Here's the bonus chapter for reaching 1350 Power Stones!
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The day of the execution had arrived.
The sky dawned gray, with no trace of the sun. A thick mist covered the Addams mansion gardens like a gloomy veil, almost symbolic.
Luke, Wednesday, and Enid descended the stairs together just before six in the morning.
Luke walked with a slight frown and squinted eyes, as if the light itself was a personal offense.
"Why the face?" asked Wednesday with a slight tilt of her head, without breaking her stride.
"It's vacation and I have to get up at six in the morning…" snapped Luke, who was far from being a morning person.
Wednesday walked to his right; Enid, to his left. Both glanced at each other and thought the same thing: Here we go…
"Why do we have to go? Why do they do executions this early?" Luke insisted, dragging his words.
"There are several reasons," Wednesday replied without changing her tone, completely used to Luke's morning complaints. "One, my father and mother are key members of the council. Even you are... Two, if someone tries to rescue them, we need to be there. Three, the time is normal. It makes sense for something this important to happen first thing in the day. You're the only one who hates waking up early."
"I went to sleep at four. I slept less than two hours. Not even vampires live like this," muttered Luke, rubbing his eyes. It wasn't that he was lazy or anything, his schedule was just completely out of sync with normal people.
"Being a outcast with a green aura, you can function at full capacity with just an hour or two of sleep... Of course, it's not recommended over a long period, but for one day, you'll be fine," said Wednesday.
"I know, I know…" murmured Luke with a grimace. He was in peak condition, but that didn't mean he liked waking up early or skipping sleep.
"And on top of that, I'm going to have to eat your grandmother's food…" he added.
Wednesday slightly turned her head, raising an eyebrow. "Still not used to her cooking?"
"Of course not. Calling it cooking is an insult to professional chefs," replied Luke, recalling Eudora Addams' witchy concoctions, like yesterday's black soup with things that moved.
"Then make your own breakfast," said Wednesday sharply.
Luke scoffed, "You're so snippy today. Could you be in a bad mood from waking up early too?"
Enid, who had been listening with an amused smile, chimed in in a light voice, "If you want, I'll make you your favorite breakfast. Scrambled eggs with bacon, toast, and raspberry jam, right? We've got time."
Luke looked at her with a mix of surprise and gratitude, "Really?"
"Of course," Enid nodded cheerfully, as if it were a small victory. She could tell he was tired, grumpy, or both, and she also knew that small gestures were a silent part of her plan to win him back.
"I accept, thanks," said Luke, nodding with a slight smile. Then he turned to Wednesday with a raised eyebrow, "See? That's how you should act."
Wednesday shot him a death glare, "I'm not your mother, and I'm not going to feed your laziness over something as basic as frying a couple of eggs."
"Hey, I'm not lazy," grumbled Luke, placing a hand on his chest as if carrying the weight of the world. "It's already enough to be the pillar of this war. Do you have any idea how stressful it is to carry the fate of humanity?"
To be fair, he wasn't exaggerating much. Since the days of Nevermore, Luke had been the greatest scourge of the Spellmans. He had not only exposed them but also killed demons and personally eliminated several of the Spellmans' key figures.
Yes, you could say he was the axis of the resistance.
Enid chuckled softly at his dramatics, "Then you've earned it. Let me handle it."
"Still…" said Luke, thoughtful, "Let me help you with breakfast. You don't know the kitchen, where the civilized ingredients are... and I don't want to leave you alone with Wednesday's grandma… she's, let's say, a bit extravagant."
"Perfect," said Enid, happily. It was clear she liked the idea of making breakfast with Luke.
Wednesday watched them in silence.
She wasn't jealous. Not really. Enid was her best friend, and she herself had proposed the polyamorous relationship, so as not to lose her… or watch her suffer.
But that didn't mean she wanted to be left out of making breakfast with Luke. Something they had never done together.
"I'm coming too," Wednesday said suddenly.
"You too?" asked Luke, raising an eyebrow.
"Yes. I have no interest in eating my grandmother's culinary recipes this morning," said Wednesday in her typical neutral tone.
Luke smiled, amused. "Weren't you the one devoted to black soups with floating eyeballs?"
Without warning, Wednesday pinched his arm. "I got used to normal breakfasts. Your fault."
"That sounded like a compliment disguised as a threat," murmured Luke with a smile, rubbing his arm.
After preparing breakfast together, the three of them sat at a round black wooden table, each with their plate in front of them.
The aroma of breakfast filled the dining room with a warmth that contrasted with the grim decor.
In addition to them, there were: Gomez, Morticia, Fester, Pugsley, Eudora, and Natasha. The only one missing was Nyra, who was still asleep, as any good nocturnal creature would be.
Fester was the first to speak, while devouring a piece of bread soaked in a thick, oddly colored liquid that Luke and Enid silently agreed not to ask about.
"Today's a great day," said Fester enthusiastically, his mouth half full. "It's been years since I've seen an official execution by the Council! And not just anyone… the Spellmans! Psychics of ancient lineage. Gotta dress for the occasion. What do you think they'll use to kill them?"
"I hope they use the guillotine," said Pugsley, eyes still perpetually sunken, stabbing his sausage hard with a knife. His gaze had grown slightly more disturbed ever since he found out Tuesday was actually Luke.
"Ah, the guillotine…" nodded Gomez with a nostalgic smile, like he was reminiscing about a fine aged wine. "A classic, son. Lethal, swift, and foolproof, if the blade is sharp enough."
"Too quick. No pain. There's no lesson to be learned in an instant death," said Wednesday.
"What if they burn them?" suggested Fester, thrilled. "Yes! Pour dark oil on them and foooosh! A human bonfire in the name of outcast order!"
Gomez let out a loud laugh, gently slapping the table with his palm. "Another classic! Burning witches never goes out of style, though this time it's not out of superstition, but by court order."
"What if they bury them alive and wait for the worms to do the rest?" suggested Natasha, crossing her legs elegantly, as if discussing the weather.
"Painful? Yes, but far too slow. The Council prefers punishments that are symbolically forceful, not eternal," said Morticia, bringing the cup to her lips.
Natasha nodded slightly. "Good point. Too slow for outcast bureaucracy."
"I'd go with hanging," said Wednesday then, as casually as someone choosing coffee over tea.
Everyone looked at her. Luke swallowed a bite of his toast, knowing that whatever was coming next wouldn't be exactly refined.
"But not a proper hanging," Wednesday continued with her signature macabre calm. "No precise measurements for a clean neck break. I'm talking old school. Unstable platform. Rough rope. Short drop. One that doesn't snap the neck. One that doesn't kill them instantly."
"Let them kick around…" murmured Fester, with a slight maniacal grin.
Wednesday nodded. "Exactly. A slow strangulation. Spasms. Convulsions. Gradual silence as the face turns purple. A death with a message."
"I like your style, my little viper," said Gomez with a crooked smile. "Poetic and brutal. Just the way it should be for people who make deals with demons."
"You've definitely inherited good taste," Morticia approved, nodding softly.
"And what do you think?" Luke asked Enid in a low voice, turning his head toward her.
Enid blinked a few times, glancing around with an uncertain expression. It was the first time she was spending real time with her best friend's family.
Even though the outcast world was harsh and violent when it came to criminals and other matters, she herself had fought in battles, killed criminals in battles, and witnessed horrifying things, this felt different.
Casually debating over toast and coffee which method of execution was more fun or poetic felt surreal.
Even Luke, who had killed countless enemies without flinching and bore the weight of being one of the war's pillars, looked slightly out of place. He had a normie soul deep down: video games, movies, comics, TV shows. His cold efficiency in eliminating threats could match Wednesday's, yes… but he'd never discuss the artistry of death while spreading raspberry jam.
"I just want to finish my breakfast before someone mentions another execution method," Enid finally murmured.
Gomez let out a hearty laugh. "Now that's the attitude of a sensible girl!"
Fester, on the other hand, looked disappointed. "Bah, overly sensitive youth…"
"Sensitive?" said Luke, turning his head slightly toward him with a raised eyebrow. "Shut up, baldy. Enid's fought in more battles than you can count on your fingers… Are you just jealous of her hair?"
Fester squinted with a maniacal grin. "Ah… so you're defending your second girlfriend now, Poe? You want to fight? You're provoking me, pretty boy."
As he said this, Fester slowly rose from his chair, eyes gleaming with excitement, as if he were waiting for someone to finally give him permission to blow everything up.
Luke stood up too, completely unafraid, a crooked smile forming on his face. "Oh, looks like we're adding a third execution to today's schedule. Want a rope, want me to set you on fire, or should I behead you with Eclipse?"
Despite the imminent chaos, Enid smiled faintly. That Luke would defend her like that, without hesitation, filled her with a warmth she thought she'd lost long ago.
"Sit down, Fester," said Natasha firmly, setting her cup down on the table. Her sharp eyes locked onto his.
Fester tensed for a moment, then slumped his shoulders like a scolded child.
"Alright… just because you asked, Natasha…" he mumbled, returning to his seat with a foolish grin, clearly delighted she had addressed him directly.
Luke looked at him with a disdainful grimace. 'What a simp,' he thought. And just as he was about to fire off another insult, a cold voice cut through the air.
"Luke. Don't make trouble."
Wednesday didn't raise her voice, but that unshakable firmness only she possessed was enough. "The last thing we need is a fight that destroys the entire kitchen."
Luke glanced at her sideways, defiant. "And what if I want a morning fight? Why should I listen to you?"
Wednesday didn't blink. "I can't force you to do anything, but you know I can revoke certain privileges once night falls."
Luke raised an eyebrow, his expression a mix of scandal and amusement.
"Did you really just say that in front of your whole family… while we're having breakfast?"
"I find it an efficient way to enforce discipline," said Wednesday, sipping her coffee like it was the most natural thing in the world.
Luke made a face and muttered under his breath, "That's a new low…"
With a sigh, he sat back down, leaving the fight with Fester behind. Wednesday just shot him a victorious glance, saying nothing.
After breakfast, they had a few minutes before it was time to leave.
"Happy?" Luke asked, arms crossed, standing beside her as they waited for the others.
Wednesday turned her face slightly. "Happy? Why?"
"Two people who murdered your pet are being executed today, legally. Isn't that great? Justice is finally being served," said Luke, with a slight smile.
Wednesday stared at him silently for a second. Then arched an eyebrow, "Funny. You didn't seem to enjoy the breakfast debate about execution methods… but now you throw out a line like that."
Luke tilted his head and finally shrugged.
"It's true they killed Nero," Wednesday continued, with no trace of emotion. "But I don't think that crime alone is enough for me to take pleasure in their deaths. I'm not that vindictive."
She went on, her tone even sharper. "He was a scorpion. An arachnid. A good companion, yes, but not a human. Their real crimes have nothing to do with me directly. They were accomplices in demon pacts, helped their family in recent attacks, and caused actual deaths. That's what condemns them. Not my pet."
"Alright, alright, sorry… I was just saying," murmured Luke, raising his hands in mock surrender. Then he frowned slightly, feigning hurt. "You're being really hard on me today. Was I that bad?"
As he spoke, he stepped a bit closer and gently wrapped an arm around her waist.
Wednesday looked at him, and her expression softened just slightly. Her fingers slid down to his wrist, responding to the gesture even if she wouldn't fully admit it.
"No more than usual… I'm just a little anxious about the execution. And the possibility of a rescue…" she murmured, low enough that only Luke could hear.
Luke was slightly surprised to hear Wednesday admit she was anxious.
"Don't worry… if someone does come to rescue them and they get past the council's defenses, we'll kill them," said Luke softly, placing a hand on her pale cheek.
Wednesday met his gaze with her dark eyes. "Good," she murmured, and nodded.
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Every 450 power stones extra chapter