It's Called Murder- wednesday

1.

It was a dark and gloomy day, just the kind the universal law demanded for something like this to happen. A weird tension lay in the air like something had hidden in the crooks and crannies and was not about to creep out into the wild. Anticipation lingered with a bone-aching, gut-wrenching intensity, and it all seemed to have waited for the black limousine to pass the stern old gate that towered into the air like a mended warning. In the distance, a building was guarded by a fence of unpassable fog that blurred its outline and stretched it grotesquely as it grew with every inch it neared. A soft drizzle complemented the atmosphere as the limousine came to a halt with a jolt, little drops splashing against the windows, where a pair of dark eyes watched them as they flowed down like tiny rivers of  tears from the boy's eyes.

A cold hand clasped his as if it could make the ruin of such a marvelous day any less scandalous, and it was the very hand that had caused this misery in the first place. But it had been in his defense. The boy glanced at his twin sister, her equally dark eyes as indifferent as always, but her stone-plastered frown was soft. Mourn Addams, the strange tiny boy carrying the pain of the world on his shoulders like it was the most delicious task of joy, was the only one who could make Wednesday's high walls crumble with just a single of his countless teardrops. One could say emotions would equal weakness, but every tear, every single drop falling from painfully pretty eyes could be a wreaking ball or dagger straight to the heart. His sadness was Mourn's greatest weapon and dosed right, it could make kingdoms fall. Fall for him.
"It's going to be all right, my little suicidal," his mother coed as her slender fingers stroked the skin of his cheek under the watchful glare of his sister.
"Don't pester him ," the girl huffed in protection.
"I'm his mother,  I'm allowed to pester him with my love."
Mourn glanced at his mother. His obvious affection for the tall and dark woman was one of the few things that differed him from his sister. She hated human touch and did not need attachment. He craved it with all his heart.
" I still don't understand why you speak of Nevermore so highly," Wednesday spoke up, her voice as monotone as ever.
"You'll love it there. You'll see. Just like your father and I as we met."
"That's right, Cara Mia." Gomez Addams agreed, his short arm embracing his wife's frame in adoration.
Wednesday clicked her tongue as Lurch, the butler, opened the door to her right. She always made clear when her opinion differed.

The twins' platforms kissed the mud simultaneously;  she was ready to stomp down anyone, his precious inches getting him closer to the clouds. Tiny sprinkles covered the expensive black leather immediately, leaving their layers of dark clothes untouched as if scared to add color to the shades of black. Mourn and Wednesday thrived in darkness; every washed-out color made them shine and matched their souls.

Their gazes were equally skeptical as they eyed the tall woman who had stepped out of the building, her whole essence just as light as they were dark, except for blood-red lips that curled into a polite smile that didn't reach her blue eyes. Nor did the one their mother mirrored it with while she stepped next to her children, burying slender fingers into her son's dark curls, pointy black nails massaging his scalp to soothe him.
In her shadow stood her husband, Gomez, who was just as outstandingly short as Morticia was tall, his arm lovingly wrapped around his wifés waist while his other hand kept the youngest sibling at bay.
The kooky twins eyed the old building in mutual disgust. It looked too much like their home, which could only mean misery.

Nevermore Academy was a place for the weird and the wicked, the outcast and peculiarly gifted. A stern castle that had housed generations of the Addams family in its halls. From an outsider's perspective, Nevermore would be the perfect place for the Addams twins. The boy with the rainclouds and the girl with the visions seemed weird enough to fit in perfectly, but to agree with that would be entirely out of character for both Mourn and Wednesday. So Mourn Addams was in tears.