Chapter 14 - The Addams Family
"Mon Cher, your mortal beauty fascinates me this morning, as it did the day before and all the infinite days to come." Wednesday heard her father say and felt like throwing up everything she had eaten. Fortunately, her grandmother's horrible food helped keep the contents of her stomach in place.
Suddenly, the eldest daughter of the Addams family heard heavy, staggering footsteps, quickly identifying the family butler approaching.
And that's exactly what happened. He entered the dining room with his clumsy gait. His impressive height of two meters and five centimeters drew attention. His sparse, damp hair was stuck to his narrow, flat, pale head, and his skin resembled candle wax. One of his eyes was opaque, indicating blindness.
The butler looked more like a zombie than someone alive. But if you asked Wednesday, Lurch could run faster than any living creature when necessary.
On noticing the butler's arrival, Morticia stopped her flirtations in French, she reluctantly turned her eyes away from her husband's loving gaze and fixed them on Lurch's body, who was dressed in his classic butler's suit. His dark eyes were like black holes, absorbing all the light around them.
"Is there a problem, Lurch?" she asked in a soft, icy voice, reminding Wednesday of a serene, cloudless night.
"Letter..." Lurch replied in his slow, drawn-out voice. All the family's eyes focused on the letter the butler was holding.
Wednesday noticed the red wax seal that sealed the letter: a skull with a crown above it, surrounded by flowers that wrapped around it like a mantle.
The Agrece House.
The name popped into Wednesday's mind when she saw the coat of arms. Her cousins on her mother's side, who was, by right, a true bastard of House Agrece.
Wednesday's dark eyes turned to her grandmother: old, hunchbacked, with thinning white hair. It seemed that all the moisture had drained out of her, as her skin was completely wrinkled.
Perhaps her grandmother had been a beauty in her youth, capable of seducing the old duke, but she definitely wasn't anymore. Something that intrigued Wednesday deeply. Witches didn't usually age so easily.
Her grandmother's old age was suspicious and she gave herself a mental note to look into it another day.
Wednesday then watched her mother smile happily at the arrival of the letter from her relatives in England, which was understandable. Although she wasn't officially recognized as part of the family, the Agrece's hadn't neglected her mother's upbringing. On the contrary, she lived like a true princess, only without the aristocratic title.
But for the first time in her life, Wednesday saw her mother's smile disappear in a mere instant. A cold, intense gaze took over her beautiful face, and a murderous aura hung around her. Shadows and darkness stirred in response to the anger emanating from her mother.
It was the first time Wednesday had seen her display such a deadly expression and presence. And although she was reluctant, she couldn't help but admire the strength of the woman in front of her.
One of the most influential and powerful women in the world, not a cloyingly loving housewife to her husband as she seemed to be most of the time.
"Is everything all right, Mon Cher?" Gomez, a tall, handsome man with slicked-back black hair and an elegant moustache, asked as he held his wife's hand.
Gomez Addams, her father and her mother's personal knight.
Morticia squeezed her husband's hand tightly, her black eyes burning with a murderous look as she finished reading the letter.
Alastor was marked as Consort of the Crimson Moon.
The last sentence struck Morticia deeply. The image of her beloved sister flashed through her mind for a brief moment. Just imagining that her sister's living memory was threatened by a cursed Outer Goddess, the desire to invade the Astral World and cut down that arrogant bitch with her scythe consumed her heart.
"My nephew is in danger, Gomez." Morticia's expression softened into sadness as she leaned on her husband, although her voice remained cold and imbued with a murderous fury. Anyone could imagine the fury burning in her chest.
"Don't worry, we'll help you." Gomez, even though he didn't know what the letter said, knew it was something serious when he saw his wife's drastic reaction after reading it. He hugged Morticia, offering consolation to his beautiful and beloved life partner.
Ten-year-old Wednesday, listening to her mother's words, couldn't help but be curious about her distant cousin's situation. What could make the legendary family of Grimms feel threatened?
Although curious, Wednesday didn't ask directly, she understood that her parents wouldn't let her get involved in this matter. Therefore, she was left with only one option - to steal the letter and see what it contained.
Turning her head, she looked at her younger brother, a look of disgust and coldness appearing on her pale, inexpressive face. Pugsley was eating like a pig, his mouth open as he gorged himself on his grandmother's horrible food.
He seemed insatiable, eating without stopping or showing any signs that he would stop any time soon.
"Should I try to kill him again?" Wednesday wondered, looking at her brother's table manners. It wouldn't be the first time or the last that she thought about killing her brother. Something she did almost daily had practically become a sport for her.
"But... he's going to help me steal the letter." She thought as she put the meat in her mouth with the help of her fork. An unpalatable, disgusting taste assaulted her senses, but she swallowed as normal as if she didn't taste it.
Suddenly, a hand went up on the table, its seams contracting, holding the pale, bloodless meat in place. That was it, just a hand with five apparently sentient fingers that could move on its own.
Thing. The Addams Family's pet.
Although Wednesday knew that Thing didn't like being considered a dog, but what rights would a sentient hand have?
Wednesday watched coldly as Thing walked around the table and climbed onto her mother's shoulder to read the letter in her hands. If you were wondering how a hand without eyes could read, hear or even feel anything, she didn't know the answer either. Thing had always been a mystery in the Addams family.
However, with Thing reading the letter, she now had another option instead of sneaking into her parents' room and stealing the letter.
"I've finished eating." Getting up from her chair, Wednesday spoke and left without waiting for her mother and father to reply. She went upstairs while her black eyes seemed full of cunning and coldness.
In the night, when everyone was asleep, Wednesday, who was lying straight with her hands folded across her chest, opened her eyes and stood up. The moonlight shone through the shutters like tentacles of light, partially illuminating the room.
"You crazy bitch, I swear I'll kill you!!! I'll cut off your limbs and feed them to the dogs!!!"
Hearing the curses, Wednesday's eyes fell on the red-haired doll with numerous scars on its face, which was screaming uncontrollably curses, insults and threats. The doll had its head stuck in a real guillotine, but smaller in size.
Was there anything more fun than chopping the heads off your dolls?
With a sadistic smile playing on her black lipstick-stained lips, she activated the guillotine, cutting off the head of the cursed doll containing the soul of a serial killer. It all happened in an instant and the head rolled to the floor.
Feeling satisfied, Wednesday left the room, her black dress with white skulls embroidered on the fabric moving along with her movements.
In the corridor, Wednesday stepped onto the polar bear rug, still alive, even though there were no organs or blood left in its body. Behind the wall, eyes seemed to stare at her with a cold, murderous gaze. There was talking armor on the walls and huge spiders walking on the ceiling. This was Addams Mansion, a rather frightening place for most people, but a warm and welcoming home for the Addams.
Stopping in front of a bedroom, Wednesday opened the door, a loud creak sounded as it swung open, revealing a dusty room.
Stepping inside, her eyes quickly settled on the dirty bed pillow, a hand seemed to be sleeping on it.
Approaching, Wednesday looked coldly at Thing, completely defenceless, sleeping peacefully, unaware of the danger it was in at the moment.
Picking up the pillow carefully so as not to wake Thing, she walked with the pillow in her arms back to her room.
Rolling a leather parcel onto her desk, Wednesday smiled at the sight of the silver torture tools.
"Wake up." Turning to look at Thing, Wednesday spoke with a cold tone while holding a scalpel.
Thing, who was fast asleep, woke up almost instantly when he heard Wednesday's voice. The poor hand trembled with its five fingers looking at the scalpel in her young lady's hands.
He began to speak in sign language.
[What's going on?]
"You know what I want." Approaching him, Wednesday clasped his hand and touched it with the tip of the scalpel. "So, do you talk or would you like to be tortured? I prefer the latter, after all, an evening's entertainment is always pleasant."
Thing, without any hesitation, said everything he knew.
Showing an expression of disappointment at how easy it was to extract the information she wanted, Wednesday looked with silent dissatisfaction at Thing, but remained silent, watching her answer.
"Interesting... my cousin is certainly in trouble. Imagine being considered the Consort of the Crimson Moon, one of the Five Princes of Chaos." Wednesday muttered to herself with a look full of interest. She really wanted to meet her cousin right now.
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