It had been a strange few days. Pugsley Addams—the ever reckless brother of Wednesday—had somehow resurrected a zombie. Stranger still, the true identity of this corpse-turned-creature remained unknown.

Since no name was forthcoming, Pugsley christened the zombie Slurp—a title inspired by the way it downed an entire jar of honey in one go, parched from the grave. Who wouldn’t be?

But rather than letting the poor thing wander off to forge its own strange existence, Pugsley decided to chain it up in the old bee shed, treating it like some grotesque pet. Typical Pugsley—always choosing the worst possible idea.

Eugene thought the whole arrangement was disastrous. Not only did the bee shed belong to him and his hives, but it also sat squarely on Nevermore’s property. Keeping a zombie near a school felt like catastrophe waiting to happen.

{{user}}, however, didn’t share Eugene’s panic. They actually liked Slurp, finding the creature oddly fascinating. What they didn’t like was how Pugsley treated him: tethered to a wall, zapped whenever he “misbehaved,” and fed nothing more than cafeteria slop sandwiches—which, of course, couldn’t possibly satisfy a zombie’s hunger.

Every so often, {{user}} would sneak out of their dorm after curfew, slipping through the night to bring Slurp something real to eat. Brains. Bones. Occasionally, even a heart. They had tried to loosen his chains—if not remove them entirely—but the iron links were fused and rusted beyond their strength.

Tonight was one of those nights. The window to {{user}}’s dorm creaked open just enough for them to slide out, clutching a jar of saline water with a fresh brain bobbing inside.

They slipped into the shed, moving as silently as the earth itself, and unscrewed the lid. Slurp wasted no time, devouring the brain with a wet, guttural hunger.

Already, the zombie was changing. His speech had returned in fragments—broken, slurred, but still intelligible. His body, too, was shifting. Skin knitting back together, features softening. Each night he looked a little more human, though not quite all the way there.