Chapter 100: Discussion About Axel

Chapter 100 -101: Discussion About Axel

Chapter 101: Discussion About Axel

Axel Vance stared down at Wednesday Addams, momentarily caught off guard by her request. Of all the things she could have asked about, he had expected the enchanted chainsaw to attract her attention long before the bottle of Holy Water. After several seconds, he finally asked, “What exactly do you want more of it for?”

Wednesday looked up at him with the same perfectly emotionless expression she had worn since opening the front door. Her black eyes did not flicker as she answered in a calm, matter-of-fact voice, “I want to see if watering Pugsley with it will kill him.”

Axel fell silent.

A dozen possible responses crossed his mind, ranging from explaining basic sibling affection to pointing out that Holy Water was not something he handed out for experiments involving younger brothers. None of them seemed appropriate while a ten-year-old girl calmly discussed murdering Pugsley Addams as though she were proposing a science project.

Before Axel could settle on an answer, Gomez Addams burst into delighted laughter. “Morticia, darling, did you hear that?” He bent down and clapped Wednesday proudly on the shoulder. “My little storm cloud, such imagination! Such devotion to experimentation!”

Wednesday accepted the praise without the slightest reaction.

Gomez straightened and turned toward Axel with renewed enthusiasm. “My friend, you absolutely must bring us more of that marvelous Holy Water. Naturally, the Addams family never accepts a gift from a friend without returning something equally memorable.”

Axel looked from Gomez to Wednesday.

Any attempt at a normal parental lecture had clearly become pointless.

“All right,” he finally said. “I’ll bring some over another time.”

He deliberately did not specify how much.

Wednesday gave a tiny nod, apparently considering the matter settled.

Axel briefly rested a hand on top of her braided head before stepping away. “Just don’t start planning the funeral yet.”

“I already have,” Wednesday replied.

Axel decided not to ask.

After saying goodbye to Gomez, Morticia, Wednesday, and the rest of the household, Axel returned through the self-opening gate and climbed into the battered old box truck. The engine coughed several times before starting, and he drove back through the dark woods toward his own mansion with the strange realization that the Addams family might actually be among the safest neighbors he had met recently.

The moment Axel opened his front door, Lionel Cosgrove’s voice echoed through the mansion. “You’re finally back! I’m starving so badly I think my stomach has started digesting the rest of me.”

Lionel appeared from the living room looking genuinely betrayed by the concept of an empty kitchen. “Tell me you found food. At this point I’d consider a dead squirrel negotiable.”

Axel placed a covered pot on the table. “Food.”

Lionel moved faster than Axel had seen him move all evening.

He lifted the lid.

Inside was leftover soup from the Addams dinner.

The deep-purple broth still contained several mysterious floating spheres, while a faint greenish vapor curled lazily above the surface. Lionel stared into it for a moment, apparently deciding that hunger outweighed every survival instinct he possessed.

Carrie White happened to come downstairs at exactly the wrong time. Her eyes landed on the pot, took in the color, floating objects, unusual texture, and green vapor, and her already fragile tolerance for disorder immediately collapsed. Her face went pale.

Several empty plates on the nearby table suddenly jumped.

Silverware followed.

Bang!

The dishes and utensils shot across the room and struck the opposite wall.

Axel glanced toward Carrie.

Carrie stared back at him, horrified.

Lionel barely noticed.

He found the spoon that Lurch had thoughtfully packed with the leftovers, scooped up a generous portion, and swallowed it. “Honestly, not bad.”

Carrie looked increasingly disturbed.

Lionel took another bite. “Definitely better than some of the things my mother cooked after she turned into a monster.”

“That is not helping,” Axel said.

Before Carrie could decide whether to leave, the basement door opened.

Dr. Seth Brundle emerged covered in dust and wood shavings, with the distracted expression of a man whose mind was still several floors below working on a laboratory. He walked straight to the table without asking what was inside the pot, filled a bowl, and ate several quick spoonfuls.

Seth barely tasted it.

“I need more equipment,” he announced between bites. “Used laboratory benches, instrumentation, power hardware, and probably close to a thousand feet of cable before I can make the basement useful.”

Axel raised an eyebrow. “You’re making a shopping list while eating glowing soup.”

Seth wiped his mouth. “Efficiency.”

Lionel looked at him. “Do you even know what you just ate?”

Seth paused.

He looked down at the bowl for the first time.

Then he shrugged. “It had calories.”

He turned toward the basement.

“As long as it doesn’t interfere with my work, I don’t care.”

The door closed behind him.

Lionel stared after Seth for several seconds before taking another spoonful. “I respect that.”

Carrie looked from the suspicious green vapor to Lionel eating happily, then toward the basement door where Seth had disappeared without a second thought. Something in her expression suggested her understanding of normal human behavior had just suffered another major setback.

Without saying anything, she turned around.

Then she quietly went back upstairs.

Out of sight was clearly better.

Several miles away, the Addams mansion had grown quiet again.

Gomez, Morticia, Wednesday, and Lurch remained in the foyer until the distant rattle of Axel’s box truck finally disappeared into the forest. For a moment, nobody spoke.

Then Gomez grinned.

“What a magnificent neighbor!”

He pulled a slender fencing sword from the decorative rack and spun it through the air with effortless precision. “Did you see his face during dinner? No revulsion, no trembling, no desperate excuses about needing to leave early.”

Morticia returned calmly to the vase of thorny rose stems. She lifted her gardening shears and trimmed away one surviving leaf that offended her sense of balance. “He was curious rather than frightened.”

“Exactly!”

Gomez flourished the blade again.

“Such a rare quality.”

Morticia’s expression remained serene, but her dark eyes became thoughtful. “He is also dangerous, Gomez.”

Gomez stopped.

Morticia continued trimming the roses. “His hands have seen violence. Not merely the kind necessary to deal with monsters.”

The observation did not sound accusatory.

It sounded clinical.

Gomez’s smile returned almost immediately.

He glided toward his wife and gently captured the hand holding the shears. “Cara mia, you make him sound more charming with every sentence.”

Morticia gave him a faint smile.

Gomez kissed the back of her hand.

“A modern monster hunter carrying a chainsaw to dinner and arriving with sacred water as a housewarming gift.” His eyes shone with delight. “Where have neighbors like this been hiding all our lives?”

He turned toward Lurch. “You smelled it too, didn’t you?”

Lurch remained beside the wall.

“Uhhhhhh.”

Gomez pointed triumphantly. “Exactly!”

Morticia glanced toward the bottle still displayed proudly beside the skull on the mantel.

Gomez followed her gaze. “That Holy Water had extraordinary power in it. Clean, sharp, wonderfully unpleasant to anything that deserves to be uncomfortable.”

He closed his eyes as though remembering an expensive wine.

“And yet Axel treats us exactly as he would anyone else.”

Wednesday stood nearby with her finished apple skull in one hand. “His chainsaw is better.”

Gomez looked toward her.

Wednesday continued in the same deadpan tone. “It is loud, inefficient, and unnecessarily violent.”

A tiny pause.

“I like it.”

Gomez nearly glowed with paternal pride. “You see, Morticia? Our daughter understands him already.”

Wednesday looked down at the apple skull. “He also did not object when I asked to kill Pugsley.”

“He showed admirable restraint.”

Morticia’s lips curved slightly.

Gomez sheathed the fencing sword and resumed pacing through the dim foyer. “How long has it been since we met anyone genuinely interesting? The last visitor tried to sell us a vacuum cleaner.”

Wednesday looked toward him. “You buried it.”

“The vacuum?”

“The salesman.”

Gomez paused.

Then waved one hand. “Details.”

Morticia finally set her shears aside. “I’m less concerned about Axel than the people pursuing him.”

The humor in Gomez’s expression faded.

Morticia folded her hands gracefully in front of herself. “Someone capable of making a man like that choose an isolated house in the woods must represent more than an ordinary inconvenience.”

Gomez slowly nodded.

The mansion became quieter.

He walked toward the tall window and pulled aside one of the heavy curtains. Beyond the glass lay darkness, forest, and somewhere in the distance, Axel’s newly occupied mansion.

“Human society changes faster every year,” Gomez said. “Men have walked on the moon, machines fill every office, and apparently people have discovered dozens of new ways to become unbearably ordinary.”

He sighed dramatically.

“We came somewhere quiet specifically to avoid all that.”

Morticia approached him.

Gomez continued, “Our previous neighbors complained about everything. The trees, the noises, Pugsley’s pets, the occasional explosion.”

“They lacked tolerance,” Morticia said.

“Exactly.”

Gomez released the curtain.

“But Axel’s enemies sound different.”

His expression became unusually serious. “If these cultists follow him here and begin investigating the neighborhood, they may eventually become curious about us as well.”

Wednesday appeared almost interested by the possibility.

Gomez did not.

“I would hate to move again.”

Morticia considered the situation for a moment.

Then she smiled.

“I think Axel may get along very well with some of our friends.”

Gomez turned toward her.

The seriousness vanished from his face.

“My raven, you are brilliant.”

He swept her into his arms with renewed enthusiasm. “When the time is right, we’ll host a proper welcoming party. We’ll invite everyone.”

Wednesday looked toward them. “Everyone?”

Gomez’s grin widened.

“Everyone interesting.”

Morticia rested one hand against his chest, her expression serene. “Our new neighbor may discover he has more in common with this family than he expects.”

The Addams mansion had spent a long time isolated from ordinary society.

Now, with a police officer, monster hunter, physicist, living bound-effigy, and telekinetic girl settling only a few miles away, that isolation had finally been disturbed.

For the first time in years, the old Gothic house seemed almost excited.

And somewhere within its dark halls, the Addams family began looking forward to what their new neighbor might bring next.