Chapter 99: Dinner with the Addams Family

Chapter 99 -100: Dinner with the Addams Family

Chapter 100: Dinner with the Addams Family

Gomez Addams was so enthusiastic that Axel Vance barely had time to reconsider before the man had already ushered him toward the dining room. Gomez walked with one arm around Axel’s shoulder, talking as though they had known each other for years rather than minutes. Axel allowed himself to be guided along, increasingly curious about what dinner in the Addams household actually looked like.

The dining room matched the rest of the mansion perfectly. A long ebony table dominated the center of the room beneath another chandelier draped in perfectly preserved cobwebs, while heavy curtains and candlelight kept the atmosphere comfortably gloomy. What caught Axel’s attention most was that an extra place setting had already been arranged for him.

Either the Addams family always prepared for unexpected guests, or this household had its own ideas about hospitality.

A towering figure stood silently beside the table. He wore an old-fashioned black butler’s suit, his skin was unnaturally pale, and his gaunt face possessed the solemn expression of a man who considered smiling an unnecessary luxury. His enormous frame and slow movements gave him the unmistakable air of someone who could have wandered out of a classic monster movie.

Gomez spread one hand toward him proudly. “This is our faithful butler, Lurch.” Then he turned toward the giant and added, “Lurch, our new neighbor, Mr. Axel Vance, will be joining us for dinner.”

Lurch slowly turned his head.

“Uhhhhhh.”

The sound that came from his throat was somewhere between a greeting and distant thunder.

He pulled out a chair for Axel with surprising care.

“Thanks,” Axel said.

Lurch gave another deep groan.

Axel took his seat.

His enchanted chainsaw and Holy Water had been left near the entrance at Gomez’s insistence that carrying weapons at the dinner table was unnecessary unless dessert became argumentative. Without them, Axel felt strangely exposed despite being surrounded by people who had so far shown him nothing but friendliness. After the past few months, apparently sitting down to dinner unarmed had become more uncomfortable than carrying a chainsaw into a haunted building.

Wednesday Addams was already seated nearby.

She held a small knife in one hand and an apple in the other, carving into the fruit with absolute concentration. By the time Axel looked closely, she had already transformed most of it into a miniature skull with empty eye sockets and an unnervingly accurate set of teeth.

Across from her sat Morticia Addams.

She held a pair of garden shears and calmly trimmed a vase of roses while everyone settled into their seats. Axel watched her cut off every flower one by one, allowing the blossoms to fall onto the table while carefully preserving the bare thorny stems.

Apparently, the roses were much improved afterward.

A chubby blond boy sat farther down the table, striking his plate repeatedly with a spoon and producing a steady metallic clatter. Gomez gestured toward him with paternal pride. “And this is our son, Pugsley.”

Pugsley stopped banging the plate just long enough to look at Axel.

“Hi.”

Then he resumed.

Once everyone was seated, Gomez took his place at the head of the table. “Axel, please make yourself completely at home. Consider our home your home, only with better curtains and more reliable family crypts.”

Axel nodded slowly. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

Lurch began serving the first course.

The moment the bowl was placed in front of Axel, his fingers tightened slightly against his knee.

The soup was a deep shade of purple.

Several round objects floated near the surface.

A thin green vapor rose from the bowl.

Axel stared at it.

Then at Gomez.

Then back at the soup.

Gomez had already picked up his spoon.

He took a generous mouthful and closed his eyes in pleasure. “Ah, Morticia, querida, the swamp frog-eye soup is particularly inspired tonight.”

Morticia smiled softly. “I added a little more acidity.”

“Perfection.”

Wednesday calmly stabbed one of the round pieces with her spoon, watched dark juice seep into the broth, and then ate it without changing expression.

Axel looked down at his own bowl.

The floating spheres drifted around the spoon.

His instincts told him not to eat anything producing visible green vapor.

Curiosity won.

Axel scooped up a small amount and tasted it.

A sharp sour flavor immediately spread across his tongue, followed by something unexpectedly cool and refreshing, almost like mint. The soup itself was smooth, while the round piece burst when he bit into it and released a mildly sweet liquid.

Axel paused.

It was not good.

But it was not terrible either.

Mostly, it tasted like something his brain had no category for.

He opened his eyes and found Gomez watching him expectantly.

“Well?” Gomez asked. “Invigorating, isn’t it?”

Axel considered his answer carefully. “Very distinctive.”

Gomez beamed. “Exactly!”

The remaining courses became progressively stranger.

The main dish looked like a roasted tentacle covered in dark sauce, though Axel decided asking what animal it had belonged to might ruin his appetite. One of the side dishes contained pale mushrooms that occasionally twitched when disturbed with a fork, which Pugsley found tremendously entertaining.

Wednesday ate without complaint.

Morticia remained perfectly elegant.

Gomez enthusiastically recommended everything.

Under the family’s expectant gazes, Axel sampled each dish at least once. He quickly discovered a consistent pattern: Addams food looked like evidence from a supernatural crime scene, yet somehow tasted only unusual rather than genuinely awful.

The final dessert was almost reassuring by comparison.

Almost.

Lurch brought out a chocolate cake shaped like a small grave.

Across the top, someone had written REST IN PEACE in white frosting.

Pugsley immediately asked for the corner with the tiny candy tombstone.

Axel finished dinner with the strange realization that the meal had required more concentration than fighting certain ghosts. Every bite had forced him to ignore generations of human instinct warning him that whatever was on his plate should probably not be consumed. By the end, he was mentally exhausted but still alive.

After dinner, everyone moved into the drawing room.

Gomez settled comfortably onto a sofa, lit another cigar, and released a thin ribbon of smoke toward the ceiling. Morticia sat nearby with effortless grace, Wednesday occupied a chair in the corner with her carved apple skull, and Pugsley disappeared somewhere deeper inside the house.

Axel took a seat across from Gomez.

For several seconds, nothing unusual happened.

Then Gomez casually flicked ash into a decorative skull-shaped tray.

“So, my friend,” he said, sounding as though he were discussing the weather, “how is the witch-hunting business these days?”

Axel froze.

The room became very quiet.

Wednesday looked toward him.

Morticia’s calm expression did not change, but her attention sharpened slightly.

Axel finally understood the faint caution hidden beneath their excessive hospitality.

Of course they had suspected him.

He had appeared at their front gate after dark carrying a chainsaw and a bottle of Holy Water.

From their perspective, he probably looked exactly like the kind of lunatic who would arrive announcing that the house needed to be cleansed.

Axel shook his head. “There’s been a misunderstanding.”

Gomez raised one eyebrow. “Oh?”

“I’m not a witch hunter.”

Gomez studied him.

Axel decided honesty was probably safer than trying to invent something. “I really did just move into the old mansion nearby. The main reason I wanted somewhere isolated is because I’ve managed to make enemies with a group of cultists.”

Morticia’s expression became slightly more interested.

Axel continued, “And when I drove past your place tonight, I thought this was a haunted house.”

Silence.

Gomez stared at him.

Then he exploded into laughter.

“A haunted house!”

He leaned backward, laughing hard enough that his cigar nearly slipped from his fingers. “Morticia, did you hear him? He thought we were haunted!”

Morticia’s lips curved into a genuine smile. “Our taste can occasionally give people the wrong impression, Mr. Vance.”

Wednesday looked at Axel.

“We have had ghosts.”

Gomez laughed even harder.

Axel rubbed his forehead. “That somehow doesn’t surprise me.”

Once Gomez finally recovered, something about his attitude changed completely. The exaggerated courtesy remained, but the faint guardedness disappeared, replaced by open enthusiasm. Apparently, being mistaken for a haunted house was one of the fastest ways to earn the man’s approval.

“Cultists!” Gomez exclaimed. “I knew you were interesting.”

He rose from the sofa and crossed the room in several energetic steps. Before Axel could react, Gomez slapped one hand onto his shoulder like an old friend.

“We adore neighbors with complications.”

Axel raised an eyebrow.

Gomez leaned closer conspiratorially. “The last people who lived nearby complained constantly. Trees hitting visitors, Pugsley’s pets frightening their cats, the occasional accidental explosion—endless whining.”

Morticia added calmly, “They had very little imagination.”

“Exactly!”

Gomez straightened. “Which is why we moved somewhere quieter.”

Axel decided not to ask what kind of pet Pugsley owned.

Gomez’s eyes suddenly brightened again. “Do you need help with these cultists?”

Axel hesitated.

Gomez lowered his voice as though offering access to state secrets. “We have several excellent things for discouraging unwanted guests.”

Morticia looked mildly amused.

Gomez continued, “Traps, alarms, family heirlooms, certain devices that have served the Addams line admirably for generations.”

Axel held up one hand. “I appreciate the offer.”

Wednesday spoke from the corner.

“I can help.”

Everyone looked toward her.

She raised the apple she had finished carving.

The fruit now looked disturbingly similar to a real miniature skull.

Gomez looked proud enough to burst.

Axel quickly added, “But I don’t need anything yet.”

Wednesday lowered the apple.

Gomez looked disappointed for exactly two seconds before recovering. “Of course, of course. Preparation is everything.”

“That’s basically what I’m doing,” Axel said. “I need time to settle into the new house, organize equipment, and figure out what direction the cult is moving.”

Gomez nodded enthusiastically as though Axel had just proposed an excellent business plan. “Then you must visit often.”

Before Axel could answer, Gomez grabbed both of his shoulders. “Any time you need something, the doors of the Addams home are open.”

Morticia smiled. “Neighbors should help one another.”

“Exactly!”

Gomez released him and spread his hands dramatically. “Whether you need advice, unusual equipment, a glass of poisoned apple juice, or cookies baked with the finest cemetery soil, simply knock.”

Axel decided those last two options were probably jokes.

Probably.

“Thanks,” he said. “I’ll remember that.”

And he meant it.

The Addams family was strange.

Extremely strange.

But not malicious.

Their gate opened and closed by itself, Lurch looked only loosely connected to ordinary human biology, Holy Water did absolutely nothing harmful to Gomez, and the entire mansion radiated the feeling of supernatural rules operating just beneath the surface. Whatever the Addams family was, they were clearly familiar with things outside normal human experience.

Having them as neighbors might turn out to be one of the best things about buying the old mansion.

Axel could already imagine asking Gomez about obscure supernatural artifacts or comparing certain Spirit Binding concepts with whatever bizarre family traditions existed here. There might even be useful abilities or knowledge hidden inside the Addams family’s centuries of macabre history.

For tonight, however, he had stayed long enough.

Axel rose and said his goodbyes.

Gomez personally escorted him toward the front door while Morticia offered another elegant farewell. Wednesday followed quietly behind them, close enough that Axel occasionally caught sight of her reflection in the dark windows.

He recovered his enchanted chainsaw from the foyer.

The bottle of Holy Water remained proudly displayed beside the skull on the mantel.

Axel decided Gomez could keep it.

They reached the front gate.

Axel was about to step through when he felt a small tug at the edge of his coat.

He stopped and looked down.

Wednesday stood beside him.

Her expression remained completely blank.

“That Holy Water,” she said.

Axel waited.

Wednesday looked toward the mansion.

Then back at him.

“Do you have any more?”

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