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Chapter Text

This is fanfiction. Wednesday Addams and The Addams Family are not mine, I don't own either of the books or movies/series about The Addams Family and Wednesday Addams. All rights reserved to Tim Burton, writers, directors, and the production of The Addams Family and Wednesday Addams. I only own my original character(s) and some plot twists.

I just wrote this to fill the pit of my longing for more Wednesday Addams Fanfics.

First time writing fanfiction. It's a shame I don't have a typewriter like Wednesday has. That'll be cool :3

English is my second language. Constructive criticisms, corrections, and suggestions are highly welcome since I don't proofread. Comments are highly welcome! I like to interact with people :3

Wednesday Addams x Female OC (not reader, but you have the freedom to just imagine yourself instead)

Timeline:
The Addams Family Values
Wednesday Addams S1

Warning:

Slow-burn (Slow-paced)

Out of character Wednesday (and other characters)

Wrong grammar and mistakes

Dark humour and themes

Swearing

Pictures used in this story are not mine unless stated. I found them on Pinterest, credits to the rightful owners <3

Inspired by every isekai stories I have read.

Chapter Text

The moon glowed brightly above the starry night, as the stars cast a dull glow to the world that lay half-asleep, most were tucked into their beds, while others were awake or busy, among them was a girl, not older than 19.

Her room, which she calls her sanctuary, was painted in soft muted pink, the walls filled with shelves that display her multitudinous interests, such as a hefty amount of hand-crafted dolls, among them was a Wednesday Addams doll. Plushies, taxidermized animals (legally sourced), and a plethora of preserved insects are scattered in every corner of her room; most find it creepy, but she doesn't care, as long as she finds them endearing and adorable. A 6 ft tall skeleton in a pink gingham dress and glasses stood proudly near her bed, which was untidy, filled with plushies that took nearly all of the space in her bed.

In front of her working desk, there she was, seated, hunched back like a cooked shrimp. She was working on yet another custom-made doll of Wednesday Addams as her laptop glowed faintly while Wednesday (the series) played. Multitasking between stitching and watching, her hands shaky, hair tied in a messy bun, her numb fingers stained with paint and glue. Her eyes were sunken as if she hadn't slept for days.

Of course, she was. She was making another Wednesday doll to add to her collection.

"You're so pretty," she whispered, her eyes longingly looking at her screen. "I couldn't stop making dolls that look like you," she spoke as if she were talking to Wednesday Addams herself.

"I just don't find the dolls in the store cute enough for me," she complained, her hands hovering when she felt a sharp pain in her head, her vision turning blurry.

"Sh*t, not now - I'm not -"

Everything went black, and her body fell to the floor with a dull thud. The unfinished doll remained in her hands loosely. The voice of Wednesday Addams echoed in her sanctuary.

And then, something shifted. The lights adorning her room flickered, her laptop glitched, and then it dimmed. The doll in her hand started to glow, and white light, enough to blind anyone who witnessed it, filled the whole room. And then it vanished, her sanctuary, still, quiet; the girl lay on the cold floor; there was no movement, no breath.

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I opened my eyes, expecting to be on the floor, but I was mistaken.. I was... where am I exactly?

I looked around, and everything was white, endless, and too quiet for my liking. I wasn't in my room, that was for sure.

It wasn't a room either, or maybe it was, maybe I fell into the backroom, or maybe I'm dreaming? After all, I have always been dreaming of weird things that I can't explain ever since I was a kid. Maybe that's why I wasn't terrified right now.

POP

I turned my head at the sudden noise behind me, and there I saw what looked like a white fluffy ball floating around.

"Hello. You are dead." The fluffy ball stated in a monotone and robotic voice.

"Well, that's way too straightforward to be a dream," I deadpanned, but I quickly realised the situation I was in when the words sank in.

"Wait, no, no, NO, I HAVEN'T FINISHED MAKING MY WEDNESDAY DOLL!" My eyes widened with panic as I slumped on the floor, utterly devastated.

"I didn't even manage to finish it," I muttered, heartbroken, staring off into nothingness.

"Do not worry. You are good, therefore you'll be reincarnated. You don't need to worry. Goodbye," the ball replied, entirely unfazed, not wasting any more time. It disappeared with another pop.

I lifted my head when it spoke, my teary eyes wide, and my eyebrows twitched. It vanished before my eyes before I could ask anything.

"Wait, wh-" she was cut off, then a searing bright light hit my vision, swallowing me whole.

And then -
Nothing.

Chapter Text

I woke up gasping, my body jerked upright, chest rising and falling, my heart pounding heavily like it would rip through my chest.

I felt the cold, stiff yet somewhat damp concrete. My eyes roamed around the makeshift room, which was a basement. This was not my sanctuary; the wall was broken with mold in it. The ceiling above me was very low and cracked, with water dripping down; no wonder the floor was wet.

I blinked hard, multiple times. Taking in what I'm seeing right now.

Something is off. Am I dreaming again? But then again, it feels more surreal than most of my dreams. My eyes burned.

Where am I?

I look at my hands, this. This wasn't my hand. I panic, my eyes roaming my body, it wasn't mine. I was smaller, thin, and worst of all, I reeked of sweat and wet socks. I spotted broken pieces of mirror near the corner of this room, standing up shakily, my legs were weaker, I rushed across the room and picked up the broken mirror.

My body froze, my eyes shaking when I looked at myself in the mirror. It was still me, but younger, thinner, and dirtier. Voice cracking when I said "what the?" My throat, dry.

And then realization hit me like a damn truck as my legs gave out and I hit the floor. I died, that was for sure, due to lack of sleep. Well, that's one way of dying.. peacefully and then I reincarnated.. but where? The fluffy ball didn't let me ask anything before the light flash.

This wasn't my room, so me time-travelling is out of the case- Footsteps thudded above me, I flinched when the door behind me burst open, as two figures walked in.

"Prepare your things," a woman, not older than 40, spat at me. "You're going to Camp Chippewa, whether you like it or not," a man, not older than 50, continued. Their eyes were cold and their voice were stern, voices that I didn't recognise. They were looking at me with disgust. Which I don't understand.

Wait.

I inhale a sharp breath. "Camp Chippewa?" I murmured, zoning out.

"As your parents, we've noticed you've been acting odd, freakish, and making those creepy things? Don't make it harder than it already is," the man flatly said and eyed the boxes in the corner beside me with revulsion. "You're not normal, and most certainly not my daughter, not with that freakishness," the woman snapped, her arms crossed.

"Your freakishness must be stumped out. Camp Chippewa will help with that." They gave me one last look and slammed the door shut, the walls and the ceiling groaning at the impact. While I stayed rooted at the same spot.

Camp Chippewa... that name echoed in my brain. It was way too familiar-

Wednesday.

That was where Wednesday and Pugsley went when they were kids.

Silence filled the basement, except for the water dripping from the ceiling. This wasn't a coincidence. It should be fiction, a name never meant to leave the screen and the book. Yet here I was, breathing the same air as her and living in her world.

My hands trembled, breathing heavily, my body collapsed on the floor once again, head aching from the surge of thoughts and memories crashing all at once.

I reincarnated in the Wednesday Addams Universe. My heart was beating so fast from the sheer thought of me being reincarnated in the same world as her... I am in a world where a younger me and the Addams Family exist. A younger me, whose parents are disgusted at her presence due to the interests that she possesses. The same interests and hobbies that I have, now I'm her.

In an attempt to fix me, they're gonna be sending me to Camp Chippewa, the same camp where Wednesdays are. The shows that I know by heart. I knew the movies, the series, and the book. This was the Addams Family Values timeline..

I pulled my knees to my chest, and I put my chin on top of them. "I'm going to see Wednesday." A small, shaky smile graced my face. And that's all that matters. But first, I need to pack my things. I saw the man (or rather the so-called parents of younger me), Eyes full of disgust while looking at the boxes, so I assume that's where they keep all of my stuff.

Chapter Text

I stood up and looked at the stacked boxes in the corner of this basement. It was all banged up, yet there were no specks of dust. It seems like the younger me made sure it was as clean as it could be. I rummaged through the boxes one by one in hopes of finding anything useful, such as clothes and amenities, but instead I found old, worn clothes that didn't fit, a hefty amount of Christmasdecorationsn and random knick-knacks that's perfect for crafting.

Then I saw something, a wooden box tucked in the corner, that was remarkably standing out from the rest of the cardboard boxes. My name was written on the lid, which made my brow knit from confusion. I open it up, and my heartbeats spike.

"What the hell?" I uttered, and I was in disbelief. Did the fluffy ball send this?

Right on top of the folded clothes inside were my plushie, my gloomy bear. The one I bought and customized. I lifted it, my breath caught, my fingers clutched the doll, but not enough to break it, I noticed it was warm. The weird thing was, it looked brand new, as if it hadn't worn through countless nights of me hugging and carrying it. Putting the plushie aside, I saw almost a plethora of my clothes back in my world, and another weird thing was that they're all shrunk to fit my size.

I spread the cleanest cloth I could find on the floor and laid everything out. To my amazement, almost every piece of clothing, accessories, sketchbooks, and crafting tools from my world were here. And then I froze. Beneath the fabrics, I saw the unfinished Wednesday doll that I was working on before I died.

"What the.." I paused, fingers twitching as I continued to stare at it. Only two dolls managed to be here, which are my gloomy bear and the Wednesday doll. I don't know how it got here. I'm a bit saddened that most collections weren't here, but I guess that's too much. I could always make more anyway, after all, I make dolls and customised things for a living.

I began sorting them; fortunately, most of the things that I needed were inside the box.

'Is it like a lucky box bonus? A bonus that every isekai person gets when they go into another world?If that's the case, then.. Thank God.' I don't think I would be able to survive without these things that make me, me.

I let out a sigh of relief as I managed to fit all of my stuff in 1 suitcase and 1 medium-sized bag. Obviously, I didn't bring all of the "freakish stuff" that my "new parents" loathed. I don't want them to ruin it, so I managed to hide some of it in the suitcase and the  bag, including my dolls. One thing I'm also good at is hiding stuff, and I learn it from my parents.

The door flew open, and my parents swept into the basement without knocking. Their eyes were sharp, and the woman's heels clicked against the concrete floor. The man's eyes narrowed at the suitcase and bag.

"Do you have everything packed?" His voice was stern and detached. I made sure to meet his eyes when I answered "Yes," flatly. The woman eyed the boxes suspiciously. "You better not bring your freakishness. Are we clear?" Her tone was sharp. Not giving any room for persuasion. Her aura screamed that if I did, she would punish me, which is not surprising.

"Yes," I uttered, lying so perfectly as their eyes scrutinised me, thinking whether I was telling the truth or not. Good thing that I already thought this would happen, I've come prepared.

The man gave me a short nod, satisfied with my answer. "Good. Leave all of the freakishness here in the basement. Do Not Bring it to the Camp." He repeated, walking his way towards me, and he grabbed my bags and gestured to me to follow them out of the basement. Finally, I was stepping out of this old, di,m and musty basement where they locked me in for punishment.

When I stepped into the hallway, my eyes squinted to adjust to the brightness that the basement didn't have. The house that lay before my eyes was painfully normal and vintage. It was bright, the floors were a well-polished hardwood, as if it had been recently renovated, matching its cream colored walls. Paintings and photographs hung on the walls, glass and porcelain vases with flower arrangements were littered all across the room. Everything screamed rich, but not in an excessive way.

'Damn, they are rich, yet here I was suffering in the basement.t It was simple, of course, they didn't want my freakishness in their normal life. That's why I was in the basement. Making me stay there as a punishment for my hobbies and interests for weeks because they deemed it wasn't normal and would certainly not fit their.. aesthetics.

They led me to the bathroom. The woman uttered one word, "Shower," and whose fault is it that I'm in this state?. "We wouldn't allow you to set foot in the camp looking.. Like that," the man added, gesturing to my dirty clothes, and I couldn't help but agree more. I'll be meeting The Addams Family in the Camp, and I'll cremate myself if they see me in this state.

I stepped into the bathroom, and the first thing I saw was folded clothes near the sink. I hop ointothe shower and clean myself. Finally, getting rid of the awful smell, I made sure to scrub myself clean and washed my hair thoroughly. When I hopped out of the tub, I smelled wonderful, like flowers.

I wrapped the towel around my body and grabbed the clothes that they had prepared for me. It was a white pass knee-length dress; it had cherries printed on it and a red ribbon around the waist. Paired it with white socks and maroon colored Mary Jane shoes. This wasn't bad; they have good taste.

"Good, you look presentable now." The woman said when I stepped out of the bathroom. The man agreed, appraising me like I was a finished product. I didn't say anything and cast my eyes down at my shoes after all. It's better to stay quiet at a time like this.

Chapter Text

The silence that filled the car was suffocating. Until the man spoke to break it. "Camp Chippewa will be good for you," he proclaimed. His tone was still flat as ever, his gaze locked on the road.

"Maybe, you'll finally learn to be normal, like the rest of us. If not.. Then you know what will happen." the woman remarked dryly but with a hint of warning.

'I actually don't know what will happen, but I have some guesses' I internally scoffed. I kept my eyes on the window, watching the rich neighbourhoods pass by.

"Exactly, You'll be busy with proper activities, so those.. Hobbies of yours will cease to exist after the camp." I saw him glancing at me in the rearview mirror through my peripheral vision. I just kept my gaze on the windows,

"Penelope" she warned, her voice stoic.

Uh oh, I don't like the sound of that. I turned my head infront, having eye to eye contact with my 'father' . My face lacking emotions.

"Yes?" I replied flatly, without making it sound disrespectful.

"Remember your new name, Penelope Blythe, my maiden last name. We do not want to be associated with you. And do not talk about us to anyone." She explained seriously. I don't even know them and most certainly do not care, so I don't mind taking her maiden last name.

"Sure.." My tone is polite enough for them not to notice my sarcasm. Because let's be real, who would wanna be associated with them? Seriously, though, they should be in jail for child abuse and neglect.

The rest of the car ride continued with silence until the sign came into view, "Camp Chippewa" just like how I remembered it from the movie. Crooked twigs and pines that spelled out the camp's name.

The car stopped against the gravel. They placed my luggage down, and then with a slam, they were gone. I was left to fend off to myself. No words were spoken, no goodbyes, not even a wave.. They left just like that, making it seem like being spotted with me by anyone will damage their reputation. Which they are paranoid about.

I let out a sigh, crouching down to unzip the bag, I pulled out my gloomy bear plush for comfort. Crowded places just like this camp - even if they're full of children way younger than me - still makes me uncomfortable, and my plushie provided enough comfort. I saw some kids glanced at me, wrinkling their noses and eyes full of disgust, then they ran off. It didn't bother me, obviously. The fewer people that I had to deal with, the better. My social battery wouldn't last that long anyway.

The air in the camp was thick, full of people wearing pastels, loud chattering, squealing, talking all at once. I squinted my eyes at the sun glaring to my skin. I should've bought my parasol, though, but it was too bulky.

If hell had a summer camp, this would be it, of course, I'm just overacting. Back in my past life, the sun was 10 times hotter than this due to the fact that the ozone layer was crumbling. I'm grateful at the wind that smelled oddly like pines as it protects me against the heat.

I stopped rambling in my mind when I saw them. The Addamses in their glory. My heart beat fast as I saw them stepped out of the car.

'Okay, stay cool. Just because I know them from the movies and the books, that doesn't mean they know me.' They're ACTUAL LIVING PEOPLE, not actors, not fictional, not characters. I'm not here to fangirl.. too much.

I saw Wednesday emerge in the flesh. She looks so cute with her black dress, hair in perfect braids, her face lacking emotions or rather, she wore an expression that said that she'd rather be anywhere else, afterall she was forced by her parents - courtesy of Debbie- to be here. Seeing her in real life was surreal. It's like watching your favourite character walk off the screen, but in my case, she's not fictional. She's real, breathing, and living.

I saw a familiar girl walk towards the Addamses as I had already started making my way towards them, too. Not too close, but not too far either. She stopped infront of Wednesday, smugness leeking off her.

"Hi! Im Amanda Buckman" the girl introduced. 'Ah yes.. the annoying one' I tend to forget names that hold no value for me. Her voice- sugary and sharp, as I remember it to be. She's looking at Wednesday like she was examining a bug under a microscope. "Why are you dressed like that?" And there it was, the famous line.

"Like what?" Wednesday deadpan.

"Like you're going to a funeral! Why are you dressed as though someone died?"

"Wait." Wednesday's voice was flat.

I couldn't help myself but butt in. "And why are you so pressed about the way she dressed?" I proclaimed as I stepped closer to the side, between them.

"Her outfit matches the occasion" Nodding towards the camp entrance. "This place feels like it's already dead inside." I added. This girl irritated me throughout the whole movie.

Wednesday's eyes shifted towards me, her head tilted slightly, her mouth twitched approvingly, it was barely noticeable though, but I noticed it.

Amanda didn't have the time to reply when her parents stepped in. Although she did glared at me.

The man introduced himself to Gomez, "Don Buckman" while shaking his hand. "Isn't this place something else? Very exclusive, you know?" he continued.

"Really?, How so?" Gomez sounded unconvinced. And I couldn't help but agree. This place doesn't look anything special, it looks like a cult.

"You have to be extra special to get in here. Gifted. Exceptional." The man replied.

'And I was sent here to be normal,' i thought to myself sarcastically. I wasn't really gifted and exceptional to my "parents" eyes.

"Our Amanda has already skipped two grades." They boasted with pride. Proud at their daughter while Amanda smiled at us smugly.

"How about your boy?" The man inquired. I look at Pugsley, and I can't help myself but smile because of how adorable he looks. I have always been fond of Pugsley.

"Probation!" Gomez proudly proclaimed, his arms around Pugsley. I let out a quiet laugh in my head. They were really proud of him that he's on probation.

Mrs. Buckman's gaze flicked towards me. Uh oh, I don't like that look. "And you?, Where are your parents?" She asked while looking around for my supposed parents.

"They're busy, and I'm homeschooled." I replied convincingly. It was true that the younger me was homeschooled because she was bullied by her classmates, and her parents were embarrassed of her, so they decided to just hire a tutor and homeschooled her.

"Oh.. really? that's.. unusual." She tried to be polite, but she failed at that. I just shrugged at her. "Works for me tho, i don't have to socialize." i muttered. I saw Wednesday glanced at me again, longer this time, though.

Mrs Buckman's attention went to Wednesday. "And this little lady?" turning to Morticia as she asked.

"Wednesday's at that very special age, you know - where a girl has only one thing on her mind."

"Boys?" Mrs Buckman leaned in as she smiled widely.

"Homicide" Wednesday replied coldly like ice.

I smirked. "Much healthier hobby than boys." I muttered low enough not to be heard.

A shrill whistle cut through the air, I flinched when my ears rang at the noise. I knew it was coming, but it still hurt my ears. It was aggravating.

The owner(?) of the camp stood by the flagpole, grinning wildly. I tuned out their voices as they explained and introduced themselves.

"-Cause that's what being privileged is all about!" the woman shrieked. I forgot their names already.

Privileged, huh? "Sure," my eyes cast down. "If by fun, in their dictionary means torture for me." I was broken off from my inner monologue when Wednesday spoke. "Finally, someone who understands." Her lips curved a bit slightly. I didn't notice that I spoke out my thoughts, but I'm glad I did. I managed to make THE Wednesday Addams AGREED!! I say that's rewarding!

Chapter Text

The counselors or owners, whatever they are called, finished their little pep talk about Camp Chippewa with their wide smiles that looked painful to look at, I didn't bother listening to them. And then we were rushed to the cabins. I stayed back due to the fact that my luggage weighed more than my current body could carry and also due to not wanting to squeeze myself from all of the campers rushing towards the cabins. I value my own personal space, thank you very much.

A boy with glasses slowly approached me, who looked really familiar, but I couldn't remember his name. Ah, now I remember he was the boy that kissed Wednesday.

"Uh.. hi. I'm Joel." He introduced himself. He looks like he's out of breath already.

I blinked at him. "Penelope" Socializing is really not my forte. I don't know what else to add more. I shifted my gloomy bear in my arms, Joel stared at her claws. His gaze locked on the plush.

"Is that.. blood?" I couldn't discern whether his tone was horrified or fascinated. Either way, I don't really care.

"Yes." I said,in another beat,"But not from those you'll miss." He blinked at that.

"I'm kidding. It's fake." I forced out a laugh since he didn't get my joke disguised as sarcasm. He let out a sigh of relief from that. "Cool." I don't know if he meant it. Before I could utter anything, a shadow appeared on my other side.

"Cool bear," he said. I turned my head towards the voice, and my eyes widened slightly. It was Pugsley with his cute smile.

"My sister would like that. Probably, " he added.

"Then she has good taste." I replied.

"She doesn't like anything, though." He muttered to himself. His eyes stared elsewhere, I turned to look, and that's when I noticed Wednesday staring like she'll stab us if we moved wrong.

"Pugsley. Stop talking to strangers, " She said flatly, but I could sense the sternness in her voice.

"She's not a stranger." Pugsley shrugged."I just met her, " He reasoned out. Wednesday eyes gazed at me. It wasn't a friendly look as I expected it. She's more likely figuring out if I'm an eyesore or an oddity. I didn't say anything, though, neither did she, so we were just having an eye contest.

After a moment she spoke to me "Did your parents allow you to carry a maimed toy in public?" She asked flatly, her eyes scanning the gloomy bear in my arms, specifically the claws.

"Nope, never. They'll screech like a banshee if they see it since they picked this dress for me." I said while tugging at the dress. It was a noticeable contrast to my plushie.

She didn't utter any reply, nor blink, Wednesday turned and walked off while Pugsley shuffled juat behind her.

"That was.. intense, " Joel whispered. I forgot he was even there. I started walking, tugging my luggage since my body can't carry it, pretending that my heart hadn't jumped from my interactions with Wednesday.

In the afternoon, the first swim session started. I stood on the dock, as everyone else did. I was behind Wednesday and Amanda. I was clutching my shawl around my shoulders like a shield. For some reason, it was cold.

Amanda, as expected, was in front, wearing her one-piece, the same one as every girl camper here on the dock except me and wednesday. I didn't even own a swimsuit, I'm just wearing the same dress. I didn't bother changing.

Gary, I learned his name, and the counsellor blew off his whistle to get everyone's attention.

"We're gonna do, LIFESAVING!!" he shouted, making me flinch. He's too cheery and loud for my liking. I forgot that bit.

Gary beamed. "Now we get to show our stuff! First pair, Amanda, and Wednesday!" Amanda's smile couldn't get any more wider as she looked at Wednesday up and down. "Is that your bathing suit?" Her tone dripped with mockery. "Is that your overbite?" Wednesday remarked on the obvious. Amanda's smile dropped as I let out a small, quiet snort before I could stop myself. Amanda's eyes flickered towards the noise I made, her cheeks reddening.

"Now, one of you will be the drowning victim, and one will be our lifesaver!" He explained to us.

Of course, Amanda volunteered as the victim. "I'll be the victim!" She chirped. "All your life," Wednesday replied in her monotone voice.

"Im gonna be an actress when I grow up!" Amanda exclaimed as she tossed her hair.

"That explains a lot," I muttered to myself.

"Brava!" Gary said, his tone trying to be cheery. "Amanda, jump in and start drowning, Wednesday will rescue you." Amanda did what he said and started acting. "Help me! Someone help me!" She called out, splashing in the water. Gary looked at Wednesday, expecting her to save Amanda, but Wednesday had better plans.

"I can't swim." Wednesday deadpan, proudly informing Gary.

Gary blinked at her. "You can't?" Wednesday shook her head. Gary groaned, pinching his eyebrows and looking at me. "You! Can you swim?" He asked.

"No, I don't do rescue." I simply said. "If she drowns, that's nature." I flatly added. He didn't like my answer as I saw his eyes twitch.

And Wednesday just stood there, her eyes on me for a few moments, long enough to make me wonder what she was thinking, maybe deciding where to bury me? Either way, I didn't back down from staring right through her eyes, too.

Chapter Text

The first day of the camp eventually ended, I was tired, knackered from all of the socializing. I just want to go to sleep, but that's not gonna happen anytime soon. I made my way into the girl's cabin, I walked in and saw some of the girls gathering on the middle, flashlight lit. One of them spotted me in the doorway, "Hey! You! c'mere!" She called out to me, and she patted the space beside her expecting me to move towards her but I didn't move, eventually, I ignored her invitation and moved past her to an empty bunk in the corner near Wednesday since i spotted my luggage under it. I sat on the bed as it creek. Hugging the plushie in my lap, i rest my chin on her(gloomy bear) head.

Amanda sitting in the centre like a self-appointed queen bee had almost everyone's attention as she told a "scary story." The girls screamed - except me and Wednesday - out of politeness, not from fear, when Amanda finished her story.

Amanda grinned proudly, believing that she did a great job at story tellings. She pointed the flashlight to Wednesday. "Okay, Wednesday, it's your turn," she ordered.

Wednesday, the unbothered queen that she is declined and called it dumb, which i nodded at that. I wanted to sleep already.

Amanda's face stiffened from the outright rejection. "If you can't -" Wednesday sighs cut off through her words. She propped herself and sitted. Her eyes narrowed in front of Amanda.

For a moment, her eyes landed on me, but with a blink, she shifted.

Wednesday Addams continued amanda's story. "The next night, the ghost came back to the haunted cabin, and he said to the campers..." her voice dropped. "None of you believe in me, so I will have to prove my powers." she stopped to let the silence stretch, enjoying that some girls started fidgeting. "And then the next morning.. all of their nose jobs were gone. And their old noses had grown back. " The cabin exploded into screams and shrieks of terror.

I wanted to laugh, but I didn't, although Wednesday's gaze flickered back to me again, and this time, i catched her.

Of course, Gary popped his head in due to the noise that the girls made. He muttered about "lights out," and soon, everyone in the cabin started drifting off to sleep.

I stayed curled up with my plushie, quiet, letting the background noise fade. From my bunk, i heard Wednesday shifted, i could feel her gaze cutting through the dim cabin

"You didn't scream." she stated, her tone wasn't accusing. it was more like examining a strange cadaver.

"Was I supposed to?" I hugged my plushie tighter. Silence filled the air once again. And then she spoke, "Most people do. Its.. satisfying." I turned my head towards her silhouette. " Guess im not most people then," I replied. For a moment, she just studied me and stared at me.

"And yet, you're not immediately unbearable," she added flatly. I raised my brows at that.

"I aim to be tolerable. it's underrated," I reasoned out. then i heard her shuffle, a faint hum in her throat escaped. I thought i saw her smile. Maybe it was just a trick into the eye. It was dark, after all.

I closed my eyes and let myself fall into the slumber.

Chapter Text

A jagged bolt of lightning tore through the quiet night sky of Camp Chippewa, a loud noise cracked enough to wake Penelope. Wednesday's eyes flew open at the same time, and she sat upright in her bunk.

In the dim light, I saw Wednesday wore an expression that something was terribly wrong is happening.

'She has a great intuition.' If I'm not wrong, this time was when Uncle Fester got engaged to Debbie. Wednesday will find out about it tomorrow morning anyway. I thought to myself. I close my eyes as I return back to my weird dreams.

I was woken up by loud noises. The sun shining brightly, the night had passed already. "Mail Call! Mail Call!" The counsellors exclaimed enough to make a chickens shriek dull in comparison. They gave us our mails, and I tore mine open.

I was surprised I was given one from my parents. Aren't that a surprised? and wouldn't you know it's just a short letter telling me to "make friends" "be normal" etc. etc. You know the usual. I crumpled the letter and toss it beside me.

I sat cross-legged on my bunk, hugging my pink bear to my chest. I quietly watched wednesday read her letter, her eyes were looking at it like it smelled of rotten eggs. Wednesday's expression began to tighten, stiff.

"Oh, no," Wednesday murmured, continuing to read. "No."

"What is it??" Pugsley asked, his voice containing urgency and curiosity. He wondered what was in the letter that made her sister act like that.

Wednesday's voice rose an octave. "This is unspeakable!" She exclaimed. Of course, the counsellors noticed her distress.

"Something wrong, Wednesday?" asked the woman, what was her name again? Ah. Becky. "Wrong!, this is the worst thing that has ever happened in the history of human events!! " Wednesday burst out. I understand her distress, Debbie wasn't really that ideal for Uncle Fester. And don't even begin with her crimes. She's gorgeous but dangerous, but not as dangerous as the Addamses. She stood no chance.

Wednesday turned to Pugsley, "Uncle Fester is getting married!" she explained.

"A wedding? but thats a great news!" The counsellors were smiling now, the man chuckled.

"To whom is he getting married?" Amanda pried in like gossip was her oxygen. She always looked like she wanted to know everything about everyone.

"The nanny." Wednesday flatly said, her voice defeated.

"YUCK! get out of this room!" Now amanda looked like she smelled something bad. "I'd kill myself if my uncle married the help!" Nah, your uncle will probably be killed instead if he was debbie's target.

"Come on, amanda," becky intervened to ease the tension that's rising. "Im sure she's a nice lady."

"yeah right" amanda wasn't pleased about the counsellors. " I think it's disgusting. I think their whole family is like some weird medical experiment." She stood up and spat on the Addamses.

My gaze flickered up. My voice might be calm, but it cuts through the tension. "Better to have a family that's real."

Amanda's head whipped around towards my direction, the counsellors mirroring her. "Excuse me? what's that supposed to mean?" I didn't even blink at her. "You heard me clearly." As i stared at her blond hair. It made me curious: If her parents' hair was brown, why is she blond? hmm.

She ignored me and continued talking, " I think they're like circus people, honestly!" That's when Wednesday's darkened eyes narrowed.

"Circus people are cool, unlike you who speaks ill of others." Amanda's mouth open to retort me but becky, once again intervened.

"Campers!" she gathered attention, clapping her hands. "Time for a group hug! Right away!" And just like that, the campers all huddled on the centre. They drew themselves into a big warm embrace. I move near to wednesday, ignoring them. Gary, the counsellor, shook a teasing finger to us. "Wednesday! Pugsley! Penelope! Will a hug hurt us?" he insisted.

"We don't hug." Wednesday stated, her tone cold. I shook my head at the same time. I hate physical contact with people I'm not close with. It makes me uncomfortable, like my skin is crawling away from underneath.

"I bet they're just shy!" Becky said to her husband, Gary. Oh hell, nah, I'm not shy about not wanting hugs! i detest doing it with strangers. We stook a step back when they stepped closer to us.

"We're not shy!" pugsley protested. Yes, tell them Pugsley! "We're contagious!" he added. I dont know about that part.

And Gary didn't like Pugsley's reasoning, courtesy to the frown etched on his face. He stared at us in silence. The room fell silent, too.

"Y'know, I'm sensing some real friction here," he said slowly. "Something not quite... Chippewa."

He clapped his hands so loudly half the campers covered their ears including mine. "No problem-o! They'll come around! All they need are good friends, good fun, and -" His voice suddenly grew threatening. "- a little time in the Harmony Hut." Here we go. He's punishing us for being a non-huggers.

"The Harmony Hut? What's that?" Pugsley inquired. Becky smiled, her big, gleaming teeth catching the light. "It's a very special place. A place where we go when we need to think about who we are... and who we should be."

My eyes flickered to Wednesday , a faint frown on my lips, Wednesday posture is stiff now.

Chapter Text

At the Harmony Hut.

It was a small wooden hut; the walls were filled with posters of random pictures of babies, cats, and unicorns. Some had inspirational messages on it, and I even saw a poster of Michael Jackson. There were stuffed animals on the couch that I found cute; safe to say that's all that I liked in the hut. The couch was soft tho. I was sitting on a single couch, just on Wednesday's side.

We've been here ever since Gary shoved us inside and locked the door. That was an hour ago, Wednesday, and Pugsley looks like they're prisoners here. Well, I am too, but I don't mind it that much.

Hugging the plushies in her lap. Missing her gloomy bear since the counselors decided to take away her gloomy from her. Oh, she was pissed at that. If she finds her gloomy bear dirty, ruined, or stitches coming undone, she's gonna kill someone.

A grey bunny, a temporary replacement for her gloom. She's starting to grow fond of the bunny, already planning on borrowing it to customize it. I mean, they did take her plushie, so she'll be taking theirs.

"How long do we have to stay here?" Pugsley asked. After all Gary didn't say anything about when he will let us out. Oh, how he looked horrified while staying here. I wonder if they'll find my old bedroom horrifying as well.

"Until we crack," Wednesday grimly replied as she glanced at me. Her eyes not blinking, I'm still not sure how she does that. Hm, one of the Addams Family mysteries, probably.

"And the way things are going-" Wednesday was cut off when Gary shoved the front door open, and a boy stumbled his way inside the hut. It was Joey, if I remembered his name correctly, or not. He was clutching a pocketbook titled A Brief History of Time. The door slammed shut behind him, which made him flinch.

"HAVE FUN!" Gary sang in his usual aggravating voice. The boy looked at the room, and he screamed.

He stopped when his eyes landed on us, his ears tinged red from embarrassment.

His gaze flicked to me, "Penelope.. You're here too," He muttered, still standing in the same spot. "What're you in for?" Wednesday drawled, her voice distant.

"I wouldn't go horseback riding..." he uttered quite enough for us to hear it. THEY HAVE A HORSE IN HERE?? How come I haven't seen one?

"That's all?" Wednesday deadpanned, staring at him, which made him uncomfortable.

"And.. I wouldn't make a birdhouse.." he added. I would want to make one for myself, I don't want to be ordered to make one tho, that'll take all the fun.

"Why not?" I spoke before Wednesday. Joey looked at me and replied, " I just wanted to read." he showed us the book in his hand.

And then Gary reappeared like a damn mushroom, snatching the book out of the boy's hand. "No reading on my time, Four-eyes!" he let out a mocking laugh that irritated my ears before locking us in again.

Silence fell in the hut, it stretched for a few moments before Joey, or was it Joel? I'll call him Jo, cleared his throat and glanced at me, longer this time. "So... have you been here for long?" he quirked, scanning the room with a shudder.

"Long enough.." my voice mild, out of politeness. I didn't really have the energy to socialize today. "I'm breaking out tonight, not just this hut but the Camp." Wednesday declared loudly enough for us to hear.

"I want to come with you" Pugsley replied right away. Jo perked up immediately from that "Me too!" he begged. They all turned to look at me, their eyes seeking to see if I wanted to come too. Jo looked like he needed my approval. I just nodded my head. I leaned back against the couch, letting them plan everything out, as I already knew how this story went, fully knowing that we'll be busted by tattletale Amanda anyway.

When I tried telling them that we'll be busted by Amanda, my mouth acted like it was sewn shut. My lips closed, as if something was forcing me not to speak. I panicked for a moment until realization hit me. This was all too familiar for some reincarnation gimmick, when they can't tell spoilers to the character's future, meaning that I couldn't tell anyone about their future. I tested it out by trying to tell Wednesday about the Hyde situation that will happen in the near future, but as I expected, my mouth wouldn't open. I succumb to defeat, but I know I'll find a way, a loophole for this predicament.

The night came, and the moon was hiding behind the clouds. It was chilly, a bit windy, the stars shimmered faintly, and the lake gleamed softly. The barbed wire that served as the camp's boundary glinted; all four of us were dressed in black. I didn't know where they found it, but knowing the Addamses, they're well-practiced in nighttime adventures such as this. Jo came in prepared; he was holding a massive pair of wire cutters.

He was about to snip the wire open when flashlights glared our way, sirens echoing in the distance and my eyes squinted harshly. "THERE THEY ARE! I SAW THEM SNEAKING OUT!!" Amanda shrieked. Within a second, we were surrounded by the counselors and the rest of the campers. They took off our masks.

Gary's voice boomed sternly, "Children! What do you think you're doing?" Wednesday, without flinching, met his heated glare. "We have to see our family, it's very important," she answered flatly.

Becky didn't like that based on how her hands went to her hips. "More important than summer fun? More important than making friends? More important than sharing?" I hate her voice so much right now. Is she hearing herself? I might not have a family in this life, but families are indeed more important (Depending on the situation, that is. In my past life, my family was supportive, they cherished me without making me feel like I'm being suffocated)

I shifted in my spot; my feet were starting to hurt. "Depends.." I murmured. I saw Jo blink at me.

"And Joel Glicker! I'm surprised at you! And Penelope Blythe! You're parents will be disappointed at you!" Gary proclaimed, as if my 'parents' being disappointed would hurt me, they're not important.

"I have to get out of here, I have allergies," Joel, his correct name, stammered. Becky shook her head mockingly. "You're allergic to sunshine? And archery? And crafts?," she remarked incredulously. Amanda stepped forward to us. She was smirking, "I think they should be punished," She remarked smugly. "PU-NISH! PU-NISH PU-NISH!!" The campers followed Amanda's chanting.

"No, no," Becky intervened. "We're here to inspire," she reluctantly said.

"That's right!" Gary chimed in. "And campers, do you know what kind of inspiration our little ninja friends here need? Do you know what just might turn their sad and potentially wasted little lives right on around?"

"Let me guess, something dreadfully awful," I snidely remarked. My eyebrows twitched. Joel looked as though he were about to be sentenced to his death. "What?" he asked. Becky pulled out her pitchpipe, and Gary pulled out his guitar.

Joel stared at them with horror. They formed circles around us, and they started to sing. It was the worst song I've ever heard. I can't help but cringe, goosebumps all over me. Wednesday mirrored my expression, her eyes wide as she clutched the metal barbed wire behind her. It might just be terrifying for her.

Chapter Text

I didn't expect that the whole ordeal of sneaking out from the camp made me drew closer to Wednesday. Joel loved hearing about life in the Addams Family. For the most part, Wednesday and Pugsley were fascinated by how sickly Joel was, and Penelope's unique... hobbies piqued their interests. After all, Wednesday had never met anyone so likely to be killed on the spot.

Meanwhile, Joel seemed captivated by Penelope, which the latter didn't notice.

I sat on a bench to the right of Wednesday. I was quietly observing them, sketchbook open on my lap, drawing calmly.

"Are you really allergic?" Wednesday's voice was flat as ever, but it did have a hint of curiosity in it.

Joel nodded at her, "To almost everything."

Wednesday considered the possibilities or rather the experiments she'll conduct if he allowed her to test every single one of his weaknesses.

"I can't have dairy, or wear wool, or even drink fluoridated water!" he added, exasperated.

"That sounds exhausting, Jo." Joel perked up from the nickname I gave him. "You live in a bubble every day." My voice is calm, almost teasing, but meant no harm.

Joel nodded at that. "Do you know what happens if my mom uses fabric softener?" Wednesday arched one brow to that.

"Let me guess.... You die?" I proudly stated. You know, knowing the books and the movies do have perks. Joel's eyes widened as if he's surprised I guessed it correctly, like come on, that's a dead giveaway.

"You're very unfortunate, y'know?" i quipped at him, still not looking up. "You could just drop dead, one day." Joel let out a soft, dry laugh at my statement.

Wednesday's attention shifted towards me when I felt her move a little closer to my side.

Unlike Joel, who seemed fragile, Penelope's uncanny energy just drew Wednesday in, and Joel felt the same way. She was the first person he had met at the camp. Even though she looked like she didn't want to socialize, she still interacted with him out of politeness, and he's still grateful for that.

Joel fumbled to his words, asked. "Uhm... so Penelope, what about your family? What are they like?" Wednesday's ear twitched at that question. She couldn't deny that it intrigues her as well, although she'll never admit that, but she's listening.

I didn't look up immediately. My pencil moved over the paper, still sketching a doll with pretty eyes. "My family's complicated.." My voice is distant. "Im mostly in the basement since they don't want to see me, so they're mostly absent.. Wish I could just... dispose them, " she murmured the last part, but Wednesday managed to hear it, and her eyes narrowed, signifying that it piques her interest.

Joel blinked, I bet he's finding words to say. "Penelope" Wednesday whispered my name, and I couldn't help but shiver slightly, of course.

'SHE SAID MY NAME!'

Wednesday leaned closer, and my breath hitch. "What do you.. usually do?" I shrugged at her question, pretending that our close proximity didn't bother me. "I mostly create dolls or customize them, taxidermy is a hobby too, I have lots back home. I have a taxidermy kit in my luggage right now, just in case."

She stared at my drawing. Wednesday saw multiple sketches of dolls with sharp smiles and grotesque anatomy. They looked oddly alive.

Wednesday's eyes narrowed in interest. "You don't pretend to be normal?" she stated, fully knowing well that she wasn't asking.

I met her eyes, and my lips curved upwards. "No? Why should I?" I softly said, I flipped the sketchbook shut."Fitting in isn't my forte anyway." Wednesday considered my statement, her grim eyes fixed on me. I didn't even notice that Joel had already left. For a moment, silence stretched in between us. Finally, she said, "Meet me in the infirmary at midnight. There's something I want to discuss with you."

At midnight, Camp Chippewa's infirmary wasn't used much. Moonlight spilt through the fogged windows. It cast an eerie glow inside. The room looked like a medical classroom.

Wednesday stood at the near entrance of the infirmary, her eyes glued at the human-size skeleton. It made the place more homelike.

"Over here, wens! By the skeleton!" I whispered, Wednesday's eyes twitch at the nickname. I popped in her view like I emerged from the shadows, my plushie tucked under my arm. my other arm was absentmindedly playing with the hands of the skeleton.

Wednesday stepped closer. "I need to ask you something." I titled my head and looked at Wednesday, "This skeleton reminds me of one i had. He was an excellent company." I idly swung one of the skeleton's hands while I rambled.

Wednesday's dark eyes continued to stare. She was just listening. Our eyes met briefly, and then Wednesday asked, "Do you believe in absolute evil?"

I smirked faintly, "Depends on how polite it is while it kills." Her eyes flicked on me, assessing me.

"My Uncle Fester is about to get married." Her tone was sharp. "To a woman in white." I didn't utter anything, I encouraged her to continue in which she did.

"She's my stupid little brother's nanny. But I have to attend the wedding anyway. I'm a flower girl." She took a deep breath and in another beat."You're coming with me, "

My smirk widened, and she didn't ask me. She ordered me to come with her. She, Wednesday Addams! She allowed me to come with her!! That just means that I've grown quite tolerable to her!

"If it's interesting, otherwise, I see no reason to decline." I answered, acting differently from my thoughts. Wednesday's lips twitched.. almost, but her face remained impassive in a blink of an eye. Wednesday got the answer that she needed.

A faint footsteps echoed outside, "Hello? Is someone there?" It was Gary. Penelope forgot about this part. "Quick!" Penelpe acted immediately, not minding that she pulled Wednesday closer to her.

When Gary and Becky switched on the lights, all they saw were two bodies stretched out motionless on tables and covered with sheets.

"Who are they?" Becky asked, pointing.

"Must be the twins," Gary said casually. And with that, he switched off the light again

Chapter Text

Whoever handled Uncle Fester's wedding decorations did a spectacular job! Everything fits the Addamses macabre tastes. The ceremony took place outdoors of the Addamses cemetery, it was the perfect venue for them; I saw some weathered tombstones across the venue, others were crooked and breathed death.. Literally. The night was so chilly that i felt it in my bones courtesy to the heavy fog that looked like it was emitting from the graves. Dead, wilted, and dried flowers were scattered in the venue, and without any question, this was definitely a perfect night for them.

I sat in the middle row, keeping to myself due to Wednesday ordering me not to talk to anyone. Speaking of Wednesday, she was in her flower girl duties, her pale face etched into a scowl. She was definitely gloomier than ever. Instead of flowers, Wednesday was throwing rocks tied with black ribbons. Pugsley was behind her, holding a satin pillow with Thing perched on top of it as the ring-bearer.

Cousin It acted as the Wedding Officiant, I couldn't really understand what he was glooping right now, but I know it's about the wedding.

As Wednesday passed by my row, i saw her glance at me. I gave her an assuring nod and a small smile, letting her know that im comfortable. Her gloom eyes flickered in the dimmed night before she continued her way in front.

The wedding ceremony, before I knew it ended. I wasn't really paying attention to the whole ceremony since I wasn't that interested. Wednesday somehow managed to grab a hold of the thrown bouquet of Debbie. I let out a giggle at her, and she gave me her glare, which didn't stop me from laughing.

The next morning, we were back in Camp Chippewa, and our today's activity was... archery, something that I'd never tried before. Amanda went first smug as ever. She was then followed by Joel, who threw the arrow on the ground, annoyed. I was behind pugsley, and Wednesday was behind me, muttering Uncle Fester's letter in her hand loudly, I've notice that it's a habit of hers.

When it was Pugsley's turn, instead of the target, his arrow hit a passing american bald eagle. It landed with a loud thud. His arrow was pierced through the eagle's chest. My eyes lit up at the now extinct american bald eagle.

"It's an american bald eagle!!" Becky gasped. "Aren't they extinct?" Gary asked. He was shocked. "They are now," Becky was horrified.

I took the opportunity to stepped forward, and I saw pugsley look so pleased to himself. "May i have it?" I smiled at Pugsley. He shrugged and then nodded. The counselors protested at that, so I turned to them, "Were you the one who killed it?" I asked, and that managed to shut them up.

I grabbed a hold of the american bald eagle on my arms, thanking pugsley as I made my way back to the cabin. I heard Gary called out my name, but I didn't look back. They could lock me in the Harmony Hut later, punishment be damn, but for now, I had an American Bald Eagle waiting to be dissect.

Chapter Text

The Camp Chippewa Jamboree had everyone, the campers and the counsellors, busy. According to the returning campers, it wasn't every day that the summer camp would perform a play based on the "First Thanksgiving." And naturally, the lead of the play was given to Amanda Buckman. She was "chosen" to play Sarah Miller. And Wednesday? She was forced to be Pocahontas.

When the counsellors announced it. Wednesday still, replied in an instant. "I won't do it." Turning him down.

Gary blinked at her. "And why not?" In another beat."You're right for the play. The Indians were outcasts, just like you. Plus, you've got braids, and you're a ravenette! Which fits Pocahontas perfectly! I don't want to hear another pip from you." And Wednesday just glared at him, a look that could certainly cut through glass and bones. Gary didn't hear another word until, of course, the dress rehearsal.

The camp was in pure chaos that day. The counsellors: Becky was shoving one camper into a pumpkin-pie suit while Gary was teaching a song called "Happy turkey Day" to some campers, which sounded like assault on my ears.

And me? I firmly refused to play or act, so I was drafted into costume duty. Helping the other campers with their costumes, my patience was running thin.

Amanda Buckman had been staring in front of a mirror admiring herself in her Pilgrim costume ever since I helped her put it on. She stopped and turned when Becky yelled at Wednesday. I knew that Amanda enjoyed seeing Wednesday get in trouble. Btch.

"Young lady! Do you know what time it is?You are late for your fitting!" Her voice was so loud since Wednesday was just right beside me.

"I don't want to be in it." Wednesday calmly stated. And the entire stage fell silent, all eyes looking at Wednesday.

Gary marched towards us, and his eyes were bulging. "You don't want to help me realize my vision?" he stated.

"I don't do help. Your work is puerile and underdramatized." Without blinking, she added,"You lack structure, character, and the Aristotelian Unities."

I tugged at a loose thread from a costume I was tending. I couldn't help but mutter. "Not gonna lie, she's right, Gary," knowing full well that they all heard me. I didn't really understand what Wednesday said, but I have to add fuel to the fire, don't I?.

"Yeah!" Pugsley, the sweet boy that he is, piped in loyally.

Gary glared at us, his lips tightening into a thin line. "I'm getting tired of this - your attitude problem, Wednesday. Your disrespect, Penelope. Your cohorts, Pugsley and Joel!"

Joel, who was making his way towards us, froze and stopped on his track. He turned to Gary and stuttered. "Me? but I- I didn't, I wasn't even talking!"

Gary folded his arms. His voice was stern. "Exactly. You’ve been moping since day one, and frankly, you don’t clap loud enough when we were singing earlier."

"That's because... I have sensitive hands and ears!" Joel reasoned out, laughter rippled through the other campers, and I saw Amanda smirked.

"You see? You four never even tried to latch onto the Chippewa Spirit. Isn't that a tad bit sad?" She questioned the campers in the latter.

"YES!" the rest of the campers chorused

"Don't we just hate that?" Becky asked again. Now she's the one adding fuel to the fire. Obviously, the campers (except us four) agreed.

"Don't we wish they would just die?" Becky shrieked, like a banshee.

"YESSSSSS!" The campers howled in unison.

'I already did,' I thought dryly but said nothing, I just stood beside Wednesday staring at them.

"No, no, of. course not," Gary intervened. "No, we don't," Becky corrected the campers. "But you know what we're going to do with them? We're going to make an example! We're going to show that anyone, no matter how odd, or pale, or chubby, can still have a darn good time! Whether they like it or not!"

"What are you going to do?" Joel asked, his eyes wide and terrified. Gary leaned closer to us. "We get them... fixed, " he purred.

Half an hour later. We were once again, locked in The Harmony Hut, I've grown quite used to it, I've been in here for a lot of time but this time though, Things were worse for Wednesday and Pugsley.

Gary and Becky had placed in front of us a large television set. Now they were trying to decide which video Wednesday, Pugsley, Joel and Me should watch.

"Now, bambi," holding up a cassette, his voice filled with relish. He was staring at the Addams, watching them freeze at their spot.

Becky waved another one "Lassie come home!" I don't recognize that one. "Or! The little mermaid?" Gary grinned.

I stood up, "I'd rather watch Strawberry Shortcake," I proclaimed. They didn't bat an eye towards me as they sorted out the cassettes that we're gonna watch.

Wednesday's eyes flashed with gloom. "Turn it off." Of course, Gary ignored her. He slid the tape into the VCR, and without any word, he locked the door. Pugsley whimpered, and Joel whispered to himself, "I'll never survive this," and he doesn't have to, nor the Addams.

I stood up, blocking the screen with my body. I dragged the large TV set back slightly out of their line of sight til only I could see it. "I'll watch. You three can stare at the wall, " Pugsley and Joel exhaled, clearly relieved. Wednesday's eyes just stared at me.

"Movie marathons such as this don't bother me," but I know it did for them. Back in my past life, I had to babysit my cousins through worse, and watching cartoons for hours was one of them.

Joel and Pugsley sighed with relief. They both sank back on the couch. I didn't look away from the screen, I just made myself comfy while hugging my gloomy bear to my chest.

Then, I turned slightly towards them. "But when the counsellors come back, you three have to pretend that you watched through all of it. Especially you, Wednesday." My eyes met hers.

"Just nod and act the way they want you to act. Pretend that you've changed. " Wednesday's gaze was cold, unblinking as ever. "Pretending is not change, Penelope." she stated.

"I know," I agreed, my tone flat. "But it’ll get us out of here," I smirked at her.

Chapter Text

Hours later, I heard the door being unlocked with a click. The counselors entered and saw us sat exactly where we had been when they left. Motionless, hollow eyes 'as though the Eight hours of sweetness and light videos had turned us into zombies' is probably what Gary and Becky's thinking.

I made sure that the TV was back in its original position to avoid any suspicion. They had planned this throughout the whole time, and I was proud of that just because, so what if something, a force isn't allowing me to speak of the future- directly, but loopholes? those i can twist, and I did. I just have to deliver my message in a way that doesn't deliberately say their future, literally.

Gary beamed at us, probably misreading the silence that stretched inside the hut. "Goodevening children" He said, theatrically. "Is there anything you'd like to say?" he added.

Wednesday turned her head towards their direction slowly, her expression was blank and her voice flat. "Yes, I'm not perky, but I want to be."

Gary's eyes narrowed. "You do?" Becky asked.

"I do," Wednesday said, her tone hollow. "I want to... smile and sing and dance... and be Pocahontas." She explained, just like how we rehearsed.

Both of the counsellors gasped with their hands on their chest. "That's wonderful to hear, darling!"

Joel adjusted his glasses. He was tumbling out the words too awkwardly. "Y-yeah! Me too! I want to latch onto the Chippewa Spirit.." He was doing a.. good job trying to look earnest. I give him kudos for that.

"Excellent Joel! that's the spirit!" Gary nodded, looking pleased.

Pugsley scratched his head, "I want to play the turkey." his voice deadpan, They both blinked at that. "That's.. cool, pugsley. " Becky smiled.

And then it was my turn, " I'll be more.. respectful. I want to be friends and giggle with everyone. " My voice soft as i cast my eyes down to the floor.

"That's perfect, Penelope!" Becky and Gary exchanged looks of triumph. Proud that they "managed" to "change us". Unknowingly that four of us exchanged glances, our eyes flickered. Operation Get out of here was a success!

Finally, it was time for the play. The parents were invited. They were all packed shoulder to shoulder on the wooden benches; sweat, perfume, and the scent of pine were mingling with the air.

From the stage, the curtain swayed with the wind, and Gary, wearing a pilgrim hat in a slightly ridiculous angle, was beaming with happiness while Becky, who wore a feathered headvibrating with pride.

"Ladies and gentlemen! Welcome to this year's celebration of American history! The very first Thanksgiving!" Gary announced, his voice cracking with enthusiasm and joy.

"Thank you all for coming here! except for The Addamses who's taking care of their sick child and The Blythes, busy with their work." I raised my brow at the mention. Did they really have to announce that?

"What a shame!" Becky sighed. "Now, as most of you know, every year we present the most important American history events! but this year, we decided to depict the Very First Thanksgiving through a play!" Gary exclaimed. "A day for a terrific turkey dinner and brotherhood, so without further ado! Take it away!!" Becky announced.

The curtains opened, the campers dressed as pumpkins, turkeys, and corns waddled forward, their voices raised to sing Gary's original song.

The parents snap some photos while they sing. Some even dabbed their tears using their napkins. It's not even that emotional, tho. I guess they're just proud of their kids.

Then Amanda Buckman swept onto the stage, her hair styled with gel, cheeks powdered as she gleamed under the lights and attention.

"Remember, these savages are our guests. We must not be surprised at any of their strange customs." She declared, her chin lifted.

"After all," Amanda drawled on, "they have not had our advantages. Advantages such as fine schools. Libraries full of books and shampoo." Amanda continued.

Shampoo was Wednesday's cue to enter. Wednesday strode onstage, Joel trailing awkwardly behind her. "How," said Wednesday solemnly. "I am Pocahontas, a Chippewa maiden." Her voice was flat.

"And I am Running Bear, betrothed to Pocahontas," said Joel, as he fidgeted. "In the play," he murmured quickly.

"We have brought a special gift for this holiday feast," continued Wednesday. And Pugsley walked onstage in a turkey costume.

"I am a turkey," he announced unnecessarily. "Kill me,"

Beneath the stage, hidden from the audience view. I smothered a laugh behind my hand, giggling at how pugsley acted so cutely.

I balanced myself on the edge, my doll tucked against my chest. I watched, well.. more like watching Wednesday act. It was way different from watching on the screen. I was captivated. I blinked when Wednesday's gaze glanced downwards in the direction where I stood.

"What a thoughtful gift," Amanda clasped her hands, delighted. "Why, you are as civilized as we are! Except we wear shoes and have last names. Welcome to our table, our new primitive friends!"

"Thank you, Sarah Miller," Wednesday turned her head and replied. "You are the most beautiful person I have ever seen. Your hair is the color of the sun, your skin is like fresh milk, and everyone loves you" With those lines, Amanda's lips stretched a wide smile, her chest-swelling as if the words that Wednesday uttered were for her.

"But we can not break bread with you." Amanda's demeanour faltered. "What?" blurted Amanda, startled. Wednesday's last line hadn't been in the script. "You.. you can't?" She darted a nervous glance toward the prompter's box. "Becky?" she asked. It wasn't in the script, after all.

But Wednesday kept going. "You have taken the land that is rightfully ours," she told Amanda. "Years from now, my people will be forced to live on reservations. The gods of my tribe have spoken. They have said, "Do not trust the Pilgrims." Especially Sarah Miller." Her gaze bore into Amanda's.

That was Joel's cue to start pounding the drum, off-beat, too loud, but in the silence, it sounded like war. Murmurs of confusion boomed from the audience.

I murmured, low enough for Wednesday to hear, "Shorten the swing on the tomahawk, for precision" I saw Wednesday glanced at me, her lips didn't move but she nodded faintly acknowledging that she heard me.

"And for all these reasons," Wednesday said, "I have decided to scalp you and burn your village to the ground." She declared, her voice calm.

With that Wednesday, Joel and Pugsley began shooting flaming arrows around the stage. In an instant, the stage erupted with screams.

I heard Amanda shrieking as ropes coiled around her arms, binding her to a post. Flames were all over the place. The counsellors wailed, "Stop! You're destroying the play!" Gary screamed.

But it was in vain. Their play was destroyed. Only the fire remained.

Chapter Text

Hours passed in a blur, and Camp Chippewa was still blazing. Pugsley had gone to borrow one of the Camp's vans. I know he had never driven before, but I'm sure he could figure it out with his instincts and Joel had already left, leaving me and Wednesday alone.

At the camp's boundary, smoke filled the air in the distance. Wednesday stood motionless at the edge of the boundary, her braids singed slightly at the ends, but her expression was as flat as ever, as if she didn't orchestrate the chaos

The chaos finally settled, and all of the campers were exhausted. I lingered by the fence, the wire already cut by me. Wednesday stood just beyond it. Her gaze caught mine, and for a moment, it softened. My eyes never failed me, and I saw it soften. My heart thudded as I stepped closer to her, allowing myself to offer her a rare smile.

"We did it" I muttered softly, my voice carrying warmth more than it should have been normally, was evident.

Wednesday didn't move. She stayed rooted in her spot, as though she couldn't bring herself to find the van, something that she wouldn't admit.. yet.

"Penelope" she began, and my ears perked up. "I despise that I find myself...irritated at the fact that our reunion is highly... unlikely" Her tone was calm, yet I caught the faintest hitch beneath her words.

I swallowed the urge to tell her otherwise. I would definitely see her again. It may not be soon but in a few years. And if fate refuses, then I'll just claw my way in the Nevermore Academy.

"Unfortunately, I doubt I'll be able to forget you" I admitted, each word carrying more weight than ever.

"Then I pity you." Her reply was sharp and measured. The corner of my lips lifted slightly. Her affection veiled like an insult was definitely a Wednesday style.

"Oh! Before I forget-" I rummage the canvas crossbody bag on my side, pulling out a creation I've been saving. Wednesday's eyes flickered, composure fracturing ever so slightly when her gaze fell on it.

With an exaggerated bow, I presented it to her. "For Miss Viper"

Wednesday's body froze, I'm not sure whether it's because of the nickname or the object that caught her off guard, but I hoped it was both, though.

Her cold finger brushed with mine when she took it out from my grasp. For a moment, she just stared at it.

"A flower.. made from bones." she murmured , her voice calm. "How morbidly.. inventive" She stared at the flower, almost as if she'd entranced..

"Its from the American Bald Eagle I dissected! It was shot by Pugsley during archery." I rambled nervously under her unwaring stare between the flower and me.

Her grip tightened around the bone flower, her eyes narrowed and sharp as if she was dissecting me.

Wednesday stood still. I gaze my eyes towards her expression. I had thought of making the bone flower the moment I saw the eagle fall on the ground. Hours of being locked up in the harmony hut from skipping archery all felt worth it, seeing Wednesday's reaction to my creation right now.

Before I could think of anything - Wednesday leaned it. Her cold arms wrapped around me briefly, but it was undeniable. My body froze and went rigid, my nerves locked. Wednesday Addams was hugging me!

Her cold embrace sank deeply into my bones. Her touch carved itself on me. When she pulled back, i saw her lips twitch dangerously close to a smile. That was more than enough for me to know that she appreciates it, so yes, it was definitely worth it.

"Acceptable-" she flatly said. And it was more than enough. "- La mia rovina.." I blinked cluelessly at that, but the way she spoke it, her tone carried gravity, making it seem like it meant something. I need to search what it means later.

"You'll vanish after this.." I whispered more to myself than to her. Wednesday's eyes caught mine, "Disappearance is one of the Addams specialty" her tone laced with a hint of pride. With one last look and a near smile, she was gone - as if she had never been here at all.

I stood alone, her cold embrace lingering on my skin like frost. Neither of us said goodbye. The word was too final for me, and I refused to believe in such endings.

"This isn't the end. It's merely an ellipsis." I whispered,my gaze still locked on the emptiness where she had stood. Fate isn't a wall nor a boundary. It's a door, and I'm already reaching out to unlock its handle.

Fate be damned, one way or another i'll make sure that i'll be attending Nevermore Academy.

Chapter Text

WEDNESDAY'S POV

I expected three outcomes when I stepped foot on Camp Chippewa. One, I would be bored to death. Two, I would kill someone due to boredom, and three, I would cause mayhem. But what I had not anticipated was a distraction... an anomaly.

Penelope Blythe. A girl with a morbid toy, doll eyes, and a talent for not being annoying.

Our encounter left a bitter taste in my tongue, something that I usually enjoy. It felt as though everything was staged by the devil with a cruel sense of humor, deciding that I deserve such.. companion to make this purgatory less intolerable.

She used her words like a sharpened claw; she appeared as a voice when a blonde banshee wannabe commented on how I dressed, and I turned towards her, my grave mistake. Her words were not meant as an approval, but she earned mine. My lips twitched barely, and she noticed it. I should've killed her for that, yet I didn't.

She did not squirm beneath my gaze, didn't fidget, didn't shrink; she just stood still, unwavering, and that unsettled something within me.

Our first interaction ended with me agreeing with her on something that I do not want to admit, an uncharacteristic betrayal.

And my idiot brother, Pugsley, gravitated towards her as though he were a moth drawn to a flame. He befriended her, and instead of pushing him away, she treated him as her equal. Few people have ever done that to Pugsley.

She talked about death as if it were normal, something that most people deny and fear. She spoke as if she understood, and I found myself watching her; she didn't falter. At that moment, I realized that she was something else, and that earned my respect.

Most people scream, yet she didn't. Most people were unbearable, yet she wasn't. She just listened, unlike the rest, when I told my own tale. I watched her closely. She didn't squeal or pretend. Instead, she sat in silence, eyes catching mine in the dark, and against my cruel judgement, I found her presence less suffocating than it should have been.

When I learned about Uncle Fester's wedding, my blood boiled. It's as if my perfect gloomy storm turned into a sunny day. When Amanda insulted my family, she silenced the banshee-wannabe. For once, someone defended us. I stared at her longer than necessary. Wondering if she knew more than she lets on.

She refused physical contact, as we did. Stepping back when we were forced to be hugged.

Her name, Penelope, tasted strange in my mouth, and I hate that it mattered.

The harmony hut was tormenting, it's a torture that pretends to be a therapy, and I estimate that it has a 78% chance of driving some of its prisoners into a psychotic... shock. And I already have seven escape plans mapped out. Two of them involve fire.

Penelope sat near my side, hugging a stuffed animal, her bear that she called "Gloomy" had been confiscated, taken away from her grasp. I suspect that it will end in bloodshed, if not. I'll return the favor in their sleep.

Penelope followed my plan, didn't question it, and she simply observed. The escape plan was simple, almost flawless, but it failed. Our punishment? They did something worse than rainbows showing after a stormy day. They sang. I have never, in my entire existence, experienced something so horrifying. For one second, our gaze interlocked with each other, and I knew that Penelope was thinking the same thing.

I did not expect that our failed escape would lead to this.. Joel enjoyed hearing about our family; his fragility fascinated me and Pugsley, while Penelope sat in silence beside me. She piqued my interest in ways I don't particularly enjoy. It's like a bag of worms digging their way into my intestines. Her oddities were morbid.

Joel was clearly fascinated by her. How pathetic.

Joel babbled about his allergies, and I considered the possible experiments I could conduct using him like a lab rat. I measured how many experiments it would take for him to develop resistance, but I suspect he wouldn't survive any, not even the first.

I shifted slightly toward her, leaning closer without intending to. Penelope emanated an uncanny... presence as though the silence belonged to her. Unlike Joel, Penelope wasn't fragile. She's something more.

Joel asked about Penelope's family. I admit that I was intrigued, but I remained silent, appearing disinterested, but I listened. She wished for her parents' deaths. Something that made my eyes narrow with interest.

I called out her name. She stilled, her expression neutral, but I studied the way her breath hitched, how her pencil stopped mid-stroke. She slowly looked up and glanced at me. How curious. Before I could stop myself, I asked something about her. And she answered, pretending that my proximity didn't affect her.

Penelope doesn't pretend to be normal. She's just.. her. She creates dolls and does taxidermy, something that I found peculiar. She does not try fitting in, and I applaud her for that.

When we met in the infirmary, she called me by a nickname. My jaw tightened at that, but I let it pass; after all, corrections are not to be wasted on the stubborn. I did not ask her to go to Uncle Fester's Wedding; I commanded her. And she appeared too pleased with it. I should have dismissed it as obedience, but I allowed it.

At the wedding.. She accompanied me, and I admit that it made the night less suffocating seeing my Uncle Fester marrying that vile woman in white.

The jamboree forced us into the most grotesque play. Penelope resisted in silence; I didn't. Flame was everywhere, as I had planned. The stage descended into children and adults screaming. I saw Penelope illuminated by the fire; she was unbothered, not horrified. I saw a recognition that she did not recoil from chaos; instead, she welcomed it with open arms.

When the damage was done, I remained motionless at the camp's boundary. Victory should have tasted sufficient, yet I did not find it satisfactory. Penelope smiled. I should have dismissed it as a sign of weakness, but my eyes betrayed me. It softened.

And then, I forced the words out. My admission of the thought of not ever seeing her again tasted like sweet poison, something that I did not enjoy. I expected that she would laugh at me, to make it easier for me to hate her, but she didn't. I pity her that she'll succumb to such memories, which are unforgettable to her.

I froze when she withdrew her creation, my composure cracked, like a knife stabbed to my ribs inward. A flower, not of petals, but of bones. Something that she crafted only for me. I must not betray myself, yet I want her to know that she succeeded in catching me unprepared. I could not bring myself to crush it in half; instead, my grip tightened around the flower. My father might be right that possession is instinctive.

She even dared to utter such nickname "Viper" to me. The nickname coiled through me like venom. I did not reject it, I should've snarl at her, and yet it sounds... accurate, not mockery but too... intimate.

Her explanation spilled out too eagerly. I dissected her, piece by piece, and before I could stop myself. I embraced her, an act I loathe, and I let myself succumb to such affection. Her body froze, yes. She should hate this, yet she lingered; she accepted it. I pulled away before the rot spreads even further. My lips twitched to a near smile. I uttered one word to mask the crime I had committed.

La mia rovina, My ruin. The words tasted acidic, and I enjoyed it. I do not regret it, and I despise that I cannot. I loathe weakness, and I loathe attachment, but Penelope was neither. No, she was much more than that. She's my ruin. And I would prefer that she stay as a memory, something that can be forgotten easily, yet I knew deep in my bones that I couldn't; she carved herself into my brain like a parasite, and that knowledge alone is the most revolting thing of all.

Penelope Blythe was supposed to be like everyone else, a disposable pest, but I was wrong; she was worse than any curse. She was a force to be reckoned with. And I am forced to admit that without her, Camp Chippewa would have been unbearable.

Chapter Text

5 years later...

PENELOPE'S POV

The car rolled down the road towards Nevermore Academy, mist and fog curling around the tinted windows as if it were trying to reach inside. I sat still in the backseat, my pink bear 'Gloomy' on my lap while my arms were loosely wrapped around her soft pink fur.

The day I've been waiting for years has finally come. After all these years, I'm finally going to Nevermore Academy. The towering iron gates came into my view. They arched high enough to swallow the car whole. It creaked open with a sound similar to a fork grinding against metal, which made me cringed. Beyond it, the school loomed in all its glory, a gothic mausoleum disguised as a sanctuary for outcasts.

I adjusted the strap of my satchel, its weight tugging at my shoulder. Gloomy moved lazily, now dangling on top of my head like a crown. I've waited for this moment for a very long time, way too long.

The car wheels hit the cobblestones, and the chauffeur that my aunt hired got out to open the door for me and set my luggage down.

It's strange standing here, let alone being here, not due to being nervous or anything but because I've seen these structures way too many times. I watched all of this play out a long time ago. I used to wonder how it would feel to be here if it would feel different. It doesn't.

I made my way inside the entrance hall. Students in their bright purple and black uniforms passed by, some whispered, others stared while some stopped.

I can't blame them for staring. A pink bear with mismatched stitches and bloody red claws wasn't exactly something you see every day. I heard faint gasps when gloomy growls at them. They whispered something about "alive" and "creepy doll," but I didn't bother to stick around. I didn't mind the chatter; after all, I've experienced things far deeper than this. It almost felt shallow.

"Quiet now," I telepathically communicated to gloomy. "Behave." I commanded, and she listened by sitting still in my head. She knew who to trust anyway; it was in her instinct, after all.

'The directions that Principal Weems emailed me are practically useless.' Nevermore was a maze. It was endless. Almost every hallway looked practically the same. Arched ceilings, stained glass windows, and the same wooden floor.

'I think I took a wrong turn,' I said mostly to myself and partly to gloomy, to which she just huffed at.

"Okay.. Either I'm close to Principal Weems' office, or I'm lost." I muttered under my breath, stopping in front of the hallway that I'm convinced I already passed by earlier.

Gloomy's head turned towards the right. "Okay, right it is," I murmured, defeated. I was beginning to be tired.

I stopped walking after a few moments when I noticed a figure up ahead. A tall boy stood in front of a massive wall, a paintbrush in his hand working on an unfinished drawing.

'Oh' it was Xavier Thorpe. Obviously, I knew who he was. He leaned back slightly before spotting me in his peripheral vision at the edge of the hall.

"... Are you lost?" He turned towards me. His tone wasn't mocking, but I noticed he was mildly amused.

"Maybe." I stared at him eye to eye until his gaze moved to gloomy dangling from my head. Her paws tightened around my head. It didn't hurt... much.

Xavier froze. "Is that thing-" I cut him off immediately. "Yes, she's moving." I said flatly as gloomy blink at him.

"Right.." he hesitated, then gestured down the hall on his left using the end of his paintbrush. "You're new, right?" To which I nodded. "Weem's office is that way. Take the left right past a gargoyle statue and then just straight ahead. "

"Thank you" I murmured, I could feel his eyes lingering on me when I walked past him but I kept walking to the direction he told me, debating whether he's telling the right direction or not but I decided to trust him.

Principal Weem's Office

It smelled faintly of old paper, lavender, and something heavy, like authority dressed as perfume. Principal Weems looked up immediately when I entered. Her smile was polished but beautiful, nonetheless, though her eyes stared at me like I'm a puzzle piece. She's gorgeous, not gonna lie.

Larissa Weems had already been informed by Amelie Blythe. There was no need for intimidation here. The girl was unusual.

Gloomy yawned innocently as if she were tired. It's funny how she learned how to mimic human habits even though she's supposed to be a doll.

"Ah, Miss Blythe," Weems greeted me with her smooth, almost velvety voice. "Please, take a seat," She continued, gesturing toward the cushioned chair in front of her desk.

I obeyed silently, dropping myself onto the seat. I took gloomy from my head and put her on my lap. Weems' sharp gaze swept over me from head to toe, but she lingered longer on gloomy.

"I've read your transcripts, and you have such... interesting background. Your aunt indicated you were homeschooled." I nodded once.

"I trust you'll find Nevermore rather... stimulating. " She leaned forward when she said it.

"Maybe," I murmured as I hugged gloomy closer to my chest. Weems studied me for a moment and then offered her signature smile.

She folded her hands elegantly on top of her desk and said, "You must understand, Miss Blythe, that control isn't optional here. It's merely survival." The weight of her words settled between us like a lock clicking shut. For a moment, my memories that were buried deep tried to resurface in my mind, but I forced them down.

Her eyes then flicked to gloomy when I didn't bother replying to her. "Your... creations, " She started. Here we go.

"How long have you had this ability?" I knew that my aunt told Weem's about this already, but I guess she's just making sure?

"Since I was thirteen.. It only works when I forge links to them, though. " I hesitated at the last part, but I managed to blurt it out. My fingers clutched slightly around Gloomy's pink fur, of course gloomy notice, as her paws went over my arms.

"Hmm," I could tell that her tone softened, barely. "Creating... life with your own hands. It's quite fascinating - but dangerous." She sharply stated. My hands tightened around gloomy at her words when I felt Gloomy was about to growl, but she stopped.

"Given your... history, the therapy sessions are mandatory." My ears rang, something sharper twists in my stomach. For a moment, the office tilts and -

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[Flashback]

Blood was all over my body, clutching gloomy - who was covered in blood and dirt - as a source of comfort on a cold basement floor.

With each strike, he uttered with pure rage. "I don't want you to turn out like her!" The whip made my skin break. It burned. I could feel the blood flowing, yet he didn't care.

"I'll cleanse you till your freakishness is gone!" He continued -

[End of Flashback]

───────────────────────────

I bit my tongue hard, forcing the memory down. My lips pressed into a thin line and met Weems eyes. "I don't need them," I replied. Therapy is something I refused to do. Even my aunt failed to make me go to therapy, but I guess she joined forces with Weems right now.

"Everyone thinks that," Weems replied coolly. "Until they do." Silence stretched after that. I knew I didn't have a choice but to comply with her. I guess I'll be sharing the therapist with Wednesday later on.

Weems met my gaze, and her voice dropped. "Control them, Penelope." She said clearly to each syllable she uttered,"Or you'll suffer the consequences." She spoke seriously. And there it was. A trigger was set yet again.

───────────────────────────

[Flashback]

I tried to step closer to her to regain control, but her claws jabbed at me, and this time, it slashed my wrist. I yelped when her claw sunken deep into my skin, piercing it. Pain flooded, and my vision blurred. She definitely hit a nerve. Blood continued oozing from my wrist. My magic wavered, and our connection faltered.

I pleaded to gloomy through my gritted teeth. My body trembled. She wasn't trying to be terrifying. She was just confused. I swallowed the tears, My power had become a weapon... against me.

[End of Flashback]

───────────────────────────

I felt gloomy nudge into my mind, and the memory faded. I shifted in my seat, thanking gloomy telepathically. Memories like that were supposed to be forgotten, but it got rooted too deeply within me. I just sighed internally. I hate it when that happens.

I just nodded to Principal Weems, not trusting myself to speak at the moment when she arched her brows to me when it took me minutes to answer.

"I've specially ordered your uniform, as your aunt requested." She changed the subject, noticing my detachment. She proceeded to hand me a thick bag; I glanced down at it. It was my uniform, the same one as Wednesday. Black and Grey instead of the bright lavender. I need to call my aunt later to tell her how thankful I am.

"I don't do bright lavender, that's all," I murmured politely when I looked up at Weems. The standard uniform hurts my eyes even in the series, so there's no way I was gonna wear it.

Weems arched one of her brows on my words but said nothing to it. She then folded her hands again.

"Now, here at Nevermore, we pride ourselves on developing unique talents in our students. That means requiring active participation in our community." Principal Weems started while smiling, and her tone was firm. I said nothing, keeping my gaze at her, unblinking.

"You are expected to choose any club by the end of this week. You might consider a club that aligns with your interests. Nonetheless, this is mandatory for all students." She finished.

Finally, she leaned back to her seat and gave me her smile. "Welcome to Nevermore, Miss Blythe." I gave her a nod. Her gaze lingered on me for a moment longer and on gloomy before she stood up and gestured toward the door. "Shall we go to your dormitory? Ophelia Hall." She stepped out from behind her desk. I find myself internally ecstatic with the thought that I'll be in Ophelia Hall.

"You'll be rooming with Enid Sinclair. She'll help you get settled and acquainted." I just realized how the series didn't really quite capture Principal Weems' height. She was elegantly tall, as if her presence commands the room to bend.

I followed her behind, making our way to Ophelia Hall. I made sure to remember the path we took, knowing I suck at directions.

Chapter Text

PENELOPE'S POV

Principal Weems led me through the Nevermore's endless corridors, her heels clicking softly against the floor.

I followed her silently, gloomy perched on my head, her soft weight grounding me as students slowed when we passed by them, their hushed whispers careful enough not to be heard by Principal Weems but enough for me to hear.

"Her bear moved,"

"How creepy"

"That's her,"

Gloomy's head twitched at the sound they made but remained quiet. She did glare at them, though.

"Ophelia Hall," Principal Weems said when she stopped before a wooden door. She pushed it open and stepped aside, allowing me to enter first

The dormitory was bright... the same in the series, it's like a rainbow in room formation. Compared to Nevermore's looming architecture, Ophelia Hall looked like sunshine, and rainbows were planted inside the dorm. Pastels, neon, and obnoxiously bright patterns were all over the left side, which is enid's.

And then the ray of sunshine and rainbow caught my eye. Enid's practically bouncing into my view.

"Howdy, roomie!" Enid chirped. She's very energetic, like she had lots of sugar, and now, she's bursting with energy. She must be ecstatic to have a roommate considering Ophelia Hall is too big for only one student. I guess she was lonely.

Enid Sinclair, with her blue and pink streaks in her blonde curls, her nails were painted with glitters, wearing a neon pink cardigan over her uniform. She's practically the embodiment of cotton candy and sunshine.

"... Hi, " I softly smiled. Her grin widened instantly . "Wait - Did your bear just move?! It blinked!" She leaned forward, her eyes squinting at gloomy who were still perched on my head. Gloomy probably chose that exact moment to blink, considering enid squaked. "It DOES, okay.. that's mildly creepy, but like in a... cute way?" I just nodded.

Weems who were still standing in the doorway spoke again. "Enid Sinclair will help you settle in." Enid's smile widened, Principal Weems turned towards her. "Why don't you give Penelope a tour after picking up her schedule in the registrar." She said smoothly.

"Got it!" Enid waved as Weems left, the door shutting with a soft click.

"Soooo... Penelope, right?" she asked before sitting on her pastel bed with a mountain of plushies that I did find cute. I nodded at her, seeing my luggage on the right side of the room.

'Huh'

"Cute name! Can I call you Penny instead?" Enid asks brightly, her eyes gazing towards me. My eyes twitched at that nickname, but that's alright.

"Yeah, I don't mind." I replied to her, and she beamed at me. I saw her eyes studying me for a moment, her gaze dropped to my dress. Draped over my shoulder is a cream coloured poncho tied with a black polkadot ribbon. And layered white lace beneath.

"Okay, but can I just say that your outfit is so adorable! where did you buy it?" I appreciate how she's trying to keep the conversation going, I kind of feel bad for not initiating, but it's just awkward since I've known her even though I haven't met her. I know how her storyline goes... after all, I did like her character.

I tilted my head slightly towards her, my voice soft when I answered her. "Thank you. I made this one. " Enid blinks at that, maybe surprised? I'm not sure.

"You made it? like from scratch?" she inquired, and I nodded. "I make most of my clothes, It's fun." Suddenly gloomy let a tiny growl, she's bored. She wriggles into my arms, wanting to be put down. Enid jumps a little to the sound. I let gloomy drop onto the floor. "I'm guessing this little guy isn't from Build a Bear," she joked, glancing at gloomy who was on the floor.

I glanced down, crouching to stroke gloomy's head, to which she just purred softly. "Yeah, I modified her" That got Enid's attention even more as she leaned closer, her voice appeared fascinated or she's just using this moment to put it on her blog either way, I couldn't care less.

"You modified a pink blinking, moving and growling bear?" I let her ramble. "That's... insanely cool yet creepy at the same time, " she queried. Gloomy tilts her head towards Enid and gives her a slow nod.

Enid froze. "Did she just - Did she understand me?!" She looked at me, searching for confirmation, which she got. "She understands things. She just... doesn't listen unless she wants to." I explained, Enid's jaw dropped ever so lightly, and then a grin etched into her lips.

"Okay! I have about... fifteen questions now! But uh, I'll start with one for now. " She scratched her head, meeting my gaze.

"Do you make all your dolls like this? or is gloomy special?" She eyed the dolls I set on the bed.

I paused for a moment, scooping up gloomy in my arms. Gloomy looked up to locked eye contact with me.

──────────────────────────

A faint flash went through my vision

Gloomy's pink fur, her eyes blinking under the dim lights. Her body damp, covered in thick red liquid, her claws wet dripping with -

──────────────────────────

My fingers scratched gloomy's ear. "Gloomy's different... The other ones are quieter, " I muttered loud enough for Enid to hear as I glanced toward the dolls on my bed.

I can feel Enid's curiosity sparks, but I guess she senses that it's better not to push yet since she let me be.

I let gloomy down. 'Gloomy' She perked up, eyes gleaming at me waiting for my command.

'Check the room, make sure it's safe,' I commanded, and immediately Gloomy waddled to the corners, sniffing lightly, growling softly at nothing.

One by one, my dolls rose into the air as if it was suspended via invisible strings. I let it all float gently on a white shelf cabinet near my bed, tricks that I mastered under the guidance of my aunt.

Other dolls moved out of my luggages like marionette's arranging themselves neatly on the shelves and cabinets. I stopped before I overworked myself. Each trinket was alive, animated by my power, but of course, I have my limitations.

Enid watched me from the beginning, her phone forgotten in her hands. "That was incredible!" she whispered more to herself.

"Okay, how did you do that?" she inquired. I replied simply, my tone soft. "It's practice," then I added, "And control. You must understand what belongs to you and what obeys you, otherwise..." My eyes flicked to Gloomy, who gave a soft playful growl. "... it might not."

─────────────────────

[Flashback]

A scream echoed. It was high, sharp, and filled with terror. Gloomy's shadow filled the room, her claws sinking into something soft.

[End of Flashback]

─────────────────────

The warning was gentle, but Enid catched the subtle edge behind my voice. "Got it, I won't try anything, promise!" she said while nodding.

I let out a soft sigh, allowing myself to relax slightly when gloomy grabbed my legs, signalling it was safe in here... for now.

In Nevermore, a school full of outcasts, I knew one thing clearly. I'm just like anyone here, an outcast, and most of all, I'm just myself.

───────────────────────────

After grabbing my schedule in the registrar office, Enid dragged me out for her tour. Which is a good thing considering I'm terrible at directions.

The halls outside the Ophelia Hall were loud but perfectly boring. Whispers and occasional murmurs travelled along the way.

I kept my gaze forward, halfly listening to Enid talk, partly daydreaming. Gloomy was perched quietly at my shoulder. Her ears twitching, she was alert.

Enid bounced beside me, grinning while she rambled on about Nevermore. I tuned out most of it, I already know most of the things she had said anyway.

"You'll love it here! most people here are... well, strange but nice! mostly..." Her eyes are bright and chaotic. I nodded my head slightly, a minimal acknowledgement to her comment.

By the time we reached the quad after she introduced the four main cliques. A familiar voice called out, causing her to stop. "Enid!" she turned, spotting someone and her whole demeanour lit up.

"Ajax!" Enid excused herself to me, to which I nodded, and she jogged over to where Ajax was standing, which was a few feet away from me. I stood silently, staring on to nothing.

───────────────────────────

THIRD POV

"Whats up?" Enid asked enthusiastically. Ajax leaned in closer to Enid. His eyes fixed on her. "You didn't tell me you got a new roommate," He said, leaning in like it was some kind of classified information.

Enid blinked at him. "Oh yeah, that's her." She turned her head towards Penelope's, gesturing in her direction so Ajax could see. His eyes snapped on something else, not on Penelope but on the bear that's on her arms. "Wait... is that a pink bear?" his voice dropping into a whisper, brows furrowing.

"The bear?" Enid tilted her head, confused.

"Yes, that creepy thing with the claws," he perked his chin towards the pink bear. "Dude! I've seen that thing before!" He added to which Enid raised a brow. "You've seen her doll before?" Enid was just confused at this moment.

Penelope was silent behind them, Gloomy's eyes glinted to them faintly that went unnoticed by Enid and Ajax.

Ajax nodded, pulling out his phone from his pocket, and started typing on his screen. "Now... Yes! I remember! The Vale Case! The news, the footage, heck the reporters, there was this girl, who looks thirteen to fourteen standing in front of the flashing cameras, holding the exact same doll that your new roommate is with right now! People wouldn't shut up about it for weeks!!" Ajax rambled on while shoving the phone into his pocket.

Enid's ears perked up, obviously curious. "Wait... are you saying -" Before Enid could finish herself, a soft growl rumbled from Gloomy's mouth that made both enid and ajax froze.

Penelope spoke, her voice edged but soft as if relieving a memory she pushed to forget.

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A fragmented memory filled Penelope's mind.

The camera flashed towards her, almost blinding her. Microphones were shoved forward, reporters clashing, shouting questions left to right that she couldn't answer.

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"If you're going to talk about me..." Her eyes shifted lazily from ajax to enid, who turned towards her when gloomy growled. "... at least do it when I'm not standing right here."

Penelope blinked slowly. "Holy crap... you are -" Ajax stopped when he noticed the bear on Penelope's arm glaring menacingly at him. Enid bit her lips, torn between apologizing and asking more questions about Penelope

Ajax muttered apologies to Penelope before grabbing Enid's wrist and pulling her away. Penelope didn't move, her hand resting on gloomy's head, both of them watching Ajax and Enid leave from their eyesight.

Ajax pulled Enid away from Penelope into a corner in the hallway. "Okay, Spill." Enid's voice was urgent and low. "What was that about?? What 'Vale Case?'" Ajax hesitated against Enid's scrutinising gaze.

"Okay, look. I don't know the whole story, alright? When I was what, fourteen? The news went nuts over the Vale case. It was about Penelope's parents." He explained to Enid, his voice faltering with each word.

"Her parents.. were found dead. It was messy, like really messy. " Ajax lowered his voice even further. "Messy? how?" Enid's voice dropped low, her tone soft.

Ajax grimaced at Enid's pry. "They were mauled. Reporters went crazy over it. There was this clip going around, I'm surprised you didn't know" Ajax pulled out his phone and showed Enid his screen, A clip of a girl standing in the middle of the chaotic reporters shoving blinding lights, camera's and questions to the girl that was holding a pink bear, the same exact bear that Penelope's carrying now.

"Vale Heiress Alive, Parents Mauled to Death" Enid read the headline with widening eyes. "The police weren't sure who killed her parents. It was debated online, whether it was a bear or... Penelope." Ajax explained slowly.

"Oh." Enid stiffened for a moment before saying, "So, My roommate's Penelope Vale?" To which Ajax nodded slightly. "Yeah, except, she's using a different name now. Penelope Blythe." Enid wasn't sure how to process the information she got. She struggled to process it but eventually

"So my new roommate is some mysterious heiress with a tragic backstory..." Ajax winced at that. "It's just speculation, alright? It was a long time ago anyway..." Ajax soothed her.

"Oh, I'm going to figure it all out." Enid's curiosity sparked once again, muttering under her breath. Ajax just sighed, knowing how Enid thrives with gossip.

Chapter Text

PENELOPE'S POV

I exhaled softly, stroking gloomy's head while watching Enid and Ajax's figures fade out of my eyesight. 'She's really into gossip, huh? Oh well, I don't doubt that she'll find out eventually,' I internally thought to myself.

Gloomy's eyes blinked, nodding slowly as if she heard my thoughts, which she probably did. We were left standing in the entrance of the Quad, surrounded by fellow outcasts.

For a few moments, I just watched until 'Put. down.' I blinked when Gloomy spoke in my head. My head tilted down at her. 'Please. Legs. numb.' She looked up at me. I just stared at her begging eyes. 'You... don't have nerves, ' I softly nudged her. 'They're... metaphorical.' Gloomy bit back, a soft scoff escaped, loosening my grip to let her flop onto the ground.

I crouched down and said, 'Remember our promise,' to her, while maintaining eye contact. Her head tilts, unblinking 'Won't. Hurt. anyone..' I didn't say anything yet. 'Unless. They. Hurt. You.' Yep, I knew she was gonna say that. I patted her head aggressively before I pulled back and stood up. 'Don't wander too far,' She blinked and nodded.

And then - 'walk,' she said. A muscle in my jaw shifted. 'Fine...' with my agreement, she toddled forward, her movement swift but determined. I'm not sure where she wanted to go, but I just let her explore. Of course, the crowd noticed her. Some even squealed out of fright when she passed by them. Most probably, assuming she's enchanted or something.

I followed her behind, slowing down to match her pace. The weight of the stares coming from other students prickles faintly on my skin, but I keep my face neutral. That was bound to happen anyway.

I didn't realize how far we'd walked until the students' chatter faded and was replaced by the rustling of tree leaves and damp forest air. Gloomy continued to waddle ahead. "Where are you going?" I voiced out, to which she stopped, her head jerking to me. 'Forest.'

"Why?" I questioned. She stood on her spot for a moment before replying, 'Quiet.' I just sighed when she continued waddling towards the forest. My thoughts drifted, memories unravelling into white noise until I noticed gloomy had stopped. My gaze lifted, and that's when I saw it.

I cursed Gloomy in my head, and I hope she noticed that. Tucked into the forest trees was a studio. Xavier Thorpe's Art studio, to be exact. I'm not sure why Gloomy led us here. Maybe it was just a coincidence. The door was ajar, enough for me to see Xavier working in front of a canvas, his back hunched over it.

I was about to leave when he noticed the movement. He turned and looked right at me.

"..."

"Are you lost... again?" Silence stretched between us. I glanced down at Gloomy, who was staring at Xavier. Yeah, I am lost... again.

"Are you following me?" His tone was serious. I'm not sure if he's joking or not, but I answered anyway. "No" My voice was flat.

Xavier dropped his paintbrush against a paint-streaked jar, stepping away from the canvas to move closer to me. "Right, makes perfect sense," he murmured.

I softly sighed. "I was following her." I gestured down to Gloomy, and Xavier followed my gaze. He blinked down at the pink bear who was near my shoes. Gloomy looked up at him and growled lowly. There's a pause.

"..."

"Your bear growled at me," He voiced out the obvious while pointing to Gloomy like she personally offended him.

"She does," I flatly replied, crouching down to scoop gloomy up. He just blinked, "Did you.. Make her?" he inquired. Xavier was confused whether Gloomy was a baby bear dyed pink and customized, or it's a stuffed bear who's enchanted.

"I modified her." He hesitated, expecting more explanation from me, but I didn't offer any.

Noticing that I wouldn't explain more, he studied me now instead of Gloomy. "You're Penelope, right? The new student?" I did not expect him to know my name, based on my memory. I didn't introduce myself to him earlier. "Yeah, that's me." Nonetheless, I still replied. Guess words really do travel fast, especially at school.

"Right, I'm Xavier." His tone softened when he introduced himself, not like I didn't know his name. He was a pitiful character, in my opinion, kind of annoying, but tolerable.

"Didn't think Principal Weems let new students wander this far off campus," He sarcastically commented, but there's no malice in it.

"She didn't," I sighed, shifting gloomy in my arms. Xavier's mouth twitches into a small grin. "Right, weird girl," He said, amusedly. My brow arches ever so lightly with the nickname.

"Wanna come on in?" Now my brow raised high with his question. He gestured to me inside his art studio. "You can look around," He muttered when he noticed I was staring inside his art studio.

"Just... be careful with the canvases," opened the door wider, letting me step forward carefully, the floor creaking lightly against my shoes.

My gaze wandered around inside. It looked the same as the one shown in the series, dim lighting, and the air smelled like charcoal and a mix of... turpentine? I wasn't sure.

Almost every space inside was littered with Xavier's canvases. The desk is filled with sketches and numerous papers.

The floor was also littered with crumpled papers. He followed my gaze and scratched his head. "Uhm, yeah, it's a mess right now." I just nodded, and I understood him. Whenever I draw, crumpled papers and pencils are scattered on my desks. It's really messy, especially during art blocks.

His art looks eerily alive. Guess that's just his powers. It was fascinating to see it in real life instead of on the screen. And then my gaze settled on a painting, the one he was working on earlier. The canvas was filled with swirling blues and blacks. It looks like an unfinished art.

"You like that one?" He questioned, leaning against the chair he sat on. "It feels heavy, for some reason," I voiced out. It did. Maybe it's his powers. Maybe it's not. Can't properly explain it.

He paused, his brows lifting at me. "Heavy, huh? Not dark or depressing? Just Heavy?" He stood up and walked closer towards me. I just nodded at him. It does evoke something heavy.

"It's unfinished." I tilted my head, studying the strokes he did on the canvas. "Huh, you can tell?" He scratched his neck. He eyed me while I just stared at his painting.

I pointed at one side of his painting. "Your shadows are heavy here, but the light isn't there yet," I offered the things I noticed, not to criticize him or anything. "It feels like you stopped deciding where the light falls and how it contrasts with each other." There was a beat of silence between us before he softly laughed, not mockingly but rather surprised.

"You actually noticed that, huh?" He chuckled to himself. I just looked at him weirdly. What was funny? Gloomy shifted in my arms as if sensing my unanswered question in my mind.

"Yeah, it's unfinished, I'm not sure what belongs in the centre yet." He admitted, as if amused.

My eyes lingered on the centre of the canvas, and then it hit me. It took me a while to realize that this was the mural he was working on when Enid was showing Wednesday when they arrived in the quad during the tour!. Guess he was practising on a canvas before painting a mural.

"A raven," I murmured to myself. Xavier tilts his head at the sound, furrowing his brows lightly. "What?" I was relieved to find that he didn't hear me. "Nothing," I said quickly, hugging Gloomy closer.

He eyed me for a moment, and then he let it go. Shaking his head slightly, "So... Do you paint as well? considering you seem to know a lot about art." Gesturing to the canvas in front of me.

I stared at him and said, "I draw," to which he blinked once, expecting yet again for me to elaborate, but I didn't so... silence followed.

Xavier picked up his smaller brush from the paint-streaked jar and twirled it between his fingers. "Hmm, you should bring your sketches sometime... if you have one. We can compare or something," he rambled. Eyes looking at me, watching my expression.

I blinked once, unsure if he was serious or not. "You... want to see mine?" I clarified, and he shrugged, avoiding my eyes. "Only if you want to show them. No pressure." His tone was casual, but I could feel the hint of uncertainty in him and a spark of curiosity he can't quite hide.

For a moment, neither of us speaks. I glanced down at Gloomy, and her eyes caught mine. "... sure," I say at last, my voice soft. He perked up from that and offered a small smile at me. "Great!" He said.

Then I remembered, I shouldn't be here. I shift gloomy to my head. "I should go... Can you tell me where Ophelia Hall is?" I murmured, looking up at him. He was, after all, taller than I.

Xavier nodded, "Ophelia Hall's that way, straight ahead, then turn to your left, take the stairs, and turn right." He gestured using the end of his paintbrush. I thanked him and turned to leave, but just as I reached the door. He called out my name.

"Penelope," I paused, glancing back at him. His expression was neutral, difficult for me to read. "Next time... maybe don't let your bear growl at people. It's kind of unnerving." Me and gloomy stared at him, and at the same time, we blinked once. Gloomy let out a huff of breath, as if she was offended by him. I guess they're even now.

"I didn't command her. She just doesn't like strangers." I replied, my tone sharp yet soft.

A quiet huff of amusement escapes him. He grinned at me "Guess I'll have to earn her trust then" I just nodded, not bothering to reply and slipped out of his dim art studio, making sure that I closed his door softly.

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XAVIER'S POV

When Penelope closed the door, the smell of her perfume settled around my studio. She moves like every step she takes is deliberate. Maybe because she's new and in an unfamiliar place, which I get her.

I watched her go, her pink bear perched on her head like a crown. It's an odd sight. When I saw her earlier at the hall, she appeared like a bird learning how to fly for some odd reason, which made me help her.

She looked vaguely familiar... Well, her bear does. I pulled out my phone, fingers tapping instinctively and typing her name into the search bar. Nothing comes up, no selfies, no tagged photos, no social media, so basically a graveyard.

And then I realize. Her pink bear. I typed it out, and there it was. Headlines everywhere, a young girl standing stiffly while holding a pink bear, the same one that growled at me earlier.

I remembered painting her and the pink bear once after seeing it on the TV when I was younger. It struck me like a lightning bolt, For some reason, I was entrance with her and her stuffed animal, and I immediately started painting her.

Her hair had been shortened back then, face rounder, her expression empty and distant. She's older now. Different, but there's no mistake that it's her.

"That explains it" I mutter to myself, tossing my phone onto the table. No wonder she looked familiar the first time I saw her earlier.

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THIRD POV

That night, Xavier sat in his dorm, flipping through his drawer, searching for something, and then finally, he found it.

An old worn canvas hidden beneath a stack of papers. A blurred painting due to time, but the girl in the canvas was unmistakable. Same glassy eyed pink bear and the same blank stare.

It was a thirteen years old Penelope Vale... or Penelope Blythe.

Elsewhere, on the opposite side of the university. Ophelia Hall's was yet to turn off their lights. Enid sat cross-legged on her bed, trying not to stare at Penelope, to which she failed, while penelope was sketching on her desk. Beside her sketchbook was a flower, Lily of the valley to be exact, a flower that Penelope begrudgingly took from Miss Thornhill's open hands.

Penelope didn't like Miss Thornhill with all the right reasons, but she didn't directly express her dislike to her, that would gain Miss Thornhill's suspicion, and Penelope did not want that. Considering she was literally grooming a Hyde.

"You know, penny..." Enid began casually, the faint sound of pencil against paper echoed in the room. "Nevermore has its fair share of weirdos, but earlier... Ajax said you're quite... infamous?" Enid voiced out, her voice unsure. Watching Penelope across the room, testing the waters since her curiosity has been gnawing at her.

Penelope sighed. She expected to be questioned anyway, and it's better to get it over with, sooner than later, she guessed.

Penelope didn't look at her, but her pencil stopped. "People exaggerate." she said, loud enough for Enid to hear.

"So... It's not true?" Enid hesitated. "Which part?" Penelope questioned, her voice sharp and firm.

Biting her lips, Enid hesitated once more, but she finally had the strength to say it "The Vale thing..." Enid winced when Penelope shut her sketchbook closed and met her eyes. Enid wasn't sure if Penelope was mad or irritated. Her expression was unreadable. "Thats not my name anymore" Penelope didn't deny nor agree to Enid.

Enid opened her mouth to say something but stopped and then nodded "Okay..." Enid seemed to let it go for now.

For an hour, Enid didn't bring it up again, but Penelope caught her sneaking glances at her and Gloomy when Enid thought Penelope wasn't looking.

Enid broke the silence (except for the faint lofi music in Penelope's side) "Please don't hate me" she said suddenly, turning the screen of her computer toward Penelope. Enid was on it since an hour ago, and Penelope didn't bother looking what Enid was up to, but now she knows.

"But... I might've found your name on the internet and... There's news, Penelope! Like whole threads and forums about you!" Enid stated, Penelope glanced at Enid's screen, showing pictures and clips of new's, headlines, and videos.

'I forgot about that.' Penelope thought. Her aunt hated that the video of Penelope spread online when it was supposed to be private. It was a clip of Penelope when she was thirteen, during the funeral of her parents. Penelope's aunt tried stopping it from spreading, but technology was too advanced, and it spread rapidly online. Because of that, gadgets such as phones and even TVs were banned in their home. It was tough for Penelope, considering she was chronically online in her past life, but she had gotten quite used to it by now.

Gloomy blinked, waking up from her slumber due to the noise. Her head turned towards Enid, and her plastic eyes glared softly at the girl across the room, which Enid didn't notice. 'Loud' Gloomy nudged telepathically to Penelope. 'Yeah' She replied back.

"Didn't think people would still remember that..." Penelope eyed Enid's screen warily. After that, Enid stopped interrogating Penelope when she noticed the girl wouldn't budge under her multiple questions.

Enid resulted in chatting aimlessly at Penelope about Nevermore drama, which Penelope tuned out most of. She did find it amusing that Enid chatted about which student might secretly dating a vampire, as if her friend yoko wasn't one.

Penelope lay on her back, staring at nothing when Enid managed to finally fall asleep. Gloomy was curled against Penelope's side.

'I'd been waiting for this place... For her' Penelope thought. She was waiting for the story to begin, but Wednesday wasn't here yet. Not yet, so she'll enjoy the 'peace' before it's gone.

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[Flashback]

Penelope's POV

I was small again, my parents shouting loudly about me. Everything smelled like blood as air clutched gloomy in my arms.

And then she was taken away from me, I couldn't fight back, and then a pink shadow twisted into a monster. My ears rang with the sound of breaking bones, furniture being thrown, and screams of terror.

And then blood swallowed everything.

[End of Flashback]

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I jolted awake, breath caught in my throat as I felt my heart beating rapidly. I looked around, I was in my bed, in Ophelia hall. Enid wasn't in her bed anymore.

It was morning now. Gloomy sat perfectly still beside me, eyes glinting as she watched me. She waddled to me and opened her arms. I immediately scooped her up and hugged her.

'okay?' She telepathically whispered. She's warm in my arms. 'I'm okay, just a bad dream,' I replied, pulling her closer to me.

Chapter Text

PENELOPE'S POV

Do you know what's the worst thing about reincarnating as a teenager? Having to attend classes again. I HATE studying. That was the sole reason why I stopped in my past life, and now I have to do it all over again- what a cruel joke. I mean, yeah, I don't have to take it seriously since my future doesn't depend on my GPA anymore, but still, I don't like having low scores; it's just annoying.

Gloomy sat perched on my desk, her eyes staring blankly at me while I glared at my textbooks. "Don't look at me like that," I whispered to her. Gloomy knows about me reincarnating, since she can... most of the time, read my thoughts. 'Do. It' gloomy replied. I groaned internally, "I didn't choose this, okay." I slammed my head gently into the textbook, my voice murmured.

The lessons at Nevermore are almost the same as the ones I studied back then. I'm not sure if it's a blessing or a curse, really. The perks of reincarnating? I already know a bunch of stuff already, the downside? Well... some of the subjects I'm taking right now are not common. Take fencing as an example. My aunt wanted to teach me fencing, but I refused. Looking back at it, I should've let her teach me fencing... Cuz who knew that swinging a sabre around would be that exhausting? It took me... weeks before I got used to it, not tripping over my own feet or stabbing myself. Now... let's just say I'm mediocre at best, and I take that as progress.

"En garde!" Couch Vlad's voice boomed across the fencing room. From the corner of my eye, I saw Enid grinning, bouncing on her feet as she headed towards me. Guess she's my partner for today.

"Prepare to taste defeat, Penny!" she started. I just sighed softly, gripping the sabre tightly.

"Let's get this over with," I replied. I'm pretty sure I've been tasting defeat ever since day one.

Obviously, I lost. Again. Enid cheered, her smile wide when she took off her headgear.

Later, I collapsed onto a nearby bench outside the building, pulling Gloomy out of my bag and plopping her onto my lap like a cat. 'Tell the truth, I look like someone who just got stabbed multiple times, don't I?' I questioned her. Gloomy looked at me dead in the eye, and she nodded slowly. 'Yes,' and I groaned quietly, ruffling her fur out of aggression.

Enid approached us, plopping down beside me, and offered me a water bottle, which I thanked her for.

"You know," Enid started, I turn my head towards her, "For someone who looks like she hates fencing, you're getting good at it. ' She complimented me, and I was almost slightly taken aback. "It's called adapting and surviving," I deadpanned, taking a sip of the water bottle she gave.

Enid brightly laughed, and somehow, it eased my nerves. Sitting next to her didn't make me feel so out of place.

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I met Eugene days later. I spotted him crouching low to the ground near the courtyard. At first, I thought he was talking to himself, but then I saw the jar in his hands, Bee's buzzing faintly.

Oh, right. Bee's, of course. That cutie patootie did love his bees like it's his children.

I approach him with only one purpose, mostly. I crept closer to him silently, as always, until my shadow loomed over him.

Eugene got startled, clutching his jar like I was gonna steal it.

"Uh... hi?" He squeaked when he turned towards me. "Can I help you - uh- person who sneaks up on people?" He adjusted his glasses.

I tilted my head. "You... keep bees, right?" I eyed his jar, which he clutched closely to him. "Yeah... why?" he cautiously said, eyes narrowing at me.

For a second, I just stared, "Do you... Ever keep their corpses too?" Eugene stiffened at my question. He blinked at me once... then twice. Finally, he spoke, stammering, "Corpses?? W-why would I wait, hold on, are you gonna kill my bees!?!" He panicked, and I just frowned slightly, confused.

"No. I only work with dead ones. I do taxidermy." I explained. That was my only purpose why I approached him, not gonna lie, I needed insects and bugs to work on, and Eugene is exactly the right source for that.

"Uh- you... What, now?" His jaw dropped ever so lightly. "I preserve dead insects and bugs." For a moment, he just stared at me, maybe with fascination or horror? I wasn't sure. Did I break him?

Then, unexpectedly, his face lit up. "You can actually preserve them? Like, keep them forever?! wow... thats... That's awesome!" I blinked, tilting my head. I'm unsure if that was genuine or sarcasm. Is Eugene capable of being sarcastic? I wasn't sure either. But his grin looked so genuine, wide, and eager. Oh my gosh, what a sweetheart.

"Oh! I'm Eugene, and it's actually my first time being approached by a girl!" He offered his hand, and I took it out of courtesy. "I'm a keeper of the Nevermore Beehives, and I'm the president of the Hummers Club, the largest and only beekeeping club in Nevermore!" He beamed at me, and I shook his hand. "I'm Penelope... a nevermore student." Eugene brightened once more. "Cool! Wanna come see the beehive? I can... uh- give you the bees that passed away naturally!" My lips twitched upward, slightly, my eyes bright, "Absolutely!"

After that, I was recruited as the second member of the Hummers Club.

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Then there's Xavier. I didn't have much thought of being close to him, but we somehow clicked and became somewhat friends?

It was late afternoon, and my classes were done for that day. I settled down beneath a willow tree. Sketchbook balanced on my knees while gloomy's propped on my head like a crown, her usual and favourite spot to lay on.

"You know," a voice drawled, "you always choose the most visible spots even though you seem like someone who hates attention." I looked up to see Xavier. I deadpanned at him. He leaned against the trunk of the tree with a rolled canvas in his hand, and the other one was shoved in his pocket.

"I wasn't trying to," I said simply. "Sure," He muttered before he lowered and sat beside me. He was close but not too close, so I scooted slightly away.

"So... what are you working on?" He inquired, eyeing my sketchbook. "Nothing," I replied smoothly, closing the sketchbook. "Secretive, huh?" He teased.

"It's ugly," I pulled the sketchbook to my chest. Xavier glanced at Gloomy, who was staring at him before he even noticed. "Does your bear agree?" He asked. "Gloomy pledged herself to me." And he chuckled softly. He's clearly amused. "Bet it's not ugly." I didn't answer, so he just sighed.

For a while, silence stretched between us, except for the distant chatter of the students. "Wanna see something?" he asked and unrolled the canvas in front of us.

He didn't need to ask me since He had already unrolled it, showing me his living drawings. A butterfly peeled itself off the canvas and fluttered towards gloomy who tried to claw them. Seeing it in person instead of watching it on the screen is stranger than I expected, but it was cool. Wish I could do that.

"Your art always feels heavy," I admitted, watching the butterflies dodge Gloomy's claws. He paused, "I guess... I draw until it feels right." I glanced at him, "I guess so," and I saw a faint smile etched across his lips.

Later on, He invited me to his art studio. The air smelled the same; it smelled of paint and charcoal.

Xavier turned an easel towards me, and my breath caught when my eyes landed on the canvas. "What..." I murmured, staring at it for a long moment. "I painted it," He said simply. It was a painting of me... a younger me while I was holding Gloomy in my arms. I remember this one. It was the video of me during the funeral that surfaced online.

"Why?" I questioned, glancing at him. I saw him hesitate to answer until "When I saw you on TV, it stuck with me... so I painted it." He gestured at the canvas.

I was unsure what to say, but finally, I whispered. "No one had ever drawn me before... I was always the artist, never the muse... Thank you, Xavier." I offered him my gratitude. Xavier smiled faintly. "Guess I'm the first then," I nodded. He looked pleased with himself. He didn't say anything after. But when I left the studio, I felt his gaze following me.

Xavier thought to himself that something between him and Penelope had shifted.

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One night, Enid walked into our room to find me sitting cross-legged on my bed, headphones half-off and gloomy perched in my lap while my laptop screen was glowing faintly in the dark.

"Okay..." Enid said, flopping onto her own bed across the room, I bet she was in Yoko's room earlier, considering it's late now. "Why are you watching something called... "How to Disappear Without a Trace" at one in the morning? Should I be concerned?" I looked slowly at her to find out she was staring with concern. "It's enjoyable..." Then there was a beat of silence. And Enid blinked, then burst into laughter. Gloomy fell sideways on my lap, face flopping on the mattress due to the sound that Enid made. Did I mention gloomy has hypersensitive ears?

"Enjoyable?! Ohmygosh, you find that enjoyable?! You're actually serious!" I just... stared at her, I knew her tone wasn't laced with malice but rather amusement.

Enid's expression right now was just funny.. Then, so quiet it was almost missed, I let out a tiny, soft laugh. The sound escaped from my mouth, and Enid froze.

"Did you just laugh?" My lips twitched faintly... "Maybe," Enid gasped dramatically, grabbing her phone, "This is historic! Im telling yoko! She needs to know it!!"

"Don't," I warned her, but she chose to ignore it, typing furiously into her phone.

From that night on, Enid started dragging me into social things, such as sitting with her and Yoko at lunch, nail-painting nights in our dorm, where I let her paint gloomy claws pink, and gossip sessions that I mostly observed rather than joined in.

Enid didn't mind that I rarely said much, but she talked enough for both of us.

On a quiet evening, Enid returned to our dorm, she stilled when she found a folded bundle of cloth sitting neatly at the end of her bed. It was a brightly colored hand-made sweater, a perfect fit for Enid's Vibe.

Enid blinked and looked over at me, which I was pretending to be very interested in making a miniature coffin.

"Penny... Did you make this?" holding the sweater up while she asked. I nodded without looking up. "Yeah, you get cold easily," I murmured. I actually made that explanation up. I just love to give people who are close to me gifts at random moments.

I felt Enid's gaze on me for quite a moment, then she slipped the sweater over her head.

It was warm, slightly oversized, and perfect, Enid thought to herself.

"You know," Enid softly started while grinning, " for someone who observes more than talks, plus an infamous past, you're really thoughtful and adorable." She beamed at me.

My hands paused, and I let out a tiniest hint of a smile on my face. Enid had stopped asking about my past, and she has not posted a blog about me ever since we started being close, and I'm really grateful for that.

On one random weekend, Enid decided that we had to go to Weathervane, a shop that I refused to go to whenever I went to Jericho for therapy sessions. Correction, though, Enid dragged me to Weathervane when I told her I'll be going to Uriah's Heap.

"C'mon, Penny, pleaseeeeeeeee!" Enid dragged out the last syllables. "They have the cutest frappes, trust me! You can't just not go," She said while giving me her pouty face.

"It's also the only cafe in town that looks decent enough!" Enid reasoned out, "Do you know how rare that is around here? Also, I heard they have macarons! Pastel ones! I need to have them!" Enid is practically bouncing in place, probably imagining the macarons and frappes. I groaned internally; apparently, resisting Enid Sinclair was futile. I didn't tell her that I don't have a sweet tooth, though, but I have no choice but to allow her to drag me to Weathervane.

The weathervane came into view, the bell above the door chimed in when we entered, and the rich smell of coffee assaulted our nostrils immediately. Behind the counter stood Tyler Galpin with his punchable face. He glanced up, eyes flicking briefly between me and Enid. "Hey, welcome to Weathervane. What can I get for you two?"

His eyes were assessing us, good thing Enid and I weren't wearing our Uniform since you know, it brings unnecessary attention among normies, which is also why I didn't bring Gloomy with me today.

"Just here for the macarons and frappes." Enid didn't bother looking at him; she muttered while eyeing the display case where the macarons were. Tyler blinked but didn't comment. He went back to wiping down the counter. Meanwhile, I just observe carefully. My gaze lingered on Tyler a little longer than necessary. I really hated Tyler and for all the right reasons.

A hyde, a gollum wannabe. That's the nickname I made for him in my journal, and it suits him perfectly. Before I arrived at Nevermore, I'd written the timeline of events of the series so I wouldn't forget about it, but as you know, I couldn't write the spoilers slash future down directly. Trust me, I've been trying for years, but unfortunately, I couldn't. It sucks that I can't say or write anything about the future. It's like an invisible wall is in my head whenever I try to write it.

Every time I try to write the events word for word, my hand freezes, my thoughts scatter, and the words won't come out. Obviously, I improvised. Instead of writing everything directly, I started using codes, nicknames, aliases, vague phrases, and memory cues that only I would understand (in this world that is). In that way, I won't forget things easily.

Anyway, back to Weathervane, I ordered a black coffee because I needed to stay awake for fencing practice later, and two of each flavor of macarons that Enid is currently choosing which one to buy.

Tyler raised an eyebrow, probably wondering why someone my age was voluntarily drinking black coffee. He glanced at me for a bit too long for my liking, hesitating before punching in the order. "Kind of intense for a girl like you, don't you think?" He said, as if he was testing the water. Mine happens to be simmering.

I only hummed, but internally, I arched my brow at his unneeded comment. I went into a random booth, and Tyler placed our order. Enid triumphantly thanked me for the macarons, and she immediately started arranging them for pictures.

"Penny, smile!" She ordered, shoving her camera in front of me. I leaned closer to the macarons and deadpanned, lifting the corners of my mouth slightly. "This is my happy face," and she groaned but snapped photos anyway. Meanwhile, Tyler looked like he wanted to say something, but thankfully, he thought better of it.

Probably for the best, I can't deal with being in close proximity to him. The only reason I even stepped foot in this cafe was due to Enid.

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"Penny, no!" Enid exclaimed, frozen in her bedside, hands on her hips, staring at my outfit like it personally offended her.

Me and Gloomy stared at her. Wondering why she's looking like that to me. "What?" I softly asked, looking down at my oversized hoodie that looked like it's swallowing me whole since it reached under my knees and mismatched socks. It's perfectly comfortable considering it is raining right now.

"You're not wearing that!" she groaned and headed towards my closet to start digging through my clothes. I looked gloomy, and she just shrugged, typical.

Ten minutes later, I was in a pink soft-lolita dress with too many silk ribbons and laces, something that I designed when I was young, because why not, it's comfortable to wear anyway.

Enid snapped about fifty photos on her phone. She's definitely treating me like a Barbie doll, and I'm sure she'll post it on her Instagram later on. Gloomy stared at me and then Enid as if silently judging her life choices.

"You're welcome!" She smugly stated. I tugged at the lace sleeves and muttered, "You're a menace." But she chose to ignore it.

(I kept wearing the dress the entire day)

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Over the next few days, life at Nevermore settled into a... peaceful rhythm aside from the torture of fencing and other subjects. This kind of peace you only notice right before something explodes.

Enid and I had a ritual set up ever since: Late-night gossip in our room and sprawled across her bed with face masks on.

"Soooo, Penny," she said one night, scrolling on her phone, "It's been weeks since you arrived at Nevermore... so hypothetically... if you had to pick a Nevermore boy to crush on, who would it be?" I blinked at her question, hugging Gloomy who was snugly sleeping in my arms.

Ah, right, of course she's going to ask that, a typical topic at every girl's night. I'm surprised she hasn't asked me that sooner.

"No one," I replied. Enid gasped like I'd confessed to arson, sitting abruptly to face me.

"None?! You can't be serious!" She exasperated. "I am, Boys are... not my thing." It's technically true... well, partially that is. I did try in my past life to feel something for guys, but it didn't work out for me; their reasons were mostly about my interests and hobbies.

"Not even Xavier?!" she yelled loudly enough to awaken Gloomy. I grimace at the name. He isn't my type after all.

I hesitated before adding softly, "No, and I've... never been in a relationship, actually." Yes, I died as a virgin. Enid settled back into the pillows, eyes wide and sparkly; she's clearly intrigued.

"Wait, never? like never ever?? No first kiss? No awkward hand holding? No going out on dates?" She rapidly fired questions left and right.

I shook my head, "Nada, Enid, I was homeschooled." Partially true, but she didn't have to know about my past life.

"..." Silence filled the room, her eyes scrutinising me.

"So... what, are you saving yourself for your dream girl or something then?" she teased, grinning ear to ear. I almost choked on my spit, emphasizing almost.

Right... In my past life, my dream girl wasn't just anyone, It was Wednesday Addams. I literally owned and made Wednesday dolls of Wednesday, even as far as buying the novelization and books about the Addams Family. I even had a closet full of Addams Family and Wednesday Addams merchandise. Not that it mattered anymore.

If only Enid knew how apocalyptic my crush was about to become. Of course, I already knew with absolute certainty that my admiration is bound to be unrequited and wouldn't be... y'know, reciprocated.

Wednesday Addams, at least in the original timeline, is a pretty, brilliant, and unreachable person, and as far as I remember, she's probably aroace. So yeah.. my hopeless simping heart is meant to just admire her by default, and I'm fine with that.

I'm just an idiot with a living stuffed link bear and too many feelings, I thought internally while gloomy stared at me knowingly.

I hid my face in my gloomy body and muttered to Enid, "Something like that." Enid grinned. "Oooh~ so you do have a crush!" I just hummed noncommittally, praying that she'd drop it, but knowing Enid, she won't; she was ready to tease me when gloomy waddled forward dramatically, landing in her lap, and Enid closed her mouth shut immediately, knowing that was gloomy's warning.

"... Okay, okay... I won't tease Penny anymore," she laughed, hands up in mock surrender.

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Now, looking back at those weeks at Nevermore... it was oddly normal yet enjoyable. It was too peaceful. For the first time since I got here, I'm starting to feel like I actually belong, like maybe, just maybe, reincarnating into this world won't be as complicated as I thought, but I knew in my gut, because there's one thing I learned, and that is, Peace is never meant to last.

Not here. Not in this world, and especially not in Nevermore. Because somewhere out there, the storm was already brewing. I just know that she was going to be the one who'll drag the peace out, and honestly? I was ready for Wednesday Addams.

Chapter Text

Wednesday's POV

My parents are devouring each other passionately in the seat across from me while a saccharine song, enough to make someone's teeth rot, fills our funeral vehicle, a good thing considering I'm seconds away from expiring due to their nauseating display of devotion, and my cause of death? pure utter revulsion.

A coffin buried six feet under the ground would be a more preferable destination than the one we're currently headed for, Nevermore Academy, a campus I once swore I would never set foot on, over my dead, rotting, maggot-infested, decaying body, yet here we were, en route to a purgatory.

Finally, my parents pulled apart. My mother tilts her head to me, locking her imperious gaze on me like a vulture sighting its next prey.

"Darling, how long do you intend on giving us the cold shoulder?" She asks, her tone laced with velvet menace.

I stared at her, expression blank, letting the silence linger, and instead of answering her, I turned to our family's butler, who was currently in front of the wheel. "Lurch, please remind my parents that I'm no longer speaking to them," I say evenly and precisely.

Lurch let out a low guttural grunt. For once, his response is much more preferable than my parents.

"I promise you, my little viper, you will love Nevermore." My father insisted, his voice warm as he beamed at me.

The nickname landed like a bruise, deep enough to penetrate my bones. Once, someone else used it. The memory flickered, uninvited, crawling into the crevices of my mind like a plague.

"Won't she tish?" he added. My father is incapable of having an opinion that my mother doesn't share; of course, he seeks validation from her every chance he gets. Admirable yet tragic, it only amplified my nausea and sheer disgust.

"Of course, it's the perfect school for her," my mother purrs, her tone velvety as ever.

I despise being told who I am by people who think they know me best. So I snap like a Dionaea muscipula.

"Why? Because it was the perfect school for you?" Her lips only curl at my words, a smirk she weaponized so well. She didn't bother to respond. Silence filled the vehicle.

She smirks in a way that suggests that everything she thinks is objectively correct. She was baiting me, and I knew better than to bite, but I did, something that grated against my frayed nerves.

"I have no interest in following in your footsteps. Becoming captain of the fencing team, Queen of the Dark Prom, President of the Seance Society." Every word I uttered, her smile widens, smugness reeking from her body. Of course, she is; she lives for this.

"I merely meant that finally you will be among peers who understand you," My mother says smoothly, her words stabbing like a plastic dagger; it's almost laughable.

People often misunderstood me, and no one is capable enough to understand me, not even my own mother. Except for a certain someone, her name flickered into my mind, and I crushed the thought far down into the abyss before it fully formed.

"Perhaps you'll even make some friends." Friends, the word drips bitterly. My father seized the opportunity as he perked up, his eyes softening as though he was hijacked in a memory lane.

"Like that charming little girl back in Camp Chippewa!" He says, eyes distant. "What was her name, Cara mia?"

I felt my stomach knot tightly into a messy twist, although I remained expressionless.

"The one with the peculiar dolls," my mother's eyes glinting, "Your first friend," She tilted her head, her gaze sharp as it can be, dissecting every minuscule movement of my face, though I gave no sign.

They don't remember her name, of course, they don't. Parents, like many, are incapable of noticing details about their children when they focus more on themselves.

But I do.

Penelope Blythe.

Her name coiled around my tongue, and it tasted like iron. An old wound that I pretend to be healed.

Friendship, in my experience, is nothing more than a parasitic arrangement, disguised as a connection. It's an exchange of weaknesses, requiring vulnerabilities, and shared secrets. None of which I have nor willing to give.

And yet, Penelope was an anomaly, my ruin. She didn't ask for smiles that I didn't have, didn't demand my secrets that I never offered, she didn't ask me for anything, she was content to sit in silence rather than words.

"She was hardly a friend," I voiced out flatly. "We just simply... co-existed perfectly." I tore my gaze away, but I could feel my mother's eyes gazing at me like a hawk. I know what she sees, and I would not succumb to it.

Penelope and I weren't friends; we weren't anything yet that made her everything.

Except that was 5 years ago. I don't think of her often, at least that was what I've been telling myself. Numerous seasons had died and rotted. Five whole years is a long time for me to waste on such nostalgia. I've never shed a single tear.

Penelope Blythe was a parasite that lingered no matter how I tried to eradicate the memories of her. Some infections don't heal; they stay dormant. She's a ghost that haunts me without ever making a sound.

Penelope was my ruin, and the worst part? I don't know why I still keep the flower she gave me.

But I don't intend to start friendships now, certainly not in Nevermore, something that my parents can claim credit for.

"Nevermore is like no other boarding school; it's a magical place," my father says dreamily while entwining his hand with my mother's, a gesture so nauseatingly tender, I want to gouge my eyes out. "It's where I met your mother... and we fell in love."

If I were capable of rolling my eyes back into my skull, I would. "You guys are making me nauseous, not in a good way," I said flatly, my tone sharp enough to cut steel in pieces.

They didn't flinch, not a flicker of reaction from their faces as expected. "Darling, we aren't the ones who got you expelled." My mother uttered, her voice deliberately settling into the air inside our vehicle.

Her words hang in the air, filling the space inside. I turn my gaze towards the scenery outside, and memories cling inside me.

───────────────────────────

I saw my brother crammed inside a vandalized locker of Nancy Reagan High, an unfunded school full of adolescents. My brother spills out of the locker, his face red and humiliated, an apple jammed in between his mouth as he whimpered.

I touched his arm, and then a jolt. My neck snapped back, A vision. They come on without a warning and feel like electroshock therapy, but without the satisfying afterburn.

Lately, I've been plagued with visions, one in particular had purpose; they showed me my brother's tormentors. After that, vengeance was inevitable. I'm the only person who gets to torture my brother.

───────────────────────────

"That boy's family was going to file attempted murder charges," my mother continued, her tone calm, but I could feel the sharp edges underneath that carefully trained facade.

Unfortunately, Pugsley's tormentors lived. A failure that I intend to correct, someday.

"How would that have looked on your record?" she presses on. "Terrible. Everyone would know I failed to get the job done." I replied flatly. A humiliation of failing to finish a job.

Silence followed, and something else resurfaced in my mind. Some visions feel different, wrong, and unsettling.

───────────────────────────

It started when I was rearranging specimens in my cabinet, years ago, and my fingers brushed against the flower she crafted, preserved inside a sealed glass, hidden away like evidence in a crime scene, untouched but never forgotten, and then the world vanished.

The vision was violent. Shadow curled all around, swallowing everything except her. Penelope, sprawled on the floor like a discarded toy, was thinner, her pale skin stained with black and blue bruises, her lips cracked, breath shallow, infrequent, and fractured as she lay unconscious on the cold floor. There was blood, too much blood seeping from her body, soaking her clothes and the floor. I couldn't move, no matter how I tried.

And then I saw her doll, the one she cradled like it was her child. It twitched violently, as if its seams were splitting, like something wants to escape from the inside. And then it ended.

───────────────────────────

The vision was wrong, jagged, like looking through a blurred, fogged, fractured glass. It only lasted for seconds, yet it lodged deep enough into my bones, like a stubborn splinter that I can't dig out.

I told myself it was meaningless, like a devil playing a sick joke on me; I didn't want to remember it, yet I still tell that to myself.

I'll never forget how vivid her blood was against her pale outfit. How the silence feels suffocating, unnatural, and endless, and somewhere in between the hollow spaces of my ribs, her name lingers, and something constricts with the mere thoughts of her.

Some memories don't fade; they linger, they wait, and they rot.

Chapter Text

WEDNESDAY'S POV

The Nevermore principal's office was dimmed, yet golden hues of light pooling from chandeliers and shaded lamps filled the room, but not enough to brighten it. Ornate decorations that reek of authority and superiority, with their grandiose appearance meant to impress and not for comfort.

Leatherbound chairs and velvety walls, with their intricate patterns, heavy carved wood that declares ownership, and a desk large enough to crush a person's spirit. Everything seems to be more of a stage for authority. It's as if she's about to interrogate a suspect rather than speak to her students.

I sit rigidly on a leather-bound chair between my parents. Principal Weem studied my file, her brows tightened with every page she turned, and I know what she sees in there: my transcripts. She's probably eyeing the disciplinary notes coming from my past teachers, who cannot take my homicidal tendencies, probably noting that "I should seek help" as if I ever need help. I'm not a damsel in distress; I'm the reason why they feel distress.

"Wednesday is certainly... a unique name." After a long moment, she spoke, her tone careful and deliberate, latching onto the safest detail she could find in my transcript. "I'm guessing it's the day you were born?"

"I was born on Friday the thirteenth." I correct her, flatly. Locking my gaze with her's long enough for her to realize the tone of my voice.

There, I saw her expression flicker, faintly, with practiced restraint. My mother leaned forward ."Her name comes from my favorite nursery rhymes." She explained, her tone soft and dripping with nostalgia. "Wednesday's Child is full of woe." For once in my life, this is the first time she ever truly understood me.

Principal Weem's lips curled into a smile that didn't reach her eyes. "You always have a unique perspective of the world, Morticia," she uttered my mother's name with such familiarity. "Did your mother tell you we were roommates back in the day?" she spoke, as if the information she gave was meant to be impressive, but I wasn't.

"And you graduated with your sanity intact?" I commented with a tilt of my head. "Impressive," I said flatly, with a hint of sarcasm, which I knew she caught with how her jaw slightly twitched.

Her smile tightened, and returned into my transcripts. "You've certainly had a very interesting educational journey." She remarked with restrained amusement. She flipped another page, "Eight schools in five years," she continued, scanning the list of subpar schools I attended.

"They haven't built one strong enough to hold me," with a beat, I added, "I doubt this place would be any different." Eyeing the office with pure, slightly concealed disdain.

"What our daughter is trying to say," My father interjects to ease the tension that hasn't even started. "Is that she greatly appreciates the opportunity" I do not. My brow ever so slightly twitched as I eyed my father using my peripheral vision.

"Nevermore doesn't usually accept students in the middle of a term," She continued smoothly, "but given Wednesday's perfect grade, and your family has a long history with the school, I've spoken with the board, and we've made exceptions," she finished with a smile, something she offers deliberately.

"Larissa... how about..." Hesitation oozed out of my mother's voice. I felt her glance at me. "Uhm.. Wednesday's therapy session?" She paused for a moment, and then she added, "The court ordered them," she says softly.

My jaw tightens. I managed to escape the humiliation of failing to get the job done, yet I find this conversation more aggravating. There's nothing I hate more than people who act as if they can psychoanalyze me.

"Hmm. The school has a relationship with a therapist in Jericho, and she can meet twice a week, along with another student." Principal Weems brightly uttered. My eyebrow twitched slightly, stomach clenching at the thought of therapy; it was unnecessary. I do not need to be psychoanalyzed by people who think revealing secrets is enjoyable.

"Did you hear that, my little storm cloud?" my father beamed at me with his misplaced optimism, "You're in great hands." I doubt it. I'll cut their hands off and dissect them, feeding the scraps to my mother's flesh-eating plants.

"We'll see if your therapist survives the first session," I say, my voice warning slightly. Principal Weems wasn't fazed by it. I see that it'll take more than just a few lines to put her off. I enjoy a challenge, I'll dissect her worst fear and nightmares, and exploit them before I make my escape in this purgatory.

"I've assigned you to your mother's old dorm," She says with that tooth-rotting smile of hers. It sounded more condescending. "Ophelia Hall." My mother let out a gasp, delighted, while she clapped her hands. "Refresh my memory, Ophelia's the one who kills herself after being driven mad by her family, correct?" I interjected, turning my head towards my mother, to which she nodded with a fond smile.

"Okay!" Principal Weems gets to her feet. She was tall, taller than I expected. She and my mother look like giants compared to my father and me, and I curse my father's genetic composition for causing my diminutive size.

"Ophelia Hall is supposedly a two-person dorm, but your mother ever so slightly persisted in putting you in there, so we made some adjustments. Shall we go meet your roommates?" Principal Weems stated.

Roommates? The idea of such a thing never occurred to me. My blood runs colder than it should with the thought of loud chattering, late-night gossiping, and giggling roommates. I pictured myself in solitude. Staying in a solemn and quiet room to play my cello and plot my escape, and it did not include doing all of that with an audience.

Chapter Text

Wednesday's first thought upon entering the room of Ophelia Hall was that she would prefer it to be a carnage; a corpse rotting enough to fill the air with its smell, a maggot infestation spilling across the floor, or a poisonous gas that would suffocate the lungs enough to hijack the nervous system with excruciating torture. Anything would be more preferable than this; an explosion of colors, a visual assault to her retinas that made her skin crawl just from looking at it. One of her alleged roommates decorated her side like a rainbow was vomited across the walls, so violent it made death more merciful by comparison.

Every hue was nauseating to Wednesday's eyes. The bedroom feels like it was stolen straight out of a candy store, with different shades of neon designed to suffocate anyone in sight. Wednesday wanted to set it on fire, 'it'll only take a minute,' she thought to herself.

"Oh my," Gomez muttered from behind, his tone dripping with queasy disbelief, while Morticia inhaled a sharp breath upon sighting the room and the explosion of colors.

"It's so vivid," he continued. Wednesday was about to enumerate how it's a grave mistake of theirs to send her there when her eyes slid past the visual horror and latched onto the only thing worth noting in the room.

In the middle of the room, looming just above the kaleidoscopic circular window, is an elevated alcove; it protrudes like an afterthought, likely added to accommodate another person.

It was decorated like a yin-yang. One side coos with soft tones of color, less atrocity than the one below, a nest full of stuffed animals, vintage dolls, and lacey curtains. The other side sneers with its side decorated with pinned insects, preserved animals and specimens, and skeletal fragments inside the glass. At its base, a full human skeleton standing upright near the narrow ladder, pristine and jarring, as if greeting the intruders of the room with its hollow sockets. Along the railings was a parade of porcelain dolls, forming an army of watchmen.

As they stepped further in, the air shifted. One of the porcelain dolls tilted its head; the other creaked. Their glass eyes blinked slowly but deliberately, and they all turned in unison to stare back at them.

"How charming," Morticia says as her smile widens. Her husband leans forward. "They move," he whispered, delightedly. Wednesday, however, did not move; she knew this arrangement like the back of her hand. It reminded her of someone that she has no intention of reminiscing about. The sweetness balanced with morbidity was familiar, disturbingly familiar, and such a connection was unwelcome, intrusive, like a sharp needle embedded in her skin.

For a moment, Wednesday can see her standing there, the ghost of a girl she left standing at a fence five years ago. She crushed down the thoughts instantly, and she vowed not to waste her time and sentiments on someone she had not seen in five years.

The dolls continued to stare, unblinking, and Wednesday stared back without a flinch. And then a body bounces up to her, blond curls dyed with colors swaying, canine smile etching too eagerly, not in a predatory grin of a wolf that Wednesday preferred, but more of a golden retriever grin.

"Howdy, roomie!" She beams at Wednesday, her tone exploding with unbearable cheer. Wednesday did not offer a greeting. "Wednesday," Principal Weems spoke, sensing that the raven-eyed girl wouldn't bother to reply. "This is Enid Sinclair," introducing the polychrome-loving girl.

Enid's eyes sparkle with unmistakable glee, "Are you feeling okay?" she asks, her voice concerned. "You look a little pale," she added, to which Wednesday's father chuckled. "Wednesday always looks half-dead," he replied.

Enid blinked, with uncertainty flickering in her eyes. "Oh, welcome to Ophelia Hall!" she beamed. She outstretched her arms open in an attempt to embrace Wednesday, but the gothic girl stepped back almost immediately.

"And you're not a hugger!" the cotton candy wolf said, unoffended. Enid thought that she should've listened to her friend when she advised her not to try hugging anyone she just met. "Got it!" Enid brightly added.

"Please excuse Wednesday," Morticia intervened, noticing Wednesday's posture. "She's allergic to color," she explained to the wolf girl.

"Oh, wow," Enid's eyes widened with concern, unsure whether to believe that. "What happens to you?" she questioned the girl in braids.

Wednesday finally decided to speak, while staring unblinkingly at Enid, "I break out in hives, and the flesh peels off my bones." Wednesday's voice did not waver. Enid faltered for a moment, her eyes blinking rapidly, trying to decide whether or not the gothic girl was joking.

Principal Weems claps her hands together, audible enough to lift the tension between the two girls. "Luckily, we've ordered you a special no-color uniform too." She addressed the monochrome girl in braids.

"Speaking of... where is our other Ophelia Hall resident?" Weems turns towards Enid, her eyes searching for the girl in the room. Enid perks up, already opening her mouth to answer- when the door groans open.

A figure slips inside the room, and the dolls on the railing move their eyes once again, as if sensing another presence entering the room. Her back was against them, her posture straight, skin glowing with a golden hue, while a satchel slung carelessly over her side, weighing something that clearly wasn't textbooks.

For a moment, they all just watched. Wednesday, however, felt something stir as she eyed the tall girl; something about her presence gave Wednesday an itch that she couldn't reach.

Chapter Text

PENELOPE'S POV

I twist the knob under my fingers, struggling to keep my arms steady due to both of my hands full of glass jars of honey and dead bees. I pushed the door open with my back, jars clinking softly with each movement.

Once I was inside, "Enid, I got some honey from-" I stopped when I noticed Enid wasn't alone. The words died on my tongue as I took in the scene in front of me. My dolls were blinking at me from across the room as if they knew what was happening.

And my grip falters, jars slipping from my hands. They hit the wooden floor with a loud clank that echoes longer than it should have. I take in a sharp breath because standing there was, inevitably, Principal Weems, the Addams family...

And her.

'Oh, it's today'

I can't believe I had forgotten; I had been busy in the beekeeping club, so occupied in my obsessions that I forgot today was the day.

My eyes immediately locked on her, as if it were muscle memory. Wednesday stood there, eyes examining me like a cadaver.

She's older now, she probably grew a few inches taller since I last saw her, but there's no mistaking that she was still her. She looks sharper, unreadable as ever, yet cute in her own dangerous way, but I wouldn't tell her that. She was always mesmerising, like a painting that I would spend all my life looking at.

I imagined this moment, even rehearsing it on how I'd stand, speak, and compose myself when she appeared, but when her obsidian eyes landed on me, my mind went completely blank.

She didn't recognise me immediately. I expected it, so it didn't sting that much. I bet that five years was a long time enough for her to blur the memories. I keep telling myself it didn't matter, but I have the tiniest hope that she would remember me.

Then Weems spoke; her voice cut through the silence. "Wednesday, this is your other roommate, Penelope Blythe-" And in that instant, the air shifted. I saw her gaze flicker. It was sharp but undeniable.

Wednesday's eyes locked into mine, "Of all the freaks to find in here-" she stared at me with recognition "-It had to be you." She spoke flatly with precision, eyes unblinking.

My heart skipped a beat, my stomach twisting violently. 'She remembered.' Even after five years, she remembered.

And then my body betrayed me by moving recklessly. I closed the distance between us. My arms wrapped around her. Her scent hit me instantly. She smelled like cedarwood, petrichor, the musk of old parchment and ink, a hint of iron. It was intoxicating, to say the least.

For one second, her body went still. For two seconds, I felt how cold she was. For three seconds, she didn't push me away, no hiss, no blade in my neck. Four seconds later, she still hasn't moved, still stiff. Five seconds later, she let out a faint exhale. By six seconds, I waited for her to shove me, but it never came. I couldn't see her expression right now due to our height differences, but I think it's better for me not to see. Seven seconds later, I was the one who broke the one-sided hug, pulling back away from her. My arms felt hollow, so I pulled out Gloomy from my satchel, clutching her tightly in my arms.

I knew Wednesday hated it, I knew how she loathed physical touch, but I waited far too long for this. I wouldn't waste such a moment to prove that she was indeed here.

"Sorry," I mumbled quietly. Moving my head down to meet her eyes, "I know you don't like physical touch, but it's been a long time. I couldn't stop myself." I gave her a near smile.

Wednesday looked up slightly, and her face stayed perfectly expressionless. Her posture was completely still; she didn't push me away, and she didn't kill me. And that was enough for me.

Enid, however, looked like she had witnessed a crime scene. Her jaw dropped, her mouth open and closed until she blurted out, "Wait- You two know each other?" She looked at me, with her eyes searching for answers, but I gave her none, and neither did Wednesday.

And then I felt it, the weight of the Addamses stares. Morticia's eyes wandered with intrigue, and Gomez tilted his head while assessing me with recognition.

"Well, it seems our little viper has already found her snake charmer." He said with amusement dripping in his voice.

"Indeed," Morticia's voice purred, like a predator eyeing something rare. "I can't recall the last time someone touched Wednesday without losing a hand." With that comment, Wednesday shot her parents with a menacing glare.

I wanted to sink into the floor badly. The weight of their attention was something else. Weems, noticing the tension, clasped her hands and ordered us to give Wednesday a tour, to which we both nodded.

"Since when did you two know each other?!" Enid questioned while making our way to the registrar's office.

"Since before Nevermore," I spoke calmly. One thing I know about Enid is that she's persistent when she wants answers. Wednesday didn't say anything, and her silence was still comforting as ever.

Unbeknownst to me, the Addamses exchange glances, a silent conversation of probably wanting to extract details from Wednesday later.

Chapter Text

Penelope moved with deliberate steps while cradling a bear with pink fur and glassy eyes in her arms. She didn't look at Wednesday, merely stealing glances at the gothic girl that went noticed by the said girl, although Penelope's steps matched perfectly with Wednesday, as though the five years that passed hadn't broken the rhythm they once shared.

Wednesday saw it, she noticed it, and even acknowledged it to which she vehemently hated that she noticed, but she refused to admit it.

Enid, being unbothered by the noticeable tension between the two, spoke with a coaxing tone. "So... were you two besties? or enemies? or both?" 

Penelope let out a soft exhale. "Neither, Enid." Her reply was low yet stern. She knew it wouldn't end there, "Oh, c'mon, Penny! We've been friends for weeks now. " Enid never let the silence win. She's persistent.

Wednesday's eyebrow faintly twitched. The nickname grated her tympanic membrane, impossible for her to ignore.

When they rounded a corner where the hallway leading to the registrar's office was narrowed, Penelope, without thinking, shifted closer towards Wednesday. Her sleeve brushed against the ravennette, and a phantom warmth hit Wednesday's cold skin.

Wednesday should have moved away with their close proximity, yet she didn't. That was a mistake because Enid noticed. Her canine grin sharpened. "Ohhh, I'm sensing that you guys have history," she teased. 

"You feel incorrectly," Penelope murmured. Internally, she was sweating. She didn't want Wednesday to smother Enid in her sleep due to her persistent chatter. She grew to like the girl, after all.

With that said, Gloomy let out a tiny growl that made Enid and Wednesday's heads turn. That silenced Enid, noting the warning tone in Gloomy's growl while Wednesday locked her eyes with the bear, a memory crept in. Last time she had seen Penelope, albeit in her vision, there was blood on the ground, and Gloomy was twitching. And now, said bear was inevitably alive. 

She hadn't managed to erase the vision she saw. Wednesday usually loves to see such a delightful sight, but this one in particular, she did not enjoy it, and with Penelope Blythe being at Nevermore, despite appearing like she was a normie with peculiar interests, was like a needle twisting under her ribs that sank deeper in her insides.

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After picking up Wednesday's schedule, the famous tour came next. Enid rattled off with her sanitized sales pitch despite Wednesday's vehement refusals.

Wednesday didn't need a history lesson of this purgatory that she planned on escaping, although Penelope being here made her think twice. 

While Enid and Wednesday bicker with each other, Penelope lingered behind them, her expression unreadable, eyes observing, always watching. She still hasn't fully adjusted the reality that she's living inside the series she adored. Watching people, actual living people instead of actors acting the characters, was still weird for her. Not that she didn't try to get used to it. She did, but that doesn't mean it was easy. 

They are living people, not characters, that she knows, and that's exactly what made her worry. She grew attached to them, and she's torn between interfering with the story or letting it all play out as it is afterall, she knows the butterfly effect, she's worried about setting off a chain reaction if she did act out. This series was different compared to Camp Chippewa because it involved people dying and a monster running amok.

And what if she made it worse by interfering? She already died once, and if fate dragged her here to just watch Wednesday bleed, then consequences be damned. She'll break the world just by protecting the ones she loves.

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"Perhaps you can clear something up!" Enid started, "Rumours have been swirling around that you killed a kid at your old school, and your parents pulled strings to get you off." Enid repeated the rumours she heard and saw online. Penelope got deja vu, considering she was interrogated by Enid, too.

"Actually, it was two kids, but who's counting?" Wednesday replied, and Enid froze, her face pale, torn between horror and uncertainty. While Penelope gave a quiet snicker disguised as a cough, the corner of her mouth curved slightly.

Once they reached the quad, Enid recited the same lines she spoke from the series. Gesturing towards the vampires, werewolves, sirens, and the unnecessary gossip about Xavier and Bianca.

"And which tribe do you belong to?" Wednesday looked up to Penelope, silently cursing at the height difference. "None, don't belong to any," Penelope replied shortly.

Before Wednesday could reply, they were interrupted by Ajax Petropolus calling Enid's name. "Yo Enid! You're not gonna believe the dirt I heard about your new roommate!" He started, oblivious to Penelope and Wednesday, who were standing behind Enid.

"She eats human flesh! Chowed down on that kid she murdered. You better watch your back." He warned Enid, Penelope was reminded of the time he warned Enid about her, and because of that, she doesn't have a good impression of Ajax.

Enid grimaced, her face portraying how awkward she felt as she stepped aside, showing Wednesday who locked gaze with Ajax widened eyes.

"Quite the contrary, I actually fillet the bodies of my victim and feed them to my menagerie of pets," Wednesday coldly replied, unbothered by the words uttered by the boy. Penelope faintly smirked at her remark, internally cackling to herself as she watched Ajax's face paled, and Wednesday felt a satisfying victory, enjoying the look of terror on his face.

"Ajax! This is my new roommate, Wednesday, " Enid introduced, gesturing towards the ravennette. "Whoa, you're in black and white like a living Instagram filter." Ajax rambled on, and then he smirks, "Guess Nevermore's has been collecting interesting cases this year, two roommates with reputations." The words landed heavier than they intended. Enid's ears perked up. Gloomy glared daggers at Ajax. 

Before Enid could say something, Penelope spoke, "You should really stop talking about people as if they're not standing in front of you." She warned him, her tone sharp like a blade, his eyes blinking, startled by the comment. He gave Penelope an awkward smile and a hurried apology before scurrying away.

All while Wednesday was intrigued about the vague information Ajax had spoken about Penelope.

"Sorry about Ajax, he's cute but clueless," Enid apologized to both of them. Penelope gave her a deadpan stare, and Enid offered a sheepish grin. 

Enid gazed up at Wednesday, "It's a small school, and there wasn't much online about you compared to Penelope, no offence, Penny." She remarked and offered a smile to Penelope. Wednesday raised her brow slightly at her last words, clearly curious. Wednesday considered interrogating Penelope herself, but she'll find it out eventually, so there was no rush. 

Enid then advised Wednesday to have Instagram, TikTok, and Snapchat, and the monochrome girl dismissed Enid by saying social media is a soul-sucking void of meaningless affirmation, and Penelope quietly agreed to her statement, albeit reluctantly.

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Wednesday stood with the rest of the Addamses in the circular driveway of Nevermore. They were about to leave, and impatience could be seen from Wednesday's posture, to which she made no effort to hide.

"Why don't you boys wait in the car?" Morticia says after saying their goodbyes. "Wednesday and I are in need of a moment," she added. The boys nodded and headed inside the car.

Morticia's gaze sharpens when they are gone, "Any plans you have of running away end right now. I've alerted all family members to contact me the minute you darken their doorstep. You have nowhere to go," she threatened Wednesday.

Inwardly, Wednesday scoffs at the thought that her mother thinks their family member would be her first stop. "As usual, you underestimate me, Mother. I will escape this educational penitentiary, and you will never hear from me again." She bit back.

"You're a brilliant girl, Wednesday, but you sabotage yourself. You'll grow to love Nevermore, just like I did."

Wednesday remained silent, refusing to reply, so Morticia added, almost casually. "Not to mention, Penelope." The name made Wednesday still, and Morticia notices it.

"She attended Camp Chippewa with you, did she not? You invited her to your Uncle Fester's wedding as well." Morticia lets on, her tone deliberate, noticing every minuscule of Wednesday's movement. "You let her hug you, and she survived."

"I was momentarily attacked by a heatstroke," Wednesday replied too quickly, betraying how unaffected she tried to appear.

A small knowing smile etched between Morticia's lips that Wednesday loathed. "Hmm, you might say that, but you stood very still, as if... you find it tolerable."

"That was the side effect." Wednesday reasoned out, voice stern, but her mother did not believe her.

Instead, Morticia pulled out a necklace, a symbol of their connection, an obsidian with a silver W or an M depending on which way one turns it. The Aztec priests used it for visions.

"Which one of your spirits suggested this toe-curling tchotchke? I'm not you, Mother," Wednesday's tone pooling with disdain. "I will never fall in love, or be a housewife, or have a family."

"Perhaps... but time changes people, Wednesday. Feelings emerge when we least expect it." Morticia purred with an all-knowing look in her eyes that Wednesday disliked.

"I have none." The ravennette plainly stated. Morticia hummed, ignoring her words because she knew, no matter how Wednesday denied it.

She handed Wednesday the crystal ball, and then they left, leaving Wednesday standing in the wind and the truth that she could not dismiss, no matter how she detested it, because her mother was onto something.

Chapter Text

When Wednesday stepped inside the Ophelia hall, sunlight peeked through the cursed iridescent window, colours scattered across the wooden floor like bleeding wounds. It was an insult to Wednesday's retinas.  

Wednesday started tearing off the rainbow films away, peeling them with deliberate precision as if dissecting a kaleidoscopic unicorn carcass. 

From above, Penelope stirred in her slumber. She rose from her bed and descended the narrow ladder, her dolls blinking as they watched her in unison.

Penelope stood just behind Wednesday. She tilted her head as she eyed Wednesday, her expression softened with amusement.

"I don't think Enid is going to like what you're doing," she murmured, Wednesday's eyes stayed fixed on peeling the bottom sheets away, ignoring her as she stood up and eyed the rest of the films from above, knowing fully well that it was too far for her to reach even if she stand in the tip of her shoes.

Penelope watched in amusement as Wednesday tried to tug down the films from above, but the Addams girl only managed to reach the corners, to which her jaw tightened slightly as her eyes narrowed with irritation.

"I think you're too small for that one, Wens," Penelope commented softly, the words landing like a pin-drop in the hall, and Wednesday freezes mid-reach as her black painted nails hover at the corners of the rainbow film above. Her head turned slowly while her deadly glare snapped towards Penelope.

"You've gotten quite bolder since the last time we met," Wednesday said. Each syllable she uttered was like a sharp blade. "Five years, and the first thing you do is assault me with unsolicited affection." And then she added, "As if that wasn't enough, you dare to mock my height. Say that again, and I shall hang you from the window." 

Penelope only tilted her head, amusement flickering in her gaze. A smile deepened in her face, and the corner of her mouth tugged upward. She expected nothing less than a blatant threat from Wednesday. Unbothered by it, she let out a tiny laugh that slipped from her before masking it as an exhale.

"I'll take that as your way of saying you missed me," Penelope retorted. She found it quite fun to tease the gothic girl.

Wednesday's gaze narrowed; if glares could kill, Penelope would be dead by now. It lingered for a moment too long, and before Wednesday could utter a sharp retort, Penelope moved near beside her and peeled the remaining films that Wednesday couldn't reach. 

"You're welcome." Penelope's voice appeared to be calm and unbothered, but Wednesday felt the hint of deliberate teasing from her tone. She stared daggers at the taller girl, curses filling her head, but couldn't bring herself to speak and deny.

The silence stretched for a quick moment before it was broken by Enid barging through the door. "What the hell did you do to our room?!" she gasped, clearly outraged at Wednesday.

Wednesday turned towards her, "Dividing our room equally," she dryly replied to Enid.

"Equally?!, how is it equal when Penny's in the center?" Her arms flailed while gesturing to Penelope's loft. "She isn't part of the equation," Wednesday remarked, her tone flat.

"Seriously? Penny! Are you okay with this?" She threw Penelope a gaze portraying 'help me'. Penelope just shrugged, "I don't mind." 

Penelope didn't step aside. She stayed exactly between Enid and Wednesday at the center, acting like a "bridge" between the two..

Enid groaned at her reply. "Ugh! You're both impossible!"

Wednesday shoved the films on Enid's side. "It looked like a rainbow vomited in your side," She coldly remarked. The cotton candy wolf's face crumpled, clearly offended.

And the bickering sets off, Penelope just watches from the centre of the room, letting the snide retorts pass from Enid to Wednesday. She finds it amusing, to say the least. It was vastly different from watching it play on the screen. She didn't bother interfering, content with just observing.

Before the tension escalated, the door creaked open, and the dolls from the railing snapped their heads towards the door. "Good evening, girls," The figure slipped inside the room, Miss Thornhill's muddy red boots clunking. Penelope's eyes narrowed faintly as the three of them stood together.

"Oh, sorry about the mud. I wanted to make sure that Wednesday was settling in. Is this a bad time?" Thornhill said as she eyed the three. Penelope's face was unreadable in contrast to her internal thoughts; she was seething, being in the same room with Thornhill made her want to strangle the bitch. But thankfully, she had enough willpower to stop herself.

"I'm Miss Thornhill, your dorm mom," She introduced herself to Wednesday. 

'Unfortunately, you're also Laurel Gates and the cause of all the disasters that're gonna happen.' Penelope thought, Gloomy, who was in the bed, felt Penelope's emotions. 'Help?' she telepathically asks. 'Oh no, I got it,' Penelope replied back. She forgot for a moment that Gloomy can feel her emotions even from miles away.

"Apologies, I wasn't here to greet you when you arrived." Thornhill continued, and Penelope just wanted to get it over with already.

"I trust Enid and Penelope have given you the old Nevermore welcome." Thornhill smiled at the said girls. 

"They've been smothering me with hospitality," Wednesday replied flatly, taking a glance at Penelope, who was already looking at her. Wednesday paused and continued, "I hope to return the favour... in their sleep." 

Penelope lets out a soft exhale of amusement, unbothered by the ravennette's empty threat. While Enid was the opposite, she looked at Wednesday with uncertainty, clearly torn between believing whether she was joking or not.

And then the redhead woman in boots gave Wednesday a flower, stating that she tried to match the right flower for each of her girls in the Ophelia Hall. 

"The Black Dahlia," Wednesday murmured flatly as she looked at the flower she held. Penelope thinks the flower she gave Wednesday before was more amazing than the one Thornhill gave. 

"Oh, you know it?" Thornhill was too eager as she pretended to be, but Penelope knew the disguise she was trying to hide.

"Of course. It's named after my favourite unsolved murder. Thank you." From the corner of Wednesday's eye, she caught Penelope eyeing the flower, and the monochromatic girl remembered the bone flower that the taller girl gave her back in Camp Chippewa. Compared to that, Thornhill's flower felt hollow and insincere.

"And Penelope," that got both of the girls' attention. "Are you settling in? I know the first term can get overwhelming." Thornhill glances at Penelope. Penelope didn't understand why Thornhill had been too eager to make conversation with her every time Thornhill spotted her. She was already suspicious of the redheaded woman.

"I am, thank you," Her tone was polite, too smooth, too controlled, and Wednesday noticed that Thornhill, however, didn't. She smiled while nodding, completely oblivious.

"Okey dokey. Before I leave -" and Penelope tuned everything out. Thornhill narrated the house rules, such as lights off at 10, no boys, blah blah. Penelope thinks Thornhill didn't need to worry about that as she internally rolled her eyes, unless it was Enid. 

Wednesday was extracting information in order for her to escape, as she asked Thornhill about the local town. Penelope sighed softly when Thornhill left.

Wednesday puts down the dahlia on her table. And, turning towards Penelope, absentmindedly, she asked, "What flower did she give you?" Penelope was caught off guard for a few moments as she blinked her eyes. 

"A galanthus," she replied softly before making her way up to her loft. 

A snowdrop, Penelope searched for its meaning the moment after it was given to her. It signifies new beginnings, hope, and triumph after hardship and rebirth. The last word made her sweat.

Wednesday's brow lifted slightly, knowing fully well the meaning of the flower.

The doll-obsessed girl opened up her journal once she was in her loft, and there lay the information that she wrote in order not to forget the plot of the series. She worried a lot that others might accidentally find it, so she wrote it in a coded way. Such as this one about Marilyn Thornhill.

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ᴿᵉᵈ ᵀʰᵒʳⁿˢ ᵖᵃʳᵃᵈᵉᵈ ⁱᵗˢᵉˡᶠ ᵃˢ ˢᵒᵐᵉᵗʰⁱⁿᵍ ˢʷᵉᵉᵗ ᵃⁿᵈ ⁿᵒⁿ⁻ᵖᵒⁱˢᵒⁿᵒᵘˢ, ᵇᵘᵗ ⁱᵗˢ ᵛᵉⁿᵒᵐ ᵈʳⁱᵖˢ ᶠʳᵒᵐ ⁱᵗˢ ʳᵒᵒᵗˢ. ᴵⁿⁿᵒᶜᵉⁿᶜᵉ ᵐᵃˢᵏˢ ᵗʰᵉ ᵖᵒⁱˢᵒⁿ ʳᵒᵒᵗˢ ⁱᵗ ᵇᵉᵃʳˢ. ᴰⁱˢᵃˢᵗᵉʳ ⁱˢ ᵗʰᵉ ʰᵒᵇᵇʸ ⁱᵗ ʳᵒᵒᵗᵉᵈ ⁱⁿ, ᵈʳⁱᵛⁱⁿᵍ ᵗʰᵉ ᴳᵒˡˡᵘᵐ ʷᵃⁿⁿᵃᵇᵉ ᵗᵒ ˢˡᵃˢʰ, ᶜᵘᵗ, ᵃⁿᵈ ˢᵒʷ ᶜʰᵃᵒˢ ᵇᵉᶠᵒʳᵉ ᵗʰᵉ ᶠⁱⁿᵃˡ ᵈᵃʷⁿ. ᴵᵗˢ ᵇˡᵒᵒᵈ ᵈᵉˢᶜᵉⁿᵈᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ᵗʰᵉ ʳⁱˢᵉ ᵒᶠ ᵗʰᵉ ᵃⁿᶜⁱᵉⁿᵗ ˢᵗᵒⁿᵉ, ᵃ ᶠⁱⁿᵃˡ ᵃᶜᵗ ᵒᶠ ᵉʳᵃᵈⁱᶜᵃᵗⁱⁿᵍ ᵃˡˡ ᵗʰᵉ ᵘⁿⁱ૧ᵘᵉ ᶠˡᵒʷᵉʳˢ ⁱⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ˢᵒⁱˡ.

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Penelope closed her journal, putting it hidden in the bottom of her wooden chest, where she kept all of her trinkets. She just prayed that Wednesday wouldn't accidentally read it, knowing how the gothic girls have a penchant for solving riddles. 

She let herself sink into the comfort of her bed while Wednesday returned to her desk, her novel waiting to be written, but her eyes flicked up to Penelope's loft. A single glance that lingered too long to be casual. Unbeknownst to Penelope, of course, who brushed her fingers against the fur of Gloomy. 

None of them spoke. 

The Ophelia Hall fell into a steady rhythm, Wednesday's typewriter clanking, Enid's soft sighs, and Penelope's lo-fi music settled in the room.