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WD - Chapter 159: Uncle Fester
🕑 Added 2024-11-24 15:58:12 +0000 UTCWednesday, who was about to retreat and hide again among the bushes to attempt another decapitation attack, was surprised to see Dolores stop her retreat and charge at her despite being blind.
Dolores knew she had to seize this opportunity to get rid of Wednesday. She couldn’t let her hide again. Now that she was blind, it would be even harder to dodge the stealth attacks of the girl with the dark aura.
Despite lacking vision, she remembered where Wednesday had been earlier and could hear her labored breathing, giving her a mental idea of where she was. With her superhuman speed, the wounded Addams girl wouldn’t be able to escape.
Wednesday, knowing she couldn’t escape due to her fatigue and injuries, decided to mitigate the impact of the blow to avoid death. Before Dolores could reach her, she felt an invisible force pulling her. Recognizing it as Luke’s telekinesis, she didn’t resist and allowed herself to be carried away.
Luke, unable to control Wednesday well, had to catch her. He grabbed her by the waist, breathing a sigh of relief upon realizing he had saved her.
“Luke… stop using your powers. You’re already at your limit,” Wednesday said firmly, though deep down, her tone was almost a plea. She noticed Luke struggling to stay on his feet.
“I’m fine…” Luke said, though he was clearly far from fine. In addition to all his injuries, he felt his brain throbbing intensely.
Right now, he felt a searing pain in his brain that worsened whenever he used his psychic abilities. The pain was similar to what he experienced when using his pain induction technique—a move that inflicted intense mental agony on an enemy’s brain.
‘It’s like I’ve run out of mana,’ Luke thought, his face pale, recalling his games of League of Legends.
His metaphor was peculiar. Each time he forced his powers, it was as if he were overloading an empty mana bar, causing brutal feedback damage that tore through his own mind.
He was experiencing, for the first time, the painful reality of having run out of psychic energy—something he had previously thought impossible.
Wednesday also felt the same limitation in her energy. Normally, she would have used her dark scythe in the surprise attack on Dolores, but with so little energy, she could only summon a weak knife of darkness.
[Hide and wait for another opportunity. We need to talk through this link] Luke told Wednesday through their telepathic connection. Using telepathy also hurt, though not as much as his other techniques.
To Wednesday, this plan seemed crazy. She wouldn’t let Luke continue facing Dolores in a one-on-one battle, bearing all the burden and danger himself. However, before she could protest, he pushed her away.
Dolores was already running toward them, sharpening her senses to the maximum. She had heard their murmurs and deduced their location.
Wednesday had no choice but to hide again. If she stepped out now, she would only lower their chances of survival.
‘In just a few seconds, I’ll be able to shadow travel again,’ Wednesday thought.
If things got too dangerous, she would use shadow travel to appear beside Luke and defend him, even if it meant using her own body as a shield. Using shadow travel on Luke from this distance required a lot of energy, so that was not an option.
Dolores struck toward Luke. She couldn’t see him but could hear his breathing. This time, she wouldn’t miss!
But she missed again! Luke’s body exploded into a cloud of smoke.
‘Is he manipulating my hearing too?’ Dolores thought, her brow furrowed. As she searched for Luke’s location, she focused on accelerating the regeneration of her eyes.
“Hey, old witch, I’m over here!” Luke shouted, catching Dolores’ attention. She turned her head toward the sound, which came from the north, about 10 meters from her current position.
However, Dolores didn’t move from her spot. She kept listening, sharpening her ears. She didn’t believe that was the real Luke. Finally, she heard the sound of leaves being stepped on and, in less than a second, darted toward the source at full speed.
This had to be the real one. She could hear his breathing, and it seemed authentic—unlike the previous breathing, which had been too normal for the condition the Poe boy was in.
Her fist met resistance that once again quickly dissipated into smoke. She had been fooled yet again!
'Damn you, three-aura user!' Dolores cursed in her mind, furious. If Luke had been an ordinary psychic with just one aura, he would’ve been dead long ago. Even if he had two auras—telekinesis and clairvoyance—Dolores would have managed to kill him by now.
The real Luke was the one who had shouted. He had used himself as bait. It was clearly suspicious to yell and draw attention to himself. It was a risky move, but it had worked.
'Faster!' Luke thought, now sprinting toward Dolores. He extended his hand, aiming to grab the back of her neck.
He planned to use his pain induction technique with all the strength he had left. That would give Wednesday the chance to land the killing blow.
However, Dolores sensed the presence approaching from behind her. She managed to turn around and face Luke, who wasn’t fast enough. In his current state, his speed was no match for Dolores’.
He was standing only by sheer force of will.
'I guess this is it…' Luke thought, watching the powerful fist heading straight for his head.
He didn’t even have the strength to create a telekinetic shield, and if he managed to, it would be too weak. The punch would leave him half-dead and unconscious at best. He could no longer use Shambles, a technique that drained too much energy since it required combining two auras.
Nor could he create another illusion—it was far too late.
Just as he had resigned himself to his fate, a shadow emerged in front of him. It was Wednesday. She was even paler than usual and in terrible condition, but her gaze was resolute.
With all the strength she could muster, she created a weak dark shield.
“Move!” Luke shouted, seeing how Wednesday stepped in front of him to act as his shield.
Dolores’ fist smashed through the dark shield instantly and continued on its path toward Wednesday’s face.
As Dolores’ fist was about to strike Wednesday, Luke saw her suddenly being flung backward at incredible speed, like a projectile.
It all happened in less than a second—he only caught a blur appearing in front of Wednesday. Now, there was a man standing between them, his back turned to Luke and Wednesday.
Luke focused his gaze and saw an unusual figure. A tall, hunched back wrapped in a heavy fur coat that covered him almost entirely. His head was pale and bald. Small blue lightning bolts slithered across his body like serpents of energy, jumping from his shoulders, arms, and back.
Luke and Wednesday’s hair stood on end, electrified by the static tension emanating from the bald man.
"Uncle Fester..." Wednesday said in a tone that was both surprised and relieved. Somehow, they had been saved from the clutches of death.
The bald man glanced sideways at Wednesday and Luke. His eyes were dark, sunken, and surrounded by heavy bags.
Fester looked at Luke for a second before turning his gaze to his beloved niece. He examined Wednesday’s condition, and his brow furrowed slightly.
"It seems you’ve been having fun, niece," Fester said with a faint smile that didn’t reach his eyes.
Luke was surprised to see the famous Uncle Fester—not just because of the circumstances of his arrival but also because of the aura he emanated. This wasn’t what he had expected. Fester seemed extremely angry.
"You didn’t come to my birthday," Wednesday said, catching both Fester and Luke off guard.
Why on earth was she pointing out Fester’s shortcomings at such a critical moment? She truly held onto grudges.
"I know, I have my reasons… We’ll talk about it later," Fester replied, beads of sweat forming on his forehead as he turned his attention back to the situation.
Dolores had already gotten back on her feet, glaring at Fester with a deep scowl. One of her eyes had fully regenerated. Feeling the immense power behind the kick she had received to her face, she had used a significant amount of energy to accelerate the regeneration of at least one eye.
She needed at least one functional eye to see who this intruder was—especially because fighting such a person without vision was dangerous.
"Fester Addams," Dolores muttered, her scowl deepening. Things had become much more complicated. Although she had recovered the demonic book, which was of great importance, she couldn’t let this opportunity slip by to kill Luke, who was in a critical state.
