[Time skip 5 years]
[Perseus POV]
Graveyards at dusk are quiet in a way nothing else is.
The kind of quiet that makes your ears ring.
The trees around us are skeletal, stripped bare by autumn's bite, their shadows long and jagged under a bruised purple sky. A low fog rolls in, curling around the weathered gravestones like something alive. The air smells like cold earth and dry leaves—faintly metallic.
Crows perch like sentries along the rusted fence line, watching with those beady little eyes that seem way too intelligent. A single lantern swings from an iron post nearby, its flame stuttering in the breeze like it's reconsidering its life choices.
And in the middle of all this?
The sound of a shovel hitting wood is oddly satisfying.
Thud.
Scrape.
Crack.
"Careful," I say casually, leaning over the edge of the open grave. "If you break the coffin, it'll ruin the surprise."
Pugsley grunts, putting his whole weight behind the next dig. "You could help me!"
I smile at him while looking at my nails "Nah, don't want to ruin my nails."
A pale hand bursts through the soil and shattered wood like something straight out of a B-horror flick.
Wednesday hauls herself up from the casket, her expression calm, maybe a little annoyed. Dirt clings to her braid and the collar of her black dress.
"Six minutes and twenty-two seconds," she says flatly. "You're both slow."
"I didn't want to ruin your peaceful moment." I reply, brushing soil off her. "Can't rush perfection."
She stares at me, unblinking. "Next time, I want the tomb deeper and a corpse in it."
…Welcome to my life.
Today's mission? Just a little underground challenge Wednesday designed to "test our coordination under pressure." Because digging up your friend is, apparently, the new trust fall.
Five years. It's been five years since Morticia agreed to help me train and let me stay with the family.
Since then, I've been buried alive, thrown from the balcony a few times, nearly stabbed during a misunderstanding involving a fencing match, and also had tea with a severed hand named Thing.
Surprisingly, I'm still alive and sane.
Honestly, knowing how eccentric they are helped a lot, so I just took all these situations as additions to my dad lore.
The Addams family isn't exactly what I'd call "normal" (understatement of the century), but somewhere between the chaos, traps, sarcasm, and death-themed décor… I found my place.
Wednesday has become—well, I wouldn't say "softer," but she doesn't actively try to poison me anymore and she doesn`t try to kill me whenever I touch her. That counts.
Pugsley's my occasional friend, whenever he doesn`t want to kill me, because I "stole his sister". We do a lot of activity together! Like launching grenades in the lake for fishing.
As for Morticia, she has been an excellent teacher—equal parts grace and grave danger and Gomez? He calls me "son" when he's in a good mood and "target" when he wants to fence.
Through my teacher Morticia, I've made a lot of progress and figured out a few interesting things.
Well firstly, no ghost ancestor showed up to train me like Wednesday had in the TV series.
As for why? Let's just say I found out why the Addams and a very small handful of other families hold the ancestral title.
For ordinary humans, the fate of the soul after death is uncertain. But for outcasts, it is different. Their souls ascend to a dimension known as the Spirit Realm, where they can live in peace for eternity. They cannot return to the real world, except in rare cases such as rituals or extreme conditions. But the price to pay for both sides is always very high.
But here is the special part. If many of your ancestors had high mental strength, then congratulations, you hit the genetic jackpot. Those ancestors form a kind of spiritual network and, through your bloodline or by marrying into one like the Addams, they can support you and your descendants. They offer training, appear in dreams, and sometimes lend direct help in a crisis. No sacrifices, no rituals, no creepy summoning required. They simply appear when needed most.
That is why ancient families like the Addams are respected, not just for their power but for their legacy.
It also explains why, in the TV series, an Addams ancestor spirit appeared to guide Wednesday when she needed it and even saved her.
Sadly, the family I am supposed to share a bloodline with does not have such things. Still, like all other families, they have books written by ancestors filled with their knowledge and insights.
Sadly, for the second time, Morticia went to ask if they could share some of those books to help me, and the head family said no.
When Gomez and Fester (Gomez's brother) heard about this, they both went out personally and came back snickering with the entire library of that family…
How they convinced them was still a mystery to me, but I was extremely grateful. I nearly cried from happiness.
It is one thing to discover and train your power blindly, and another to train with the knowledge and insight of people who had similar gifts.
The mystery was solved the next day, when members of the outcast council came to the Addams house and asked Gomez and the others to return the books they had stolen, swearing on their family name that they had not copied the information anywhere else…
So, I lost my only shortcut to learning my gift faster, and while the adults argued, I stared at the outcast council members with tears and sadness… fucking morons who underestimated children and didn't bother checking or anything else if I had copied the books. They probably thought kids were too dumb or too innocent for that. So, while the adults discussed and made their oaths, I, the sweet sad child, was ignored.
When they finally left, my sadness vanished instantly. I checked my phone, and guess why? I had stayed up the entire previous night taking pictures of every single page and uploading them to my iCloud for safekeeping.
As for how I knew they'd come today to ask for the book back? Honestly, I didn't. But I do know that in this house, things get destroyed fast, and in a few weeks, most of those books would've been burned, cut into pieces, or otherwise ruined. You call it paranoia. I call it prevention… and trust issues.
Through those books, Morticia's help, and a lot of trial and error, I gained a much deeper understanding of my gift.
To sum up what I have learned in these past few years:
I can draw pretty much anything anywhere and bring it into reality if I spend mental strength to do it.
What actually comes out depends on how detailed the drawing is and how complicated the concept behind it is. For example, I could draw Thanos's gauntlet with all the Infinity Gems, but if I tried to summon it with the concept of erasing half the universe, my mental strength would drain instantly. Even then I would barely scratch the surface of what it would need. So I lower my expectations and right now the best I can get is a fancy gauntlet that does absolutely nothing.
If I summon entities, they come with a basic consciousness and can follow simple commands. The more mental strength I pour into them, the smarter and more capable they become.
One other thing I learned thanks to several "tests" Wednesday lovingly set up is that my gift has a passive trigger. If I am in danger, it automatically uses my mental strength to summon one of my drawings nearby to protect me.
Also, unlike Xavier in the TV series, my gift doesn't seem to have any prophetic perk. No future visions, no cryptic warnings—just ink, paper, and whatever my imagination (and mental strength) can handle. Does that mean I got a weaker version of his gift? Not really. Mine leans more toward combat and support, while his is geared toward prophecy.
When I wasn't testing, reading books or experimenting, I spent my time filling pages and categorizing my creations for quick access.
Luckily, Morticia gave me an artifact that had been lying in the Addams vault.
It is a simple black leather book, but for me it is priceless!
Why? Well, when you open it and start flipping through, you quickly notice something strange — there is no end. No matter how long you browse, you never reach the final page. It is perfect for me because I can draw as much as I want. If I dislike a drawing, I simply tear out the page and it vanishes completely.
There is another feature that makes it even better. If I focus and think about a specific object, the book automatically opens to the page where that exact drawing is stored.
Still, I can't remember hundreds of drawings, so my clever mind came up with something. I organized all my drawings under categories like weapons, entities, and so on. Now the only thing I need to remember is the title of the category, and I am instantly at the right page.
So that's the summary of the past few years. And now, after our fun activity in the cemetry, we're just sitting down to dinner.
The long, candle-lit table stretches before us, packed with food that looks extravagant and slightly suspicious… I will not lie at the beginning I puked and now I just eat stuff that seems comestible and send my creations to fetch food from the nearest restaurant.
Pugsley is already digging into his third plate like it's a battle for survival. Gomez chats animatedly with Grandma Amely about a ridiculous duel he once had with a French vampire over wine quality. Morticia listens, gracefully sipping red wine and only half-smiling, as if she's heard the story twenty times.
Wednesday is sitting beside me, more silent than usual.
She picks at her food without really eating. Her eyes are a little distant, and her expression is unreadable. More unreadable than usual, that is.
After a while, she finishes her plate, sets her fork down with quiet precision, and stands up without a word. She walks off, leaving behind only the sound of her chair sliding back.
Morticia glances after her with a sigh and then looks at me.
"She's a little... out of sorts," she says gently. "The idea of you going to Nevermore while she's stuck in a regular school doesn't sit well with her. She won't say it, but she hates being left behind."
I nod, swallowing with difficulty down the last bite of my food closing my eyes. "Got it."
I wait a few moments, then excuse myself from the table and follow the path she took—down the hallway, past the library, and into the family graveyard, where we'd been earlier today.
While walking, I try to plan out how this conversation might go—what to say, how to say it. The biggest issue is that I'll be leaving soon for Nevermore Academy.
All Outcasts who awaken their gifts or bloodline are required to attend, and Wednesday… well, she hasn't awakened hers. Which means she can't follow.
In the TV series, she already had her psychic visions before attending Nevermore Academy. I assume she awakened them while still at a normie school but likely kept them hidden from her parents so she wouldn't have to follow in her mother's footsteps.
But then I showed up and somehow, things changed.
At first, she tried to kill me. Then she challenged me in everything. And now we have gotten… close. I wouldn't exactly say lovers, but there's a connection. And before anyone says anything—I didn't do anything!
Seriously, if you have seen the movie or the TV series, you know how she is. She's direct, blunt, almost clinical in the way she handles feelings—but if she "likes" you, you know it. Trust me, I didn't flirt first. She just doesn't do subtle.
And now, the idea of me going off to Nevermore while she is stuck in some normie school? Yeah, that probably burns. The majority probably because of pride.
I find her sitting on a crumbling stone bench, half in shadow, facing one of the older graves.
She doesn't move. Doesn't acknowledge me. Her posture is perfect—back straight, legs crossed at the ankles, hands folded in her lap like a gothic statue left behind by time. The moonlight brushes her pale skin in silver tones, casting a soft glow over her black dress. Her hair is braided, neat as always, but there's a small loose strand tucked behind her ear, like something tried to break free and was gently placed back into order.
I take a slow breath and approach. She still doesn't move when I stop in front of her.
The moonlight casts sharp shadows across the old graveyard, and she sits like she's part of it—calm, unbothered, silent. Her chin is slightly raised. Her eyes don't meet mine, but I know she sees me.
I extend my hand, palm open. "Come with me, Darkling."
************
Author Note:
Heads up for returning readers, I have updated some rules and concepts in the last chapter so you might want to give it a quick reread. :)
Also I changed a bit how his power works after getting inspired by batman_3_3_, Mitchell_Moroni and Kaydo_XD (hopefully I got everyone). If something is unclear or could be improved, let me know.