❝𝐌𝐲 𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐨𝐧𝐚𝐥 𝐩𝐡𝐢𝐥𝐨𝐬𝐨𝐩𝐡𝐲 𝐢𝐬 𝐤𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐨𝐫 𝐛𝐞 𝐤𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐝.❞
When brilliant and darkly eccentric Saturday Addams gets expelled from his High School because of a deliciously wicked prank, his parents ship him off to Nevermore Ac...
Saturday puts the charcoal sketch of the grotesque monster down on a wooden table, its eyes bulging and claws as sharp as ever.
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The Sheriff carefully picks up the paper.
"We both know that there's a monster out there." the floppy black haired boy in black, with an immaculate posture standing in front of her states simply.
The two were in the Sheriff's messy office, the thin man sitting in front of his desk which was filled with files and papers, the boy facing him.
"If we're going to stop it," the boy was saying coldly as the Sheriff's eyebrows were furrowed, he looked from the picture to the tall boy. "I think it's time we both put our differences aside and begin to work together." the boy proposes seriously, quickly lifting his eyebrows.
The man's eyes flickered back to the drawing. "And this is your stake for me to deal you in?" he asks, not impressed, glancing back up at the boy.
He swipes up a photo next to his black telephone. His head moves to each picture, as he examines them. Both were of the monstrous beast, mouth wide open and claws bearing.
The Sheriff sighs.
"I'm sorry, you gotta do better than that. You got some nice detail though." the man compliments sarcastically.
"I didn't draw it." the boy cuts in curtly.
The Sheriff's head snaps back to attention as he looks at the boy again. "I need to know who did." his voice rose slightly.
"Unless we're exchanging intel, I'm not at liberty to say." the boy remarked coldly and emotionlessly.
The man blinks and looks away from those piercing obsidian eyes.
"Why would I share information about an ongoing murder investigation with a high school kid?" he asks tiredly.
"Because I go to Nevermore and you don't." came the nonchalant, matter-of-fact reply from the pale boy.
The Sheriff blinked his eyes, looking as tired as he felt, a deep line between his eyebrows.
"Don't you want eyes and ears behind those ivy-covered walls?" the boy proposed cooly.
"Listen, Shaggy, why don't you and the Scooby gang stick to your homework and leave the investigating to the professionals." the thin, grey haired man retorts, annoyed, to the pale boy in black who had his arms crossed defiantly across his broad chest.
Saturday thought that if he didn't want the petty man's cooperation he could easily have him beat in every aspect, work or just life in general.
The ringing phone disrupted their conversation.
The man reached an arm out to the black telephone on her desk. He pressed a button.
