Uncle Fester

Wednesday woke up completely groggy, as a maid finished healing her once more.

• Kill me again, please.

The maid fell silent and let Wednesday meet Uncle Fester's gaze. Nothing would be spared her, but she had suspected that from the start.

• Uncle Fester I...
• Shh, my angel of ****, you knew this day would come. You are my favorite niece, certainly the only one, but you knew you would be handed over to me. We knew it, and for your own good, I will be as monstrous as that unfortunate day, which marked you long ago.

Wednesday nodded, resigned, yet she felt her innermost being lubricated with excitement. She remembered what she had seen as a child. Her terror wasn't feigned, but she had always wanted to know what she had once witnessed, the event that had marked her nightmares and nighttime fantasies.

Uncle Fester approached slowly, his hooked fingers brushing Wednesday's trembling jaw. The musty, old-blooded smell emanating from her gnawed clothes made her shiver—not with disgust, but with a horrible attraction. She felt her lower abdomen throb as his gaunt hand moved down her neck, lingering over the jugular vein that was beating wildly.

She parted her sheets, spread her legs.

• Here comes my only lover who haunts my nights.

Uncle Fester smiled, tempted for a moment, then shook his head.

• No, my niece, I'm the one leading the dance.

He grabbed her by the neck and pulled her back to him. She almost suffocated. Little lights exploded in front of her when he released his grip. He put a dog collar and leash on her.

Catching her breath, she smiled. She was no longer the little girl who took advantage of her uncle's false naivety. He treated her like all the women who had had the misfortune to cross his path. The terror she felt inside was so sweet and intense that she couldn't hold it back and relieved herself. She felt a warm liquid run down her thighs.

• Oh, you naughty little girl, you're terrified, aren't you? You like it?

Wednesday nodded. Fester began to lick the liquid off her thigh.

• Hmm, delicious, I love your terror. Uncle Fester slowly raised his head, his grayish tongue trailing a final trail of humiliation along Wednesday's pale thigh. His fingers tightened on the leash, pulling hard enough to arch her delicate neck.

"Look at me, little monster," he growled, his bloodshot eyes boring into hers. She obeyed, her dilated pupils reflecting the flickering candlelight and the distorted shadow of the man who dominated her existence.

She was fascinated and hypnotized like prey before the predator pounced.

• How far will you go, little one?

Her mouth dry, her body trembling with fear and excitement, she managed to say.

-Until you love me more than those who had the misfortune to suffer the consequences, I am an Addams, I belong to you, I want to be yours.

Uncle Fester let out a raspy laugh that smelled of rotten flesh, his fingers tightening on the leash, making the worn leather rattle. "Then prove it," he murmured, dragging his cracked tongue along his yellowed teeth. With a sharp jerk, he yanked the collar loose, biting into Wednesday's flesh, drawing a muffled whimper from her as she stumbled toward him, her bare knees hitting the stony ground.