| chapter one | chapter two | chapter three | chapter four | chapter five | chapter six | chapter seven | chapter eight | chapter nine | chapter ten | chapter eleven | chapter twelve | chapter thirteen | chapter fourteen (you’re here) | chapter fifteen (coming soon…) |
Series Summary: The year is 1467, and you, the princess of Transylvania, fall in love with a lord; a clever, handsome young man. Your love was great and your bond unbreakable, but fate demands tragedy, and the love of your life gets killed before your very eyes. Devastated and driven by rage, you search for your beloved for five hundred years. At Nevermore Academy in Jericho, you are to find him, and his name— Isaac Night.
Pairing: Isaac Night x vampire!Reader
Word count: 5200 words
Series Warnings: fem!Reader, no descriptions of the reader, fluff falling in love, romance, angst, violence, tragedy, a bit of religious themes (only up to chapter four), fic starts in the Middle Ages, ooc Isaac at first, major character death, an animal getting hurt, brief allusions to intimacy, blood, murder, background original characters (platonic), humor, yearning, minor character death, consuming blood, grief, inspired by Dracula A Love Tale, no mentions of Y/N
Notes: A lot of Isaac and Reader interaction in this one 🖤 English isn’t my first language.
Chapter Fourteen: Lies and Deceit
Isaac could not trust his own eyes. Eyes that had never failed him before. The small image tucked inside your locket depicted him. But that couldn't be. The paper was thoroughly yellowed and slightly torn at the edges. The fine brushstrokes had faded, yet he still saw his own face staring back at him, as if in a mirror.
A few dark, slightly curly strands of hair fell across the young man’s face in the picture, yet his eyes remained clearly visible. They were as dark as the night sky, though the glimmers of light reflecting within them made them shine like two bright stars that were surrounded by pools of darkness. A scattering of freckles dotted the bridge of his nose, and small laugh lines crinkled around his thin lips, which were curved into a gentle smile. He rarely smiled like that these days. It was a portrait, so Isaac could not see what the young man was wearing. However, the definitive sign, the one that made the metal heart in his chest skip a beat, was the small mole on the left side of his chin. It was the exact same one, in the exact same spot.
This had to be a trick. It couldn't be anything else. And did you really think he would fall for such a cheap lie?
"It’s a trick," he finally said, his eyes never straying an inch from the open amulet hovering just a few centimeters above his palm. The fingers of his right hand trembled ever so slightly, which was something that an untrained eye would never have noticed. You noticed it, though. Of course you did.
"It’s not, Isaac," you replied gently. Slowly and cautiously, you took a step toward him, as if approaching a frightened wild creature. He already mistrusted you as it was and if you weren't careful, you could lose him forever. That, under no circumstances, could be allowed to happen. You wanted him to look at you again the way he had back then, when the heat of the summer sun on your faces and the breaking of old rules were your only concerns. "This portrait was painted by my own hand five hundred years ago, and for just as long, I have carried it with me. It is authentic."
"That’s impossible. It would have faded long ago," he spat, shaking his head with firm conviction. The sudden movement sent strands of his slightly damp hair tumbling wildly across his forehead. Some even fell over his eyes, obscuring your view of them. Yet, despite it all, he seemed unable to tear his gaze away from his own likeness.
"I have always cared for it well, applying fresh paint throughout the centuries. And still, it looks exactly as it did back then," you explained in a calm, compassionate tone. You refrained from mentioning that you had had it professionally restored in 1856, for even with your talent, the paint had faded too much to be salvaged. The woman who had undertaken this task for you had managed to recreate it so perfectly that you had subsequently gifted her an estate and a stable of horses. Your gratitude had known no bounds back then. As far as you knew, the house and the restoration business remained in the proud possession of her family to this day.
Night shook his head once more, letting the amulet settle into the palm of his hand before snapping the lid shut; he gripped it so tightly with his fingers that you could hear the metal creak. The caramel-brown of his eyes had darkened almost completely like the sky just before a storm sweeps across the land. Yet, despite it all, you took another step closer to him, until your body nearly brushed against his. A floorboard creaked beneath your boots, and the golden bead, which had fallen into a crack moments earlier, now rolled further down into the depths of the floorboards. "I have waited an eternity for this moment," you began, your eyes shining with excitement. "For the moment when I could finally—"
"You’re lying!" he shouted. It was so loud that, in fact, it stole your breath for a moment. The light in your gaze dimmed slightly as you were once again confronted with the reality that this Isaac was not the same man you had once known and loved so deeply. Yet, despite everything, you still loved him. You had to, didn't you? He looked exactly the same, and surely his soul must still be the same, too. If you didn't love him just as much, then five hundred years of waiting would have been in vain. And if he didn't return your love, your world would shatter.
"I’m not lying, Isaac, I—"
"It can only be a lie!" he interrupted you again, and you feared for the safety of the necklace clutched in his right hand. He held it so tightly that you could clearly see the knuckles of his hand pressing through his already pale skin. "What is it you want to tell me? That I existed once before? That I was reborn? Such things don’t exist. It is scientifically impossible.”
“Is that why it scares you so much?” you countered, taking another step toward him. Contrary to your expectations, Isaac didn’t take a step back; instead, he remained rooted firmly to the spot, as if he had fallen into a trance or a state of utter disbelief.
“I’m not scared.” His answer was forced out through clenched teeth. He was clenching his jaw so tightly that you could see the tension etched across his face.
“Yes, you are.” You cautiously raised one of your hands toward him, but he immediately intercepted your wrist with his left hand. His fingers dug so hard into your skin that you had to stifle a whimper.
“It’s a trick. Nothing more, nothing less,” he hissed down at you, but you wouldn’t let up. He was already emotionally wound tight. You had to find a way somehow to make him remember you. To make him look at you, just this once, with the same eyes he had back then, even if only for a single second. That one moment, no matter how brief, would undo all the years you had wasted waiting. It would fill your world once more and mend the cracks in your heart that have formed each year of your life.
“It’s not, Isaac,” you insisted, finally reaching out your other hand toward him as well. Before he could grab that one, too, you placed it against his cheek at which he immediately flinched away.
“Don’t touch me,” he said instantly. Under normal circumstances, you would have immediately let go, begged for his forgiveness, and left the lab, but in this situation, you simply couldn’t bring yourself to do it. Not when you were so close to your goal. A single memory of you and the love you had once held for each other would be enough. Your fingers found his cheek once more, and you stroked his cool skin with your thumb and forefinger. His skin was, despite its coolness, still warmer than your own. He was tense, his eyes wide with shock, yet you did not let go of him. His fingers were still digging into the skin of your wrist. His fingernails would likely leave small, bloody marks behind, but you would accept even that— for him.
"Look at me, Isaac, please!" you pleaded, a plea reflected in both your voice and your expression. Your eyes were filled with pain and with the desperate hope that the man you loved so dearly would return to you, even if only for a single moment. "Look into my eyes, into my soul. Eyes never lie."
Ultimately, it was that boundless conviction in your eyes that compelled him to heed your words. Night’s brown eyes met yours, and he could feel a weight that felt to him like a heavy burden lift from his shoulders. From the very first moment he had seen you sitting on that bench with your dreadful cousin beside you something about you had felt so terribly familiar. He hadn’t been able to explain it. Although, it was your eyes, above all else, that had felt familiar to him, giving him the distinct impression that you had met before. But that couldn't be true. He knew no vampires personally, and he had certainly never seen you before. He would have remembered someone like you; for, even if his opinion of you had wavered, you were undeniably a beautiful woman.
Isaac looked down at you, and suddenly, it felt as though the world around him had begun to spin. His laboratory, his work, his life’s work, and the cure for his beloved little sister, it all began to blur and dissolve around him. The only thing he could still see with perfect clarity was you. Yet even you were slowly beginning to change. The elegant vampire vanished, and in your stead, he beheld a beauty before him that he could not describe in words. Your hair was longer now, cascading down your body like a veil. Resting upon the crown of your head was a diadem, which was crafted from shining white pearls, that encircled your brow. Three round pearls and one oval one draped across your forehead, coming to rest precisely in the center, between your eyebrows. In place of the Nevermore school uniform, your body was clad in an elegant gown of velvet and silk. The color was a pale blue— one that appeared almost silver— while the intricate details adorning your sleeves and neckline were a delicate shade of violet. You looked like a princess straight out of a fairy tale.
"My beloved..." Your voice was as gentle as a lover's caress and more beautiful than any song he had ever heard. He leaned down toward you. A faint smile blossomed upon your lips, and your wrist slipped from his grasp. As if in a dream, his fingers brushed softly against your cheek. The tip of his nose nearly touched yours, and your lips, too, were but a breath away from each other.
"My princess" That title of yours, which had also once been one of his pet names for you, stumbled quietly from his lips. A smile spread across your entire face, but before he could lean down toward you any further, the locket suddenly slipped from his right hand and struck the floor with a loud thud. The sudden shock made him flinch, and the trance was broken. Night recoiled from you, immediately pulling away and stumbling several steps backward.
What had just happened? He didn't understand it.
The laboratory surrounding him, which had always been his second home and his sanctuary, suddenly felt cold and stifling. And there you stood, in the very center of everything Isaac held sacred. Your presence felt like a bright ray of sunlight he could not escape. You looked normal again. No longer a princess from ages past, but simply a vampire. The one who surely intended to manipulate him. It could be nothing else. He was more certain than ever that you were trying to twist him around your pretty little fingers to seduce him solely to get at his blood. What else could someone like you possibly want, someone whose very existence depended on blood?
"What was that just now?" he asked you, wiping a hand across his face as if he had just woken from a deep slumber and was struggling to clear his head. "What did you do?"
You immediately shook your head, for even you didn't know exactly what had just transpired. One moment he had been distant and aloof; the next, he had looked at you as if you were once again the most important thing in his world and he had even addressed you by your old title. Not in that cold, dismissive manner he had adopted of late, but as if he truly knew you again. You had no interest in the locket lying on the floor just then. Not after he had looked at you so wonderfully, if only for a moment. You wondered what it was he had seen.
"I didn't do anything at all," you defended yourself immediately. "You suddenly seemed different, as if you were dreaming. As if you were in a trance. It wasn't me, in case that's what you're thinking."
"But you must have done something!" he retorted, raising his voice. "Ever since you came to this school, I’ve suddenly felt different, and I can't explain it! Gomez keeps trying to convince me it’s a crush, but I don't believe it. I look at you and I feel..."
He faltered, and you could feel your heart pounding harder and harder within your chest. Given your vampiric nature, you ought to have been stone-cold dead, but that was just one of the many misconceptions people held about vampires. Your condition didn't make you dead. On the contrary, you were more alive than ever. After all, naturally born vampires weren't dead simply because they were born with sharp fangs and a thirst for fresh blood. It was merely one of those terrible Normie lies that were spread to fuel hatred against Outcasts and justify hunting them down. Your heart was still beating and, above all, it was beating for him.
"You feel...?" you asked him cautiously, wanting him to finish his sentence. All that strange rivalry in the classroom over grades, which, in the end, were nothing more than numbers on a piece of paper that wouldn't stand the test of time anyway. Combined with the fact that he usually preferred to keep his distance from you, now suggested to you that perhaps there wasn't any hatred there after all. He simply didn't understand the effect you had on him.
"I feel a connection I can't explain. And I hate things I can't explain through science. It eludes me. And that is why I want you to stay away from me," he finally replied, resting the tip of his leather boot upon your amulet, which lay on the ground. Your breath caught in your chest, and your eyes widened.
“Isaac, please, let me explain—”
The metal creaked as he shifted even more of his weight onto his left foot. He couldn't possibly guess how important this amulet was to you, yet you didn't want to lunge at him and snatch the locket away, as that might send the wrong signal. He might think you were attacking him and that was something you simply couldn't let happen.
“Please, please, stop!” you begged him quickly, reaching a hand out toward the broken necklace, which was straining under increasing pressure with every passing second. “It is the only thing that still truly connects me to him. To you.”
“But that was not me,” Isaac countered without hesitation. “The person you’re talking about is not me, and it never will be.”
“But it is you. Look at the picture again. Look at the facts. The connection you feel to me, those brief visions you’re having... I loved you once, Isaac Night, and I always will. My love for you knows no age, no end, and no bounds.” He deliberately shook his head in response to your words.
He stared fixedly at the dark brown wooden floorboards that served as the flooring for your laboratory. But you weren't finished yet. "Five hundred years ago, I met a wonderful young man beneath a willow tree. He invented the very first telescope. He was so brilliant and talented that my love for him blossomed almost instantly. He felt the same way about me. We were inseparable and planned to marry. It wouldn't have been long before I became his bride, but then famine struck a neighboring village, and war swept across our land. He died in battle, there in my arms. I loved him so deeply that I renounced God and accepted my eternal fate as a creature seeking blood and vengeance. I did not give up. Instead, I spent every single day searching for him for half a millennium. Searching for you. For Isaac Night."
Your eyes were filled with longing and hope as you waited for any kind of reaction from him. Stray strands of his curly, dark hair fell across his forehead, obscuring your view of his beautiful eyes— the windows to his soul. Slowly, he lifted his foot and placed it down beside the locket. Without hesitation, you closed the remaining distance between you and knelt down on the old floorboards to retrieve your most cherished necklace. He didn't move an inch, yet you could feel his gaze boring into your mind. His hands were clenched into fists, although this time it was not out of anger, but because he evidently didn't know what else to do with them. Carefully, you raised your head and looked up at him, immediately feeling a flush of heat creep up the back of your neck. You had never seen him from this angle before, but it was, without a doubt, a sight that was more than pleasing to behold.
His onyx eyes met yours, and perhaps for the first time without the aid of any visions that seemed to plague him whenever he was near you, his expression was gentle. It reminded you of that quiet moment you had shared by the lake, when everyone else had been busy splashing one another with water. The cool metal of your amulet served as a pleasant distraction, grounding you firmly in the here and now and shielding you from losing yourself in a daydream. A faint gasp escaped your lips as the fingers of his right hand suddenly danced through a strand of your hair. The touch was feather-light, drawing you in as irresistibly as a flame lures a moth. You couldn't help but turn your face slightly toward him, hoping to feel his touch against your cheek.
"Please," you whispered so softly that the sound was nearly drowned out by the constant hum of the machinery in the background and the creaking of the old wood and yet he heard you nonetheless. Gentle as the kiss of a soft breeze on a sunny day, his fingertips brushed against the softness of your blushing cheeks.
A sudden clearing of a throat, which amidst the intimacy of the moment felt like a clap of thunder, caused you both to spring apart. Isaac quickly took a few steps back, while you scrambled to your feet as fast as you could. With one hand, you brushed the dust from your skirt, while with the other, you clutched your amulet tight. The intruder stood not far from you, beside one of the metal pillars that supported the Iago Tower.
"Professor Stonehearst," Isaac greeted his mentor, clearing his own throat in turn. "I didn't hear the elevator at all."
"Because I took the stairs this time. The body gets older, and I have to keep myself fit somehow, after all," replied the teacher, the one you couldn't bring yourself to look in the eye. Not after the conversation you’d had just half an hour ago. He had suspected all along that you would try to seduce Isaac, but now— after you had just denied his accusation— he had found you kneeling in Isaac’s lab, with Night’s hand resting against your cheek. Anyone stumbling upon such a scene without context would surely imagine a very different situation that was far more intimate and perverse in nature. Good God, he probably even believed that such a situation had occurred before.
"I didn't expect you to have guests today," Stonehearst remarked as he took a few steps closer to you both. One of his hands was buried deep in his trouser pocket, while the ticking watch on his waistcoat swung back and forth with every stride. "Did you forget about our appointment?"
"No, Professor," Night answered quickly, his hands clasped behind his back. You blinked cautiously to the side and saw the tension etched on his face: his shoulders were rigid, and his thumb toyed with the silver signet ring on the little finger of his right hand. The older man had been presented to you as his mentor, but the more you observed, the more you suspected that there was something more going on here than met the eye. Earlier, Stonehearst had mentioned that Isaac owed him something, but what is it? What could a brilliant eighteen-year-old student possibly owe to a learned, middle-aged professor? You had a distinct feeling it had something to do with the experiments he seemed to be conducting here day in and day out. Experiments that even kept him from sleeping in his own dorm room like a normal human being.
"You could have told me you had a date." Stonehearst’s voice was as slimy as his inner nature, and his pale eyes sparkled with an almost playful malice. "And with such an enchanting lady, no less— Nevermore‘s very own Transylvanian Princess."
"It wasn't a date," Isaac retorted quickly, though he still avoided meeting his gaze. "She merely came to me to ask for assistance. Her medallion had broken, and a man of my talents was required to repair it."
Stonehearst took another step toward the two of you, then turned his attention to you. Your eyes met his, and for a fleeting moment, you felt as though you were facing an old adversary. There was no trace of sympathy in his gaze, only a gloating interest in teasing you and, perhaps, publicly humiliating you in front of him. He knew what you were. He knew you were a vampire of the elder generation, yet he still had the audacity to act as if you couldn't simply grab him and sink your fangs into the side of his neck. The trouble was, he knew perfectly well that you wouldn't do that and therein lay the crux of the matter. He was a prominent professor, highly regarded by the DaVincis, who had also not so very long ago opened a new psychiatric facility. If he were to suddenly vanish, it would raise a great many questions.
“May I take a look? Perhaps I, too, could offer my assistance?”
Your fingers tightened around the locket, and you quickly shook your head: “No, that… that won’t be necessary, I think.”
“But it’s still broken, is it not?” His question came swiftly, as if he had already known you would decline his initial offer.
“Yes, it is, but Isaac will take another look at it another day. It’s not urgent.”
“Is it not?” He tilted his head slightly to the side, taunting you. “Just half an hour ago in the headmaster’s office, it hung around your neck. Now it is broken, which implies that, immediately after this mishap occurred, you rushed straight to my star pupil. That strikes me as rather urgent, wouldn’t you agree?”
“Professor, if I may interject—”
“No, my boy, not now,” Augustus interrupted Isaac instantly. “I’ll get to you in a moment, but first, I would like the lady to take her leave. Our project is strictly confidential, and we have no need for a blood-sucking princess stealing your attention.”
Isaac nodded submissively, yet when his dark eyes met yours, you could see everything that words currently failed to convey. He did not want you to go. Nor did he want you to hand the locket over to him, for this secret was a matter that concerned only the two of you. He was trapped in the Professor’s clutches, and something told you that he, too, wished he could break free of them. But why did he allow himself to be used by him like this? It simply made no sense to you yet, as you lacked the necessary knowledge to piece the puzzle together.
Your name, falling from Night’s lips, suddenly seized your attention once more like a sudden bolt of lightning striking an empty field. "I think it would be better if you left."
"But—"
He spoke your name again, though this time with a little more emphasis. His gaze never wavered from yours, and you could feel an invisible force that felt like a serpent coiling around you gently nudging you toward one of the many exits of Iago Tower. "Go see Francoise. She would really like to speak with you."
With Stonehearst looking at you as if you were the very incarnation of the plague and Isaac Night already using his powers to urge you toward the door, you really had no other choice. The two of them obviously had something to discuss, and— curious as you might be— you didn't want to spend another second in Stonehearst's presence. You nodded, offering him a gentle, sincere smile before quickly turning around and hurrying toward the elevator. You remembered exactly where it was, as it had been your exit the last time you were here, too. The metal cage hadn't yet reached the floor by the time you rounded the corner and you pressed the small white button that would summon the elevator upwards.
Down below, the metal creaked loudly as the old elevator sprang into motion, slowly ascending toward the floor where you were waiting for it. But while you waited, you caught the faint sound of two voices that seemed to be engaged in a heated conversation. Quietly and cautiously, you crouched down. Under the cover of the elevator’s loud squealing, you crept back to the corner so you could hear what they were saying. You were curious, and you could certainly wait for a bit longer at least until the elevator reached your floor. It was just important that they wouldn’t spot you.
“She’s manipulating you,” you heard Stonehearst’s voice say with intense conviction. Your eyes narrowed in response, and you pressed yourself even closer to the corner to better hear what Isaac had to say to that. More than anything, you wanted to see his reaction. Especially now that he had gotten to know you a little better and you had been able to reveal a portion of the truth to him. He didn’t know everything yet, of course, but he should certainly be aware of your boundless love for him by now.
“I don’t think that’s her intention,” his favorite student replied with a sigh. You imagined him running a hand, presumably his right one, through his hair, while his mentor scrutinized him with a critical gaze.
“Then what do you think she’s doing here? Constantly pestering you, stalking you, and now I even find her on her knees right there in front of you.” The more the man spoke, the more his voice took on a hiss that resembled a cunning serpent coiling around its prey with its own sly manipulation. “My boy, if she is assaulting you, I can have her permanently expelled from the school and placed under arrest.”
“It wasn’t what it looked like, Augustus,” Night countered in return. Your eyebrows rose in surprise when he addressed the man by his first name. You couldn't help but wonder just how deep the bond between the two of them ran, and how long their partnership already lasted. And what on earth could Isaac possibly owe him?
“So, what did happen here? Talk to me. If you still want my help saving your sister, you have to talk to me. You need the resources I can provide, and I need your gift and your intellect.”
The elevator was almost there, the sound of groaning metal drawing closer and closer, yet you still wanted to hear what the two of them were saying. You could feel that you were so close to the answer and that once you had it, you would understand Isaac even better. He deserved to be understood, not used. Your plan to seduce him at the upcoming Rave’N Ball, which, hopefully, wouldn't be cancelled, slowly began to crumble like a fragile house of cards. Seduction was the last thing you wanted to inflict upon him right now. No, it would be so beautiful if he were to actually fall back in love with you, just as he had back then, and if your love could be real once more. There should be no room for lies or deceit between you.
“She showed me something I don't understand. I’m confused, and... I’m afraid. Afraid for Francoise. If my focus wavers, I won't be able to save her, but I must, because I gave her my word. I can't let her die when I’m this close to solving the puzzle. The machine is almost ready. All I need now is a power source,” Isaac explained to him, the raw emotion in his voice shattering your heart into a thousand pieces. He had let down the icy wall he usually wore like a shield. and even though those words weren't directed at you personally, you understood their true significance. Isaac Night was anything but heartless. He was a loving brother who would stop at nothing to save his sister from the tragic fate that would one day befall every Hyde and unfortunately it was precisely in the midst of this struggle that you entered his life and turned everything upside down.
All because you couldn't wait. Because you simply had to rush to him the moment Alejandro sent you that letter containing the photograph.
The old elevator came to a sudden, jarring halt, the jolt being so loud that it made you flinch. Reluctantly, you finally turned away from the conversation and stepped inside. You pulled the gate shut with one hand, while the other was still tightly clutching your damaged locket, and pressed the button to set the elevator in motion once more. As the cabin began to descend with a shaky lurch, you leaned your head against the cool iron bars of the protective gate. So much had transpired in that last half-hour that it left your head throbbing and sent your thoughts spiraling. You had to think about everything and reflect on your next steps.
You should speak with Francoise. That should be your primary objective for now, even though you still didn’t feel ready to see her again just yet. The pain she had inflicted on you was still too fresh in your mind‘s eye.
"Has she already crept into your cold heart? Has she already infected your thoughts, like a parasite?" Stonehearst’s question to his favorite student was posed with gravity and for once without games, without circumlocution. "And what did she do to achieve that?"
A faint smile tugged at the corners of Isaac’s mouth. His gaze was fixed on the floor on one specific spot that, fortunately, the Professor had not yet noticed. Just around the corner— where you had vanished moments ago to exit his laboratory— lay a single, small scrap of paper. It had just slipped from your hand, from the amulet you had failed to close after retrieving it from the floor. He subtly shifted a finger on his right hand, watching as the small drawing that depicted his five-hundred-year-old self, which was a notion he still struggled to accept. vanished beneath a crate of books he had borrowed from the Nevermore library less than a week prior. For now, it was safe there. Stonehearst would not find it.
"What was it?" Augustus asked again.
Isaac shrugged, as if stating a trivial fact: "She looked at me. That was all it took."
You had looked at him, and in doing so, awakened a part of him he hadn't even known existed until that very moment. Something ancient, something hidden. Something that had slumbered deep within him until the day you arrived at Nevermore with two suitcases, an old coat, and an insufferable cousin.
You had drawn Isaac Night into your orbit and in doing so, you became the first and only person to ever achieve such a feat, for a bond existed between you. Something ancient. Something fated.
And he was absolutely determined to uncover the truth behind this assumed reincarnation.
This is our take on the Nights in the '90s so far. We spent quite a while trying to match our schedules and catch the right weather for a photoshoot in the park. Everything turned out just fine, and we ended up with lots of photos and great memories. Beware, I’m going to spam
Dividers by @saradika-graphics & @somebitchprobably-graphicdump <3
Images from Pinterest :)
Icharus and his useless, cryptic secrets rattled obnoxiously in the mental space between Isaac's abstract mechanical recalibrations and his fatigue with the very prospect of addressing them. The stench of charred flesh still lingered nauseatingly in the air. The basement would smell like death for days to come. Then again, in all the time Isaac had occupied the dread place, had it ever smelled of anything fresher than decay?
The miasma of doom curling around him buzzed in dissonance with the eagerness emanating from his persistently present spirit guide. Icharus' lofty, ambiguous expectations were a distraction Isaac had no desire to pursue. Another distraction, one far more promising, beckoned him from from the work he had tired himself of wallowing in. Isaac glanced through the grimy protective glass to the iron door that hid you from view, insulated you from the horrors of his latest experiment.
Your cell had been sealed off for hours while LOIS swarmed with failure and the hurried footsteps of those tasked with cleaning up the predicted disaster. Isaac approached you slowly, hesitation weighing his departure from the refinement of his machine.
I should be working. I don't actually need her for anything. Progress should take priority over anything else. I should focus.
If only the will to direct his focus could force his tired mind to abandon the desire to wander. Reason stepped in to bolster his confidence in seeking reprieve. He knew only too well from past experience that overexertion wouldn't enable him to solve the problems at hand. Sometimes, a step back was more productive than a rush forward. Especially when the path ahead was blocked by brick walls at every turn.
You were unlikely to provide any means by which Isaac could advance his designs, but a means for him to forget them for a moment? Perhaps long enough to see them from a new angle when he returned to his toils? Now that, he thought, was something you could give him.
He opened the latch over your barred window, but you were nowhere to be seen. Panic, outrage and questions pulsed through him quick-fire as he wondered where you were. Had Stonehearst moved you in the pandemonium? Could he possibly have done so right under Isaac's nose, without him noticing? Was he that absorbed in the management of his machine, that he could have lost you without so much as an inkling of your departure?
Then he glanced down and realized he could see part of your huddled form, curled up at the base of the door. Your absence was merely a trick of perspective.
Isaac could have sighed his relief, but he swallowed the vulnerable sound before it could escape.
"You've been quiet in here for a long time," he observed.
The slight roll of your shoulders might have qualified as a shrug, but Isaac couldn't see enough of you to know for sure. He crouched and clanked open the slot where your meals made their dismal daily appearance. From this new angle, he was level with you. He could see you better now, if still not fully. His eyes interrogated yours, demanded a more concise explanation than the noncommittal motion you initially offered.
"Just thinking," you muttered, caving under the pressure of his intense gaze. "A lot has happened."
"Tonight, or in general?"
"General. Tonight... well. Both, I suppose. Hey, how much do you know about what happened between Icharus and Azalia?" you wondered.
Isaac grimaced.
"I was hoping you would take my mind off the ghosts, actually."
"Oh, so this is a social visit?" you teased.
"What else?"
"Fair."
Part of you wanted to resent him for taking advantage of your captive company, but the solitude of your confinement made a delicacy of his intrusion. You ignored Azalia's glowering while you indulged the mad scientist. You can imagine what she would say to you, were she so inclined to bother wasting her breath.
You should not be talking to him. Why do you play into his manipulations even after what I have shown you?
What Azalia couldn't seem to wrap her deceased head around was the idea that you had far more to gain from manipulating Isaac than the other way around. Though you'd scoffed at the joke he made about you seducing your way out of LOIS, you couldn't write off the possibility that you could charm him into freeing you.
Though escape, you knew, would be more complicated than a broken lock on the door that kept you contained. Willow Hill wouldn't surrender its prisoners so easily.
"Fine then, tell me about your latest experiment," you prompted, the very picture of graciousness.
"I'd almost rather talk about the ghosts than my work," Isaac grumbled.
"You're picky," you complained.
"Am I?"
"What else do you want to talk about, if not the most pressing mystery hanging over our heads or the death-trap sitting in the corner?"
"Tell me something inconsequential," Isaac requested. "I haven't seen a newspaper in a long time. Tell me about what the world's like these days."
A question so broad you had no idea where to start.
"You know, a decade doesn't change the world as much as you might think it would," you mused.
"That's disappointing. We didn't find life on another planet or cure cancer yet?" Isaac nudged.
"We probably did, but I bet the government is keeping both under wraps."
"That's crazy, why would they cover up the cure for cancer?"
"I doubt they would. I'm just being absurd," you admitted.
"Though the more I think about it... I could come up with a few plausible motives," Isaac observed, a shrewd look twisting his expression as his mind meandered through bizarre, unlikely hypotheticals. You laughed at him for switching sides so quickly.
"You're easy to distract," you realized.
"Only when I want to be," Isaac shrugged.
"You must be frustrated if you're looking for distraction," you reasoned. "You know, you could tell me what's eating you, instead of ignoring it and fishing blindly for something to occupy yourself with."
"Do you ever switch off investigator mode, or are you always digging for information?" he groaned.
"That's a cynical way to interpret my offer to listen while you unburden yourself."
"My burdens won't get any lighter just because I verbalize them."
The gray, coarse, shadowed prison seemed to agree with his statement. Your own accession must have shown on your face, because Isaac's expression softened in response.
"I guess I am cynical," he admitted unbidden.
"Given the circumstances, who could blame you?" you allowed.
"I was cynical even before I got myself into this mess."
Self-reflection rendered him distant while you studied the steep composition of his gaunt features. What little light lived in the LOIS basement was strange, harsh red and dull at the same time. Too dim to provide satisfactory lumination, eerily adept at casting the deepest of shadows with its shallow, reticent touch. Isaac looked as terrible in its sheen as he did otherworldly. A shiver ripped through you at the thought that he really did look like the devil in this light. Couldn't your dank prison be a ring of hell all its own, after all?
Azalia's aphoristic warnings were starting to unravel what scant sanity remained to you.
"I'm cynical enough to suspect... you're only humoring this conversation because you think I'll break you out of your cell if you ingratiate yourself with me," Isaac sighed woefully. He let his head fall back against the door with a dull thunk while his eyes searched the pocked concrete ceiling as if for a magical way out.
"I'm not so sure myself," you mused, defeated by his sharp perception. "I know better than to believe you would ever imperil Francoise for my sake. I might only be talking to you because it's keeping me from losing my mind down here in the dark."
"Sure, except there's a distinct possibility that freeing you would ensure her safety moreso than my loose grip on Judi's fickle good will," Isaac pointed out.
"If you want me to talk you into opening my cell, I'm sure I could come up with a pretty convincing argument," you chuckled wryly. "But I think we both know I wouldn't make it far after I got out of this damned basement. Don't forget about all the orderlies... plenty of locked doors. Armed guards, checkpoints. The front gate is nothing to shake a stick at. Miles of woods between the facility and Jericho..."
"You make it sound like such a long shot," Isaac mumbled dejectedly. "You got in here in the first place. Surely that means you must know a way out... a door that isn't watched as closely, a time when changing shifts cause some confusion, some loophole, some chink in Willow Hill's armor..."
Isaac sounded even more desperate than you, grasping at straws he already knew would all draw short.
"I had help. Help that's nowhere in sight now," you mourned. "Isaac, I... I do want to talk you into letting me go, I guess, but... I think we're both actually too smart to believe it would do either of us any good."
The realization was so bleak it stunned you both into silence for a while.
"Ulterior motives ruin everything," Isaac grumbled discontentedly at long last.
Dread gripped and fluttered in your chest at prospect of watching him walk away back to his work, of being left with only Azalia's tragic ghost and your own analytical thoughts for company.
"Forget the ulterior motives, then," you growled brusquely. "We were having a nice conversation before you made it cynical."
"Were we?" Isaac wondered drolly.
"Sure. You were just about to tell me why you think the government likes cancer," you reminded him.
The playful intention of your words fell flat. Your tone lacerated him with the poignance of your wish for him to stay a little longer. Isaac had been the one who first came to you for a distraction from captivity, but now you found yourself just as willing to indulge delusion as your fellow prisoner. His gaze darted between your shadowed, plaintive features and the machine that waited for his modifications to bring it closer to functionality.
"Well, it's all speculative, of course," Isaac sighed. Defeat and relief mingled together in his curt exhalation, strange bedfellows under the best of circumstances. "... but as usual, I would have to argue that corporations are the real villains behind the plot."
Your giggle of unhinged absurdity clattered away through the basement. You scooted a little closer and gratefully gave Isaac your full attention while he went on and Azalia lurked like a bad omen in the background.
"This place is bad enough without you sitting there glaring at me like I pissed in your coffee," you eventually snapped.
Isaac had long since retreated from the oasis of your company. You curled up on the thin cot once he left. Though hard and scruffy, it was still more comfortable than the cold stone floor, if not by a wide margin.
"Your mood would be dark as well, were you as doomed as I," Azalia seethed.
You rolled your eyes hard enough to make yourself dizzy.
"Just leave me alone, won't you?" you entreated.
"Oh, worry not, for surely you will find yourself rid of my counsel soon enough," Azalia threatened. "All in due time, when that menace you so enjoy flirting with sees fit to siphon your powers away from you... then I will be gone forever and I suspect you may at long last regret your short-sighted impudence."
"Siphon my power- Azalia, what power?!" you demanded abruptly.
You pushed yourself upright so you could direct the full force of your disdain at your spectral guide.
"My powers were as good as spent before I even set foot in this stupid asylum! The only visions I've had are the ones bleeding off Isaac and all his untapped potential! Or the pity parties you drag me into, as if I ever asked to see your sad, shitty origin story! I'll tell you what, even if I had any powers left, I wouldn't mind Isaac taking them off my hands! My powers have never done anything for me aside from-from make me useful to my stupid Dad, or give you an excuse to hang around haunting my life as if it's any of your fucking business whether or not I respect a gift I never fucking asked for!"
You heaved in the wake of your incensed outburst, fists clenched, teeth bared with vehemence while Azalia's scorn stared back at you, unwavering as ever. You didn't intend to give her time to reply, but you had to stop to catch your breath. Rather than respond to your spiteful tirade, she faded out of view without breaking eye contact until she vanished completely.
Your racing heartbeat pounded in your ears, ringing with the nerve of your self-righteous ancestor. You uncurled your fists because your nails were digging painfully into your palms, on the cusp of piercing the skin. You gazed blankly down at the indentations while silence gradually returned to your cell, arriving on the heels of your breaking point.
"Who could have known Azalia would be cursed with a descendant so much wiser than she?" mused a soft voice.
The hairs along the back of your neck pricked up with instinctive alarm. Glad as you were to have chased off your stubborn spirit guide, you were no more eager to engage with Isaac's. You held your tongue, measured your breaths and waited to see if he would go away on his own.
"You look so much like her," Icharus breathed over your shoulder, so close to your ear that you stiffened at the unwarranted intimacy of the pose. His hands hovered, immaterial, along your arms, suspended as though he was debating whether or not to touch you. "And yet... you could hardly be more unlike close-minded, idealistic little Azalia. I have been waiting for her to leave your side... waiting to find myself alone with you."
You shivered. His sinister intentions were palpable, paralyzing in the cramped cell.
"You ought to know a secret about ravens," Icharus went on while his fingers rehearsed the idea of contacting your skin. "Being one yourself, you would surely agree... second sight is a curse from which all ravens long to be freed."
Your shiver returned, deepened to a shudder that resonated through your very bones.
"The light and the dark in this world are two halves of the same veiled truth. Can you imagine a seer who could harness both?"
The glee in Icharus' voice made your flesh crawl, but you remained rooted in place. As far as you knew, he couldn't hurt you. Was he only here to gloat? To expound on a design that had died with him, only for Isaac to somehow revive his twisted ambitions after centuries?
"You know Isaac cares about psychic powers even less than I do," you pointed out. Your voice sounded high and thin, too tremulous for a woman who really believed the man behind her was merely an annoyance and not an entity capable of harm.
"Isaac will carry out my designs, whether he wants to or not," Icharus purred. "You scorn your ability regardless. Why let such talent go to waste? When it could be harvested instead... harnessed..."
Shockingly, his hands descended to brand your flesh with the ethereal chill of death. You had enough time to gasp, almost electrified by the freezing grip of the ghost bearing down over you. You wondered if he was going to shove a vision down your throat the same way Azalia had. What could Icharus possibly have to show you?
That same symbol danced and burned in your mind's eye. Your head throbbed and every breath you took felt like inhaling a mouthful of ice shavings. Your hands seemed to to move of their own accord, palms grazing in appraisal over the pale, rough stonework of your cell wall. Icharus' accord, you realized, was responsible for your movement.
You strained against his influence, but his will was an iron shackle around your volition. Ghostly murmurs filled your ears, inklings of his plans and presumptive, cackling celebrations of his anticipated success.
Your cries stuttered and dragged through the basement while Icharus scraped your knuckles against the stone hard enough to shred the thin, fragile skin. Your resistance to his influence made the process a slow one, but you couldn't break free. The battle consumed every ounce of your being and your entire world narrowed down to the ghostly imprints of Icharus' freeing hands clamped around your wrists.
Isaac was considering the merits of replacing an actuator when your screams interrupted the thoughtful silence enshrouding him and the indifferent company he kept. His head snapped up, alarm twisting his features while Stonehearst seemed baffled by his reaction.
"Isaac, m'boy, you were just saying-"
"Something's wrong!" Isaac snapped. He made briskly for your cell. His dragging chain weighed him down and slowed his progress while Stonehearst scowled at his quick retreat.
"The detective? She's fine, just venting, I'm sure," Stonehearst scoffed dismissively. "Come back and tell me-"
Isaac caught his first glimpse of Icharus forcing your hand and his blood ran cold.
"Hey! Stop that!" Isaac shouted.
"Isaac?" Stonehearst called, curiosity mixed with wariness spurring him to take a single step closer. "Stop what? What's she up to?"
"She's not- Damn it! Gus! Come unlock this damned door, quickly!" Isaac called desperately.
Your eyes were rolled so far back into your skull that only their whites were visible, straining with crimson while you resisted Icharus' compulsion. Spasms wracked your body while the spirit drove you to paint the wall with your own sluggishly seeping blood. Your struggle to overcome Icharus left you completely unresponsive to Isaac's panicked cries. Stonehearst meandered closer, craned his neck to survey what must have looked like pure madness to a man lacking the benefit of psychic sight.
"Good heavens, she's well and truly lost her mind, hasn't she?!" Stonehearst exclaimed. Amusement, rather than alarm, pitched his voice high in the excitement of the moment.
"She's not- she's-"
The realization that Stonehearst couldn't see Icharus in the slighest left Isaac fumbling helplessly for any constructive avenue of persuasion. Stonehearst recognized Isaac's dismay, but he also misattributed the source of his concern.
"Very well, I know you have some way for her to help with your research," Stonehearst sighed. "I'll be back with an orderly and a restraint. Don't get yourself too worked up in the meantime, m'boy."
Stonehearst clapped Isaac on the back and strode away while you convulsed and Icharus continued his bloody drawing. Isaac seethed, rage and frustration at his own impotence leaving him to rattle the bars of your cell door futilely.
"Icharus!" he growled, vying fervently for the spirit's attention. "Icharus, leave her alone! What the hell are you doing?! Get away from her!"
The ghost needed all of his focus to keep you held in thrall and Isaac managed to steal enough of his attention to allow you the foothold you needed to break free. You wrenched yourself physically from Icharus' unearthly grasp, all but flying to collapse in the corner of the cell farthest your tormentor. Irked, Icharus turned his scowl to Isaac.
"Why, I only seek to help her," he sneered. "Poor, damned little raven... if you cared for her a wit, Isaac, you would unburden her of her dread curse. Vision of doom, gloom and damnation... or would you rather let her suffer under their yoke?"
"You touch her again and I'll find a way to kill you a second time, you spineless bastard!" Isaac spat.
Icharus only smirked, his eyes darting once more to his crimson handiwork before he vanished. He left you cowering, Isaac raging and the wall dripping with red that formed a symbol you were sick of seeing by now.
I would love a fic or art or anything with the concept of Isaac being more like the original iteration of Thing*. Where he's just a guy who lurks and only shows one body part or his eyes at a time. Like imagine that after the explosion the Addams take him in and becomes a hermit and acts like the original iteration of Thing.
(Plus imagine reader visiting the Addams and finds gifts and chores done for them with Isaac hiding as he's too shy and too much of a hermit to talk to them like a normal person. So reader has to hunt him down and put together an image of Isaac in their mind from the parts of him they've seen.)
*"One of Addams' cartoons introduced a mysterious entity known only as The Thing, which was said to be too horrifying to be seen by human eyes. In contrast to the adaptations, the cartoon version of the Thing is actually a person of unknown origin, observing the household through slightly-opened doors and the balustrades, from around corners, and even beneath window sills with his face and hands clearly seen by the reader."
Same concept as a previous Isaac drawing… totally not because I couldn’t decide who to draw so drew both salamander Isaac and nailtrimmer man my beloved 💚
Might try and see about doing a split screen of Isaac | Nailtrimmer man
Same concept as a previous Isaac drawing… totally not because I couldn’t decide who to draw so drew both salamander Isaac and nailtrimmer man my beloved 💚
Might try and see about doing a split screen of Isaac | Nailtrimmer man
I’ve been just a scoshe obsessed with this particular photo recently. The unhinged smile, the black teeth, the uncanny joy. All of it is just really precious lol (also his sparse lil eyebrows)
Still a work in progress but was going for that Disney-esque cartoon style
I swear the world needed Professor Isaac! You're a true treasure to this fandom, thank you, thank you, thank you!! <333
Sweetie you have no idea how much I needed this tonight, thank you 🥹 I’ve been an anxious bean and this has picked me right up.
I’ve been working on pt.2 in the background and I’m hoping it will be out before the end of the week. A lil shorter this time, but still around 5k ish 🤭 it’s time to make him jealous with a tall blue-eyed golden retriever boy who fans of People we Meet on Vacation may recognise (because I needed to create a random guy and why not add another hottie)
