage girls. They were as persistent as gnats-every time she managed to get rid of one, another sprung up to take her place.

Most of the girls reached her table and started gushing incoherently. It took every iota of her restraint to keep from jamming their precious books into their mouths to shut them up.

She toyed with the idea of leaving, but she had given her word to Tyler. She had no choice but to endure this surprisingly effective form of torture.

"Next," she called. She braced herself for another wave of nonsensical rambling that threatened to make her ears bleed, but it never came.

She raised her eyes to find a petite girl-probably no older than thirteen or fourteen years old. She was certain she had never seen her before, yet her large eyes were strangely familiar. The girl stepped forward almost tentatively and laid her book on the table.

"M-Mrs. Addams," she stammered shyly, "I wanted to thank you. Because of you, I know that there's hope for people...like me." She lowered her voice even further as she spoke these last two words.

Wednesday stared at her. The familiarity of the girl's eyes made sense now. This child was also a Hyde. She reached forward on impulse and gripped the girl's hand.

"You'll find them someday," she said with quiet intensity. "The person who accepts you for who you are. Don't settle for anything less."

The girl nodded. There were tears in her eyes, but her smile was radiant. "Thank you."

Wednesday signed the book with a flourish and the girl left, clutching the autographed novel to her chest like it was made of solid gold. She sighed inwardly as yet another squealing child approached her table. Oh yes, Tyler owed her dearly for this.

. . . . . . . . . . . .

"Wednesday!" Tyler rushed forward and drew her into a long kiss. Even after all this time, the sensation of his lips on hers made her heart pound treacherously. "You were brilliant up there," he grinned. "How was the book signing?"

"Torturous," she replied. "I am still deliberating on how to make you pay for it."

A smile spread over Tyler's face. "Is that so?" Experience had taught him that her methods of punishment-though creative-were hardly unenjoyable. Still, she couldn't afford to think of that now. Turning red would only hinder the dignified air of offense she was trying to project.

With an effort, she forced her mind back to the present. "There was an interesting development, however."

Tyler listened, eyes brightening, while she told of her encounter with the young Hyde girl. "That's fantastic, Wednesday," he said excitedly. "This means that it's working."

"It would seem so."

She had originally published her journal within the outcast community shortly after graduating from Nevermore. Her work had been well-received, and she had even been awarded the Mary Shelley Young Writer's Award that year.

However, Tyler had worried that the exclusivity of the outcast community meant that some people with the Hyde would miss hearing about their discovery. It had been his idea to adapt the journal into a novel that would appeal to a larger audience. To most readers, The Jekyll to My Hyde would simply be an entertaining fantasy book, but the true message would be clear to those with the Hyde.

"I'm proud of you," Tyler said. "Your book is saving lives...and who knows?" He rested his hand lightly on her stomach. "It might even save our little girl someday."

Wednesday laid her hand over his. "Perhaps."

Her pregnancy had been a surprise to everyone, with the exception of her mother. She had purportedly seen a vision of Wednesday and Tyler with an infant years ago-during their first trip to Transylvania together. Wednesday wasn't far enough along to know the gender yet, but Tyler already insisted on calling her 'little girl' because her mother claimed the child would be female.

Wednesday had never considered herself the motherly type, yet she found herself looking forward to meeting the child. This was her and Tyler's offspring, after all. Regardless of what combination of genetics the child received, they would be better off than the majority of the population.

Nevertheless, she wished there was a way to erase the infuriatingly satisfied smile that her mother always seemed to wear recently. It was humiliating to look back and realize that she had known all along what the future held. How amusing it must have been for her to watch Wednesday flounder around and make a fool of herself in those early days.

Tyler's voice drew her out of her reverie. "Are you hungry?"

"Ravenous," she replied. She had put little stock in the rumors about 'eating for two' before she became pregnant. Now there were times she was convinced she was the host body of an all-consuming parasite rather than a human infant.

"Well then, what do you say we get out of here, Mrs. Jekyll?"

Her lips curved into the small smile that she reserved only for him. "I suppose that would be tolerable, Mr. Hyde."

Her hard stance against appellations had weakened over the years. She and Tyler had several nicknames for each other, but they were perfectly reasonable. Not at all like the abhorrent ones her parents used. She had already made Pugsley vow that if she and Tyler started sounding like that, he was to end her miserable existence immediately.

As she and Tyler walked, hand in hand, to the parking lot, she pondered-not for the first time-the irony of her life. Her master plan from all those years ago had come to fruition. She was a successful writer and had published her first work at an even younger age than Mary Shelley. She had earned renown and rewards, and a good bit of wealth besides.

But all of that paled in comparison to Tyler. Binding her life to his was-and always would be-her greatest accomplishment. That didn't mean she didn't appreciate the renown and wealth, however. She might be in love, but she hadn't become witless.

Tyler glanced down at her with a sly smile. "So-have you decided on my punishment yet?"

She tried to muster a glare, but she knew she was red to the roots of her hair. Love hadn't made her witless, she thought stubbornly. Not completely, anyway.

~Author's note~
I'm sorry for the late upload but i've been pretty busy with school these days 737
Anyways,as you could probably tell,this is the end of the story!:)
I'm very thankful for all of the people who stayed around and read this✨️🩷
I really hope you enjoyed it and until I decide to write another book (which I don't know if it's going to happen) this is a goodbye😘🫶🏻