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Enid ignored the yowling of her brothers as she set her bags down beside her feet. It had been a very, very long semester, and her mother and father’s pressure was really starting to get to her. Her oldest brother, James, glared at the sleek black hearse that was coming up the street. “I still don’t trust her, ‘Nid.” She sighed, and shouldered the bag she was holding.
“I know, James. She’s just shy, you know that.”
“Wasn’t very shy after she threatened mom twenty-five times at dinner last fall.”
“That’s different.”
“Whyyyy are you leaving?” He rested his chin on her head with a pout, “with you here, mom doesn’t tell me to do stuff as much! She’s too busy yelling at you.”
“...Thanks.”
“Have fun with your murder girlfriend. Bring back a bone for me.”
She pushed him lightly, giving him a playful dirty look. But her eyes were tired. The last year had been hard on the girl and the only thing she looked forward to anymore was Addams. The 5’1” 17 year old who could single-handedly take on a gorgon. James was dumb, but he wasn’t stupid . Even he knew better than to fuck with Wednesday Addams. The car stopped and a door was opened. Enid took a deep breath and lifted up her bags.
“Bye Enid!” James called, her other brothers shouting beside him. “We love you!” He said, the youngest two making obnoxious kissing noises. She rolled her eyes, albeit slightly fondly, and stepped into the car. The inside was darker than she expected and she found herself sitting directly across from Wednesday. And on either side of Wednesday, were the girl's parents.
“Uh, howdy, Wednesday,” she said, Wednesday not looking up from the book she was reading. Enid peeked at the cover, “The Most Barbaric Acts In The Animal Kingdom.” Ah. Okay. She swallowed, holding one of her bags to her chest. The man and woman across from her stared, Wednesday looking up from her book after three minutes of awkward silence.
“Oh. Enid. These are my parents, Morticia and Gomez. You’ve briefly met them before. Mother, Father, this is Enid,” she said, her eyes sliding back towards the book, which Morticia slowly closed.
“Hi!” Gomez fixed her with a large grin, “I remember you! The tall werewolf with odd hair, yes!” Enid gave a smile back,
“That’s me!” She looked around, rather nervously, “where’s Thing?”
“Oh, he’s at home. Helping Grandmama,” Gomez said. “He’s told me all about you. Wednesday too,” He nudged the raven-haired girl, who looked up.
“Wednesday, either stab her or talk to her. We do not ignore,” Morticia spoke softly.
“Oh, your knives are still in the back, my little assassin,” Gomez said, “I suppose you’ll have to talk to her.” Wednesday crossed one leg over the other, turning her head towards the window after pulling a small journal out of her pocket. Enid knew what that journal was dedicated to. Mysteries. She felt like she was dating a detective sometimes. A very strange detective.
“Are all detectives strange?” She blurted out. Morticia’s gaze followed her daughter’s, Gomez meeting Enid’s eyes,
“What a marvelous question, girl! I have many stories of detectives I could tell you,” he began talking enthusiastically about past misadventures, Enid listening intently. He was just as gory and detailed as Wednesday, but his voice didn’t carry the same single tone. It was much more expressive. Speaking of expressiveness, Enid looked towards Wednesday’s mother, getting no acknowledgement in response. She occasionally added onto her husband’s stories with some equally disturbing detail. But she didn’t respond directly to Enid. She couldn’t read her at all. And Enid was used to being able to read people. She prided herself on the ability, in fact.
Wednesday’s hands slowly drifted towards her shut book, Morticia putting a hand in front of hers. The mother and daughter stared at each other for a moment, Wednesday retracting her hand. Something akin to jealousy stirred in Enid’s chest. She quickly pushed it down. The ability to stop your child from doing something without directly insulting their character or appearance was a wild thought to her. Gomez continued telling his stories, Enid shifting her attention back to him.
Enid swallowed, Wednesday fixing her with an amused stare. Enid made a couple of rude messages in morse code, tapping on Wednesday’s leg. Wednesday sniffed, speaking in a flat tone, “that is an inefficient method of murder. Drowning is not very quick, stab me instead.” Morticia nodded, briefly glancing at Enid. Enid braced herself for a rude word, but opened an eye after receiving none and noticed Gomez giving her a strange look.
“Ah, so, how did you two meet?” He asked, nudging his daughter, “Wednesday?” The girl muttered something in Spanish, which he chuckled at. “No, my little raincloud. No patricide until you’re an adult and can inherit the house.”
“I would still have to share it with Pugsley,” Wednesday said, under her breath, “I have seen your will.”
“That, my dear angel of death, is where fratricide comes in,” he said, looking over as Morticia dug her foot into his shin, “what? It’s the most logical solution.”
“We met because we’re roommates,” Enid said, reaching out for Wednesday’s hand, only to find that it was currently being used to write letters on the foggy glass window, in a language Enid couldn’t comprehend. “Um, I was supposed to show her around. And I did. And she wasn’t very impressed. But then we became friends! And there were some murders.”
“Oh, yes, the school murders. They always keep everyone on their toes,” Gomez nodded, “my darling Morticia cracked the case of the one that happened when we were at Nevermore. And your great-uncle, Wednesday, was well known for the crimes he solved in his teenage days. He would have been well known in general if he hadn’t been murdered at 23.”
“Yes, I know,” Wednesday said, “I visited his gravestone once. I had to stop him from trying to leave.” Enid let out a nervous laugh. She’d been around Wednesday long enough to know that not everything the other girl said was always 100 percent true. But it was still hard to distinguish what was an embellishment.
“I remember when you got arrested,” Enid said, speaking her thoughts out loud. “In the courtyard.” She immediately clapped her hand over her mouth, having misread the room spectacularly.
Gomez was quiet for a minute, then let out a hearty laugh, “This one’s got some spunk! Very nice choice, Wednesday. Though..” He squinted, “are you aware Valentines Day has passed? I assume it’s called that. We enjoy Gorentines Day.”
She shook her head carefully, “I just like pink. My family is pretty much monochrome brown. Gotta be a spark of warmth somewhere, hm?” She made pointed eye contact with Wednesday.
“My choice of colour in my wardrobe assists my superior intellect in decision making. That way, I am not in danger of having a seizure every time I look down at myself. You should try it, it is surprisingly good at helping your brain function.”
“Ouch,” Enid said, “what’s that thing you said to me once? Yes, it’s dangerous but at least I’ll have fun before my untimely death, or something like that? I choose to be a hazard to myself, it makes me happy.”
“Your perception of life is inferior.”
“Wow, thanks.”
“Oh, look at them, my darling,” Gomez said to Morticia, who raised an eyebrow in response, a slight smile ghosting her pale face, “don’t they remind you of a young boy and girl who were deeply in love?”
“Were?” She replied. Gomez beamed, reaching out to her. Wednesday quickly averted her eyes, Enid grinning,
“Awwww, love is so cute.”
“This family makes me want to kill myself more than I already do.” Wednesday said, glaring at her parents.
“Now now, my little raincloud. You have your own love now.”
“Yeah,” Enid huffed. “And said love is wishing you would stop writing new death threats on the car window in Greek. I can understand that, you know!”
Wednesday gave a quirk of her lips, “it is why I did it. I can write those same death threats in Spanish, Latin, you name it.”
“And they say chivalry is dead.”
“If my parents are anything to reference, absolutely not.” Wednesday wrinkled her nose, a fairly common display of disgust for her.
“Wednesday.” Morticia said sharply, and Enid flinched. She knew that tone, that tone came before yelling. Wednesday regarded her with a confused expression, and then pulled a meat cleaver from under the seat, starting to play with it eagerly. Enid was only slightly taken aback by this.
“So,” Gomez said, leaning forward, “have you murdered anyone yet?”
“Murdered?” Enid blinked.
“Oh, yes. All of the most thrilling love stories involve murder. Mystery. Tragedy.”
“Well…” Enid said. Wednesday continued playing with the meat cleaver, no help at all. She slowly explained the drama that had happened at Nevermore a year ago. Gomez gave her an impressed look, his eyes as bright as an Addams’ eyes could get.
“A Hyde? You bested a Hyde?!” Enid nodded, Gomez staring at her scars with something other than disgust, like how her mother had looked at her. That was new.
Enid self-consciously rubbed them, giving a small smile. “And for your first wolf-out too! Our little rain cloud is worth fighting that hard, hm?” He winked and Enid considered stealing Wednesday’s knife and decapitating herself right then and there.
“Wish I had murdered him,” she said, albeit very proudly. “He was rude and stupid. Tyler, of course. But the Hyde too.” She gestured vaguely, then smiled at Gomez.
Wednesday caught her eye, giving her a look and then going back to her reading. Morticia had taken interest in said book as well, but was still watching Enid out of the corner of her eye. Enid looked up front, glancing at Lurch, the driver, and then tilted her head. “So, mind telling me about yourselves?” She spoke carefully, not wanting to risk a knife in her sternum during her first meeting with the parents.
“You’ll find things out in due time,” Morticia said, matching the slowness of Enid’s voice, “we believe in showing, not telling. Isn’t that right, Wednesday?” Wednesday quickly shut her book,
“As a literary device, or a family standard?”
“Context, dear.”
“Family standard?” Wednesday paused for a moment, “yes. Definitely.”
“Great…” Enid said, the car starting to slow. It was only then that she noticed the rain outside.
“Oh, gorgeous weather,” Morticia smiled.
“Thing will hate this, you know how he is about getting his fingernails dirty.” Gomez sounded pitiful, and then looked up in elation. “Ah! We’re home.” Enid looked up and honestly, what was she expecting? A completely black, medieval-styled mansion rose above the hilltop. Enid saw some thick woods, a cemetery, and a heavy wrought-iron gate. Wednesday glanced at the mansion, and for the first time during the ride, she smiled (well, as much as Wednesday could smile) at Enid.
Enid held onto her bags just a little bit tighter.
“Welcome,” Wednesday said, grabbing her book and her bags and getting out of the car. Enid got out as well, dropping one of her bags and kneeling down to pick it up. She sighed once she stood back up. Wednesday had already wandered off.
“Wednesday?” She called, going to the front of the house. The door was open. She stepped inside, raising an eyebrow. Okay. It was still what she expected. The house looked ancient, the front room very well-kept. There was also a taxidermied possum staring at her from a shelf. At least, she hoped it was taxidermied. “Wednesday?” She called again, getting no response. “Wednesday, what the hell?” She turned into a hallway, blinking rapidly as the light suddenly turned off. There were glowing eyeballs attached to the walls. Great. “Wednesday?!” She shouted, continuing to walk down the hall. It was then she heard a high-pitched scream,
“Who are you?!”
She screamed as well.
A short, heavy boy appeared at the end of the hallway, arms crossed in fear. He was probably eleven, and was wearing a black-and-white striped shirt with black shorts. Enid’s brain flared with recognition- the boy beside Morticia and Gomez at Parent’s Week. Publey? Puglin? Something like that.
The boy squinted, taking in Enid’s attire. “Are you like, a distant dead cousin from the cemetery? No self-respecting modern Addams would dress like that ,” he said the last part under his breath, and Enid stifled a laugh.
“And I thought the blonde hair would give it away.”
He sniffed the air, “not natural. I learned to smell bleach at a toddler’s age. I’m no fool, corpse.” She gave a warm smile. “Why are you smiling? There’s no murders occurring. Unless-” he cowered, “are you going to eat me? Ah, Mom always warned me about this!”
“No. I’m looking for Wednesday. Where is she?”
“Why do you want Wednesday? She’s just going to put you back in the cemetery. She has no patience for the corpses.”
“Well, she’s -” She started.
“Pugsley,” Wednesday appeared behind them. Enid rolled her eyes and turned around. So it was Pugsley.
“Willa, you went in without me!” Enid said, Wednesday tilting her head,
“I left a map.”
“Where?!”
“I pinned it to the seat.
“Very helpful, thanks,” she said. Wednesday looked back over at the boy, who gave her a sheepish wave,
“Excuse me for a moment, Enid,” she said, “I see you are still alive, Pugsley. Pity, you would make such a lovely skeleton. I am surprised no one has murdered you without me to scare them off.”
“It’s because I actually have friends -” Pugsley started, Wednesday taking a knife from her sleeve. Pugsley did the same, grabbing his from behind a strange statue. Enid watched them fight, the knives clinking as they hit each other. She’d grown up wrestling with her brothers, of course. But this was a new level of unusual. They seemed… happy, though. She stepped aside and watched, the fight ending with Wednesday’s knife against Pugsley’s throat.
“You are getting better,” Wednesday said, “but you are still not nearly sharp enough. Work on it.”
“You just have an advantage because of your murder academy,” he whined. She raised an eyebrow,
“That attitude will land you an early grave.”
“Speaking of which,” he gestured impatiently to Enid. “Why is there a blonde corpse in our house, why is it dressed like that, and why are you doing nothing about it?”
“Pugsley,” she stared at him flatly, “this is my girlfriend. Enid.” Enid gave a shy little wave, deciding to not risk losing any appendages by shaking his hand. If he was anything like his sister, she was going to avoid touch entirely. Pugsley stared,
“That’s your girlfriend? But she’s so-” he looked Enid up and down. The girl was starting to feel more and more like a specimen to be scrutinized on display. Wednesday sighed, rubbing her temples,
“Yes, I am aware of Enid’s desire to visually napalm half of America with that sweater alone,” Enid scowled at her. “But be courteous, please. She has not even spoken to Grandmama.” Pugsley shrugged, offering his hand to shake to Enid. She took it, and then quickly extended her claws, swiping a knife that was up his sleeve in half. Pugsley looked disappointed, and…a little impressed. “So it’s true. You’re a werewolf.”
Enid gave a nervous smile, retracting her brightly-colored finger-knives. “As far as I’m aware.”
“I’ve only ever met three werewolves,” Pugsley said, “hey, Wednesday, remember that one girl who -” Wednesday shoved a hand over his mouth,
“We do not speak of that. Do not you have a ghost to track, or a person in the basement to torture?” Pugsley blinked,
“Oh! I forgot, the corpses keep trying to come out of the ground. The fresh ones, anyway. I have to go poke them with a rake.”
“You do that,” Wednesday said, catching a small dagger that was thrown at her, throwing it after him as he ran off. “So, yes, that is my brother. He is insufferable.”
“He seems nice,” Enid leaned against the wall, standing up straight after it shrieked at her, the eyeballs stuck on it apparently sentient, “in a weird, Addams family way. Like you.”
“I seem nice ? Did I offend you in any way lately, Enid? Do I owe you an apology?”
“I mean horrible!” Wednesday nodded. Enid looked at the space where the boy had been,
“He kinda reminds me of my brothers. He just has much better aim with weapons. And better balance in general. And he’s probably twice as smart, but yeah, you get what I’m saying.”
“No, I do not,” Wednesday said, starting to walk, “come, I will show you the rest of the family. They have been dying to meet you.”
Enid bit her lip, wondering just how many of said family members were actually living.
Wednesday took Enid through the house - “That is a torture chamber, that is a torture chamber, that is a torture chamber, and that is a-”
“Let me guess, a torture chamber?”
“No. Do not be stupid, Enid. That is a bathroom. That is the next torture chamber.”
“Oh, of course.”
“Dining room.” Enid passed into a long room, with an even longer table. The plates were all gold, and Enid relaxed pleasantly at the realization there was no silver cutlery. “And kitchen.”
In the kitchen, a mop of gray, stringy hair was hunched over the stove. Little hums came from the figure as they stirred the pot, an absolutely putrid smell coming off of it. Enid squinted, and Wednesday abruptly grabbed a meat cleaver from a rack- Enid noted this family had the most extensive knife collection she’d ever seen- and threw it straight at the woman’s head. At the last moment, she ducked, letting it slam into the wall where a hundred other knife marks were partnered.
The figure whirled around, revealing a short, old woman with bushy gray hair in a knot and deep eyebags. She had pale skin, sunken-in eyes, and little to no teeth.
“Wednesday!” She said gleefully, “you’ve returned! And oh, is that the dinner meat?”
“No,” Wednesday said, “nor is she a corpse. Or a demon. She is a hazard to society.”
“Ah! A hazard! That will make the soup extra flavorful,” she hurried over, inspecting Enid by grabbing her face, and then proceeded to stick her fingers in the blonde girl’s mouth and squinted closely at her fangs. “Is she biochemical or a nuclear hazard, my dear grandchild?”
“Grandmama,” Wednesday said, tracing her fingers against the knife marks on the wall, “she is simply a girl with interesting outfit preferences. A hazard to one’s eyes. Has father not given you numerous speeches on unwanted touch as well? Unhand my girlfriend.”
“Girlfriend soup, maybe? Werewolf meat is so rare these days, haven’t had some in decades, and this one seems like a runt! Those are always the best-tasting.” She smiled at Enid, revealing probably three and a half teeth.
“I wish for her to stay alive. She is surprisingly better that way. Mostly.”
“That can’t be possible,” she frowned, backing up and giving Enid another once-over.
“I know it is shocking. But it is the truth,” Wednesday said, putting a single finger on Enid’s shoulder, “she is very interesting. She would be more worthwhile to study than to cook.”
“Very well, very well.” She squinted at the girl, “yes, yes, a werewolf. Like I thought,”
“Like I told you.” Wednesday muttered.
“Adolescent, definitely the runt of the pack, less hairy than they usually are. Oh well!” Enid gave a tight-lipped smile. “Will she be staying for dinner, dearie?” Grandmama fixed her eyes on her granddaughter.
“Yes. To eat, not to be eaten,” Wednesday said, moving her finger from Enid’s shoulder and catching another knife.
“Why do people throw so many knives in this family?!” Enid exclaimed.
“It’s tradition!” Grandmama twirled her skirt, which was made of patched murky fabrics. The color scheme reminded Enid of her own family, except for the slight fact of Grandmama’s skirt appearing to have patches of actual skin and- Enid swallowed her nausea -werewolf fur.
“Dinner will be ready in an hour or so, I just have to let it burn a little bit more.” Enid stared at the pretense of eating cooked meat, before Wednesday leaned over.
“We have a collection of fresh cadavers, do not worry,” she whispered. Grandmama twirled around, extending a hand to Enid to shake. Enid shook it. The hand came off in her own, wiggling its fingers. Enid stared at it for a moment, then reached out her arm,
“Here, you can have it back,” she said, Wednesday cracking a smile at the look on her grandmother’s face as Enid calmly returned her hand.
Grandmama took the hand, putting it on her shoulder. Her real hand popped out of her sleeve, and the hand on her shoulder waved a stitched finger in greeting. It looked very familiar.
“Hi, Thing!” Enid beamed, “I missed you!”
“You two have been separated for 24 hours,” Wednesday said, turning to walk away.
“24 hours too long!” Enid exclaimed, letting the hand run up her shoulder. It started typing rapidly in Morse code. “Yeah, yeah, I’ll do your manicure. Oh I would assume so. For how good she is at knife-throwing, she cannot do a french tip worth anything."
Wednesday gritted her teeth, “five seconds in and you are already insulting me to my family members.”
Enid gave a sly grin, “anything for you.” Wednesday took her had,
“Come. I’ll show you to my room. You will be staying there with me,” she pulled her down another hallway with more creepy wall-eyeballs, Enid paying attention to the space above the eyeballs as they walked by. The space was covered in pictures.
Some of them were rather disturbing and she assumed it was a complete chronicling of the family's history. But others showed the members themselves. There was Grandmama. There she was again. There was Morticia and Gomez when they were young. And there was -
“Oh my god,” Enid stopped, Wednesday trying to tug her forward, her eyes widening in what was most likely horror as she saw what she was looking up at, “it’s you. You’re a baby!”
“Yes, everyone was an infant once, even the best of us. Except for one of my great aunts, now that I think about it. She just showed up as a full adult one day. She is adopted.”
“Stop trying to distract me. You’re adorable! Look at those big eyes! And that smile. And that little dress -”
“- Stop it immediately. We are going to my room now.” Enid looked up at the wall again,
“There are so many pictures of you,” she realized, “and your brother.” Children who were adored by their family. None of Enid’s family pictures had included her since she was ten. When the… awkward transition between girl and woman had begun, and Enid had become more awkward with it. Wednesday led her to a plain-looking door, slowly opening it.
“Oh. Oh wow.”
Wednesday walked into the room, hands clasped behind her back as if mimicking a tour guide.
The space was all black (what was Enid expecting, honestly?) with a large desk and a spot where her typewriter would be. Black curtains, opened to reveal the stormy weather. Black bed except for white pillows. The bed was lifted off the ground, and Enid swore she saw something move under it. There was a closet with various bear traps, knives, and all black clothes. Enid could’ve thought she saw something pink, but Wednesday slammed the door before she could check.
The room was kind of underwhelming, except for the massive guillotine in the corner. There were no pictures on the walls, a single lightbulb hanging down- “It’s more thrilling with the electroshock,” Wednesday explained- and a door to a bathroom. The only flash of color Enid could see was a little picture on the desk. It was her and Wednesday, Enid grinning ear-to-ear, Wednesday with a calm expression. It had been taken after the Poe cup victory in their first year, and Enid smiled, opening her mouth to make a remark, before Wednesday fixed her with a scathing look. “You’re hallucinating,” she swept the picture into her desk drawer. “Lack of stimulation from your abhorrent color palette choices.”
“I know you love me,” Enid smiled, sitting next to Wednesday at the desk, watching the other girl look through her papers, narrowing her eyes at one of them and sliding it under the others. She found whatever she had been looking for and started to write on the paper.
“Oh, my little lethal weapon,” Gomez walked in, standing beside them, “I thought I’d find you here.”
“An unlocked door is not an invitation to come in, father. A locked one is. It will help you work on your breaking-in-and-entering, which frankly needs more work,” she stared up at him, “you have gotten slow.”
“I’ve missed you too, dear scorpion.”
“Family bonding,” Enid muttered under her breath. Wednesday kicked her under the table, which earned her a wince from the werewolf. Wednesday’s lips curled into a ghost of a smile.
“Is our guest uncomfortable?”
“Of course, father.”
“Lively.” He gave a sickening smile.
Enid huffed, and Gomez gave her an interesting look. “Enid, how much are you aware of Wednesday’s childhood?”
“Um… I’m aware that she was happy?” Enid said.
“Happy?! What kind of father do you take me for? It was delightfully miserable. Oh, I look back on those days very fondly. Her first breath, her first scream, her first kill - of a doll, that is. We don’t introduce humans to children until they’re at least five. Toddlers don’t have the fine-motor skills to wield weapons. Though I must say, Wednesday took a while to get the hang of things, the girl couldn’t hold a pencil until she was -”
“-Father,” Wednesday interjected, shooting him a glare. Gomez continued talking,
“- I miss the little girl who would snuggle into my lap and try to murder her brother every morning. What a delightful sound to wake to -” he dodged a knife thrown at his head, “an admirable attempt, dear daughter, but your aim was slightly off.”
Enid swallowed a laugh, ducking out of the way as another dagger shot towards her, “love you too, Willa.”
Wednesday grimaced, glaring at them both. “I would prefer to be quickly and dutifully executed, not tortured. Even this is worse than my desired level of pain. Would you mind trying the guillotine?” She gestured to the instrument in the corner.
“Not until you’re at least 18, dear deathstalker,” Gomez said.
Wednesday huffed and walked out of the room.
Dinner was about as calm as the Addams family could be. So, absolutely not at all.
Pugsley sat down, huffing, “why can’t we use our normal cutlery? I liked the silv-”
Wednesday cut him off with a sharp glare, and Pugsley pouted. “Fine.”
Enid felt a warmth rise in her chest at the implication. Wednesday had switched out the silver for her. Wednesday gritted her teeth, muttering, “don’t let it get to your head, Sinclair. I can always watch your slow and burning pain instead.” Enid gave a smug smile, getting into Wednesday’s personal space. The shorter girl looked very offended, widening her eyes in flabbergasted shock that Enid would dare do such a thing.
“Yeah, yeah, Willa. I know.”
“Eat, girls. Before it gets warm,” Gomez said.
“Warm?” Enid looked over at Wednesday, who shrugged. The family talked and laughed together, Wednesday not usually participating in the conversation unless it was a death threat. But she smiled frequently. More than Enid had ever seen the other girl smile.
This was what a loving family looked like. Not a normal one, per say. But one where everyone genuinely cared for everyone else, no matter who or what they were. Something Enid had never known.
Morticia took a sip of whatever she was drinking. It was a dark, red liquid, so there were a few possibilities. She barely seemed to regard Enid, occasionally glancing over at her. She rarely betrayed any emotion. It reminded Enid of Wednesday, when they had first become friends- that careful guarded solemness.
Grandmama chewed her food, pointing a fork at Enid. “Start with the eyeballs, runt.”
“Mama,” Morticia spoke, “be courteous. Flattery is not the move for this.”
Wednesday sighed, poking the stew with her spoon, and gave a relaxed smile when it moved. Enid swallowed, “is the meat cooked?”
“I figured you would like it raw,” Grandmama shrugged, “fascinating creatures, werewolves… very fascinating indeed.”
Enid picked out a bloody chunk of meat, and ate it. Huh. Good.
“What type of meat is it?” She asked Grandmama.
“Oh, just Great Aunt Marie-”
“WHAT?”
“-’s cattle. What? Do you not like cattle?”
“Oh. No, cattle is fine.”
Gomez gave a cheerful grin. “So, how was Wednesday during her first year at Nevermore?” Enid looked up, her mouth full, swallowing quickly.
“Goodness, girl!” Grandmama exclaimed, “do they not feed you?” Enid, mouth still full, tapped something in Morse code to Wendesday, who translated,
“She says the food is horrible.” Enid frowned, tapping something. “Yes Enid, I know what you said. If I say lovely, Grandmama will filet you.” Enid went back to eating, trying not to make eye contact with anyone. Even Pugsley apparently was trained in most weapons.
“Enid?” Morticia suddenly asked. Enid choked on her drink, which was either blood or wine. She wasn’t sure which was worse,
“Uh - yes?! Ma’am?!”
“Would you care to join me on a walk around the vicinity after we are done eating?” Enid slowly looked to Wednesday, who nodded.
“Okay,” she said, following Morticia out of the dining room once they were done. She pocketed a knife before leaving, just in case. Gomez gave her an approving look. She followed Morticia outside into the light rain, her shoes squishing in the mud on the ground.
“The beautiful day has turned into a beautiful evening,” Morticia smiled, stepping forward. Her shoes didn’t sink into the ground at all. Enid stared. They passed a large graveyard, Morticia’s dress swishing at her feet,
“There’s Wednesday’s great aunt,” she said, pointing to one stone, “she was crushed by a surprising falling boulder while hiking in the forest. Tragic.”
“Oh - I’m, uh, very sorry for your loss.” Morticia ignored her, continuing to walk. They reached one stone with a hand poking out from under it,
“Fred, get back in there,” Morticia said sharply. The hand burrowed back into the dirt.
“Is that another relative?”
“No, he just showed up one day. It’s so curious when corpses wash onto the shore near there. Usually because the person meets an unfortunate fate, just right around here,” Morticia put a finger on her shoulder. She shivered. “You don’t run, like the other girl did. Curious.”
“Wait, other girl -” Enid started. Morticia looked up towards the moon,
“I am fond of you, Enid. You are a different soul than any I’ve ever seen. However, you also hold my daughter’s heart in your hands, you understand? If you hurt my child, I will not kill you. I will torture you. Very, very slowly. I understand if a relationship does not work. But you cannot hurt her.”
“Yes, ma’am,” Enid whispered.
“Or else you will end up like the other girl.”
“That’s the second time you’ve mentioned the other girl.”
“The other girl is,” Morticia traced a gravestone. “Not alive, as you would say. If you find your clothes amiss, it is probably her messing with it out of jealousy that Wednesday has found another. But yes, she is dismembered at the moment. Her body, anyways.”
Enid crossed her arms. If she had her wolf ears, they would be profusely pinned. Other girl, she thought murkily. It must have shown on her face, as Morticia raised her eyebrow. “It is humorous you have regards only to that.”
Enid rolled her eyes, “I hear worse from my mom . I can handle a couple of death threats.”
Morticia’s mouth curled into a smile. “Interesting.” She gave a jolt of her head, continuing on. “There’s great-great-great aunt Gertrude. She was a left-handed lesbian, they burned her at the stake, of course. If you smell something smoking, she is probably just saying hello. She does it to any other sapphics she can sense,” Morticia gave the grave a fond look.
Indeed, Enid smelled heavy smoke. She offered a tiny wave to the cloud of sulfur, grinning a little when the cloud curled into the shape of a faint heart.
Morticia continued introducing the graves, and Enid was almost…jealous. The Addams held so much love for each other. She was certain if she met an untimely death, her family would bury her at the edge of their cemetery. Enid licked her lips, which were dry with the heat of the air. It was musty, hot, and mucky. And Morticia loved it.
She twirled freely in the yard, smiling as a hand poked out of a tomb and waved at her. Enid stared, entranced, at the woman. Wednesday had taken after her looks-wise, because Morticia was, quite literally, hauntingly beautiful. High cheekbones, an aquiline nose, dark red lips on death-like porcelain skin. Deep brown eyes, like her daughter. There always seemed to be a slit of light across her face, like moonlight through a window shade. An air of certainty, as Morticia slowed and fixed her eyes on the girl. She looked at Enid like she saw straight through her soul, saw Enid’s very being and all of her love. And with how the Addams were, Enid would not have been surprised if she could. The woman strolled over, placing a hand on Enid’s shoulder, then glanced off into the distance, transfixed. She then snapped her eyes back to the young werewolf, something akin to sympathy crossing her face.
“You are a strong child,” Morticia said slowly, Enid crossing her arms,
“I’m nearly an adult.”
“Nearly is not near enough,” Morticia said, scanning her over, “you are strong. Yet you are soft. Not exactly the type of girl I thought Wednesday would go for.”
“Well, she did.”
“I know, girl. You’re just an interesting choice.”
“I feel like you’re alluding to more. I feel like you’re testing me,” Enid finally said, starting to slowly circle her, her hands clasped behind her back.
“Yes. You do pick up on things quickly. Let me show you what you must do to be a fully accepted member of this family.”
Enid bit her lip, “Gomez mentioned this. A duel,” she looked up at Morticia. The prospect of dueling wasn’t pleasant. And yet, something else spoke in the back of her mind. Member of this family.
“Time to see if Wednesday was right when she said you weren’t as soft as people thought.”
“Wait, she said t-” Enid ducked a swipe from the older woman.
“Focus, Sinclair,” Morticia remarked dryly, “and put those werewolf skills to use.”
“Isn’t there some other way to welcome members,” Enid started, ducking again, “one that’s preferably less deadly?”
“You’ve been dating my daughter for- how long was it?”
“A year, six months, twenty-one days, three hours.” Enid responded immediately, then bit her lip and scowled at the eager sentence.
“But who’s counting?” Morticia gave a quick curl of her mouth, throwing a knife at the girl. Enid quickly caught it, having spent enough time with Wednesday to know how to do so, clasping the knife in her hands and backing up with it pointed at the other woman.
The older woman quickly threw the cloak she was wearing over Enid’s eyes, obscuring her vision and sweeping her off her feet. She grabbed back the knife, swiping it quickly and regarding Enid with an intrigued glance. Enid bared her claws, sliding to the ground and away from the knife, raking them across her legs before standing up behind her. Her claws were surprisingly strong, considering that they were multi-coloured abominations to nature.
Morticia hissed, jabbing Enid with her elbow quickly, and whipping around to face her. She thought for a moment, then inclined her head with a cruel smile. “Where are those Hyde-besting skills you’ve supposedly shown? Are you really fit to love my daughter?” She was very clearly baiting Enid, but the girl wasn’t stupid.
“It’s not about being fit for her,” Enid said, looking into her eyes and taking a step back, her claws still out, “I fought the Hyde for Wednesday, only to keep her safe. To keep everyone safe. I only ever want to fight to keep people safe. Especially Wednesday. She’s the only reason I’m dueling right now. We’re good for each other because we’re opposites. Which means I’m nothing like you, and…” She hesitated. “Probably nothing like this family.”
Morticia’s eyes brightened, and her smile became much wider. “Very good.” She drew a knife, and seemed to materialize behind the girl. She pressed the edge of the blade to Enid’s throat, then calmly looked at her. “How you react now will determine everything.” Enid took a deep breath, jabbing her elbow into Morticia’s side without a word, pushing her arm away, her own arm strength apparently superior. She straightened herself up and stood in front of her,
“I don’t want to fight. But it doesn’t mean I can’t. Especially for your daughter.”
Morticia tilted her head, regarding the blood running down her eyes with an excited widening in her eyes. “Congratulations, Enid.” The woman brushed the dirt off her front, “you passed.”
Enid squinted, giving a very visibly confused look, “but you’re not dead. That’s how fights work.”
“You have obviously never participated in a duel. Death, or forfeit. I forfeit, because you passed.”
Enid did not seem to get it. “But..” Her eyes widened. It clicked. “It wasn’t a duel,” she said slowly. “You were trying to see what I’d do for Wednesday.”
“Very good.” The older woman gave a tilt of her head.
“That’s an interesting way of doing things,” Enid scrunched up her nose, Morticia putting a hand on her shoulder,
“Come. Let us venture back to the house. If we stay out any longer Wednesday will believe I’ve killed you and might take matters into her own hands in an…overtly complicated manner.”
“Obviously.” Enid responded with a small smile. “She just restocked her cyanide. Can’t have her doing anything rash, of course.” She skipped back towards the house. Morticia watched her with an intrigued stare.
“You are a strange one, Enid Sinclair.” She murmured to herself. Enid walked back into the house, sitting next to Wednesday, who was reading a book about poison dart frogs. Enid had stopped trying to get Wednesday to use technology. She didn’t want Wednesday to discover Wikipedia. Ever. She wrapped an arm around her, Wednesday not seeming to notice, continuing to read.
“Enid, Wednesday! Hello girls!” Gomez walked in, sitting across from them. Wednesday didn’t even look up, Enid smiling widely. “Enid, I heard you passed the test. Good job!” He leaned in closer, whispering, “ hurt my baby girl and I will torture you until you scream for death. ” Enid nodded quickly. “Anyway, child, your brother is looking for someone to practice his bow on.” Wednesday stood up and walked off, Gomez directing his full attention to Enid.
Enid looked nervously at the man. Somehow, he was more intimidating than his wife. “Hi,” she started.
“Hello,” he said, “you’ve done well today, Enid. We all think so.” She blushed, looking down at her feet. Nobody had given her such high praise in a long time. “Even if my daughter becomes Wednesday Friday Sinclair instead of you becoming Enid Addams, you’ll be an honorary Addams for as long as you live. And after,” he said.
Enid stifled a giggle. “Her middle name is Friday?”
“Morticia was sober while naming her. Do not ask.”
Enid’s expression softened as the second part clicked. “Oh. Thank you, sir.”
He smiled, the edges of his eyes crinkling. “Please, call me Gomez.”
Enid thought to herself. Enid Addams. That sounded pretty nice.
“My last name sucks. I’m cool with Addams.”
“Addams it is!” Gomez put a hand on her shoulder. “Keep Wednesday safe, and you will always have a home here.”
Enid felt her insides warm. Home here.
And what could be better than that.