Hello everyone! Thank you so much for reading this! I want to apologize for taking so long to update it, but I've been working on new things and I've also had too much schoolwork. I hope you like this new chapter, despite the fact that it's a bit short. Enjoy!

CHAPTER 11

Their baby boy was born on a very sunny day, which Morticia considered a bad omen. This time, when her water broke, she was rushed to the hospital. There were some complications; the baby's position was upside down and its feet were at the place where its head should be.

The doctor announced to the parents-to-be that he had to perform a c-section.

"Does that mean you'll lacerate her abdomen with a scalpel and pull the baby through her insides?" Gomez asked enthusiastically.

"Technically yes, although that's a very... extreme way to put it, Mr. Addams."

"Cara mia, isn't it thrilling?" he turned to his wife.

"Oui… Mon sauvage…" she muttered.

Gomez lost control and began to kiss her arm as the doctor watched them in a mixture of confusion, frustration, disgust and fear.

"C-section it is!" announced the father-to-be to the three other members of the family who were sitting in the waiting room. Neither of them looked particularly happy to be there; Wednesday was trying to climb on top of Lurch's head, while Grandmama was nagging about how the painfully white rooms with the bright orange chairs hurt her eyes.

"What is a c-section?" Wednesday asked her grandmother, who began to provide her with an explanation enriched with all the gory details.

Gomez insisted that he be allowed in the operation room. As the doctors were preparing the anesthetic injection, he interrupted:

"Oh, that won't be necessary."

"Excuse me?" said the surgeon.

Morticia smiled politely.

"My husband is right, doctor. I won't need anesthesia. You can put that aside."

"Ma'am, you do realize that we are going to cut through your flesh" the doctor remarked.

"Of course! And I do not want to miss any of it!" she answered delightfully.

Unfortunately, she didn't manage to convince them, and she watched them shove the needle in her arm before she immersed in a state of unconsciousness. When she woke up, she felt a strong, sharp pain in her lower abdomen. She let out a sigh - the pleasure that pain brought her had come in the most unsuitable moment.

They brought her the baby and lay it in her arms. He was plump, pale like herself and some gold fuzz was visible on his head. Gomez, who was standing next to her, smiled and felt a tear streaming down his face.

"He reminds me of my brother" he whispered as he leaned over and kissed the top of her head. "Fester looked just like our baby when he was little. Only he didn't have any hair."

"He's beautiful" she remarked.

Soon, they took him home. Another room, quite similar to Wednesday's, was prepared for the little boy. He was a very quiet and peaceful baby, as opposed to his sister, who loved attempting to murder everyone around her. The new baby wanted nothing but to eat and sleep. He only started to whimper when he was hungry; and he was hungry quite often.

Morticia quickly realized that her own milk was not enough for the insatiable little boy. She breastfed him more than twenty times a day, and he greedily devoured his portion. But then he cried, and it was clear that he needed a supplement. Gomez decided to help. He took a feeding bottle, filled it with a deadly mixture of vodka, tonic and lemonade and handed it to his son. The baby bolted it down hungrily and let out a burp full of satisfaction.

Soon, the twenty feeds a day became fifteen, then ten, and then they dropped to about five. Gomez's cocktail was doing the trick; it was about time, as Morticia didn't have much milk left and Gomez didn't have much patience. He wanted his wife back, and the fact that she would stick around the whole day with a baby sucking on her breast meant that he couldn't have her. He would go lock himself in his special room and play with his trains furiously. He had decided that nobody else was to enter this private room except from his loyal assistant, Thing.

But the boy was now growing up, and Morticia was able to return to her usual activities. After a long time they spent considering several names for their son, she and her husband decided to call him Pugsley. The months passed, and soon little Pugsley was a toddler with chubby cheeks and spiky blond hair. Morticia often wondered about that hair color - both she and her husband had pitch-black hair, and this result was a mystery. But she loved her little boy either way, and she was always happy to watch him and his sister play.

Wednesday had grown too. She was now almost four years old. At first, the new baby didn't interest her, but after a while she found several ways to involve him in her games. She would use all kinds of weapons and murderous devices on him, and he would gladly play along. On cold winter nights, Gomez would sit on the couch by the fireplace, his wife lying on his lap, and he would smile at his children, who were running around the living room holding knives and daggers.

Morticia made sure that she told Wednesday and Pugsley a bedtime story every night. She was a gifted narrator, and she made her stories come alive in front of her children's eyes.

"And so the witch lured Hansel and Gretel into the candy house by promising them more sweets… And she told them to look in the oven."

Wednesday's eyes widened as she imagined the fiery hell in front of Hansel and Gretel's eyes. Morticia continued.

"And she was about to push them in, when lo and behold! Hansel pushed the poor defenseless witch into the oven instead, where she was burnt alive, writhing in agony! Now, Wednesday and Pugsley… What do you think that feels like?"

Pugsley, who had found the witch to be truly adorable, started crying when he heard about her tragic fate.

"Mother," said Wednesday, "he's only a child."

Morticia took her little boy in her arms and comforted him.

"Don't cry, Pugsley. It's just a story. A true witch would know better. She would never get tricked into such a situation."

Pugsley looked at her with red eyes.

"Come on now dear. Time for bed. Say goodnight to your sister!"

"Night, Wenzie!" he said.

Wednesday rolled her eyes. Pugsley could never pronounce her name correctly.

"Two years old and he still talks like a baby. If I hadn't seen mother carrying him all those months, I would assume he was adopted" she thought.

Darkness was falling around the mansion and the children were sleeping peacefully. Gomez was lying on the bed, chains wrapped around his arms and legs and an impatient expression on his face.

"That bedtime story took you forever, querida" he remarked.

Morticia smirked as she unzipped her dress. She let it slide off, revealing her black laced lingerie and her leather corset, also black.

"Leather?" asked Gomez.

She opened a drawer in her bedside table and pulled out a red leather whip.

"Leather" she assured him.

Her husband smiled widely. This was going to be fun.