Chapter 6
They're Creepy and They're Spooky, Mysterious and Kooky
Jake was mid-push-up when the doorbell rang.
He collapsed immediately.
The mansion's acoustics gave it dramatic weight.
Ding. Dong.
Kara, who had been spotting him (and absolutely not using even 1% of her strength), glanced toward the hallway.
"Expecting someone?"
Jake rolled onto his back, gasping.
"If it's Damage Control billing us, I'm hiding."
Ding. Dong.
The sound echoed again.
Slow.
Measured.
Polite.
But somehow… theatrical.
Jake stood, wiped sweat off his forehead, and headed downstairs.
Kara followed.
He opened the door.
And paused.
"…Oh."
Standing on the porch was a family.
Perfectly arranged.
Perfectly composed.
Perfectly unsettling.
At the center stood a man with a pencil mustache and eyes sparkling with dangerous enthusiasm.
He wore a sharp suit like it was tailored by temptation itself.
Beside him — a statuesque woman in a black dress that clung in ways that defied physics and modesty simultaneously.
Her expression was serene.
Her gaze was sharp.
Her lips curved faintly, like she knew something about you.
Behind them stood:
A tall, gaunt butler who looked… embalmed.
A cheerful boy with far too much energy.
A girl in a dark, unimpressive dress.
And yet—
Jake's brain short-circuited.
Because the goth girl looked suspiciously like Jenna Ortega.
Not identical.
But enough to make him question his moral stability.
She stared at him with complete, unblinking assessment.
"…You're new," she said flatly.
Jake swallowed.
"Uh. Yes."
The mustached man stepped forward enthusiastically and seized Jake's hand.
"My dear boy! Welcome to the neighborhood!" he exclaimed. "I am Gomez."
He gestured grandly.
"My radiant wife, Morticia."
Morticia inclined her head slightly.
"A pleasure," she purred.
Jake blinked.
Behind them—
An older bald man leaned toward a disembodied hand perched on his shoulder.
"Did you hear that, Thing?" he whispered conspiratorially. "New blood."
The hand waved.
Jake did not react.
He refused to react.
The boy grinned widely.
"I'm Pugsley! Want to see something explode later?"
Kara stepped forward smoothly.
"That won't be necessary."
The goth girl continued staring.
"You look overwhelmed," she said to Jake.
He blinked again.
"I'm processing."
"That's unfortunate."
Gomez beamed.
"We heard the estate had changed hands! Tragic about your grandfather, marvelous fellow. Terrific posture."
Jake froze internally.
"…You knew him?"
"Oh yes!" Gomez said brightly. "We've shared many investments."
Morticia's fingers lightly traced Gomez's lapel.
"And moonlit duels."
Jake made the mistake of glancing at them for too long.
They were looking at each other.
The way two people look at each other when they are five seconds away from scandal in any century.
He cleared his throat aggressively.
"So. Uh. Neighborly visit?"
"Indeed!" Gomez clapped. "And perhaps… opportunity."
He turned and gestured dramatically toward the fields.
"That farm, my boy, is going to consume capital like a starving kraken."
Jake stiffened.
"…It's a fixer-upper."
"It's a financial black hole," Gomez corrected cheerfully. "Which I adore."
Morticia stepped closer.
"Gomez enjoys hopeless ventures," she said softly. "Especially when they bloom."
Kara folded her arms slightly.
"And you're offering?"
"Investment!" Gomez declared. "Minor equity, shared profit, optional chaos."
Jake blinked.
"Optional chaos?"
"We're flexible."
Behind them, the butler groaned faintly.
Jake looked at him.
"…Is he okay?"
"He's perfectly fine," Morticia replied. "Just resting."
The goth girl stepped forward.
"Wednesday," she introduced herself.
Jake's brain whispered don't stare.
He stared.
"How are you hot in an unimpressive dress?" he blurted.
Silence.
Absolute silence.
Kara turned slowly.
Pugsley gasped in admiration.
Gomez laughed delightedly.
"Morticia, I like him!"
Morticia's eyes glittered.
"So direct."
Wednesday tilted her head.
"You're honest," she said. "That's inconvenient."
Jake covered his face.
"I didn't mean— I mean— I did mean— but not like—"
Kara elbowed him lightly.
He straightened immediately.
"Professional," he corrected weakly.
Gomez waved a dismissive hand.
"Passion is the engine of enterprise!"
He stepped closer, lowering his voice conspiratorially.
"Your grandfather understood something vital."
Jake tensed.
"And what's that?"
"That stability," Gomez said, glancing toward Kara briefly, "requires interesting neighbors."
Morticia's gaze lingered on Kara for a half-second longer than necessary.
Evaluating.
Approving.
Jake caught it.
His suspicion meter ticked upward.
"You said you invested with my grandfather," Jake said carefully. "In what?"
Gomez's smile widened.
"Potential."
That was not reassuring.
Uncle Fester leaned toward the severed hand again.
"I like him," he whispered. "He looks durable."
The hand gave a thumbs up.
Jake inhaled slowly.
"Okay," he said. "Let's assume I consider this investment. What do you get?"
Gomez spread his arms.
"Access to produce. Rural retreats. Occasional gatherings. And perhaps the pleasure of watching something grow."
Morticia added softly:
"We enjoy watching things grow."
The way she said it made even Kara glance away briefly.
Jake blinked rapidly.
Focus.
Business.
Not… whatever this is.
Wednesday looked at him again.
"You'll fail if you rush it," she said calmly.
He frowned.
"The farm?"
"Everything."
That landed.
Harder than the rest.
Kara noticed.
Gomez snapped his fingers enthusiastically.
"Marvelous! We'll send paperwork. Delightful meeting you, young steward!"
Morticia stepped forward one last time.
Her hand brushed Jake's cheek lightly.
"Try not to die," she said gently.
His brain shorted again.
The family turned dramatically and walked down the long driveway.
The zombie butler followed with dignified stiffness.
Uncle Fester whispered to the hand.
Pugsley waved enthusiastically.
Wednesday paused.
Looked back once.
Measured him.
Then left.
Silence settled over the fields.
Jake shut the door slowly.
He leaned against it.
"…I don't know which part of that was the most concerning."
Kara crossed her arms.
"You told the goth girl she was hot."
"In my defense," he said weakly, "I was ambushed."
She raised an eyebrow.
"You're terrible under pressure."
"I am excellent under pressure. That was aesthetic overload."
She almost smiled.
"Gomez as an investor?"
Jake exhaled.
"…He's not wrong about the farm being a money guzzler."
"And?"
"And if my grandfather trusted him…"
He glanced up at the ceiling.
"…Then maybe there's more history here."
Upstairs—
Another soft click echoed.
Something else had unlocked.
Jake closed his eyes briefly.
"Okay," he muttered.
"No locked-room mystery."
"Just mysterious neighbors."
Kara smirked faintly.
"Welcome to the neighborhood."
End of Chapter 6.