𝐁𝐚𝐬𝐞𝐝 𝐨𝐧: 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐀𝐝𝐝𝐚𝐦𝐬 𝐅𝐚𝐦𝐢𝐥𝐲 𝟐
((M!Wednesday))
Lilith and the Addams family try to rescue Uncle Fester from his gold-digging wife, who also happens to be a serial killer whose specialty is killing rich men to collect their inhe...
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˚₊𓆩༺🕷༻𓆪₊˚
𝔻𝔼𝔹𝔹𝕀𝔼 stood before the Addams Family, her voice tinged with a false sincerity that masked the underlying menace. "I don't want to hurt anybody. I don't enjoy hurting anybody," she began, her tone almost rehearsed, as if she had practiced this speech countless times. "I don't like guns, or bombs, or electric chairs. But sometimes people just won't listen, and so I have to use persuasion and slides."
She turned towards the screen, flicking it on to reveal a picture of her late parents. "My parents, Sharon and Dave. Generous, doting, or were they?" Debbie's voice dripped with bitterness and resentment, her eyes narrowing as she gazed at the image. "All I ever wanted was a Ballerina Barbie in her pretty pink tutu."
Wednesday, seated among his family in the electric chairs, watched Debbie's theatrics with a mixture of disdain and mild boredom. She had seen her share of villains, and Debbie's attempt at justifying her actions seemed almost comical to her.
Debbie clicked to the next slide, revealing a younger version of herself tearing open a birthday gift. "My birthday. I was 10, and do you know what they got me? Malibu Barbie," she continued bitterly, her voice tinged with lingering resentment over a childhood disappointment.
"Malibu Barbie."
"The nightmare."
"The nerve."
Debbie paced back and forth in front of the Addams Family, frustration evident in her voice as she clicked through slides on the projector.
"That's not what I wanted. That's not who I was. I was a ballerina. Graceful, delicate," Debbie lamented, her tone tinged with bitterness. Wednesday, always observant, lifted an eyebrow in silent questioning, prompting Debbie to continue.
"They had to go," she declared, clicking to reveal a slide of a house engulfed in flames. Wednesday's expression remained stoic, inwardly thankful that Lilith wasn't present to witness the disturbing image, knowing it would stir painful memories for her. Debbie clicked to another slide, revealing a man in a doctor's uniform. "My first husband, the heart surgeon. All day long, coronaries, transplants," she explained, her voice carrying a hint of resentment.
Grandma, ever the sage observer, interjected softly, "What about your needs?"
Debbie's response was sharp and dismissive. "Sorry about dinner, Deb. The Pope has a cold," she retorted, clicking to reveal a shadowy image of a man with an axe.
