Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Wednesday took in her surroundings. This was her parents’ old school. It certainly had a dark spirit looming over the grounds—there was a story left untold in these buildings. That, paired with its teaching reputation for witchcraft and the occult, intrigued Wednesday to enroll this year.

A few strings had been pulled to admit her, but no more than the usual for an Addam’s family member. It was true that they had no special abilities. Still, having a famous common ancestor accused of witchcraft on these very grounds led to some leeway for their lineage.

She had been silent for most of the tour and their guide finally noticed.

“Wednesday, don’t you have any questions?” She smiled.

“If I had any, I would’ve asked them.” Wednesday answered in her usual monotone voice.

The guide’s grin faltered. “Okay. Um. And you can see over here…” She resumed her speech, hoping to look past their interaction.

Wednesday was growing bored. So she left. The sinister fog and candlelit chambers could only entertain her for so long. Though, walking through this castle left her with a delightful sense of unease. She traced the ridges of the stone bricks and felt something darker coursing through these walls. As if it had been detected, everything she had been feeling instantly vanished.

The corridor grew lighter and the weight on her chest disappeared. Wednesday’s disappointment was only visible by the twitch in her eyes. She ran her fingers along the stones again, but the feeling was long gone.

This school was hiding something. And she couldn’t wait to find out what it was.

Wednesday had already taken to writing her novel. She finished setting up her half of the room well before anyone else had made it to the dormitory. Another pro of skipping the tour: she didn’t need to face the crowd around the bulletin listing their dorm numbers.

Eventually, her silence was disturbed. Laughter intermittently broke her concentration as people passed by. Wednesday vowed to strangle her roommate in her sleep if she was one of those giggly types.

As if the universe was challenging her, she was sent exactly that. She wasn’t sure to be thankful for a target to keep her skills sharp or to be annoyed over the inevitable fallout.

“Hi roomie!” The girl was practically bouncing off the walls with her enthusiasm. She gasped. “You wouldn’t know this, but I actually wanted the left side! We’re already communicating without speaking!”

Wednesday’s eyes started burning the second she perceived a single strand of her roommate's blonde hair. She glared at her and hoped that would be enough of a deterrent.

It was not.

“Oh. Em. Gee.” If she had a tail, she would’ve been wagging it. “Are you reading my mind right now? Is that how you knew? Is that your power?”

Tactic 2: deflect and continue writing as if she’s not there. “I don’t have any powers.” Her attention was fully on her typewriter now.

“Oh! A vampire, then!” Her nose crinkled. “You don’t really smell like a vampire, though.”

“I’m not.”

For the first time since she came into the room, she was still. “But… you have to be something.”

Wednesday slid the paper over with a click. “I’m an Addams.”

“Oh… okay?” She nervously played with the sleeves of her sweater. “Um, I’m Enid Sinclair.”

“I’d say it’s a pleasure, but I’d be lying.”

Enid huffed and finally turned away from Wednesday’s side of the room. A series of clicks and shuffling indicated that Enid was unpacking. At least she was quiet about it. Wednesday had almost reduced the sounds behind her to background noise when an unholy screech tore through the room.

Sadly, it wasn’t from her new roommate. It came from said roommate’s stereo.

Wednesday’s fingers paused above her keys. “Turn that off.”

“Hm?” Enid asked sweetly. “Oh, this?” She cranked the volume up.

“Yes. That.”

“Hmm… no.”

“No?”

“No.”

Wednesday grips the knife she stored under her desk. A persistent tapping on her wrist stalled her murder attempt. She looked down to find Thing wagging a finger at her in a “no no” gesture. Wednesday felt a tinge of disappointment.

Thing then scurried off to initiate his more civil plan: turn it off without Enid seeing. Wednesday continued writing, satisfied with this outcome. A second later, the stereo cut out.

“Wha…” Enid pinned up the other end of the banner she was holding before stepping down to investigate. “Did you turn my music off?”

“How could I, I’ve been here this entire time.”

She huffed and turned it on again before going back to her decorations.

Again, the music stopped.

Wednesday felt a spark of amusement as Enid let out a cry of frustration.

“You!” The girl stomped over to her side of the room.

“Me?”

“Stop. Touching. My. Shit.” She growled.

Wednesday’s eyes widened just a little as the other drew close. “I haven’t even left my desk.”

Enid was seething. “Then why the hell does my stereo keep turning off?”

‘Hm. Her eyes are shining with murderous rage. How… intriguing.’

“Perhaps it is a fault in your own system. As you can see, I’ve done nothing but write this entire time.”

She threw her hands up in frustration. “It sure as hell wasn’t the wind! Unless—are you a witch? Telekinetic? Turning it off from a distance?”

She stared blankly. “I’m an Addams.”

“UGH.” Enid stormed over to her stereo, picked it up, and left the room.

Wednesday heard her footsteps recede down the corridor. “Hm. A shame. I thought she would’ve put up more of a fight.”

Thing shrugged from where he stood.

Wednesday had trained herself to wake at even the slightest disturbance. Even if she hadn’t, she was still conscious when Enid slid back into the dorm. The girl paused at the door before sighing and walking to her own bed. There was some shuffling around that sounded like the stereo being stored away. Enid flopped onto her bed and grumbled, “What a first day.”

Wednesday kept a keen ear on her until she could hear faint snores.

‘Yes, what a first day indeed.’

Deep below the castle grounds, a system of rusty gears ground past each other as a long-forgotten mechanism started up again. A series of chain reactions knocked each other into action, some slow, others fast, and a few dysfunctional after years of neglect. But one stood out.

The first to finish was a clock. The time, unknown. But the seconds fell gracefully into place. It echoed through the very bones of the castle sitting atop it.

It called out.

Now who will answer?

Chapter Text

Wednesday woke up to her roommate’s phone blasting an obnoxious pop song at 6 AM. She reevaluated every choice that brought her to this very moment in time while Enid fumbled to turn off her alarm. She’s bumped against it twice already. She was purposefully prolonging Wednesday’s discomfort.

“Turn off your alarm or the next time you stall, I’ll cut off a finger. You only have ten, so I suggest you learn where it is quickly.”

Enid squeaked and immediately stopped the song. After a second, she huffed and flopped back into her pillow.

Wednesday paid her no mind as she got to her morning routine. She appraised her uniform that was specifically tailored to exclude any color. It was suitable enough, so she wore it without complaint. Thing hopped onto her desk as she started fixing her braids. She raised an eyebrow at him. The hand pushed forward a shot glass filled with a clear liquid.

“How considerate.” She downed it in one go. “Arsenic. Delicious.”

“Hm? You said somethin’?” Enid slurred from her side of the room.

Wednesday slung her pre-packed school bag over her shoulder and slipped on her shoes. “Breakfast starts in ten minutes,” She said as she walked out of the room. There was a frantic clamoring the second the door shut.

Instead of walking to the cafeteria, Wednesday went to the dormitory head’s office. She knocked on the door and was warmly welcomed inside.

“So, how’s it going, Wednesday?” Mrs. Thornhill asked.

“I wish to switch roommates.”

The teacher’s smile tightened. “Well, our policies don’t allow for us to reassign students based on annoyances for at least the first semester. I’m sorry, but you’re just going to have to stick it out.”

Wednesday studied her. “Who said it was based on annoyances?”

She sighed. “Your roommate asked to switch out last night. She thought you bewitched her stereo.”

“I have no magical affinity.”

“Yeah, well, just saying your last name doesn’t help her suspicions.” Mrs. Thornhill plastered on a big smile. “Anyways! No can do, missy! Now scurry off and eat some breakfast before the big welcoming speech!”

Wednesday cut her losses short and made her way to the dining hall. The flow of conversation stalled and shifted the second her presence was made known. People averted their eyes but whispered behind her back.

A cowardly reaction.

But there was one who did neither. Enid bore straight into her soul with fire in her eyes. Wednesday tilted her head. Curious.

Still, she was here to get breakfast. The food was, frankly, a disappointment. Grandmama made better porridge than this. But still, some of the species-specialized tables had roadkill just on the verge of spoiling. Desperate times call for desperate measures. Maybe later she could hide some meat away to rot. One week would give it enough flavoring.

Ignoring any and all looks being sent her way, she sat down and started eating. If her seat placed her directly in line with Enid, that was unintentional. But the rest wasn’t.

It started with Enid stabbing her chicken just a touch too aggressively. Wednesday’s focus flickered between her roommate and the butchered chicken. She poked through her roadkill’s heart, letting the blood leak onto the plate. A shame, really. Wednesday was planning on saving the best for last.

Enid’s face drained of color as she realized what Wednesday had cut into. A new, sickly green shade overtook her pink undertones. The girl hastily pushed herself from the table and ran off.

Wednesday simply dipped her next slice of meat in the puddle and enjoyed her breakfast. If a few more students fled with a similar green hue, she paid no mind.

“Welcome students!” Headmistress Weems said with a warm smile. “I’m glad everyone enjoyed a hearty breakfast! Our diverse options are meant to appease every species here—but tell us if there’s something else you’d like to have.” She brought up a sheet of paper. “It seems that some of you wish to change roommates. Our assignment system made sure no innately conflicting genealogies were matched together—though, you can challenge this if there is concrete evidence—and therefore, whatever roommate you got paired with will be with you for at least the first semester. Our school is about diversity and inclusivity and we can’t do that unless all our different species here interact. So, get to know each other! There’s a certain camaraderie behind being the same type of magic, but there’s something more when you connect past your fundamentals.” She cleared her throat and motioned to bins with files in alphabetical order. “Over there, you will find your name and your corresponding file of possible activities and schedule. If you have any questions regarding your classes or clubs, you are always free to ask me. Enjoy your first day at Nevermore!”

The moment she started moving, Wednesday had started to carve a path of fearful students. She retrieved her file easily—“Addams” was right at the top of the list—and disappeared from the announcement hall in the blink of an eye.

“Hm.” Thing perched on her shoulder as Wednesday made her way through the corridors. “Most of these are standard classes. I suppose I have more leeway on what I choose to attend, not being of magical descent. Witchcraft lessons might require internalized power.” She mulled it over. “If they haven’t made exceptions for every lesson, this school isn’t as prestigious as mother and father claim it to be. Let’s put them to the test.”

Thing gave her a thumbs up. He also pointed to a potion-brewing elective.

“Interesting. Mother never mentioned this class.” She scanned the description. “Yes, I think I’ll join that too.”

The severed hand settled down on her shoulder as they walked to her first class. She observed the halls in attempts to memorize the entire school as fast as she could. Eventually, she noticed a reoccurring theme of Edgar Allen Poe statues littering the school grounds. Wednesday reckoned that it would be a crime if his work was not taught in their literature class. Seeing as literature was the first period on her schedule, she’ll find out soon enough.

“Over these next few weeks, you will be learning about symbolism and how poets use specific words to trigger these symbols so as to provide another layer to their work.” Mr. Vandorien, the teacher, outlined their course schedule. “Soon, we will pick up Edgar Allen Poe’s poem, ‘The Raven.’ And remember: ‘one for sorrow, two for mirth, three for a wedding, four for a birth, five for silver, six for gold—’”

“‘Seven for a secret to never be told.’” Wednesday finished.

He blinked. “Very good. What was your name?”

“Wednesday Addams.”

He blinked again, taken aback. “Oh, yes, that makes sense. I’m sure this chapter will be right up your alley, Ms. Addams.”

She nodded.

“Now, class, I’ve provided all of you with a list of symbols. You must look through the textbook to find what correlates with them.”

Wednesday glanced at her schedule again. She’s certain her next class is Physical Education, but there were multiple training grounds listed. Her class had already changed clothes but, unsurprisingly, they left her behind in the locker room. Now she has to figure out where they were meant to meet up. Thing scurried down her arm and pointed to the one by the track field.

She trusted his decision. After tucking him away in her bag, she made her way over there.

“Alright! I’m coach Folio, and today I’ll be evaluating you land-walkers. If you don’t see your friends here, that’s because there’s too many of you to fit into one class. We’ll do basic stamina, strength, and endurance tests—do not get discouraged if you see someone doing better than you! Everyone has their own set of abilities and some people are more naturally enhanced than others.” The teacher clapped and motioned to the white starting line. “Now line up, we’re starting off with one lap around the track.”

Wednesday easily fell into place despite the rough housing being initiated by the werewolves around her. Coach blew a whistle and the werewolves scampered off first, running on all fours. The rest of the class found their paces behind them, with Wednesday coming out near the lead.

And of course, Enid had to be neck and neck with her.

The werewolf was clearly surprised, even though she hadn’t gone berserk like her brethren. Enid stayed on her two legs and even fell slightly behind Wednesday’s pace. She quickly made up for it, even if at the expense of overexerting herself.

Wednesday just noted where everyone fell into place. It was good to know the people one would be spending the next few months with.

The lap was over just as soon as it had started and Coach wasted no time directing them to their next exercise.

Each student was equipped with a “spotter” that Coach conjured up. There were five stations of weights that they were instructed to deadlift—the spotters guesstimating their strength through a magical check. If there needed to be readjustments, the helpers would work the students through it before reporting back to the coach.

Wednesday accurately predicted her weights to amount to 200 pounds. Enid, in the corner of her eye, gaped at her. It’s a wonder what carrying around heavy artillery every day can do to one’s strength.

Coach Folio whistled at her score before directing her to the rock-climbing wall. As soon as she got in range, her conjured spotter shapeshifted into a harness and instructed her to climb the wall as fast as she could.

Who knew three minutes was a record.

“Congratulations, Wednesday! You surpassed the previous three minutes, twelve seconds that was established over forty years ago!” Her harness chirped.

She simply walked off the edge, trusting her harness to slow her descent.

The moment she reached the bottom, Enid was huffing and glaring at her with a violent shade of red coloring her entire face. “What. The hell. Are you?”

“As I’ve said before,” Wednesday drawled, “I’m an Addams.”

The rest of her classes were, frankly, boring. Working on a 2-day system left most of her interesting courses for tomorrow. Still, Wednesday felt satisfied in how the school was run.

Now if only she could say the same about her roommate.

Wednesday came back to her dorm to find the entire glass pane had been covered in colorful plastic. She quickly went to work, tearing down her half of the window. Out of everything that could have gone wrong in this school, this was the most annoying one.

Once she was satisfied with her work—not necessarily the original action—she brought her cello to the balcony just past the window. Thing helped pick out a song as she set up.

“Hm. ‘Paint it Black.’ Adequate.” Wednesday lifted her bow and started to make out the notes.

After a minute of reacquainting herself with the piece, her hands worked with muscle memory. She quickly lost herself in the song. Her neck craned forward to see the notes better even though she didn’t need to pick out each individual one. Thing helpfully flipped the pages when needed. Their teamwork successfully rid her of her thoughts, even for just a moment.

Someone let out a blood-curdling scream.

Wednesday paused mid-note. “Usually I enjoy that sound, but your timing is inconsiderate.”

“There’s a fucking severed hand on your music stand!” Enid shrieked.

She glared at her. “This is Thing. He is family and not just a ‘severed hand.’”

“Family—” She took a deep breath. “Fine. Whatever. Why the hell did you take my window decoration down?”

Wednesday tuned her cello’s problematic string as they talked. “Your window decoration is still up. I only rearranged my side of the room in a fashion I find agreeable.”

Enid ground her teeth. Finally making up her mind, she bared her fangs and extended her claws in a clear threat. “Don’t you fucking dare touch any more of my shit.”

She leveled her gaze onto her roommate. “Or?”

“Or?”

“Yes, ‘or.’”

“Or— or I’ll fucking rip your throat out!” Her eyes flashed golden and murderous.

Wednesday was enthralled. She stood up and leaned in. “I’d like to see you try.”

Enid stumbled back a few steps and the spell was broken. Wednesday picked up her cello and took it back inside, leaving the werewolf alone on the balcony.

As if sensing a shift in its surroundings, the castle instantly darkened. Fires burned less intensely and shadows creeped further down the tunnels than were previously admitted. Cold air swept past the corridors and through the cracks in the floors as if the school was taking a deep breath.

But there was no exhale.

Something had been fed, something had been broken.

Something had awoken.

Chapter Text

This morning, Enid’s alarm didn’t last longer than what was necessary. Wednesday noted that threats do work on her roommate. She went through her normal routine and Thing offered her cyanide this morning instead.

“You know me well.” Wednesday held out a hand for him to hop onto. The two of them left the room before Enid had even gotten off her phone.

Wednesday surveyed the nearby forest as she caught glimpses of it through the windows. “Do you think they would allow for morning hunts?”

Thing did his best approximation of a shrug.

“I’ll ask the headmistress later.” Wednesday concluded just before she reached the dining hall. After scanning the tables, she frowned as she couldn’t find the raw meat section. Thing tapped on her shoulder to get her attention before directing her to a deliciously foul-smelling porridge. Figuring it was better than nothing, she took a bowl of that and sat down to eat.

Thing slipped in some home-made “seasoning” he cooked up last night and Wednesday hummed in approval. No one sat at her table this morning.

In fact, no one sat in her line of sight. She found this curious as she had expected Enid to take this opportunity to engage in another standoff. Slightly disappointed, she finishes her breakfast and heads to her first class.

“Alright, everyone here must understand that there is an essence of magic in every bewitched object.” Mrs. Kasuma started drawing her points on the chalkboard. “Magic itself is collected and stored in your body just as your energy is. Eating food replenishes your strength just as much as sleep does. Magic falls under the same category—sleep will help reset your constant outflow of magic and you can sap magical energy from certain objects.”

The teacher erased her previous diagrams and started anew. “Pulling from your own well of magical ability is how you cast spells.” The person’s chest had a filled in circle with an arrow pointing towards a solid box. “And no, magic does not disappear. Ongoing spells have a stronger energy output, but even finished spells leave behind a trace that there had been an enchantment.” She dusted off the chalk until it looked faded. “It slowly diminishes over time, but there is always some magical residue.” She finishes by circling the faded box.

Wednesday raised her hand.

“Yes!”

“Has the school itself been enchanted at some point?”

Mrs. Kasuma lit up. “It has! From the annual protection spells to centuries old structural enchantments, there’s always magic coursing through these buildings.”

Wednesday frowned. “Aren’t those supposed to exude a genial aura?”

“Yes they do, why do you ask?”

“During our tours, there was a dark presence in the castle grounds. I figured you knew what it was, but I was mistaken.”

Whispering broke out among the students.

The teacher blinked at her. “Um, Ms. Addams, I’m not doubting your magical abilities, but there hasn’t been an evil presence on these grounds since the Salem Witch Trials.”

Her expression fell back into her neutral scowl, now disinterested in the teacher. “I’m certain you believe that is true.”

She huffed a sigh. “Okay. Don’t believe me?” Reaching into her desk’s drawer, she pulled out an old leather glove. “Wear this and touch wherever you think this ‘evil presence’ is at. If there’s something magical there, it’ll change colors.”

Wednesday took the glove. As soon as she slipped it on, she placed her hand on the wall beside her.

Black veins shot straight past the artifact and started enveloping her arm, spreading like an overflowing ink blot.

Mrs. Kasuma yelped and tugged her arm away. The enchantment still stained her skin. “Shit! Fuck! How—” She inspected Wednesday and noted the darkness was receding even if at an excruciatingly slow pace. “Okay. Okay. Okay. Okay. So. You might be right. I’ve never seen such a strong and sinister reaction before, especially not from this castle.”

“Hm.”

The teacher rested a hand on her forehead as she thought about what to do next. “Well, good news. The marking isn’t permanent. Bad news, it’s gonna be there for a while. I’ll look into this.” She looked at the clock. “Students, I’m letting you out early so I can thoroughly scan the room. I’ll see you in two days.”

Whispering followed Wednesday more than usual as her incident circulated the school gossip ring. It didn’t help that her whole right side was stained pitch black from her fingertips to her neck. She looked over her hand. Thing hopped onto her shoulder, tapping to get her attention before pointing at her arm with his symbol for a question.

Wednesday hummed. “I, too, find this development intriguing.” She rubbed her fingers together in an attempt to smudge it off. “Curious. At least it wasn’t pink.”

“What the fuck.” A familiar voice spoke from behind her.

“Hello to you too, Sinclair.” She scowled without looking over.

Her roommate’s nose scrunched as she drew closer. “You smell like death. More than usual.”

She spared a glance in her direction. ‘She knows my scent already? Is that an innate werewolf ability or does she despise me that much?’ Still, Wednesday took pride in her roommate’s assessment.

Thing, on the other hand, flipped her off.

“Hey!” Her brows furrowed. “I know you have some spooky telekinetic powers but do you really need to move that dead person’s hand around?”

Wednesday squinted her eyes in displeasure as any animosity towards her evaporated on the spot. “Thing is moving of his own free will. He’s been a loyal companion of mine since my birth.”

She exhaled in annoyance. “Great, you’re a necromancer too.” Enid finally noticed the magical residue on her skin. “Oh, of course, that’s why everyone’s freaking out. You did your spooky shit in class.”

Before Wednesday could say anything, the math classroom’s door opened and the teacher ushered everyone in. Enid’s opinion of her doesn’t matter anyways. Just one semester and they can change roommates.

Wednesday can’t wait.

“Mrs. Addams, I heard about your incident in Magic Theory.” Her potions professor noted before class started. “I might have a remedy for you.”

She tilted her head. “What for?”

“Your… arm?”

“My arm.” She looked it over. “It’s perfectly functional. I won’t be needing anything you wish to give me.”

They blinked. “You want to keep it?”

She gave them a blank look. “It has an aura of death. It’s not hurting me. It’s going away. Why would I wish to speed up the process?”

“I… see.” They did not. “I’ll still give you the antidote, it’s up to you if you want to take it or not.”

“Acceptable.”

They nodded and handed the vial over before walking to the front of the classroom. “Alright class, take your seats. I’m Dr. Mevers and I’ll be teaching you the basics of potion brewing this year. I have more advanced and specialized classes in later years, but that should never limit your experimentation levels. All of you are welcome to come in after class and work through potions—with me as a supervisor, of course.”

They pulled out a tray with five ingredients. “You’ll need to memorize what each of these are and what they’re used for by our next class. There’s going to be a short quiz on this before we start mixing them together in your first potions.”

The class groaned.

“Hey, how about this: I’ll let you choose one advanced brew to attempt after we finish this round of ingredients.”

Students started clamoring excitedly. A few brave ones shouted out names of potions. The teacher quieted them.

“I’ll let you research and we’ll pile all of them up to vote on during our next class. I won’t allow anything dangerous, so don’t waste your time on those.”

Wednesday immediately lost interest.

“Alright! Now here’s what you need to know about these five ingredients.”

The last class of the day was herbology. With the teacher who wouldn’t switch roommates. Though, Wednesday didn’t know this until she walked into the almost-full classroom. She surveyed the room for any more unpleasant surprises. She found that all the seats in the back had been taken during the time it took for Wednesday to cross campus. Such is the curse of large school grounds.

Wednesday decided on the next best option, a seat second to the back. Sadly, there was already someone else in the other chair. It was still better than sitting any closer to Ms. Thornhill.

Until Enid took the seat behind her. Apparently, the saved seat in the back row was for her beloathed roommate. She considered moving but decided it would only show weakness. So they challenged each other to an unspoken game of chicken.

“Hey.” The person beside her cut into her train of thought. “I’m Xavier.”

“Wednesday Addams.”

He glanced at her magical stain. “How’d that even happen?”

“Mrs. Kasuma underestimated my skills. She won’t do so again.”

Xavier paused in shock. “You killed her?”

“Not yet.”

“Cursed her?” He grew even more horrified.

Wednesday fixed him an unimpressed glare. “Even if the security here is abysmal, I do believe you would notice me being escorted off the premises if I had endangered the staff.”

“Oh. Yeah.”

A scoff. “Like they’d ever catch you.”

“Flattery will get you nowhere, Sinclair,” She said, still facing the board.

He looked between them. “Do you two know each other?”

“Unfortunately.”

“This pain in my ass is stuck with me for a whole semester.” Enid said.

Wednesday felt a headache coming on. “She blabbers during the day and sleeptalks through the night.”

“At least I don’t have a fucking knife collection.” She snapped.

“Your colorful decorations cause enough pain as is.”

“What, do you have an allergy to color?”

“I do.”

“…What.”

Wednesday made eye contact with her. “I break out into hives and the flesh peels off my bones.”

Enid looked disgusted. “I knew there was something off about you. You’re a freak.”

“I’m an Addams.”

“Girls!”

The two snapped out of their tunnel visions to find Ms. Thornhill standing next to them.

“Honestly, three days in a row? You two need to find some common ground or else you’ll be in detention until you can make up.”

“But—”

“No! No buts! Honestly, you kids nowadays—y'know what? You two, up here.” She motioned to the front of class. The girls followed with varying levels of embarrassment. “You are going to sit beside each other in my direct line of sight and hold hands for the entire class.”

They shared mutual looks of horror.

Ms. Thornhill brought forward two chairs and they were forced to sit. After a second of neither engaging the first contact, the teacher grabbed their wrists and pushed their hands together. “Now! That’s not so bad, is it?”

She was met with two equally uncomfortable looks. Once satisfied, she started her presentation.

After getting past the initial shock, Wednesday flexed her hand that was trapped under the significantly warmer one. Enid locked onto her hand as if to prohibit her from moving any more. Wednesday stole a glance at her roommate and found her grinding her teeth.

Curious.

She wiggled her fingers more, hoping that would be enough to loosen her grip. But it did the opposite. Enid’s claws started poking into Wednesday’s hand.

She inhaled sharply.

Enid looked over, a little mortified over her own lack of control. Wednesday, however, paid no mind to this. She was more concerned that her heartbeat had increased ever so slightly.

Then Enid tried pulling away.

Wednesday gripped her hand hard. The two locked eyes and Wednesday thought she saw a faint blush. Enid looked at the clock before hiding her face in her elbow.

Eventually, her claws extended to full length. Neither of them had shifted positions since, so they ended up digging into Wednesday’s palm. It took a second to realize, but there was definitely blood trailing down her hand.

Wednesday felt her cheeks heat up. Enid sniffed the blood and looked up from her elbow. The two of them locked eyes and noticed each others’ pink faces.

“What now?” Ms. Thornhill cut in, exasperated.

“Sinclair cut me with her claws.”

“Hey!” She dropped their hands. “It’s not my fault they grow when I’m stressed!”

“Stop!” She rubbed her temples. “Stop. Enid, walk Wednesday to the nurse’s office. I’m giving you two a week to get everything under control. If I don’t see enough change, we’re going to have to take disciplinary actions. Got it?”

“Yes, Ms. Thornhill,” They said in unison.

Wednesday turned and headed for the nurse’s office with Enid scrambling to catch up. They were both silent for the entire trip with Wednesday only speaking to appease the nurse. Though, her attention was more focused on Wednesday’s magical stain than her bleeding palm.

All in all, it went by fast.

Enid finally spoke when they started walking back. “Look, I’m sorry—”

“What for? You did nothing wrong.”

“I…” Enid blinked. “I hurt you? You bled?”

Her eyebrows furrowed. “Your point?”

“Uh.”

“You’re a young werewolf, these things happen.”

She studied her for a trap in her sentiment, but found none. “Okay.”

The two of them walked in silence once again, but this time, there was nothing uncomfortable about it.

After all was said and done, a single drop of blood had slipped through the cracks of the floors. Not a single werewolf or vampire could have sniffed it out. But what did was neither.

It stretched out as far as it could and caught the droplet before it fell any further. Blood magic is dangerous, and this incident could have caused the upheaval of the century. Instead, this power was transferred to the habitants of the school.

This was an unusual investment, but if all the cards are to be played correctly, it would pay off.

Chapter Text

Wednesday had woken up before Enid’s alarm and took to writing letters to her family. She hopes Pugsly is the one to get the mail. Before she left for school, she had set up a trap for him.

‘…It is not like you would expect. Long gone are the days of dark solitude in the middle of an eerie forest. Electronics are rampant in the halls filling every passing moment with odd noises. I still have not found the appeal of them.

‘Though, nothing can compare to my roommate. She is everything I hate about this school, personified. Her phone is not “on silent” and it rings constantly. She took offense to my cello sessions and started playing her obnoxious music through a speaker. We compromised by agreeing on a certain volume level. Another compromise was our room. We split it in half, down to our central window. As long as she keeps her toy stuffed animals (not even real ones, mother) on her side, I will not tear them to shreds. This still does not take away from the color defecation that makes up her decorations but I angle myself away from that as much as possible.

‘Now, that is not to say I have not found academically engaging material here. In fact, on my second day of classes, there was an—’

“Oh my fucking god if you can’t get your bird to shut up I’m going to hunt it for sport.”

Wednesday refilled her quill’s ink. “I don’t have a bird.”

Enid stomped over and forced Wednesday to look away from her letter.

A faint tapping came from the window. Enid pointed at it with a furious look.

She then noticed the fairly large black bird. “It’s just a raven.” Wednesday turned back to her letter. “Don’t bother it unless you want to fight it off every time you step foot outside.”

Enid stammered in rage before storming out onto the balcony and shooing it away.

Wednesday smirked as she heard the tell-tale sounds of a fight. The raven was winning. The werewolf then took a more feral approach and started growling at the bird. After a nasty collection of shrieks and caws, the raven flew off, leaving Enid scratched and winded.

She crawled back in and spat out a tuft of feathers. “Fucking birds.” She grabbed a change of clothes and left for the dorm’s showers.

Wednesday finished her letter just as Enid’s alarm started. The idea of hunting was fresh in her mind as she left the dorm. She has someone she needs to talk to.

Wednesday walked into the Headmistress’s office and stood in front of her desk.

“Oh, Wednesday! I was going to call for you during your free period but I’m glad you decided to meet with me.” Headmistress Weems smiled.

She nodded. “I’d like to request permission for morning hunts.”

“…What?”

“You allow hunts for werewolves to expel their pent-up energy around the full moon. I would benefit from similar activities as I had done so in the woods behind my own house.”

She considered her next words. “How, exactly, would this benefit you?”

“The raw meat section of the breakfast table doesn’t satisfy my needs. I must continue to keep my skills sharp and my parents would agree. This is not just archery, but tracking, trapping, and stalking. If it was simply shooting a target, I do know this campus has an archery range.”

“I… see. You do realize the meat section is for our werewolf students?”

“I assumed that was your plan.”

She folded her hands on her desk. “And do you know we removed the more… unprocessed dishes because we had a complaint?”

“I did not know.”

The headmistress hummed. “I think I know why.” She sighed and straightened up. “Nevertheless, are there really no other breakfast options you can tolerate?”

“No.” Wednesday was firm on this. “We have a strict food schedule back home and almost none of the meals here fall under it.”

“I see.” She absentmindedly tapped her pen against the desk. “I’ll tell you what. You’re allowed to go on hunts only if your roommate, Enid, accompanies you.”

She scowled. “Enid faints at the sight of blood.”

The headmistress waved her off. “She doesn’t need to hunt with you, she just needs to make sure you’re safe and vice versa.”

Wednesday clicked her jaw shut. “And there’s no way you’ll reconsider?”

“Sorry, no.”

“Fine.”

“Great!” She clapped her hands before getting serious again. “Now, about that hand of yours.”

“It’s receding.”

She blinked. “Oh, no, no! I heard about that mishap—there’s no long-lasting side effects, so how you choose to handle it is up to you. No, I was talking about the severed hand you carry with you.”

“Thing?”

“Is that its name?”

“Yes.”

She nodded. “Well, you have to send Thing back home.”

Wednesday frowned. “Why?”

“People have complained that it is… disturbing. And we don’t have any regulations for situations like these.”

“Yes you do.”

“We do?”

“In the case of familiars, you allow those of magical affinity to keep them during their studies here.”

Headmistress Weems smiled and shook her head. “Wednesday, I don’t think Thing classifies as a familiar.”

She tilted her head. “Why not? He’s sentient, independent, loyal to one person, made of magic, and a personal guide.”

“I… huh.” She thought it over. “I guess, with you in the magical track, I can allow this exception. But if Thing does anything against our student handbook, the punishment will fall onto you. Understood?”

Wednesday nodded. “Thank you.” She spun around and walked away.

Headmistress Weems just shook her head with an amused smile on her lips.

Enid stomped up to Wednesday the second she got to the dining hall. “If that bird is your new familiar and you sent it to torment me, I’m going to eat it alive and make you watch.”

Wednesday blinked. “What a sight that would be—but I don’t know what bird you’re talking about.”

She groaned and pulled at her hair. “The fucking— bird! The one from this morning!”

“The raven?” She raised an eyebrow.

“Yes! It’s stealing my fucking food!”

“We have an open buffet.”

“It’s the principle—” Enid took a deep breath. “It’s stealing it from my plate.”

Wednesday started loading her own plate. “Then get more food.”

She hid her face in her hands and screamed through a closed mouth. “Okay. You’re no help at all.”

“I was helping?”

She worked her jaw. “No. I guess not.”

“Hm.” Wednesday sat down at her seat and started her breakfast.

Not a second later, the raven fluttered down beside her. It cocked its head towards her plate but did nothing except shuffle its feet. Wednesday slid it a piece of her chicken. It snatched the offered food and swallowed it instantly. She approved of its presence.

“You fucking—” Enid was still standing infront of her. “I’m done. Tell your bird to leave me alone.” She stormed off.

Wednesday had memorized “The Raven” since her mother read it to her as a bedtime story. So, of course, Mr. Vandorien continuously praised her analysis.

“Ms. Addams, do you have any insight into why Edgar Allen Poe mentions Pallas?”

“Pallas is a goddess of wisdom. Having the crow land on her statue indicates that whatever he says has knowledge to back it up, even if the narrator himself doesn’t have proof of it. Though, the narrator curses himself to his own misery by asking questions that would provide an undesirable outcome when answered with ‘Nevermore,’ which is all that the raven can say. And perhaps the statue of Pallas is misleading the reader. At first, the narrator is fooled by the tapping at the door before realizing it was the bird who knocked. Maybe the raven was messing with his mind all along.”

The teacher nodded in approval. “Edgar Allen Poe frequently depicts mentally deranged characters, so it is definitely possible that this sense of uncertainty as to whether the raven is a wise spirit or a trickster is meant to sew doubt in the reader as well.”

A student spoke up, “But it’s just a bird? Why would the old guy believe it?”

“Divine intervention.” Wednesday answered. “Birds have always been depicted as messengers of the gods, and ravens are seen as the harbingers of evil. Corvids have been noted for their above-average intelligence. They are also the cause of the nursery rhyme, where a singular of their species is meant to signal sorrow. Combined with the cold winter night and the loneliness of the narrator, it is unequivocally about death. The man might be insane, but everything points to the conclusion he had come to.”

“Well said, Ms. Addams.” He smiled at her. “Edgar Allen Poe wrote this to be a projection of himself after his wife had passed…”

Wednesday and the rest of her PE class lined up in front of the fencing mats. The coach was explaining the rules but she had tuned him out. After years of surprise duels with her father, Wednesday had mastered both her reflexes and the rules of the game.

Coach Folio then separated the inexperienced to teach them proper stance and grip placement. Upperclassmen then took their pick of the “experienced” fencers to duel one on one.

Wednesday found herself in front of the student with the best starting stance—besides herself, of course. She slipped on her helmet and fell into position.

“I take it you don’t need instructions?” Her opponent asked.

“I do not.”

A nod and then they were off. Wednesday easily won the first round due to the factor of surprise. The second round lasted a few seconds longer, but Wednesday won again. In the third round, her opponent stopped dismissing her skills. They matched each other in a dance of parries, neither scoring nor caring about the point.

After a particular blow, Wednesday almost lost her grip on her rapier. She was impressed. Eventually, her opponent tried to settle the point but she quickly shut her down with a flurry of attacks.

The upperclassman took off her helmet and grinned. “I haven’t met a fencer as good as you since our last captain left.”

“And you’re captain now?”

“I am.” She introduced herself, “Bianca Barclay.”

“Wednesday Addams.”

Her gaze turned sharp. “I’ve heard about your roommate problem. I think we can help each other out.”

“Hm.”

“I’ll help you find someone willing to room you who also respects any rules you set up.” Bianca noted how that caught Wednesday’s attention. “In exchange, I want you to help me take Sinclair down a peg. She’s been getting too much… attention from being a direct link to you.”

Wednesday thought it over. “What happens if you can’t follow through on your end?”

“That won’t be a problem.”

“Indulge me.”

She paused in consideration. “If you hate all your choices, I’ll agree to room with you. There’s no better person to follow the rules than the one who set them.”

Wednesday studied her. “Alright. I won’t do anything I don’t want to, but you’re free to suggest your plans.”

Bianca bared her teeth more than smiled at her. “But of course. I’ll get in contact with you soon. For now, break’s over. En garde.”

Wednesday took the time during her free period to explore the castle. She had an intriguing experience the first time walking desolated halls and she wishes to recreate the circumstances.

Aimlessly wandering, she found herself atop the astronomy tower’s balcony. Werewolves were advised to join that elective and Wednesday wanted no part in another chance to share classes with her roommate. Granted, learning about the magical properties and its effects on dark creatures and rituals had its charm, but she could read about it on her own time.

Wednesday looked out onto the forest surrounding the school grounds. Perhaps if she was some other student, she would’ve taken a picture and admired the view. But she was an Addams. There were three clearings—likely picnic spots—closer to the lakeside and one particularly large tree. On the other hand, there was a thicket of vegetation on one half of the surrounding woods. Wednesday decided that was where she would hunt tomorrow morning.

Sinclair or not, she couldn’t stand another day without a good game of cat and mouse.

Just then, a raven fluttered onto the railing beside her.

She watched it curiously. “Have you been following me?”

It let out a deep, croaking caw.

“Hm.”

It groomed its feathers as they both took in their surroundings. She noticed that it kept cocking its head towards one area. Once the raven was sure that she was watching, it dove down. After performing some graceful tricks on the air currents, it settled into a circling pattern over a dark clearing.

Wednesday hummed in consideration. Ravens are, indeed, the smartest solitary creatures.

History class started off with an overview of this school’s foundation. Mr. Treves thought it would be an easy transition for the students as they learned how he taught. It might’ve been, too, if everyone hadn’t dozed off.

Wednesday stayed at full attention the entire time—she was here to learn and she could only do that by listening in.

“The grounds on which Nevermore was built upon had a Puritan settlement. During the 1960s, the Salem Witch Trials ran rampant. An ancestor of an esteemed family line here at Nevermore had seeked revenge for the public murder of her mother and other suspected ‘witches.’”

Wednesday knew about this story. Goody Addams has always been an idol for her. It’s a shame she never saw her at family seances. Alas, they never found her body or her spirit.

“Goody Addams had taken down the man who sentenced her mother to death, but she had died alongside him. There is an honorary graveyard on the grounds for the accused witches that were never properly buried. The town of normies had a larger crypt built for the Puritan leader. Joseph Crackstone’s body was also never to be found, but his lineage had lived on under the last name Gates until their last daughter died a few decades ago.”

If Goody never made it to the afterlife, Wednesday hoped she trapped Crackstone alongside her in whatever limbo she created.

Wednesday had been doing her homework when the door slammed open. Enid stomped in, appearance disheveled, scratches along her arms, and werewolf features highlighting her fury.

Wednesday could only stare at her roommate through the desk’s mirror as she stalked towards her with murderous intent—split room be damned.

She reached her desk and yanked on the chair’s backrest. Wednesday’s breath was stolen as the feeling of falling backwards was cut short. The two of them locked gazes as they regained their bearings. Enid was surprised at her own confidence but buried the shock under her overpowering anger.

The werewolf dug her claws into Wednesday’s shoulder and if she wasn’t enthralled before, she definitely was now. “Why did your raven attack me all fucking day?” She growled.

Maggots wormed around in her stomach. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Enid leaned in closer. “Yes you do.” She brought a claw to the artery on her throat. “And you’ll call it off.” The pressure increased.

“Why do you think I know what to do?” Wednesday’s world centered entirely on the person before her.

The claw dragged up her neck for her to slide a second one beside it. “Because if you don’t, you’ll find out.”

Wednesday felt the smallest prick break her skin. Neither had looked away. Enid’s ragged breaths filled the silence between them.

A tapping came from the window. Enid’s eyes flashed as she threw the nearest object at the glass. Wednesday fell back down with a miniscule jolt. She turned around to see her inkwell broken with its contents splattered like a crime scene.

“Fix. It.” Enid rumbled.

Glaring at her, Wednesday walked out onto their balcony. The raven chirped in delight, ruffling its feathers. The girl cocked her head. It took this as some sort of cue and took off. Instead of dismissing the bird, Wednesday watched its flight pattern. It was the same as the one she saw earlier today.

She jumped onto a nearby roof and started following the raven. Enid yelled after her as she disappeared into the night.

After they had passed the school walls, Wednesday realized the bird was leading her to the area it had pointed out from the astronomy tower. The closer they drew, the more she sensed a shift in the air. Branches stopped swaying as the air grew stale. A slight fog blurred the edges of her vision.

It was delightfully unsettling.

She then made out the shapes of uniform protruding stones. Of course a raven of sorrow led her to a graveyard. How poetic.

The bird landed on one of the tombstones. Wednesday settled in front of it. The etchings indicated this was the honorary resting place of Goody Addams. She traced the cracks in the stone to show respect for her life story.

The raven cawed to get her attention. Once it did, it hopped over to the statue directly behind Goody’s grave. Wednesday followed and noticed the plaque.

‘For all of those whose graves went unmarked.’

Wednesday hummed in acknowledgment. “Our mothers and sisters paved the way for us and paid with their lives.”

The bird croaked and flew higher up. Her gaze traveled up the statue to find a stone raven overlooking the entire clearing. It had something shiny in its mouth. Wednesday climbed up to it and carefully slid out the capsule.

Dropping down, Wednesday looked around the forest for anyone that could’ve been setting her up. The only other living creature was the bird that led her here. Satisfied, she popped open the cap. A little piece of parchment slid out onto her hand.

The raven glided down and landed on Wednesday’s shoulder as she unfurled the note.

This school year just got interesting.

Chapter Text

Wednesday laid awake in her bed. Waking up early has become a trend these past few days. Still, the dreadfully eerie mornings were nothing compared to the screams of tortured family ghouls. Or Pugsly’s explosions. Or father’s fencing sessions.

Hm. She needs more stimulation than everyday school life. Remembering her gift from the raven, Wednesday pulled out the piece of parchment she had found last night.

‘One cannot exist without the other

killed by the mourning of a mother

fires lit in hopes to smother

but two fates so intertwined

to stone graves, both were confined

until comes one, with answers divined.’

She blinked and read it over again. Wednesday was still as confused as she had been when she first read it. The raven that led her there hadn’t helped at all. It was just a bird, after all.

Frustrated, she shoved the paper back where she stored it before settling down at her desk. Wednesday slid a fresh sheet into her typewriter and started typing away at the keys. The rhythmic sounds of clicking and ringing lulled her into a Pavlovian sense of calm. Analyzing crime scenes—even if it’s through her character—allows for her consciousness to shut down as her brain focuses on the case infront of her.

She had almost finished her writing hour when she sensed her roommate had woken up. There was a grumble and some unidentifiable but definitely irritated noises. The room slowly fell back into its typewriter ambience without any more disturbances.

One second after the hour mark, Enid spoke up. “Do you really have to use that godforsaken machine at five in the morning?”

Wednesday organized the papers she completed. “Last night my schedule was interrupted by your insistence to get rid of a raven.”

“It’s not my fault you ran after it.” Enid gritted out. “I swear, your bird annoys me all day and you annoy me all night.”

“It has been theorized that constant repetition of a single sound can drive one insane.” She turned around and studied her roommate. “I wonder, would it expedite the process if there were multiple stimuli?”

The werewolf’s expression turned stony. A split second later, fury overtook her gaze. “I’m not going to be your lab rat.”

Grabbing a pillow and blanket, she stormed out of the room.

Wednesday watched her go. “Thing.” She had noticed him on her roommate's bed. “Where were you yesterday?”

He mimed a disgruntled, ‘You’re welcome.’

Wednesday sighed. “Yes, I did not lose focus during my writing session. Now, where were you?”

‘Getting things.’

She squinted almost imperceptibly. “What things?”

‘It’s a surprise.’ He gave her a thumbs up. ‘Any luck on the hunting approval?’

Wednesday pursed her lips in displeasure. “I’m only allowed to hunt if Sinclair joins me. Headmistress Weems also agreed to classify you as a familiar.”

Thing was offended.

“Yes, I know, you’re your own independent severed hand. People had made complaints and I had to bend the rules,” She explained.

He dramatically flopped over. ‘Fine. I’ll accept it for now. Did anything else happen yesterday?’

“A raven led me to a graveyard where I found a hidden message before my ancestor’s grave.”

‘Oh, so nothing important.’

Wednesday huffed. “It might be if I could understand what it means.” She brought it out for Thing to read.

‘Lmao why is it so dramatic.’

“Thing, what have I told you about improper grammar?”

‘That it’s cool and I should definitely use it more so you can learn it too?’

Wednesday grabbed him and headed for the balcony. Dangling him over the edge, she asked, “Care to repeat that?”

Thing frantically tapped out and Wednesday showed him mercy. She pulled him back but didn’t let go. “If you tell me exactly what you were doing yesterday, I’ll consider not pulling off your nails.”

Thing immediately started messaging through morse code. ‘Breakfast’ Stop ‘Poison expensive’ Stop ‘Feel at home’ Stop ‘Grandmama’s spices.’

Wednesday let him drop to the floor. “Don’t try to dodge my questions again.”

He gave a weak thumbs up from the ground.

“I’m going hunting today. Which meats would go best with your selection?”

‘Rabbits, birds, mice—anything small and stringy.’

Wednesday nodded. “Acceptable.”

The second she walked through the glass door, Enid entered from the hallway. They paused and made eye contact before going to their respective sides. Wednesday started gathering her hunting gear. A crossbow, some netting, a few grenades—everything she needed for a light morning hunt.

Her roommate had been eyeing Wednesday the entire time. Just as she was lacing up her boots, Enid spoke up. “What are you doing?”

“We’re going hunting.”

“Woah, woah, woah, when did ‘we’ agree on this?”

“Just now. Come on.” Wednesday stood up and slung her crossbow over her shoulder.

Enid pulled the blankets around her closer. “Nuh-uh.”

Wednesday walked right onto the duct tape line. “The full moon is in two days. You’ve been getting more restless. You left this room due to agitation, but you were kicked out of another’s room for the same reason.”

“How—”

“Did I know? You wouldn’t come back here willingly. The castle is cold on its own, so the corridors aren’t a good place to rest—which, by what you took, is what you wanted to do. So we are going out to hunt. Werewolves are permitted to do so for this exact reason.”

Enid gritted her teeth and didn’t move.

Wednesday blinked down at her. “Unless you can’t hunt.”

“I can hunt,” She snapped.

“Pack mentality would urge you to go out into the forest with your brethren.” She tilted her head. “But you don’t seem to accompany the others.”

Enid looked away. “I just—don’t want to!”

“Your habits are contradictory.” She readjusted her quiver. “Either way, you need to hunt in groups. Seeing as you’re avoiding the other eligible partners, I’m your only chance at getting out before the full moon. That is to say you’re truthful about choosing not to hunt.”

“I am!” She yelled a bit too loudly.

“Hm.” Wednesday looked her over before heading out.

Her gamble paid off. Enid rushed out of the dorm a minute later, flushed and disheveled. She almost ran into Wednesday who was waiting just outside.

“Fix your coat. It’ll set off my traps if it keeps flailing around.” She turned and walked down the hall.

Enid shook herself out of her shocked state and readjusted everything she hurriedly put on while trying to catch her roommate before it was too late.

Wednesday kept just enough of a distance between them that her roommate had to run to keep up but could be called upon if they were questioned for being up so early. Mostly, she was blocking everything out as she settled into her trapping mindset. Creating elaborate schemes that could be set off by the slightest touch and having them pay off was one of the most gratifying things she’d ever do.

Here’s to hoping a certain werewolf won’t mess them up.

Wednesday enjoyed her morning hunt after losing Enid in the thick of the woods. Of course, she always kept an eye on her roommate. She stumbled around like a newborn deer—she was a safety hazard to herself and Wednesday’s schemes.

In the end, she killed enough to last her for two weeks. She buried her extras to rot a bit faster. Enid yelled into the forest for Wednesday yet again and she finally appeared. Sadly, her roommate fainted at the dead rabbit in her hands.

Wednesday went back to the school to prepare her breakfast and, as she came across Ms. Thornhill, she notified the dorm head of Enid’s situation. The teacher ran off, leaving Wednesday to have her first well-seasoned meal of the school year in delightful solitude.

Thing made up for his transgressions by cleaning the plates after she finished. Wednesday took this time to read about the assigned ingredients for potions class. With her eidetic memory, this only took a few seconds, but it was still important to stay on top of her studies.

She allowed for Thing to hitch a ride on her shoulder as they walked to her first class of the day.

“Okay, so, I am going to be completely honest with you guys,” Mrs. Kasuma said. “I have no idea what happened last time with that magic detecting incident. No offense, Ms. Addams.” She shot a look in her direction. “But until we find a valid concern regarding that, we’re just gonna continue with our lessons as usual.”

The teacher pulled out a piece of chalk and stood at the board. “Ahem. Today we are going to learn how to summon familiars. As you start your magical journeys, having a loyal companion in tune with your powers can bring many benefits. It can help measure your magical output which are your strengths, your weaknesses, and your affinities. In olden times, a familiar would find the magic user instead of being summoned. This led to inconsistencies in the magical community that were later solved by a series of high-standing academics getting together and agreeing on a basis for all types of magic users.”

“Now, I won’t bore you with the specifics. You’ll read that in your homework. I’m going to teach you the steps to summoning your familiar and by the end of class, we’ll start putting it to practice. I expect everyone to find their familiar by the end of the month.”

She continued on, listing highly metaphorical feelings of connection with the world and, even deeper, with the spirit of magic itself. Wednesday watched on with skepticism. Perhaps it was to do with not having magic herself, but all of this sounded like bullshit.

Either way, Mrs. Kasuma turned to the class and waited for them to achieve this deeper connection.

Thing took this as a prime moment to finally wake up. Wednesday brought him up onto the desk so he could make sense of the chalkboard. People around them started staring.

Mrs. Kasuma grinned at the first “familiar” before her face fell once she realized what was on Wednesday’s desk. “Oh. How… lovely. Our first familiar! What… what’s its name?” She asked with a strained smile.

“His name is Thing.”

“Okay.” She nodded in resignation. “Okay. Yeah. Lovely. Everyone, keep trying! One down, plenty more to go!”

The rest of class passed without another summoning. That is, until the last few minutes of class when a familiar tapping came from the window.

The teacher gasped excitedly. “A bird! Someone connected with a bird!” She rushed to let it in.

A flurry of dark purple feathers dove through the opening and landed right on Wednesday’s desk. She regarded it with a fair amount of disinterest. They’ve been in contact too frequently for its appearance to shock her.

“Okay. Um. Congrats on having two familiars. You—” Mrs. Kasuma paused. “If it were anyone other than you, I might’ve been surprised. But it’s not. Wow. Okay. You’re a really strong magic user. I haven’t seen anyone with this much raw power in years.”

Wednesday shared a look with Thing. “Us Addamses have always done the unexpected.”

The teacher huffed a laugh. “Yeah, I guess that’s true. Anyways, class, read up on familiars and keep practicing your connection. Have a good day!”

Wednesday was walking to her next class when she heard an all-too familiar voice in an unfamiliar way. It was colorful in every way except for the dark reds that Wednesday was constantly subjected to. Without malice dripping off of every word, bright pink bubbles resurfaced. She had almost forgotten her roommate could sound this… obnoxious.

Enid’s eyes met Wednesday’s and her smile slipped. One of her groupies nudged her and she turned back to them. Not a second later, it’s like she forgot Wednesday was ever there.

Wednesday frowned as a surge of anger ran through her. Surely something as minuscule as this needn’t invoke such emotions. But then Enid laughed in a little tinker bell way and Wednesday retracted her earlier sentiment.

Just as she navigated past the courtyard, Bianca strode up to her.

“She’s nerve-grating, isn’t she?” The siren said more than asked.

“Just like her disposition, her laugh is revoltingly bright.”

“Well,” she grinned, “I think it’s about time we wipe that smile off her face. The raven trick you did yesterday was lovely, but is there anything else that would really piss her off.”

Wednesday thought it over. “Not necessarily in the way you mean, but dead animals are the bane of her existence.”

Nodding, she asked, “Can you get one and embarrass her with it?”

“Regrettably, no. I can only hunt if I am accompanied by Sinclair.”

Her nose wrinkled. “Ugh. Ok. I’ll get it to you. Make sure to humiliate her in public with it. It’ll be a stab at her werewolf heritage.”

Wednesday’s neutral scowl relaxed at the thought. “I do like stabbing.”

Even as math class started, Wednesday could still hear Enid’s giggles ringing through her ears. She tried distracting herself from it, but it kept resurfacing. One more repetition and her quill might snap.

“Ms. Sinclair, Mr. Hale, if you could pay attention, that would be lovely.”

Oh. It wasn’t in her head. Hm.

Potions class was extremely boring. Wednesday finished her quiz within five minutes while the rest of the class took half an hour. Honestly, if they just read more they’d have an easier time. The only interesting part of the period was when they took their potion vote.

Wednesday suggested a tongue-tying potion but Dr. Mevers threw that ballot out due to “untested and potentially dangerous side effects like fusing one’s tongue into one’s mouth.” A shame. Some of her peers could’ve used it.

In the end, it was between a shapeshifting or infatuation potion. Wednesday was not surprised when infatuation won. She suspects it was because this is the closest thing to a love potion the faculty would allow.

She’d be surprised if anyone could sneak a perfectly brewed batch of it out of the classroom. The ramifications of it would certainly be… public.

Walking into herbology filled her with a bitter memory of the last class. She took her seat and stared directly at the board, hoping her roommate wouldn’t make the mistake of interacting with her again.

It turns out, she didn’t have to worry. The second Enid sat down, she jumped back up with a blood curdling yell. And then fainted.

Ms. Thornhill rushed over to make sure she was okay. She was feeling for a pulse and tapping her cheek to see if she would wake up.

Wednesday took this opportunity to see what had spooked Enid. She was slightly disappointed when the cause of all this commotion was just a dead toad. Sure, it was on her seat, and sure, it was now obscenely squished, but honestly—fainting? Over that? Surely she had to have tougher nerves, being a werewolf and all.

She has to. Werewolves go deliciously rabid and hunt to their heart’s content every full moon. They even tend to eat their kill. Enid should be used to that.

So why doesn’t that seem to be the case?

Wednesday didn’t have much more time to think it over as Ms. Thornhill started her lecture.

“I hope everyone remembers last class because today we’re going to put that theory into practice!” She clapped excitedly. “Alrighty! Everyone is gonna get their chance to feed our African Strangler Flytrap! As you remember, they’re strictly carnivorous. Today is less about realizing how to deal with the plant and more how well you can handle instructions. That’s why I picked one of my slowest subjects for this test run!”

Wednesday’s eyebrows drew together. That species is anything but slow. Stealthy, sure, but not an introductory level plant. Cleopatra would be offended if she knew her bretherin was being treated in this way.

As the teacher wheeled the display pot to the front of the room, Wednesday immediately knew something was wrong.

Students lined up and donned proper handling equipment—the first accurate thing this class taught—before stepping into the plant’s danger zone. One after the other extended tongs with a miniscule cube of meat at the end. Wednesday sneered at the smell of frozen beef. Honestly, could they not mistreat this creature any more?

It was finally Wednesday’s turn. Ms. Thornhill stepped in front of her. “It’s okay if you don’t participate today, Wednesday. You weren’t there for half of our last class—I wouldn’t expect you to face this plant unprepared.”

Wednesday glared at her. She took her gloves off but instead of returning to her seat, she stepped right in front of the plant. Prying it’s jaw open with one hand, she stuck her arm down it’s throat. Her fingers caught on something she knows shouldn’t be there. Pulling it out, she tsked at the large piece of plastic in her hand.

The African Strangler Flytrap vomited the stale beef in an aftershock. Wednesday picked up the tongs and walked to the back of the class, scooping up the dead frog from the trashcan that it was thrown in. Perfectly timed, the flytrap stopped retching just as she drew near. Wednesday stuck the frog in its mouth and it practically purred in delight.

She turned to Ms. Thornhill. “I’m offended you call yourself a herbology teacher. This breed is by no means a slow hunter. You must’ve come to this conclusion when it ate plastic as a means of obtaining sustenance since those pellets you call a meal is hardly enough to keep it full. Not to mention the quality of the meat.” Wednesday picked up and sniffed a cube. “Frozen. A month old. All nutritional value drained from it due to mass production.” She flicked it off her hand. “Fresh kill is crucial for a thriving African Strangler Flytrap.”

Just as the teacher was about to say something, a sneaking vine pulled her leg from under her. She screamed.

“See? It’s furious at its treatment.” Wednesday scratched at its mouth in the way Cleopatra always adores. It dropped Ms. Thornhill and stopped drooling voraciously but rather like an overly excited puppy.

The teacher backed up quickly, stumbling over her feet as vines tried snapping at her again.

Wednesday almost smiled.

Despite her eventful day, Wednesday still hadn’t forgotten the piece of paper from the raven. Thing had been scouring the school library since the end of lunch. As she came to check up on him, he presented the best books he could find on he history of these school grounds.

Wednesday quickly read through the ones Thing looked over, but found nothing useful. He continued his search through the shelves and Wednesday was left alone with her thoughts. So, naturally, they returned to the earlier topic of her roommate. Although it’s been a while since an Addams was a lycanthrope, she’s pretty sure she understands their morphology.

…Still, it’s better to be certain. Wednesday took to skimming through werewolf books. Most of it was the usual “your body is going through changes!” and she was getting increasingly frustrated. Snapping the latest book closed, she concluded werewolves, as a whole, were annoyingly difficult to make sense of. Apparently each needs a “pack” of friends to feel secure as the full moon rises—hence lone werewolves causing most of the species’ disturbing folklore.

Enid has a pack, right? Those same people who she’s always smiling and laughing around. But they haven’t gone running through the forest together. In fact, it seems as if Enid avoids going outside with them.

If she wants to have a miserable transformation this full moon, who is Wednesday to stop her?

Wednesday left all thoughts of her roommate back with the pile of books she abandoned. Thing still wasn’t finished in his own research, so she took to learning the specifics of the infatuation potion. It was a surprisingly easy find once she subjected herself to the frilly pink book called Enchant your Beloved.

The potion, like many others in this category, relied on the inherent magic of sirens to temporarily enthrall someone to the first eligible person they lay eyes on. It is, by far, the tamest potion in the book. Its definition of “enthrall” is barely past platonic, but it is definitely obsessive.

Wednesday closed that book with another feeling of disappointment. This library is not living up to her expectations.

Thing snapped to get her attention as he pointed at a paragraph. Wednesday peered over to find it was about Crackstone’s Crypt.

‘They died together. You found the first half at Goody’s grave, so—’

“The other must be at his.” Wednesday nodded. She scanned the description to find the crypt’s location. It was practically as far away from the witches’ gravesite as it could be.

Wednesday got up, slung her bag over her shoulder, and headed off into the woods with Thing.

“Well, this is anticlimactic.” Wednesday stared at the sarcophagus in the middle of the room. Thing had taken to filing his nails.

Her only positive takeaway from this was the stale air and gloomy, firelit atmosphere.

Then the raven flew in and landed atop the stone structure. It croaked at her.

“Of course you’d be here, too.” She slid her backpack off and crouched down to further inspect the engravings below the bird. The two longer sides told of his conquests and his downfall while the shorter ends told of his family and his success. At least, she figured that the last section was about success due to it having an engraved gem above intricately chiseled locked doors.

She picked around the gem, trying to figure out how it was set into the stone. And then it fell off. The raven squawked at the sudden noise before flying off. Thing scurried over to see what was going on.

It wasn’t just the gemstone that fell. It was a whole curved piece with sharp and clean corners indicating that it coming loose wasn’t an accident. Wednesday traced her fingers over the indentation it left behind. Curious.

She pocketed the broken off piece and left the crypt with Thing on her shoulder. The ten minute warning bell rang in the distance but she was certain she’d get back before the curfew check-in.

Wednesday slipped in just before Ms. Thornhill rounded the corner. She settled at her desk and pulled out her textbook before the doorknob jiggled open.

“Oh! Look at you two, being all studious! Enjoy your night, girls!” The dorm head smiled at Enid’s “Goodnight!” before closing the door.

“So where were you?” Enid glanced over to Wednesday at her desk.

“The library.”

She didn’t believe her. “And the library has dirt floors?”

“Yes.”

She snorted. “Sure, whatever. Don’t expect me to cover for you if anyone asks.”

Wednesday slid her textbook away to make room for her typewriter. “I’ve never asked that of you.”

Enid groaned as the tell-tale clacks started up again.

“Would you rather I have my writing hour later in the night?”

“…No.” She grumbled.

Thing took it upon himself to make peace between the two. He brought over his manicure kit to Enid’s bed and quietly proposed a nail session. She grinned and brought out vials of nail polish. They quickly fell into a rhythm as the sound of Wednesday’s typing filled the room.

Maybe the room assignments weren’t as horrendously misaligned as Wednesday once thought. She could handle these unspoken agreements. It might even be preferable to reinstating new rules with an unfamiliar roommate.

Hm. She’ll consider this once the first semester ends.

Chapter Text

Wednesday woke up to a pop song being played over their agreed volume level. Now, she did the logical thing. She considered why. Sinclair’s alarm? No, it was a different song. A mistake? No, it would’ve been fixed  by now. A deliberate plan to get on her nerves? Yes.

She threw a knife that embedded itself in the floorboard just in front of Enid’s stereo. “My next dagger will go straight for its speaker.”

Enid struggled to pull the weapon out of the wood. Once it did, she stumbled back with a yelp. “So that’s how it’s gonna be?” She said over her obscenely loud song. “No niceties, no apologies, no backtalking your one-sided rules? Comply or be met with violence?”

Enid took a step towards the middle of their room, her demeanor a dark juxtaposition to everything else on her side. “What about what I want? My needs? My happiness? Oh wait, you don’t feel happy. You don’t smile, you don’t laugh, and you sure as hell don’t have friends.” Enid was well-past the duct tape line.

She laughed bitterly. “It’s not like you’re devoid of options—you choose to not pursue them. You choose to be alone and you hope I’ll fall right in line so you can get your wish. I’ve put up with you for a week and I thought we were reaching some kind of agreement but apparently we weren’t. You did things your way so now we’re doing things my way. Until you can get your head out of your ass and work with me, I’m doing whatever I want however I want and you’re just gonna have to deal with it.”

Wednesday could only stare as her world spun around her. It was nauseating. Not like the aftermath of Grandmama’s oiled kraken dish, but something else entirely.

It was not enjoyable.

Enid took the other’s silence as opposition and stormed out of the room.

Wednesday took a steadying breath. She was out of the room. The music had stopped—oh, that was Thing’s doing. She checked the time. Good, her schedule had yet to be interrupted.

She tore her eyes away from the color overload that is Enid’s side and started her morning rituals. Everything was fine.

Everything was fine.

Wednesday hesitated on the way back to the castle. She had just picked up one of her leftover carcasses from yesterday’s hunt when she reconsidered going into the courtyard. There’s too many people making too much noise for her to deal with at the moment.

Not to mention, half the fun of breakfast in Nevermore was lightly threatening her roommate. But her past attendance records and this morning led Wednesday to decide the drawbacks outweighed the benefits.

Thing quickly adapted to her decision and made breakfast for her. She ate without another word and he pestered her in a sickeningly concerned nature.

“Whatever you think is happening, it isn’t.” She glared at him. “Stop exuding your sentimentality, it is unbecoming of you.”

Thing shied away but she could still feel his gaze on her.

Wednesday huffed and stood up from the makeshift breakfast table, chair screeching against the floor. Without waiting for Thing, she snatched her backpack and left the room.

Literature class started and Wednesday fell into her usual classroom mindset, blocking out everything but the lesson being taught.

That is, until he started talking about the literary device of communion.

“Meals of any kind indicate connections or lack thereof between characters. Much can be said about the atmosphere, the food, and the conversation that takes place in these scenes.”

Wednesday gritted her teeth and tried extremely hard to not think about her life through this analytic scope. Sure, she was a writer, but this is her life, not a story. She shouldn’t need to overanalyze her interactions because they have no hidden meaning.

At least, that’s what she’s trying to think.

She was also ‘trying to think,’ period. She felt as if she was a circus monkey. People were throwing peanuts at her to see if she’ll do a trick. Mr. Vandorien kept glancing at her for insight and her classmates kept staring at her curiously as she continued not to speak.

Wednesday wasn’t entirely sure if her lack of concentration was what caused other students to watch her or if it was the other way around. Either way, this class was absolute hell.

Wednesday fled the class. Unfortunately, that led to a second, worse, outcome. She had to change in the locker room with the majority of her class. Stalling wasn’t an option. It was cowardly. So she steeled her nerves and entered the fray.

The ambient chatter immediately quieted. Wednesday disregarded the stares and went to her locker. Thankfully, there were a few bathroom stalls in here. She sheltered inside one to change.

Letting out an inaudible exhale of relief, Wednesday relished in her slice of solitude. The racket eventually kicked up again as the werewolves started shoving into each other, their rowdiness only increasing with the upcoming full moon.

Wednesday only came out when she heard the chaos trail out of the room. She had a sinking feeling that this class might be as bad as the last.

It was worse. It was so much worse.

Coach Folio tried wrangling everyone to do another set of measurements because of the upcoming circumstances, but that fell through instantly. Not wanting to give unfair treatment to certain species, the entire class was taken to what was basically an oversized playground and let loose.

Wednesday sneered as the “pack” started a game of tag, all but running into her as they fled from the tagger. Groups of friends were setting up camp and using this as a free period. There was screaming, squealing, laughing, and grinning at every turn.

Revolting.

So, naturally, she climbed the highest tree she could find. The rustle of leaves in the wind drowned out most of the noise below her. She watched everyone and absentmindedly calculated if she could nail the gaggle of werewolves that were getting close to the base of her tree.

After the third not-quite-in-range student passed beneath her, she heard the familiar sound of rustling feathers. The raven landed on a branch just at her eye level.

It croaked and Wednesday raised an eyebrow. “Your sworn enemy is right below us. Wouldn’t you rather annoy her than me?”

It ruffled its feathers and let out an indignant squawk.

“Suit yourself.” She turned back to her classmates.

After a few minutes, the bird took to preening its feathers. Wednesday only looked up as it held a fairly large feather in its beak. It shifted closer to her. She tilted her head and held onto the end of the offered object. It chirped and waddled back to its original spot.

Wednesday twirled the well-maintained feather in her hand. With her other, she caught the rock.

She tossed it once, felt its weight, then shot it right back. It hit the boy that tried to attack the raven. The people around him quickly realized he wasn’t getting back up. They started scrambling around like a hill of ants sensing danger.

The corner of Wednesday’s mouth ticked upwards. Finally, something went her way today.

Nevermind.

She was now in Headmistress Weems’s office for “assault and battery.” Honestly, if he didn’t want to be hurt, he shouldn’t have provided her with a weapon. Weems had gone on a rant about “self control” and Wednesday was fed up.

“I hadn’t thrown the first stone.”

She paused in her speech. “…What?”

Wednesday locked eyes with her. “He had thrown it at the raven beside me. If it hit the bird, it would’ve killed it. Werewolves have more strength around this time of the month and birds are already fragile with their hollow bones. I only discouraged others to try again.”

The headmistress was still fuming but she stayed silent in thought. She finally asked, “What is your connection to this bird?”

“Mrs. Kasuma believes it to be my familiar.”

She exhaled. “I will get back to you later. I need the full story to give out the proper punishment.” She started putting on her overcoat. “Go back to class and stand by Coach Folio until he dismisses everyone for lunch. Expect to be notified by tomorrow morning.”

Wednesday nodded and walked back to class.

Sitting next to the coach was one of the most uneventful yet humiliating things she’s ever done. It implies that she’d been caught. There was nothing to be caught in. She was simply returning (not even tenfold) what he put forth.

“Come on, Enid!” Her brooding was interrupted. “You’ve been complaining about her and her bird for the past week! Don’t tell us you weren’t thinking of doing it too—we all saw you fight that raven in the courtyard!”

“I never planned to kill it!” Her roommate growled back.

“So what? You’d let her walk all over you?” Another werewolf chimed in. “Or is it because you can’t kill? You haven’t shown up for any of our hunts. You don’t even like to roughhouse with us.”

Enid picked up a stone and chucked it at the swings, tearing a hole straight through one of the metal chains holding it up. She turned back to them with a glare. “I’m perfectly capable of killing. You just forget I have to room with her at the end of the day.”

The group grumbled and shifted to another conversation. Enid glanced at Wednesday with an unreadable expression before turning back to the werewolves.

Wednesday couldn’t wait to change roommates.

Lunch is honestly the worst of the three meal times. At breakfast, everyone is waking up and at dinner, everyone is winding down. Everyone enters lunch awake and leaves even more energized.

Wednesday had been taking her food to-go as she explored the empty halls of Nevermore. Sometimes she even considers the presents from the raven as she wanders. Today was no different.

Well, almost.

“Hey, Ms. Popular.”

“A frog is an interesting choice of prey.”

Bianca rolled her eyes. “I’m doing good, thanks for asking. Anyways, I heard you knocked one of Enid’s werewolf buddies unconscious. Congratulations.”

Wednesday looked at her. “I didn’t do anything but return the favor.”

“Either way, a little birdie told me about the rift starting to form between Enid and the school’s pack. Do you have any plans regarding her and the full moon?”

“Should I?”

Bianca shrugged. “Might be interesting. Though, we might have to lay off for a short while just in case people start thinking her reputation is being targeted. If that happens, they’ll take her side no matter what we throw at her.”

“Hm. I’ll refrain from antagonizing her this weekend. Werewolf pack drama will be enough to carry on our operation in our absence.”

“Agreed.” Bianca flashed her a smile and walked away.

Wednesday let her go as her thoughts slipped back to the raven. The piece she found at the crypt didn’t feel complete. The gem was dull and the ends of the arc had an uneven interlocking pattern. She also suspected the note she found at the graveyard is hinting to a larger scheme.

So if one truly was for sorrow, then two must be for mirth. There must be another raven statue, this time in a place of joy. The bird that’s been following her around seems to show up at important places—she can confirm her suspicions about a clue location by using it.

…But where would people feel mirth?

It wasn’t something that Wednesday paid attention to. In fact, she actively avoided it. Others’ perceptions of “fun” were wildly different from her own.

Wednesday huffed and headed for the library. It helped her last time. Though she had ditched Thing earlier this morning. Which was completely fine. She could figure it out by herself.

Her irritation grew with every step she took. It took her a second, but she realized it wasn’t because of her situation, it was because she took the path that goes through the courtyard. During lunch.

Wednesday’s eye twitched as she rounded the corner and traveled through the pentagon. She was trying not to let the overflow of cliques upon cliques get to her, but there was only so much she could take.

Oh.

Wait.

The courtyard.

Wednesday looked up and saw the towering fountain in the grassy field’s center. It had a raven at the top. Not to mention, the first time Wednesday met the bird, it was at a table here. And eating together is one of literature’s most prominent methods of implying closeness between people without being too overt.

That was enough reasoning for Wednesday to climb the fountain. So she did.

Without getting her feet wet, she scaled up and down the stone as she retrieved the vial of parchment from the statue’s beak. Her surroundings hadn’t registered until she realized the courtyard had gone silent. She seems to have that effect. 

Before anything could happen, she walked away. A new mystery was calling her.

She entered her dorm room and immediately reached for her knife. There were people in here. Enid was, of course, the center of this intrusion.

Wednesday felt sick at the prospect of them messing around her belongings. “Get. Out.”

A few students scrambled to get away but about half stayed. The more idiotic ones even growled.

“What the hell, Addams?” Enid rose to meet her.

Silver flashed as Wednesday dropped a dagger from her sleeve. “Everyone. Out.”

“No.” Enid snapped at her. “This is my room too. I invited them here, they’re allowed to stay.”

“Not without consulting me.” She gritted out.

The blonde’s face reddened. “This is exactly what I’m talking about! You dictate everything that’s meant to be compromised on! You sneak out after curfew and of course I don’t tell—but when I bring people to the dorm—while following the rules!— you go berserk!”

Wednesday sneered at the others. “I give you distance since every time we’re in prolonged contact, things like this happen. You, on the other hand, encroach on my sensibilities and never know when to back down.” In a blink, her blade was up against Enid’s neck.

The werewolf’s returning growl was cut short as the bell rang, indicating the end of lunch. Enid and her friends picked up their bags and left the room, glaring daggers at Wednesday.

Just as the door slammed behind them, Wednesday took in her surroundings. Her clogged throat loosened as she raked through her belongings that, against all odds, stayed intact and in their places.

She finally observed her last object—an old gramophone—and was put at ease. The intruders still weren’t tolerated in the slightest, but at least they hadn’t messed with anything.

Thing took this as an opportunity to pop up from under her bed. ‘Are you alright?’

Wednesday pulled out her typewriter. “What gave you the impression I wasn’t?”

He didn’t have eyes but Wednesday could definitely feel his gaze on her. Well, the good thing about typing was that Thing couldn’t communicate through the visual and auditory blockage.

She clocked in her hour long writing session now just in case her roommate threw a tantrum over it later.

Wednesday scrapped every page she wrote.

Thing clung to her backpack as Wednesday made her way to History. While she was reaching for her supplies, she spotted the stowaway and scowled. He then took this tolerance as an opportunity to pester her with “concerns”.

‘You seem stressed.’

‘Enid doesn’t mean any harm.’

‘You two should sit and talk it out.’

She ignored him for the entire class.

When the day finally ended, Wednesday made her way back to her thankfully empty room to continue writing. Her earlier session wasn’t as fruitful as she had hoped it would be. Thankfully, this time around seemed to be going smoother.

Viper had just disposed of the men who had targeted her. She knew the case was a cover up and that she’d anger some dangerous people, but honestly she thought they’d send more experienced mercenaries. As Viper searched through their belongings, she found a symbol commonly associated with one of the local crime syndicates.

Still, she frowned. Their murder signatures didn’t align with what she found on the victim. They were hunting her to stop her investigation but they failed to meet the same standards shown during their first loose end.

Which means only one thing. Something else is at play.

Viper’s world spun around her. Previous clues—acid burns, bruised knuckles, disheveled hair—slotted into place. The murder scene was unusual, not just unique.

She let herself be swayed by the detectives. They were looking for a gang due to the immediate surrounding clues. If she didn’t know better, she would have agreed with their assessment. She followed her gut instinct to investigate further and it paid off.

The red herrings led her astray. She must reconsult her gathered evidence with a new mindset. More loose ends Viper thought she’d tied together fell apart under her critical gaze. Perhaps the most important redirect was the very first—

The door opened. Enid walked in with music blaring so loud it bled through her headphones. Wednesday’s hands immediately curled into fists. It’s fine. It’s lower than the volume they agreed on. It’s fine.

It’s not fine.

Wednesday crossed the room and sliced through her roommate’s audio cord.

“What the fuck?” Enid yanked her broken headphones off.

She immediately slid the dagger up to the other’s throat, a mirror of their earlier encounter. “You’ve tormented me all day. Usually, I would appreciate that, but your methods fail to live up to those of Herman Webster Mudgett. Then you say we must live in harmony yet you fail to give me a reprieve during our leisure time. If you truly—”

Enid laughed in her face.

“I’ve tormented you? After all you’ve done? I’m not going to lay down while you walk all over me,” Enid snarled as she pushed further into the blade. “I’ve tried ignoring you and complying to your rules but you keep doing this. Making me cower, get into trouble, look like an idiot. Making me feel like I’m worth less than I am because I can’t follow your stupid rules—”

Wednesday sneered. “Everyone before you was able to, why should you be the exception?”

“Because you won’t do it.”

“…What?”

Enid grinned—manic and unhinged and glorious —as she finally snared Wednesday in her bear trap. “You won’t harm me.” Her breathing had become heavy, maybe it was due to exhilaration or proximity, but definitely not fear. She truly believed her words.

Wednesday was itching to slit her throat. To watch as blood trailed down her neck while her eyes widened in shock. The victory of proving her wrong while never having to hear from her again.

But then reality caught up to her. She’d be expelled. She’d never solve the mystery she was just starting to uncover. She’d be sent back home and everyone would know she can’t control her impulses. She refuses to let this insufferable werewolf tarnish her reputation.

Her hand started to shake, the dagger glinting with every tremor. But its shine was diminishing. Because of the blood. Wednesday had done what she had just sworn to never do.

Dazed at her lack of control, she pulled back. For the first time in her life, she couldn’t meet another’s eyes. She was afraid of what she would find if she looked up. Wednesday ran for their bathroom.

The door slammed behind her but she didn’t care. She sank to the floor and tried to stop her body from shaking. It shouldn’t be doing this.

Only Enid Sinclair could bring out the worst in her.