Greed

Chapter Five

AS WE WERE — finishing up with our food we saw Pugsley walk in the room with a giant red stop sign. Gomez held his finger to his lips and waited as if he were a child on Christmas Morning.

Everything was silent for moment, and then the sound of metal clashing into each other, with a few car honks, could be heard outside. "Bravo, Pugsley!" Gomez said loudly, I winced at the high screech of, what I assume is, a car front bumper scrapping the road.

Uncle shivered in his seat, the fear of such a family scaring him in the root of his core.

AFTER BREAKFAST WEDNESDAY, — Pugsley, and I, took our time walking around the mansion. Everything from the paintings, to the architecture, looked beautiful and sophisticated. However, my mind wandered to where exactly the vault could be hidden.

Wednesday led the way to an upstairs room, allowing me to walk in first, then his brother, and finally himself.

Pugsley sat down by a miniature version of a guillotine and chopped the head off of dolls. "Do you really think that's uncle Fester?" he wondered. Wednesday shrugged off his jacket, placed it neatly on a couch, and rolled up his sleeves. What surprised me was the fact that he was wearing suspenders, and even more when Wednesday suited them.

His arms were nice and muscular for his size, blue veins popping out as he worked his way around an electrical chair. I bit my lip and allowed my eyes to trail the outline of his body, slowly undressing each layer.

"Father says so . . . But I think Mother isn't sure" his words caught my attention. I put on my fake smile and sat on the couch, listening intently to every word. 'If Morticia gets suspicious, it could jeopardize this whole scheme. Damn, why couldn't she just be a gorgeously daft bimbo?'.

I made a plan to call Grandmother tonight, hopefully she could help before this situation turns messy.

Wednesday finished teetering with the wires and gave his brother a pointed look. "Pugsley, sit in the chair" he simply demanded. "Why?" My eyes widened when I realized what they were going to do.

"So we can play a game" he flatly answered. I stood up and gasped "Pugsley! No!" I placed my hands on the chubby boy, ignoring the scolding glare Wednesday shot at us. "That will kill you!" I pretended to care, ugh, all this acting is exhausting. I deserve an Oscar for the amount of effort I'm putting into this.

Much to my utter dismay (did you catch the sarcasm?) Pugsley giggled. "It won't kill me! I'm an Addams!" he gently placed my hands back to my sides and strode confidently into to the chair.

I 'nervously' bit my lip while holding my hands to my chest. The chubby boy's grin turned into a look of confusion, "Wait, what game?".

And just like the numerous times before, Wednesdays eyes shone with malice. A devilish smirk playing on his lips as his voice had no emotion but the underlining tone of excitement. "It's called . . . Is there a God?".

I wanted to smile as maliciously too, Wednesday was going to murder his own brother. I haven't had this much fun since the last son of a bitch I killed. I shook the happy memory off and force my knees to buckle and become weak as I flopped on the cushions. My whimper broke the silence while the boy strapped Pugsley in tightly and lowered a metal helmet.

"Well, back to the main point . . . If he's not Uncle Fester, then, who is he?" Thankyou Pugsley for being so brilliantly stupid. "Somebody else" Wednesday said slowly, as if he was trying to figure it out as well.

The taller boy walked over to a set of levers that were connected to the electric chair. "Wednesday" I whimpered while turning to face him, rising from the couch to lay my hands on his arm in protest.

I honestly couldn't give a shit though. In fact I wanted him to, I was begging for him to internally. Yes, I am a murderer, yes I have taken a life or two with different inhumane techniques. But I had never seen someone die from the electric chair in person.

I wanted to know if t.v depicted the blood curdling screams perfectly. I was frothing at the mouth to know how painful it would be, seeing the agony morphed on Pugsley's chubby face.

Oh what wonders would behold to know how impactful something as casually functioned as electricity would cause to a person on a neurological scale.

But, perhaps I would test my fantasies some other day . . . Right now I wasn't me.

His dark iris's looked into mine, his hand caressed my face whilst he pulled down the first lever. "Don't worry, it has to warm up first".

My heart pounded in my chest as the boy continued to activate one lever at a time. We never broke contact, and I felt his hand carefully place itself on my chin, tilting it so that I couldn't look away.

The feeling of his thumb rubbing over my bottom lip made my stomach flutter.

"W-why?" I gasped out, a cold smile etched on his own lips. "So it can kill him" I quickly think of what my character would do, and went to release Pugsley, but Wednesday moved faster. He held me tightly around my waist and chuckled.

His body moving against mine while I thrashed around. "Calm down. I won't do any permanent damage-" his voice come out in a low and serious tone.

Although I couldn't tell if he was kidding, I was quite disappointing to hear that.

With a meek squeal I looked to Pugsley with worry. 'Is that what I sound like? God, I sound like a fucking pig. Oink, oink, bitch. Hurry up and kill your bro-'