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“O, what a tangled web we weave when first we practice to deceive!”

Walter Scott .

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Last time, on “Wednesday”

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My very first stalker…

Maybe this forced vacation will be more interesting than I imagined…

Unlike my novel, not every thread has been tied up, nor every question answered.

Secrets are still lurking in the dark corners of Jericho.

Were Laurel Gates and Tyler just pawns in a bigger game?

Will today’s stalker become tomorrow’s nemesis?

…I know the suspense is killing you.

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And now, the continuation.

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When I first arrived at Nevermore, I likened it to juvenile incarceration. I treated it as a place to escape from. To show my parents that nothing could stop me. That no place could hold me. That I would never live up to their expectations, nor have I ever wanted to.

My time there swiftly shifted from eluding Nevermore’s authority; To being the stage for an enticing mystery that needed solving. An alluring adventure, abundant with distraction, and overflowing with unexpected twists.

I was thrust into a game of mystery, intrigue, chaos, and death. I was haunted by an ancestor, hunted by monsters, lied to at every turn, and I was at the center of an apocalyptic prophecy involving a necromantic, bigoted, zealot-pilgrim risen from the dead.

…Which is a sentence that has never been uttered before.

The mysterious murder-case shifted and swayed. I was unwillingly a part of it all. I was thwarted at every turn, lied to by authority figures, challenged by many, kidnapped by a pitiful excuse for a secret society, and nearly killed on numerous occasions.

On top of all of this, I was unknowingly manipulated and used as a tool for revenge, a conduit for dark magic, and the unfortunate key to opening a door that unleashed rampant evil upon the world that threatened the lives of all outcasts. I was forced to play in this game, forced to stay in it to the bitter end. I was frequently outplayed and outmatched.

However much I dislike the idea of admitting this. I would say that the time I spent at that facility was… educational…I am loathe to admit, my parents were unfortunately correct in their assumptions. Nevermore overall was not completely unbearable. And was, in fact, an unforgettable experience.

You could say that I enjoyed it.

That place had an ability to surprise me. It was unexpected. I will not be caught off guard again.

When I return to Nevermore…

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Wednesday sat in the car looking at the new phone that Xavier had given her. Her head full of questions and memories, plagued by thoughts she has never experienced. Overthinking the events of the last few months. More specifically, the last few days. She looked at the messages from her stalker, over and over again.

She felt the car turn onto the highway, pulling her out of her thoughts. Wednesday lifts her eyes from the phone and looks around the car. Unsurprisingly, she sees her parents staring into each other’s eyes and kissing after every few words of endearment.

The word ‘sickening’, coming to the forefront of her mind. Wednesday rolls her eyes. A common reaction when she is around her parents. She looks back down to her phone and re-reads the messages that she received.

After looking over those texts, yet again, she turned away from the phone and stared out the hearse’s window. Lurch was driving over the speed limit, as per usual. She watched as the trees passed by, becoming increasingly whiter as they drove their way to New Jersey. The home of the Addams Family manor.

Wednesday gazed out the car window, looking at all of the ‘ sickening beauty’ she thought .

The snow falling on the dying and already-dead foliage. Her phone buzzed in her hands, mostly forgotten for the last few minutes, or hours. Wednesday wasn’t sure how long she was zoned out, watching the scenery pass by.

She looked down at the new phone in her hand, seeing three new messages on the screen.

2:48 pm — Unknown: Hello Wednesday. Guess who?!

Unknown: I’ll give you a hint…

Unknown: Xavier gave me your number!!

Wednesday raised an eyebrow unamused, looking at her phone as if the texter could see her. Wednesday wrote her reply as several new ones came through. She read the incoming messages already knowing who it was.

“Speaking of sickening beauty.”  She thought to herself.

Unknown: Also

Unknown: Can I say how totes exciting it is that you have a phone???!!!

Wednesday: How do you send these messages in such quick succession, Enid?

Unknown: Awwe :(

Unknown: How did you know it was me?

Wednesday: How do you think?

Unknown: Cause we are totes linked and the best of best friends of course!

Wednesday ignored the comment and instead asked Enid for help with her new phone.

W ednesday: How do I change the information of someone who sends me messages on this device?

Unknown: Why so you can change my name from unknown to Enid?

Unknown: Ooh maybe: My Bestie Enid!

Unknown: Or what about: The Best Wolf In The Whole World.

Unknown: I’ll also accept: Enid The Hyde Slayer!!

Wednesday: Will you answer my question and cease your ridiculous prattling!

Unknown: OR: The bestest most wonderful werewolf in the world!

Wednesday: If you do not stop, I will remove you from speaking with me on this device. Instead of changing the contact name.

Unknown: Jeez, I see someone’s cranky again.

Unknown: Good to see you haven’t changed much in the last few hours.

Enid then talked Wednesday through changing her contact information. She was a little bit overwhelmed by this new technology. But was determined to figure it out.

Enid Sinclair: So…

Enid Sinclair: What did you change my name to??

Wednesday: I changed it to the date that you will perish.

Wednesday couldn’t hold back a little evil smirk while typing that. Wednesday doesn’t make jokes but will sometimes use sarcasm. She felt that this message was an apt moment for it.

Enid Sinclair: Oh? :(

Enid Sinclair: That’s funny.

Enid Sinclair: That was meant to be a joke… right?

Wednesday couldn’t help but roll her eyes, at the texts. She still doesn’t understand how teenagers could do this for hours at a time. She already felt the device beginning to give her a headache.

Evading the comment about her joke, she replied.

Wednesday: I put your name.

Enid Sinclair: We’ll that’s boring. Do you want to know what your name is?

Wednesday: My name is Wednesday.

Enid Sinclair: I know that silly, I meant the name that I put as your contact info.

Wednesday: What did you put?

Enid Sinclair: Hehehe Your contact name is…

Enid Sinclair: Drum roll please…

Enid Sinclair: My Bestie, Hero of Nevermore!

Enid Sinclair: You like it?

Wednesday: I am not a hero.

Enid Sinclair: :( Well you are to me

Enid Sinclair: and to several of the students and teachers at Nevermore as well

Wednesday: Well, those people are wrong. I was just doing what I had to. I didn’t do it for any of them.

Wednesday read the comment about her being a hero and immediately felt sick to her stomach. She did not like the feeling, knowing that so many people thought of her as a hero. It was unsettling to her. She preferred to be feared, or ignored, not loved, and revered. Although, she did enjoy the knowledge that several people were indebted to her. But it still made her nauseous to think about. So Wednesday attempted to end the conversation and escape the sensation.

Wednesday: I must go now. I will speak with you later.

Enid Sinclair: OK :) I’ll call you later

Enid Sinclair: If that’s ok?

Wednesday: If I am able, I will answer. Goodbye, Enid.

Wednesday clicked the button to make her new phone go dark and then put it in her backpack. She turned her head back to looking out the window. Watching the trees and cars go by, the snow falling around them.

Wednesday glared at the scenery on the other side of the glass. Trying to ignore her parent's incessant romantic displays and their multiple attempts at talking to her.

Not long later, the car turned onto the long driveway up to their manor. They were finally home. Wednesday watched the surroundings of the driveway pass, noting how little had changed in the last few months. The driveway looked the same, except for a couple inches of fresh snow. Although, she expected as much.

Once the car pulled to a stop, Wednesday pulled the handle to the door and pushed it open. She got out of the car before Lurch could open the door for her. Wednesday stepped off the side and looked up at the Addams Family Manor.

She stood there silently for a moment, just staring at the large house. As the snow fell gently around her, littering the ground in a white blanket. This was the first time she had seen the manor in a couple months. She never thought she would miss this place.

Once she heard the ground crunch beneath her parent’s feet, she knew that her time was limited. She mentally shook herself of those thoughts and prepared to enter the manor.

After looking at the building, with its gothic and grandiose architecture, for a moment, Wednesday decided to head inside. She grabbed her backpack and a suitcase and walked towards the house. She felt the fresh snow compact under her boots as she walked up to the house. Hearing the creaks of floorboards on the front porch as she stepped on it.

She reached for the handle, to open the front door, when the it opened itself without prompt, as if the house knew she was there and opened up for her.

She walked through the front door and immediately noticed a change in the foyer. She froze at the unexpected sight of Bruno missing, gone from the foyer. Their partially-sentient polar bear rug, was no longer by the entrance, where it had been for several years. She looked back and forth for a moment, before her father chimed in from behind her.

“Ah, we forgot to mention. We moved Bruno to the top of the stairs. He hated not being able to see as much. You know, with him being so low to the ground. Now he’s up at the top. Able to see everything and pretend like we are all his unassuming prey.” Gomez chuckled a bit after gesturing towards the stairs. He then moved on, walking to the living room and leaving his annoyed daughter in the foyer.

Wednesday’s gaze moved to look at the top of the stairs. Sure enough, there he was. Looming above everything, like the predator he was. Wednesday’s face shifted into a scowl at the unnecessary change to the household décor.

The girl’s glare shifted down to the bottom of the staircase. She walked towards it, setting her suitcase and backpack at the base of it. She then turned to right of the stairs and walked towards the living room. Wanting to see if anything else had changed while she was away.

She moved through the foyer entrance into the living room. Catching the glimpse of her father’s shadow, exiting the living room and going into the hall. She stepped into the room to see if anything else had changed without her. She glanced around the room, checking to see if everything was where it had been when she was sent to Nevermore.

Looking around the living room, she could tell that they had added a few extra cobwebs, some unusual figurines, and a few new spider webs. She slowly stepped through the room, checking the tables, cabinets, and bookshelves. But other than the new, minor decorations, it looked the same as when she had left.

That is until she noticed a new hole in the floor. A brand new, sizable one, to be exact. Peering into the hole, she could see all the way through to the playroom below. She tapped it with her foot, to check the structural integrity of the floorboards surrounding it. Hearing the floorboards creaking at the pressure she applied.

Wednesday crouched near the hole, noting that the floorboards appeared structurally sound. She looked at the hole and estimated that it was about 5 to 6 inches in diameter. She took a moment and thought about the possible causes of the hole. Concluding that someone had been playing with some sort of explosives inside the house… again.

“Probably father, or Pugsley. Unless Uncle Fester showed up after he visited me in Jericho.” Wednesday thought to herself as she looked down the hole.

“No, it cannot be Uncle Fester. He told me where he was heading after he left. And he would have made a bigger mess. It must have been Father or Pugsley.” She tilted her head as she hypothesized.

After noting the diameter and possible perpetrator, she heard the unmistakable sound of Mother’s footsteps entering the living room. Wednesday stood and turned her head towards the sound and confirmed that it was indeed her mother. She felt a small amount of pride that her extraordinary hearing had not lost its sharp prowess, while she was at Nevermore.

She glanced at the hole once more, before asking her mother about it. “What exactly was the cause of this? Was Father playing with his trains in the living room again?”

Morticia glanced over to what her daughter was talking about. She smirked and sighed in graceful contentment. “No, my lovely storm-cloud, he wasn’t. You know how that turned out the last time.” Morticia laughed softly at the memory of Gomez’s previous endeavor with his trains in the living room.

Morticia moved towards the hole like she was gliding gracefully towards Wednesday. She stopped next to the hole and looked down through it, before continuing.

”It was Pugsley. He was playing with the cannon in the playroom. He used too much gunpowder for the size of the cannonball. You know how boys are. Unfortunately, the cannonball didn’t explode. It just shot up and through the floor. We haven’t had a chance to have it fixed yet. We were called to an emergency… Well, you know.” She stated fondly, glancing at her daughter.

Wednesday slightly rolled her eyes at the condescension from Morticia. She tried to ignore it and move on. Feeling a little bitter, not being there to see the destruction. To not be the one that blew a hole through the floor. But, like always, she stiffened her face, removing any signs of her real feelings, and nodded at her mother in confirmation of her answer.

Morticia raised her right arm, about to touch her daughter’s shoulder, when Wednesday stepped back. Morticia appeared slightly hurt by the action but smiled at her anyway. Continuing to struggle with her daughter’s aversion to touch and affection.

Wednesday still didn’t feel comfortable with people touching her without permission. Even if those people were her family. Wednesday took a step back, reflexively. She didn’t want to be touched, so she looked at her mother and glared a little.

Morticia looked at her daughter’s face and smiled sadly at the raven-haired girl. She nodded, dropping her hands to her side and straightened her posture. Wednesday stiffly nodded back. Morticia nodded once more, as if they had a conversation, and turned walking behind Wednesday

She moved towards her large-backed wicker chair and gracefully sat down in it. Her lips turned upwards in a small smile at Wednesday, before she turned her attention away from her daughter. She picked up a book on the table next to the chair, opening it to the bookmark and began reading from it.

A moment later, Wednesday saw her father walk back into the room, walking directly to Morticia. Mumbling something in Italian and kissing her hand. Wednesday rolled her eyes and started to exit the room. She had seen her father kiss his wife’s arm, up her neck and cheeks, reaching her lips and then make out with her, several times before. She was sick of seeing it. The image of it made Wednesday internally gag at the thought.

Her face shifted into disgust as she lightly stomped out of the room, and through into the foyer, disgustedly mumbling in another language.

Deciding that she had done enough socializing with her family, for now, she grabbed her suitcase and backpack from the base of the staircase and walked up the steps. Heading to her room at the end of the second floor hallway.

She passed Bruno on the way, he growled at her as if to say, ‘hello’. She dropped her disgusted expression and acknowledged him with a nod. She continued to her room, eager to finally spend some time in solitude. The car ride was enough to drive her even further into insanity than she already was.

As she came down the hallway, she noted that nothing had changed in there. Once she reached her room, for the first time in months, she saw the door open. The things that Lurch had already brought in, laying on the floor.

She stepped inside, looking to see if anyone had touched anything in there, other than Lurch putting her possessions in the room. If anyone had, Wednesday probably would have stabbed first and asked questions later.

To her unpleasant surprise, her room was exactly as she left it. Nearly empty, except for her bed and desk. The bed was bare, as she was instructed to bring her own sheets, blankets, and pillows to Nevermore. All of which, she would need to put back on the bed.

She stepped further into the room and glanced around, noting everything that she would need to do to bring her room to the way she preferred. Returning it back to the state she had it before she left for Nevermore.

Wednesday walked to the desk and sat the bags she was holding at the foot of it. Lurch stepped in with a load of trunks and suitcases for her to unpack. He sat them on the floor and she nodded at him. He groaned before walking out to get the last of her stuff. Wednesday looked at the growing pile of her possessions and decided to begin with returning the bed to its former state.

She got to work resetting her room back to its proper state. All while Lurch slowly brought her stuff in. She began unpacking the trunk with her bed items and set up the bed with everything that was left.

After she finished with that, she began putting the other items back into their proper places. Moving over to the pile of suitcases and trunks. Putting her clothes into her closet and dressers in the room.

While Wednesday unpacked her clothes she heard Lurch shut the front door. Meaning that he was bringing in the last few items of hers. As he entered the room, she turned towards him and watched him set the last of her things on the floor.

Looking up at him, Wednesday thanked Lurch once he stood up straight again. He groaned, making a sound that she took for a ‘You’re welcome’, and nodding at her, before stepping out of the room, shutting the door behind him.

She was relieved for the chance to be in complete solitude for the first time in weeks. She finished putting some of her things back to their rightful places and then sat down at her desk. She closed her eyes, to shut herself away, in a sense. Sighing, breathing deeply, to center herself.

After a few moments, she went back to unpacking the rest of her things. She finished the clothes, moving on to her various accessories and desk items. Setting them on the desk in the specific way that she liked. She opened her typewriter case, set the device in the middle of the desk, and put her latest novel next to it. She continued until her desk was finished.

A moment later, she felt a vibration at her feet. Looking down for the offending feeling, she glared at her backpack on the ground. Reaching down, and opening the backpack, she pulled out the offending device.

She turned it on, to see what had been sent to her. Immediately she noticed several texts. A couple from Enid, which was her response from their earlier conversation. Wednesday sat down at the desk and read the messages.

3:05 PM — Enid Sinclair: OK thank you :)

Enid Sinclair: you have a good day too

Enid Sinclair: Let me know if you get home safely. ttyl!

Wednesday read the message over three times. Yet, she didn’t understand what ‘ttyl’ meant. She thought through the several ciphers that she knew in her mind. But nothing stood out to her. She would have to ask Enid about it. Or work through it with a notepad later and see if she could figure it out.

Until then she moved on to the other messages. They were from her mystery stalker. She quickly changed the stalker's contact name, before she forgot how.

5:36 pm — My Stalker: It is unfortunate that you will not be around your friends for a while. But don’t worry, we’ll still have our fun. But, we’ll have to wait until all of you are back together for the real fun to start.

My Stalker: Did you have a nice trip?

As soon as she finished reading it another two messages came through in quick succession.

5:45 PM — My Stalker: By the way, nice house. A little too run down for my taste. But, whatever sinks your boat, as they say.

The other one was a picture. It was a long-distance photo of Wednesday standing outside the family car, looking up at the manor. The whole house in view, snow falling around her, and Wednesday standing in the middle, looking up at the house.

Upon seeing the picture, Wednesday immediately stood up and opened the window next to her desk. She stuck her head out and looked into the forest and driveway. Her face shifted into her near-constant glare, her teeth clenched, her face stiffening, and her nose flared in anger. She looked out at the trees, trying to see if she could catch a glimpse of something, anything before it was too late.

Not seeing anything she took a step backward, bringing her head back into the room. Her face was slightly reddened by her frustration and by the cold air that her head was in. Her glare not dropping, she moved back to her desk, as another text came through.

My Stalker: You’re too late, by the way. I won’t be spotted today. But, to satisfy your urge to know… Look up.

Wednesday read it before leaning to the right, looking up and out the window. She looked around before hearing a buzzing noise. She looked towards the sound and saw a very small drone in the distance above the tree line.

It did a circle in the air. Presumably to say, ‘I’m right here’. It then faced her again, flashed a light on her and zoomed away. As she glared out towards where it was, her phone buzzed again with each new text.

My Stalker: Don’t worry, I promise to keep this relationship more personal. I only used the drone to send a message.

My Stalker: I will try not to use it too much. I don’t want to ruin what we have, Wednesday.

My Stalker: So, I hope you can forgive this… little intrusion, with the drone. But it was a necessary evil. I typically like to keep things a little more low-tech.

My Stalker: I find the technology to be rather unreliable and not as useful as a more traditional relationship. I have a certain disdain for most over-the-top technology.

My Stalker: But, this is the modern age after all. For now, we might as well make the most of what we have. Before it’s all… gone.

Wednesday thought about sending a message back, as she read the messages come through. But decided against it, she didn’t know what this stalker wanted or what they knew about her. So she decided not to give this person any more information than they already had.

As she read the text, she was experiencing something unusual. She was angry, but there was something else. Not fear, but, nervousness, anxiety, anticipation? She was unsure, but she chose not to dwell on the feelings for too long.

As she looked at the phone, wondering about the stalker and the messages, she remembered the text from Enid. Rereading the text from her, Wednesday decided to send a small message to Enid. Hoping that it was good enough to placate the girl. To not have the anger for not telling Enid when she had arrived home safely.

Wednesday: I have arrived at my residence without harm. I await your message of the same.

Moving back to the present, she spent a few minutes finishing up her room. Then, she sat on her bay window bench, on the other side of her room from the desk, near the foot of her bed. Staring out the window at the sky, watching the light snowfall and planes leaving marks through the sparse clouds.

Half an hour passed, watching the sky shift and change with clouds and the planes in the air. It gradually became clearer, as the clouds faded away.

Then her mother came to her door and knocked on it, saying. “Wednesday, my little demon, dinner is almost done. Are you coming down?”

Wednesday turned her head towards the intrusion. She was not feeling particularly hungry at that moment. But she figured that her family had not had a meal with her in months. At least not one without a police interruption.

So she bit the inside of her cheek and stiffly stated. “I will be down in fifteen minutes, Mother.” After a confirmation from Morticia, Wednesday heard her mother walk away.

Wednesday looked away from the door and at the bench she was sitting on. She saw the new phone. As she was about to grab it and put it away, the phone buzzed multiple times in a row.

Wednesday turned on the phone, going to the texting app. She opened it to see Enid’s reply to Wednesday’s earlier message.

6:15 PM — Enid Sinclair: I just got on the first plane at Burlington International!!??

Enid Sinclair: The stupid plane took forever to get ready!

Enid Sinclair: I should be home in about 10-12 hours maybe I hope unless there’s more delays.

Enid Sinclair: I mean I know it’s almost Christmas but seriously it happens every year so they should know how to make all the planes work.

Enid Sinclair: ugh stupid airplane delays Hope you're having a better day bestie

Enid Sinclair: I’ll text ya tomorrow. (Heart emoji)(Plane emoji)

Wednesday read it slowly, as the sentences were a little grammatically incorrect with nearly no punctuation. Trying to understand exactly everything that was sent. She would need to teach Enid proper sentence structure and punctuation, eventually. But, that was for another day, she typed back a simple reply.

Wednesday: It is unfortunate that you are dealing with these issues. I await your message, once you are home.

Wednesday felt that was an appropriate response. So she stood up and walked back over to the desk and set the phone down. Putting it on the new ‘wireless’ charger that Xavier included with the phone, inside the box. She had plugged it into the same outlet with her desk lamp while putting her items away. It lit up, showing that the phone was charging.

She nodded to herself, in a sense of accomplishment, before walking over to her dresser at the foot of her bed. Pulling out the clothes that she wanted to change into, getting out of her Nevermore uniform. She then made her way to the bathroom at the end of the hallway, and shut the door behind her.

She walked down the hallway, passing three rooms before stopping at the end of the hallway, where the bathroom was. She opened the door and stepped inside, closing the door behind her she stepped up to the sink. Looking at her uniform in the mirror for a moment before she began to change her clothes. She brushed her teeth, washed her hands, and made sure she was ready for the, likely uncomfortable, dinner with her family.

Wednesday stood at the sink, staring at herself in the mirror for a few moments. She glanced down at her stomach and lifted the shirt she had just put on. Lifting the shirt just enough to see her newest nice-looking scar. It was about four to five inches long, up and down. At a slight tilt to the left, next to, and slightly above, her belly button. Almost diagonal across her stomach, nearly touching the belly button.

She ran her fingers over it, partially expecting to feel the pain that she remembered from that night. However, she didn’t feel the pain from the blade. It was a different feeling altogether. It felt as if it was rubbed raw, along the scar. An unusual physical sensation of a sensitive nature. It felt as if it was a type of rope burn that filled in the blade wound.

She also felt a weird sensation when pressing on the area. It felt like it had pushed out the flesh surrounding it. As if the wound was filled in with scar tissue. With the scar tissue filling up the hole left behind, by the knife, pressing against the flesh around it. Like filling a balloon with air while your hand holds the balloon, trying to stop its growth.

The area also felt as if it was empty at the same time. Like it was a container, with the walls pressed against the flesh around it, but empty in the middle. She has had multiple scars in her life, none of them had felt like this one.

On the night of the Blood Moon, Goody Addams had used her supernatural powers to heal Wednesday. However, she wasn’t able to heal her fully. The healing that she was able to do, also wasn’t able to carry over to the wounds and abuse she had received after the fact, during her fight with the Hyde and Crackstone.

Goody did a decent job healing her before the battle with Joseph Crackstone. The EMTs only needed to do a couple of stitches after the fact. There were a few on her head, several on her left shoulder, and a couple on her stomach and back. Except for the shoulder, they were mostly superficial cuts.

Having an arrow shot into your shoulder by an arcane, supernatural, telekinesis-wielding, power-hungry, undead, bigoted, pilgrim, brought back from the dead, does a little bit of damage to one’s body. Along with the arcane power-wave of energy that he used to hold her down and crush her several times. That abuse had ended up cracking two of her ribs and bruising a couple as well.

Luckily there was no extensive internal damage. Apart from the cracked and bruised ribs, a bruised trachea, the arrow wound, and a few other cuts, scratches, and bruises, she was mostly healthy. The laceration was mostly healed, and all there was, was a deep scar. The rest of the wounds would have to heal naturally. And not by an apparition of her dead ancestor on the night of a Super-Blood-Moon.

Even still, she was thankful that she hadn’t needed to go to the hospital that night. As neither Enid nor Wednesday had wanted to go. So they got patched up by the EMTs and spent the night with each other and a first aid kit for the rest of the injuries. The next day they were, unfortunately, forced to go, by the remaining school faculty.

So, they went to the Jericho hospital and were tested, questioned, and poked and prodded, for hours. Until they were told that they were lucky to be alive and that they needed to heal, but were doing ok. After that, they were sent back to Nevermore.

Wednesday was brought out of the memories, of that night, by the sound of her father yelling. “Wednesday, Pugsley! Dinner time!”

Wednesday fixed her shirt and walked out of the bathroom with the clothes she was previously wearing. She set the clothes in her laundry basket, inside her room, made her way down the hallway, and walked down the stairs. She walked through the living room and into the dining room.

As she entered the dining room she glanced at her family in there with her and she moved towards the table. Sitting down at the table, she was greeted by her family. None of which Wednesday was particularly fond of responding to at the moment. So in response, she nodded at them and moved her utensils and dinnerware into their proper places in front of her.

She kept her head down and peered up at the people sitting at the dining table with her. Her typical glare settled on her face, as Wednesday looked at each one of them. She watched as they got their dinnerware set properly and fixed their napkins.

After a moment, Lurch came in with dinner and began serving it to them. Went around the table, setting each of their plates down in front of them. Wednesday listened to the clatter of glass, and ‘Thank you Lurch’ coming from each of them as he made his way around the table.

She also thanked Lurch as he set the plate of food down on the table in front of her. Once their plates were set, they all thanked Lurch once more and began to eat. Wednesday picked at the food and ate only what looked the most appetizing to her at the moment.

Once they were a couple of minutes into eating, Gomez directed a question at his daughter. “So, Wednesday, have you given any thought on if you’ll return to Nevermore, next semester?”

Morticia gave a little hiss and glared at Gomez before stiffly stating, “Gomez, She just got home. After the horrible events that transpired, she needs time to work through her feelings and time to decide.”

Wednesday glared at them both, before speaking. “Do not speak for me, Mother. And Father, I will decide, when the time is closer, to choose whether I choose to go back to Nevermore. I am currently mulling it over. I would appreciate it if you do not ask again until the time is necessary.” She directed the statement at them both, with her eyes glaring back and forth between them.

They both nodded and went back to eating. Wednesday nodded once as well.

Wednesday spent the next several minutes cutting her food into mush. Not feeling particularly hungry.

Pugsley had tried to initiate a conversation with her, but she didn’t feel up to talking about whatever things he talked about. Wednesday told him as much. So, he decided to talk with his parents about it. Wednesday barely listened, picking at her food.

Her mind felt like it was underwater. The sounds muddled and her thoughts swam around. She felt nauseous and tired. The food in front of her was not helping either. A few attempts at conversation later, and Wednesday stood up. Being done with dinner and their company.

“This ritualistic mastication was not entirely displeasing. Thank Lurch for me. Until tomorrow.” She said before nodding goodbye at them and walking away from the table.

She walked away from the table, barely hearing her family’s various goodnights. She exited the dining room, walked down the hallway, and entered the living room at a pace that she didn’t usually walk. She almost tripped, on the hole in the floor, as she sped through the room.

She went through the living room and the foyer. Climbing the stairs, she could feel her body moving at a different pace than she thought she was moving. She passed Bruno and went down the hall to her room, entering it.

As soon as she closed the door to her room, she breathed out a loud sigh. Leaning back on the door, breathing in and out, deeply. The dinner with her family was more unbearable than she thought it would be. The talking, the chewing, the questions, and the looking at her. It was all more uncomfortable than she expected.

She shook her head, trying to shake out the feeling in her mind. Wednesday took several more breaths before standing up straight. She looked around the room trying to find something to distract herself. Her eyes passed over the room, searching. Eventually, her eyes rested on her desk.

Wednesday walked over to her desk and sat down in the chair. Glancing over the items on the desk, she noticed her new phone again. She reached over and picked it up. Checking the text app, to see if she had received any messages. Wondering if Enid had messaged her while she was eating dinner. Opening her phone, she tapped Enid’s name, only having one new text from Enid.

6:35 PM — Enid Sinclair: OK whatever you say , Shakespeare. TTYL!

She read it and felt a little bit perturbed that she still didn’t know what ‘ttyl’ was. Or why it was in capital letters this time. She made a mental note to find out what it was, at a later time.

Wednesday set the phone down, back on its charger, and looked out the window, like she did earlier. Seeing the fading colors of the sky. She moved over to the bay window bench and sat down. Staring out of it, much like she had done earlier.

Except, this time, she decided to climb out of it and onto the roof. Opening the window, she stepped out onto the ledge right outside. She grabbed the windowsill, leaned out to the right, and swung her left foot far enough to hit the roof edge.

She rested her foot on the rooftop and the rest of her body followed suit, swinging out onto the rooftop. Safely on the rooftop, Wednesday walked away from the edge. She moved towards the flattest part of the roof and dusted off the snow from where she wanted to sit.

Once she had cleared a spot, she sat down. Bringing her knees to her chest, wrapping her arms around her legs, and intertwining her fingers together. She set her chin on top of her knees and focused her eyes on the sky. The sun was completely down at this point. She stared out, seeing the last remnants of the earlier sunset. All that was left, was a little sliver of light and color infecting the remaining clouds. She sat there in silence as she watched the sky change from dim color to faded color. Before quickly settling on black.

Her eyes gazed out into the night. With the stars filling the sky. Along with streaks of blinking lights, from planes and satellites. Watching them move through the sky, blurring through the atmosphere and muddled with the last remaining visible clouds.

Her favorite time of day has always been nighttime. But, it felt more empty, this time, than it did before. Sitting there in the dark, the cold. All alone. Previously, she could watch the stars for hours, feeling a sense of calm wash over her. Being able to let the thoughts run through her head without distractions. Typically she would just ignore them unless they were helpful. It was how she came up with most of her best ideas. The idea for her current novel came to her while looking out into the night sky.

But now, her head is just as full. Except, there’s less coherence to it. The thoughts bounced around loudly. Making her feel like she was going crazy. She could hear noises and people talking. None of it was real, but it felt as if the voices were coming out from the darkness of the night. There were dozens of people talking all at once. As if she was surrounded by a crowd. Except she couldn’t make out what any of them were saying. It was all muffled and mixed, running through her head.

The nausea in her stomach had not gone away. It now felt like fire mixing with ice. Swirling with a sensation she was sure she had never felt before. She felt dizzy and that wasn’t helping her nausea in any way.

Her heart felt like it was disconnected from her, yet she could still feel it beating, hear it beating. Beating harder than normal, bouncing inside of her torso. Like it was floating in her chest cavity, free from its connections to her arteries and veins. No longer a part of her vascular system.

Wednesday was unsure of what she was feeling. The sensations in her stomach and chest were rising. The thoughts and noises were starting to give her a headache. The main noises running through her head were centered around the last two weeks. More specifically, that night. The night under the blood moon.

She closed her eyes, tightly. Trying to force her mind to quiet down. For the sounds and images to leave her alone. She tried to play a classical cello sonata in her head. Trying to use that to shut off the noise. Except it didn’t help. The noise continued, and her mind was just as full.

Everything that happened that night, went through her head a thousand times a minute. The sights and sounds flooded her mind. She watched it all, heard it all, felt it all. Everything that had happened was hitting her, over and over again.

Until she had enough of the thoughts. She needed something, but she wasn’t sure what. So she stood up and went back to the ledge next to her bedroom window. She climbed in just like she climbed out, and shut the window behind her.

Wednesday paced her room for several minutes trying to get her thoughts to stop. Trying to force the sensations in her chest and stomach to go away. Several minutes passed before she decided that she needed to go for a walk, outside of her room. She needed the visual stimulation to distract her.

She went to the dresser, pulled out a sweatshirt, and put on an oversized, black-and-white striped sweatshirt over her current shirt. Then she made her way downstairs. As silently as she could, Wednesday snuck out of the house. Once she had fully stepped outside, she saw her breath fog out in front of her. The temperature had dropped quickly in the last half-hour.

The second she was out the front door, she began walking away from the house. She just started walking, in no particular direction. Just trying to get her mind to quiet down and distract her body from the weird feelings in her chest.

As she walked, she could feel the thoughts and feelings getting better, but not good enough. As soon as she focused on them, they started getting worse. Her vision was clouded, and her mind was too distracted, so she started to breathe heavily. She didn’t want to admit it, but she was having a panic attack.

So Wednesday began to run. Towards what, she didn’t know. She just ran, hoping that it would distract her even more. It started working, as she could no longer hear the crowd. All she could hear was her heart beating and the snow crunching on the ground beneath her feet. She tried to rationalize the situation by thinking that it was residual side effects from Goody. Or maybe the aftermath from Crackstone’s magic. That’s what she chose to believe. For the moment.

Wednesday continued to run, not focusing on where she was going. She wasn’t aware of her faculties or her surroundings. The trees passed by as she ran, before shifting from a forest into tombstones. The minutes passed by in a blur. Wednesday wasn’t sure how much time she was out there, in the cold.

Eventually, she ended up at a place that she was very familiar with. This is the place that she would go to, whenever she needed a break from things. Or as a place to get away from family events, to get space that she desperately needed.

She slowly came to a stop, as the stone building appeared before her. Her cloudy vision cleared as her eyes focused on the place in front of her. Her panicked, short breaths shifted into slower, deep breaths. Wednesday looked up at the building, wondering how she had arrived there on accident. She must have subconsciously run there as a way to comfort herself.

The biggest mausoleum in their family cemetery has been the place that she’s run to for years. Every time her parents were too overbearing, when they were too unbearable to be around. When something a person had said something to her and she needed a place to think of revenge. A quiet place for her to do her homework. Or a place to just sit in silent solitude. This place had always comforted her. It was the last place that she had cried, until her time at Nevermore.

Wednesday walked towards the mausoleum and opened the large bronze door slightly, before slipping in. She looked around the empty tomb, bar for the sarcophagus in the center. It was rather dark, the only light coming from the moon. Shining through the glass skylight in the ceiling. Wednesday stepped fully in and looked around before walking over to the stone coffin. She climbed up onto the stone sarcophagus, sitting with her legs crossed.

This mausoleum belonged to her great, great grandmother, Countess Penumbra Addams. She died by a stake to the heart and then her body was thrown into fire. The townsfolk had mistakenly thought she was a vampire. She was however a witch, so, they weren’t completely wrong.

There wasn’t much left of Penumbra Addams’ body. But her remains were sent here after she had died. And the mausoleum was erected in her honor. The remainder of her body was stored within the sarcophagus that Wednesday now sat on top of.

The raven-haired girl always found solace in this mausoleum. It was as if the stone walls protected her from thoughts and feelings. Covering her in a protective blanket, so to speak. Keeping her safe from her troubles and worries. At least the ones that she didn’t want to have.

Penumbra was a witch, so there might have been a spell put on the mausoleum. Wednesday didn’t know, nor did she care. The only thing she cared about at the moment, was that it was comforting. To be protected from her thoughts. For the time being, that is. She very much disliked being comforted by such things. She typically preferred to deal with it herself. Not wanting to rely on items, places, or people for her relief and comfort. But, she didn’t have the energy to fight it this night.

While sitting there, Wednesday speculated about what had caused the situation that she had found herself in. The only conclusion that she could come to, was that it was because of Goody or Crackstone. Whether that was a weak hypothesis or not, she didn’t care at the time.

She sat on the cover of the sarcophagus, tracing the outline of the designs carved into the stone. Eventually, she laid down and looked up. Staring through the glass skylight, in the roof of the mausoleum. It has always served as a way to let her know when she was gone for too long. So that she could return before her parents needed to come looking for her.

Lying down on the cool stone, watching the stars, she could feel all of her thoughts slowing down. They had almost stopped, moving slowly, one at a time. As if waiting their turn in line. The sensations in her torso also seemed to disappear. Her heart rate beating normally, feeling like it was connected to her again. No longer floating around.

By the time she felt content enough to go to sleep for the night, the position of the moon appeared to be around midnight. Wednesday decided that she should probably go to sleep in her actual bed. So she got up and started the walk back to the house. The cold nipped at her face as she stepped out of the mausoleum, her breath billowing out in a fog, from her mouth. She shut the large door behind her and set out towards the house. Walking through the family cemetery, like she had done many times in her life.

The icy snow on the ground crunched under her feet, as she walked back to the house. She put her arms in her pockets to keep them warm. Keeping her eyes glued to the ground, only thinking about walking to the house. Not wanting to trigger another one of the events that brought her out here, to begin with.

As she made her way towards the house she could feel the cold seeping through her clothes. She never had a problem with the cold before, but tonight it felt harsh. She rather enjoyed the feeling. It kept her mind and body distracted.

As soon as she reached the house, she snuck her way back into the house and to her room, without making a sound. Careful to not make a noise. Not wanting to wake her family and garner any unnecessary attention.

She entered the bedroom and took off the dark sweatshirt, folding it and setting it on the top of her dresser. Wednesday rummaged through the dresser, once more. She rifled through the drawers for the pajamas that she wanted to wear. Once she had found the right ones, she went to the bathroom. Walking down the hallway, as silently as possible. She entered the bathroom, brushed her teeth, changed her clothes, and finished with her nightly routine. She then made her way back to her room with the clothes, folded them, and set them on top of her dresser, for her to wear tomorrow.

Wednesday walked over to her desk, pushing her chair back in. She clicked off the desk lamp and her eyes passed over the new phone. Something she had, once again, forgot about. Wanting to check it one last time, she reached for it. She tapped on the phone for the final time, that night. It lit up, showing no messages. Wednesday read the screen and looked at the time.

‘11:34 pm’

‘It is late enough. I think it is time to go to sleep.’ The girl thought to herself.

Taking her own advice, Wednesday turned towards her bed and walked over to it. Making sure that she had put her bed together correctly, Wednesday climbed onto the covered mattress. Fixing the blanket properly, Wednesday crossed her arms over her chest and fell into the dark void of sleep.

X______________________________X

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Heavy breathing.

That’s all she could hear.

It was almost like repeating gasps.

As if she was trying to fill her lungs with air that would not come.

Suddenly, leaves and dirt came across her vision in flashes.

Like pictures, taken with an old analog camera.

The breathing continued, without ceasing its grip on her ears.

Except, now there was growling and grunting.

The heavy breathing. More, and more.

Louder and louder.

A bright flash of light blinded her vision.

BANG!!

She heard the sound of a gunshot. As loud as thunder. As sharp as a knife through her ears.

It hurt.

The flash of light returned, except this time it was two.

BANG!! BANG!!

Two more gunshots rang out. Equally as loud as the first.

More ringing in her ears, the pain not going away.

Growling and grunting, it was all getting louder.

The snapping of branches in a forest.

Then… nothing.

Her vision was now covered in a void of darkness…

Surrounding her, was a presence settled in the dark void.

She could hear nothing but the gasping breaths.

And then she heard it…

Out of nowhere , there came a woman’s blood-curdling, excruciatingly painful scream ringing out through the air.

“Aaaahhhhhhh”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

X______________________________X

Wednesday awoke with a jolt. Gasping, she sat upward faster than lightning. Pulling out a blade from her sleeve she brandished the weapon. Holding the base of it, in front of her, hoping to attack whoever was there. Her eyes darted around her room, looking for an intruder. Once she realized that it was a very encompassing nightmare, she returned the blade to where it belonged. She rubbed her eyes, feeling wetness. With her senses recalibrating to their awakened state, she took stock of her body.

Sweat covered her, her nightshirt was soaked through. Her hair sticking to her face, all stringy and knotted. She forgot to take her braids out before she went to sleep the previous night. Now they were twisted, loose, and knotted in places.

‘I need a shower now.’ She thought to herself.

The dream coming to the front of her mind, she sat forward, confused. With her head in her hands, she looked down. At that moment she realized that at some point in the night, she had fallen off the bed. She was now sitting on the floor of her bedroom. The hardwood shone with sweat. She sighed, grateful that it was just the floor that got wet and not her bed.

Wednesday glanced up, looking at her blanket, pleased that she didn’t pull it down with her during the night. She glared at her clothes, annoyed at having to take a shower. She didn’t feel like taking one, but the feeling of the sticky sweat was more severe than the feeling of not wanting to take one.

Wednesday sighed one more time before standing up. She went to her closet and grabbed two towels, lying one on the ground where she had spent most of the night. She wiped it up and threw the used towel into the laundry hamper that was in her room.

Holding the other towel, she gathered the various clothing and any items she would need to take a shower, that wasn’t already in the bathroom.

She walked to her desk, holding the items, and looked out her window to see the sun just barely risen into the sky. Wondering what time it was, she looked at the clock on her desk, seeing it wasn’t set, and noticed the new phone sitting next to it.

Wednesday reached down picked up the device and tapped the screen. Seeing the time, ‘6:58 AM’. She looked down at the screen, below the time, to see a large amount of text notification banners on the lock screen. Several from Enid, a few from her stalker, and several from unknowns.

Wednesday was curious about who the unknowns were, but decided that she needed to take a shower first. Before looking through the texts. She set the phone down back on the charger and turned around, walking out of her room. She moved to the bathroom quietly, as she still didn’t want to awaken her family.

Entering the bathroom, she locked the door behind her. She went to the vanity countertop and set down the things that she brought in with her. She looked at the state of her clothes and scoffed at the sight.

Her shirt was ruffled and crinkled, darkened by sweat. Her pants were twisted, ruffled, crinkled, and darkened by the sweat as well. It looked like she had been thrown into an active washing machine for the whole night. She glared at the sight. Before moving on to taking the offending clothes off as soon as she could.

But first, Wednesday looked at herself in the mirror once more. Seeing the state of her hair, she angrily huffed at the sight. Forgetting to take her hair out of the braids was a mistake. The knots and stringy-wet hair all over her head. Her braids came undone in spots and knotted in others. With strands of her bangs stuck to her forehead in clumps.

She stepped closer to the mirror, picked up her hairbrush, and set it on the edge of the sink in front of her. She began to untangle the mess with her hands. She took the elastic hairbands off of the end of the braids and began untangling them.

Wednesday grunted while brushing at the tight knots, with her fingers. Frustrated, she worked to undo it all. After a couple of minutes of working on getting the hair undone, she picked up her hairbrush and started brushing it out. She glared at the hair like it would cower under her gaze.

The raven-black locks parted for the brush, the knots coming undone. Wednesday brushed it out for a minute or two. Until she was satisfied with the state of the hair. Brushed enough to shower, at least. She set the hairbrush down and looked at herself in the mirror again. Checking to see if she was ready for the shower.

Other than removing the clothes, she was done. The raven-haired girl quickly shed the disgusting clothes. Relieved to be rid of them. Depositing them in one of the two sinks in the vanity, for now. She looked back up into the mirror, her scars catching her eye.

Looking at each scar, wound, and bruise from that night. Showing the visual representation of the events she went through. The events that occurred during the blood moon. She twisted her body around, back and forth. Looked at the bruises on her sides, the ones around her clavicle, the faint bruise around her neck. Wednesday ran her fingers over the scar and cuts on her stomach and the stitched wound on her left shoulder.

After a moment she looked up at her face. Seeing something different in her eyes, she leaned closer to the mirror. Looking for movement, or a swirl of energy… something. After a moment, she gave up. She huffed, turned around, and turned on the shower. Setting it to the hottest setting.

She waited for the shower to heat up before she stepped in. Wednesday began washing off all of the last few days. It felt good to have the near-scalding water run over her skin. She typically despised hot showers, opting for just warm ones. But this time, she wanted the heat. Wanted it to burn, to clean her fully.

She stood in the heat for longer than necessary, just wanting to bask in it. Like a lizard in the sun. To feel the warmth that she would rarely get. After there was no more heat to be basked in, and she had cleaned her body and hair, Wednesday got out and dried herself off. Changing into black undergarments along with long, pitch-black, baggy sweatpants, and an oversized black sweatshirt. It used to be Uncle Fester’s. Until he gave it to her when she was 8 years old. It quickly became her favorite sweatshirt after that.

The garment had some obscure sports name on it, from Jamaica. With white, red, and yellow colors. He won it in a duel with a Jamaican government official. Surprisingly, the duel wasn’t to the death. They dueled by playing chess. Uncle Fester had only won because Thing was there with him. Pretending to be Fester’s actual hand, winning the game, and earning multiple things. Including the sweatshirt she was now wearing.

Thinking about that, had reminded her about Thing. Wednesday noted that she hadn’t seen Thing once they had exited the car yesterday. Neither was he at dinner last night. She thought about looking for him, later in the day. Unless he ended up finding her before then.

Wednesday decided to focus on that at a later time. She collected the dirty clothes and the other items that didn’t belong in the bathroom and made her way back to her bedroom. Silently moving through the hallway and into her bedroom, closing the door behind her.

She deposited the dirty clothes into the rapidly filling laundry basket. Putting away the other items she had as well. Wednesday then went over to her desk. Sitting in the chair she swiveled around fully facing the desk. She reached for the phone, ready to read the texts that she had noticed earlier. She had about a dozen of them to read. So she began with her stalker.

6:00 AM — My Stalker: Bad morning! I hope you had terrible nightmares. It is quite cold today. So remember to dress appropriately.

My Stalker: I wouldn’t want you to die of a cold. That would be a very uninspired way to die, don’t you think? Hardly fitting for someone such as you, correct?

Wednesday read the message and found herself agreeing with this person. That it would be a pitiful death. She was disturbed, slightly, by his speech pattern. It appeared to be altered to be acceptable to her type of behavior.

‘It is probably a way of tricking me into letting down my guard.’ Wednesday concluded to herself before continuing on with the rest of the messages.

My stalker: Might I say, going for a run that late at night, is not a very smart thing to do. You could have been hurt.

My stalker: Or worse.

My Stalker: Who knows what’s out there ? Around any corner, behind any tree?

My Stalker: I have to go now, I have some things I need to do. I hope you have a terrible day. Don’t worry though, I am still watching.

She read the messages twice, trying to see if the wording would give any hints about the identity of the stalker. The speech pattern, the wording, the use of specific phrases. However, she couldn’t figure out a link to anyone that she currently knew. She was relatively sure that this stalker was someone that she did not know. At least not personally.

She thought about the messages for a few more minutes. Rereading them, wondering if there was a clue within the messages somewhere. She read them again and decided to write down everything that she knew. To connect any dots that she could come up with.

She reached down and pulled open a drawer of the desk. She rummaged through it for a moment. Looking for an empty notebook, to write it all down in. To get all of the information from her head, onto some paper. She was hoping that writing it all down would help.

Once she found an acceptable notebook, she grabbed a pencil and began writing the messages down, hoping to notice some pattern, or puzzle in the words. On the side of each written message, she wrote small notes that she had thought about when reading the messages. She spent a good twenty minutes reading, writing, and thinking it through.

Unfortunately, she couldn’t glean any extra information from the messages.

Using the words in various codexes didn’t yield anything either. She also tried every cipher that she could come up with, off the top of her head. She concluded that the messages didn’t have any puzzles to them. At least, not one that she could figure out at the moment.

Wednesday slammed the pencil down onto the desk and huffed in frustration. Annoyed at the lack of context and extra information about her stalker. She preferred to be the one with more information than others. But now, she was the one at the disadvantage. Which was something she was not very happy about.

Wednesday decided that she needed to move on, or else she would end up wasting all of her time on this problem. So she continued on, putting the Stalker journal and pencil into the top desk drawer and picking up the phone once again. She was ready to read the other texts and distract herself, ignoring the stalker for now. Before continuing, she changed the name of the contact from, ‘My Stalker’, to just ‘Stalker’. Making it more streamlined and easier.

She read the list of notifications and chose to read the two texts from someone who already had their contact information on the phone.

6:35 AM — Xavier Thorpe: Hey, this is Xavier. As you can probably tell by the contact name.

Xavier Thorpe: I was just texting to see if you lived. If you made it home, or if you died by lightning/a car crash or something… Anyways, Let me know.

The end of the message was followed by an emoji of a hand waving, a car, and a lightning bolt.

She read the messages and rolled her eyes. She still didn’t understand his fascination with her. She even told him as much, going as far as to say that he shouldn’t expect her to call. He mentioned texting him, but she never said that she would. She decided to send one back anyway, hoping that would stop him from texting her for a while.

7:22 AM — Wednesday: Hello Xavier, I have not exited this mortal plane as of yet.

She hoped that it was enough to satisfy his desire for contact, for the time being. As she did not want to talk with him at that current moment. Luckily he appeared to be content with the message as he quickly sent a reply in the form of a thumbs-up.

Wednesday wanted the insipid little picture to, hopefully, be the only message from him for a while. She waited a moment more, to see if he would send anything else. When he didn’t, Wednesday moved on to the other messages, reading the notification banners and seeing two unknowns. She chose to read the earliest set. Changing the contact information of the person to reflect who they stated that they were, before reading past the first text.

7:04 AM — Eugene: Hello fellow hummer! This is Eugene. Enid texted me your number and I thought I’d text you to let you know that this is my number. If you ever want to talk, I’m here.

Eugene: Whether it’s about bees, or if you have another monster to catch/a murder to solve, I’m here to help, or talk.

Wednesday read the texts and thought about what to send to him. Not being used to talking with people. Especially because it was over text. Something that Wednesday had never done, until yesterday. She thought about her reply for a moment before writing one out and sending a reply.

7:40 AM — Wednesday: Hello, fellow Hummer. It is acceptable to talk with you, on occasion. It will likely help in the transition process when we arrive at Nevermore once again. However, I will not guarantee a speedy reply to any messages that you send me.

His reply didn’t come right away, like Xavier’s. So Wednesday moved to the last unknown text in her notifications.

7:00 AM —Unknown: Hello, this is the Nevermore Academy Faculty. This message has been sent to all current students, and parents/guardians of current Nevermore students. This message should not be replied to.

We would like to issue a formal apology.

For everything that has transpired during this most recent semester. We want to assure students, and their parents, that this situation will never happen again.

While we were unaware of most of what happened until it was too late. We will strive to make the next school year safe, relatively uneventful, and as exciting as we can make it.

We hope we haven’t lost any students from coming back to Nevermore. However, we do not blame you, or your parents/guardians, if you choose to not come next school semester.

We will spend this time, working endlessly, to make sure that Nevermore will never again have another situation like what had happened. Hopefully, we can build a better school. And a better experience for every student.

We are striving to bring Nevermore Academy back to its full operational system before the winter break ends. However, it is looking as if we will not have enough time to fix the situation that has been left behind.

We will, however, be fully operational by the next school year, beginning in August. We hope that every one of you returns to Nevermore’s beautiful walls, and take part in the exciting changes we will be making.

By the time you arrive in August, we will have implemented several alterations to the curriculum. Changes that we hope are better for everyone involved. We will message you more about the changes when it gets closer to the next semester. Whether that semester is in January or August. We hope to see you all again, Happy Holidays.

Thank you for your understanding, and your time. If you have anything you wish to discuss, please email us at: [email protected]

Thank you again, and we leave our most heartfelt apologies to each one of you. Have a great winter break, goodbye. — Best wishes and Happy Holidays: Nevermore Academy Faculty.

Wednesday rolled her eyes at the unnecessary and extensive apologies from the faculty. If anything, they should be the ones being apologized to. The faculty took the most amount of damage, death, and injury during that night, compared to the student body.

By the time the students were sent home, there were only two or three teachers still alive/not in the ICU. Even still, it was the school’s responsibility to protect the student body and they didn’t do that. Wednesday was the one that had to do it. Unfortunately, she had arrived too late to save the twenty or so people who died and were injured that night.

She didn’t want to dwell on those thoughts for too long, as it would probably reinitiate the effects from last night. Wednesday did not want to think about it again. So she shifted her focus away from those thoughts and back to the text from the Nevermore faculty.

The message from Nevermore appeared to be very similar to the letter, email, and phone call that they had sent to every Nevermore family. Regarding the events that happened during the blood moon. She wasn’t surprised that it had been sent. But it was unusual that the message had been sent to her.

“Exactly how many people did Xavier send this cellular telephone number to?” She questioned out loud, to herself.

Wednesday ignored the thought for the time being, and she changed the contact information for Nevermore. Then she went to the last of the messages that was sent to her that day. All of them were sent by Enid.

The first message was an album’s worth of pictures. Wednesday looked at each one, bundled together on the screen. She could barely see them, so she squinted and brought the phone closer to her face. Scanning over the pictures, it was hard to see them all.

Wednesday huffed at the phone, annoyed by the unusual design. She thought about it and figured that there must be a way to see the fullness of each photo. So Wednesday touched the photos and held them down. That brought up a menu, asking her what she wanted to do with the photos.

Wednesday read through all of the options, a bit overwhelmed by the device. She realized that the menu couldn’t be the way to see the full pictures. But she read the options anyway, making sure.

After realizing that it must have been the wrong way to do it, Wednesday tapped the edge of her screen. Removing the menu that was plaguing her. The Addams girl decided that she wouldn’t be defeated by this device prematurely.

So Wednesday tried swiping at the photos. That proved useless, so she tried speaking to the phone to open the photos. But that was unsuccessful as well. Then, Wednesday tapped at them in anger. When that opened the first picture, Wednesday almost exclaimed in victory over the piece of technology.

With a proud smirk on her face, Wednesday looked at the pictures one by one. At first, she thought that she needed to tap on each picture to look at it before she accidentally swiped to the side of one of them. Finally figuring out the photo situation, Wednesday looked at each picture

The first few were of the blonde, in an airplane seat, with a pillow around her neck and partially covered in jackets or blankets. Her blonde locks were all over the place, ruffled up and out, some of them looking knotted. The fading pinks and blues covered parts of her face. It appeared as if the photo was taken by the person sitting next to her.

The next several pictures were self-taken. The first one had Enid by the window, the sun shining through her hair. She smiled widely, showing her teeth and squinted eyes. With the light from the sun shining on her hair and face. Almost like a halo around her head. She had the plane’s wing behind her, in the photo. With the sky being mostly full of clouds.

The next couple of pictures were very similar. One with Enid smiling wide, next to her father, looking at the camera. Her father squeezed into the picture, with his reddish-gray beard and mustache, parted by his smile. Enid held a peace sign in front of her smiling face.

One of the pictures was just Enid, sitting in her seat, smiling with some hand signal that Wednesday did not recognize. Enid was still covered in the jackets/blankets. Then there was one with her face puffed up, like she was holding her breath, for some reason. Looking at the camera with a shimmer of light in her eyes. Wednesday assumed that it was coming from the sun, through the airplane window closest to her.

The last photo with Enid in it was Enid in the airplane bathroom, frowning, with furrowed eyebrows. Her hair was a mess, sticking up and out, with a few knotted parts. The picture was taken in front of a mirror, with words written on the picture.

‘Bedhead is bad. But bedhead on an airplane? Even worse!’

The last pictures were all of the scenery during the flight. There were several pictures of the view out of the plane. Showing the cloudy sky, the sunrise, and the ground below. Even a couple from before the sun had come up. With the lights on the ground, shining bright.

Wednesday looked at all of the pictures, wondering why Enid had sent them all to her. Before concluding that it must have been a weird teenager thing. An unusual one, but Wednesday assumed it was normal. So she ignored the questions that she had about the teenage tradition.

Once Wednesday was done with the photos, she exited them and began to read the texts that she had received from Enid.

5:33 am — Enid Sinclair: I know you’re probably asleep but I wanted to send these pictures to you.

Enid Sinclair: I just landed. I gotta say, I kinda wish you were on the plane.

Enid Sinclair: It was kinda lonely, and I don’t know if you’ve ever flown. I just thought that it would be funny to see you at the security checkpoint. Lol

Enid Sinclair: And to see what you’re like during a flight? I’m sure you’d make headlines!

Enid Sinclair: You would probably force the air marshal to arrest you for some reason

Enid Sinclair: although you would probably enjoy the challenge of escaping the air marshal by the time the plane landed. lol

Enid Sinclair: and then we’d have to go on the run from the cops and end up doing some kind of Tom Cruise movie-type stuff.

Enid Sinclair: While that would be fun to think about maybe we should work our way up to that type of stuff and not just jump into it lol

Enid Sinclair: Well I’ll stop pestering you. I’ll let you know when I make it home. Bye bye!!

Wednesday read the whole one-sided conversation that the werewolf had sent and thought that maybe the girl was losing her mind. Wednesday hadn’t even responded and Enid and her had gone on a flight, got arrested, escaped, and did something with this Tom person. While Enid was probably correct, in how it would happen, it was still unusual.

She scoffed at the incredibly bizarre action by the other girl. Wednesday was still confused about how teenagers could do all of this messaging on a normal day. Now it included having full conversations with themselves about scenarios that probably would never have the potential to happen, in reality.

Wednesday shook her head in disbelief and continued reading the last of the messages from Enid.

7:22 am — Enid Sinclair: I made it home!!

Enid Sinclair: Finally… the traffic was nightmarish. And not the kind that you tend to like.

Enid Sinclair: I mean I live like 45 minutes from the airport with normal traffic and this time it took like an hour and a half.

Enid Sinclair: Stupid Christmas-time traffic.

Enid Sinclair: Anyway Have a great day Wednesday!! I think I’m going to go take a nap! Bye-Bye

The last message was followed by a series of emojis, a Wolf, some rainbows, two colored sparkles, a bed, several zzz emojis, and several colored hearts, ending in one black heart.

Wednesday debated with herself, on whether or not she should risk waking the girl with a reply. Wednesday looked at the pictures again and read the messages one more time. She decided to reply to the werewolf before she could think of reasons not to. After all, Enid was fine with possibly waking the dark-haired girl up. Wednesday assumed that she had an invitation to message back.

She sat at her desk typing out her reply for longer than she would like to admit. She was not used to this type of conversation. Or any at all really. But, Wednesday typed one out and sent it after checking for any mistakes.

7:48 AM — Wednesday: Hello Enid, thank you for alerting me of your arrival at your home. I hope I do not disturb you. Seeing as your cellular telephone has a switch to turn off all notification sounds, I will assume that this message will be acceptable.

I appreciate your thinking of me while making your trek home. I expect it wasn’t too much of a strain on you to endure. Seeing as you are able to still message me.

I will inform you that I do not understand the one-sided conversation that you had with ‘me’ while I was not accessible. I also have no recollection of this ‘Tom’ as I do not think I met him at any point while at Nevermore.

However, if you would like me to meet this person and fly with them, then you may alert me of the time and place. At that time, I will tell you of my availability for this adventure. I will most certainly enjoy eluding the police during this time. I appreciate the consideration for pastimes that I will enjoy.

Although, I have not flown before. So I am unsure of what to expect. Although, I may already be on the American no-fly list. I am unsure and will have to check.

May your rest come over you in a timely and reasonable manner. I will ‘ttyl’ to you at a later time.—Wednesday.

Even though she still did not know what it meant, she used the ‘ttyl’ in what she hoped was the correct context. Deducing from Enid’s texts on what it possibly meant.

She felt lighter after all of the phone-based socializing was over. And less troubled by the dream. Now that she had taken a shower and accomplished ‘speaking’ with others. She felt as if her socialization responsibilities for the day had been accomplished.

Wednesday set the phone down on the desk after looking at the time. It was only 8:00 AM. So she still had the entire day for things to do. But first, she needed to get some coffee before her parents awakened. She wasn’t in the mood to speak with them. Especially if they were gonna try and bring up the events that happened at Nevermore.

She stood up and stretched for a moment, feeling her muscles pull and stretch. Wednesday had sat in the chair for too long after her shower and needed to loosen up her muscles. After she was done, Wednesday made her way out of the bedroom as quietly as she could.

She passed by Bruno as she quietly made her way down the stairs. Careful not to make noise. She snuck through the foyer and living room with her usual grace and ninja-like prowess. Ever an Addams, being able to appear and disappear without a trace. Well, most of the time.

The girl made her way out of the living room and went down the hall towards the kitchen. As soon as she passed through the kitchen door, she was greeted by the towering form of the family butler, Lurch. Standing right inside the kitchen, as if he was waiting for Wednesday.

He was already holding a coffee cup, with a lid, in one hand and the coffee pot in the other. Anticipating her need for caffeine, he presented the cup to her. He looked down towards the girl, from his elevated position. He looked her in the face and smirked, before reaching down and handing her the cup. Groaning as he did.

Wednesday was surprised that he was there, but gently took the cup from him.

She looked up at him and admitted to him. “Thank you Lurch. I have missed your coffee. Nevermore, and the surrounding town of Jericho, had some decent coffee. But none of it compared to yours.”

He groaned as a thank you and turned around, setting the coffee pot down. She nodded at him and walked out of the kitchen. Once she was in the hall, she took a drink of the coffee and her lips turned up slightly. She had missed his coffee.

After that, Wednesday made her way up back to her room. On her way up the stairs, she was passed by a running Pugsley. He was hurriedly going down the stairs as fast as he could. Before running out of the house, leaving through the front door opening.

“Hi, Wednesday! Bye, Wednesday! I’m gonna be late for the bus!” He yelled out to his sister, loudly.

Wednesday watched as he ran out of the house. The girl stepped down the stairs to watch him run out of the front door he had left open. She saw as he ran down the driveway and caught the sight of him tripping and falling to the ground. The sight made her smirk in evil glee. After a second, Pugsley got up and immediately began running down the driveway once more.

After he was out of sight, Wednesday climbed the stairs and went down the second-floor hallway. Quietly, she entered her room without seeing any other family members. She shut the door behind her and took another drink of the hot coffee. Reveling in the heat, as it burned its way down her throat.

The raven sighed in contentment before walking over to her desk and sitting down in the chair. She wanted to begin working on writing out a synopsis for her next novel. It wasn’t hard for her to come up with an idea for one. Deciding on writing out what had happened to her, during the time she had spent at Nevermore. With a few embellishments to the story, of course.

Wednesday set the coffee down on the desk, off to the side, and pulled out her typewriter. She set it up fully, putting in the paper, resetting the typing mechanism, and she double checked that the ink ribbon had enough ink on it. Even if she had just changed it not that long ago, she wanted to make sure that it was all working correctly.

Once she had double-checked that everything was properly functioning, Wednesday leaned forward, set her arms down on the desk, lifted her hands to the typewriter, and started typing it all out.

X______________________________X

Several hours later, Wednesday was about one-third of the way through. Writing out the basic layout of everything that had happened while she was at Nevermore. She wasn’t ready to actually write out the story. Because she needed to lay out everything on paper before she could continue.

Wednesday sipped the last of the coffee and heard a buzzing sound emanate from the top of the desk. She looked up at the phone, feeling the desk vibrate. She saw the phone lit up as a message had come through. She set the empty coffee cup down before reaching for the phone and bringing it towards her, to look at the notification she had received.

She had been very engrossed in her writing. As she had several missed texts. There were a few from her Stalker and several from Enid. Wednesday glanced at the time shown on the screen. She had been writing for nearly four hours, as it was “12:08 PM”.

Wednesday opened the device and went to the text app, going to the tab from her Stalker. Before she read the texts, she opened a drawer in the desk and pulled out the journal and pencil that she had used earlier. When she wrote down all of the stalker's texts. She opened the journal and began reading the new texts.

12:00 PM — Stalker: Did you know, You look very calm when you write? But, I have to say, you are a little clueless about your surroundings when you do.

Stalker: Two birds flew by your window, screeching, chasing each other. You never looked up. About an hour ago, your servant, the hand, came in and is now lounging on your bed.

Stalker: It’s good to know how easy it is to sneak up on you. While you’re writing that is. You might want to be more careful, it won’t always be the hand.

Stalker: Anyway, hope you’re writing about me. Don’t forget to dress warm, I hear it’s going to feel as though hell has frozen over. Have a terrible day, my Raven.

The last message, from the Stalker, was three pictures. The first was a distance shot of her from the window, while she was writing. The second was a picture of the birds flying by. The last picture is zoomed-in and focused on Thing, opening the bedroom door.

At seeing the final picture, she turned around to see if he was still there. Looking over her shoulder, she saw Thing sitting on her bed using a magazine. He looked as if he was very bored. Wednesday turned back and reread the messages, before writing the new messages in the Stalker journal.

‘The language that this stalker is using, has to be deliberate.’ Wednesday hypothesized.

She looked at the phrases, that were used, very carefully. Writing them down in the journal. She also wrote down any thoughts that she had about the texts. While writing it all down, she realized that the stalker had mentioned that she was a Raven.

‘I have never told anyone, except for Enid and Thing, that I am a Raven. I didn’t even know what a Raven was until Mother told me several weeks ago. How could this person know?’ Wednesday wondered to herself.

She wrote off to the side, in the journal. ‘Knows that I am a Raven. Possible connection to my family or Nevermore. Only people I know, that know about my raven status: Mother, Possibly Father, Enid Sinclair, Thing, Principal Weems (Presumed Dead), Uncle Fester, Sheriff Galpin, and the Stalker.’

After she had written it down, she noticed it was entirely possible that one of these people had spoken about her being a raven, with someone else. That someone else was most likely her Stalker.

‘If none of these people told someone, then it is highly probable that a member of my own family is the stalker.’ Wednesday noted.

She thought through the hypothesis for a moment. But she eventually concluded that it was highly unlikely to be a member of her family. Her Father simply didn’t have the technological  knowledge, neither did her mother. However, out of the two of them, it was more plausible for it to be Morticia. But Wednesday set that thought aside and continued.

It clearly couldn’t be her brother. Thing lacked most of the necessary items and appendages to Stalk her. Uncle Fester disliked the boringness of being a long-term Stalker. And other family members were too scared of Wednesday to try it.

‘As they should be.’ Wednesday thought to herself.

She read over the list multiple times, trying to see if there was something about them that she was missing. But she couldn’t see anything pointing in a definite direction. The most obvious choice was Sheriff Galpin.

However, he wasn’t there for the pictures that were sent to her in the beginning. She assumed he could have had someone doing it for him. He was the Jericho Sheriff, he could have had any one of his deputies watching her during those times.

If there was one thing she had learned while at Nevermore, was that anything was possible. This stalker could be anyone or anything. Even someone that she didn’t know. The thought annoyed her. Especially if it was someone that she didn’t know. Which meant that she would have no starting point to track down the Stalker.

Her heart picked up in speed a little, thinking about all of the unanswered questions that she had. She huffed and dropped the phone onto the desk. Mostly in frustration that this Stalker knew more about her than she knew about the stalker. She felt apprehensive about the messages. Getting frustrated at the little to no information to be found within them.

Being unable to glean any more information out of the Stalker messages, Wednesday picked her phone back up and went to Enid’s tab. Reading the newest messages from the blonde.

11:16 AM — Enid Sinclair: No, you didn’t wake me.

Enid Sinclair: But I unfortunately just woke up. The nap wasn’t very long.

Enid Sinclair: I’m still super jetlagged though. All I want is to sleep longer ughhh

Enid Sinclair: Of course you would be on the no-fly list without ever even flying.

Enid Sinclair: You don’t know who Tom Cruise is? Your lack of social media and pop culture is frightening.

Enid Sinclair: Remind me later to tell you about who Tom Cruise is.

Enid Sinclair: anyways, have a fun day. Or… terrible?

Enid Sinclair: Evil?

Enid Sinclair: dark?

Enid Sinclair: Whatever you like. Or dislike? Idk bye bye!

12:06 PM — Enid Sinclair: OH! M! G! I was so super jet lagged that I didn’t even notice!

Enid Sinclair: You freaking used a texting lingo thingy! I’m so proud!! They grow up so fast!

Enid Sinclair: I mean you used it a little wrong but it’s the thought that counts. And we can teach you how to use it properly and how to use more

Enid Sinclair: Omg I’m so excited. Lol!

Her anger and frustration, about the Stalker, almost immediately went away as she read the messages. Her heart, however, kept its apprehensive and frustrated speedy pace. She ignored it for a moment and wrote out her reply.

12:16 pm — Wednesday: I appreciate the attempt at trying to use language to suit my particular disposition. However, you do not need to alter your speech patterns. If you do not wish to. It is perfectly acceptable for you to continue with your typical vocabulary.

Wednesday: As for the “texting lingo thingy” as you put it, I appreciate your acceptance of it. There is no guarantee that I will use it again. Nor will I commit to using it, or other ones, frequently.

It is unfortunate that your sleep was prematurely disrupted. May you find it within your power to get the rest you need.

Enid sent back a few heart emojis, as her reply.

Finally being done with the phone, Wednesday set it back down on the desk. She leaned back into the seat and sighed. Closing her eyes, she breathed in and out deeply and slowly. Her chest rose and fell in time with her breaths. Trying to calm her heart and stop any troublesome thoughts from coming back.

After a moment, Wednesday heard a paper ruffle from behind her. Remembering that Thing was in the room, she turned back around and saw him still on her bed. Looking as bored as ever, flipping through the pages of whatever random magazine he had found. She crossed her arms before addressing the hand.

“Hello Thing, I did not see you at dinner last night. You didn’t get into trouble without me, did you?” She asked him.

Thing paused and closed the magazine he was using. Once it was closed, he flung it across her mattress and answered her question. Using his normal hand movements with a mixture of Morse code and sign language.

Wednesday watched as the hand gestured at her. Paying attention to his movements and deciphering what he was communicating with her. She waited until he had ceased his movements before she clarified what he had said.

“You went to Fester’s tree house to make sure that he had not messed with your possessions?” She asked, mostly stated, what he had communicated.

He made a signal, in acknowledgment, that she was correct. Thing began making more gestures, continuing the conversation with the girl.

“What have I been up to? Just settling back into purgatory. Why?” She asked.

Thing continued, with Wednesday responding to what he was gesturing.

“No, I did not finish dinner with them. I had my fill and excused myself. Yes, I understand they wanted a dinner with me on my first night back. And I granted them one. They should consider themselves fortunate that I remained for as long as I did.” She maintained the conversation with him.

Wednesday shifted in her chair, rolling her eyes and glaring at him a little. “You know, sometimes I wish you had more of a body. So I could cut it off of you again.” Thing was visibly offended at that. He paused and then proceeded to angrily sign at her.

“I do not care if you think that was rude. I find your berating me, about eating dinner with my relatives, to be just as rude. Frankly, I do not understand why it matters.” She rolled her eyes and continued glaring at Thing while he continued to sign some more.

“No, I did not ‘mellow out’ during my time at Nevermore. Even if I had, this is not Nevermore. I dislike being told what to do. Did you learn nothing from our time at that wretched school?” She gritted out and directed her ire at him.

Thing continued signing, while Wednesday interpreted his gestures.

“No. If they want me to have a ridiculous conversation with them, then they will need to converse about something of interest. Otherwise, I will not partake in conversations of unimportance. If they want to talk, then they may talk. But I will not be forced to converse if I do not have to.” She nearly growled out.

Immediately after, she spun around in the chair. Facing away from Thing. Trying to contain her anger.

If Thing could sigh, he would have made a huge one. He waited on the bed, for a moment, to see if Wednesday would turn back around. When she didn’t, he jumped down from the bed, skittered across the floor, and climbed up onto the desk.

Wednesday turned further, trying to ignore him. Her arms were still crossed and her face contorted in anger.

Once he had climbed up, onto the desk, he began tapping and scratching on the desktop. Trying to get Wednesday’s attention. Once she looked down at him, he started signing to her. He tried to stay calm in the signing and gestures.

“Your apology is accepted, I am displeased with what I said as well. I just, very much, prefer to not be told what to do.” They apologized to each other.

Wanting to remove herself from the situation, Wednesday tried to change the subject.

“Let us move on. This conversation is exhausting. Did you have a specific reason for why you wanted to be in this room?” She asked, and he answered, in his sign language.

“I had assumed that the last few months would have been more than enough time spent with me.” She asked him.

He reminded her about when he swore fealty to her. The corners of her lips turned up into an evil smirk at the mention of the act. Wednesday reveled in thought for a moment.

Thing tapped, gaining her attention, Wednesday leaned forward and read the clock that was on the desk. Seeing that it was 12:48 PM, she felt that it was time to move on to something else and was done with writing, for the time being. The raven-haired girl decided that she wanted to go for a run. As well as getting a refill of the coffee.

“I feel like going for a run. If you wish to join me.” She offered to Thing, who made a gesture in affirmation.

She set the phone down on the desk and told Thing to figure out a way to play some music from it. She wanted to try listening to music while running.

Wednesday stood up from the chair and collected some running clothes. Grabbing the proper ones from her dresser and closet. Once she had the clothes that she wanted, she went to the bathroom to change into them.

Once in the bathroom, she changed into a pair of black yoga pants with a vertical white strip running down the outside of each leg. She put on a tight, long-sleeved shirt, with a few white bands around the wrists of the sleeves, over a black sports bra. And lastly, she changed into an oversized, black, sweatshirt, over the her shirt.

Before leaving the bathroom, she checked in the mirror and made sure the clothes were on correctly and that she was dressed warm enough. Once she was satisfied, Wednesday grabbed the previous clothes that she was wearing and went back to her bedroom.

She walked back into the room to see Thing still fiddling with the phone. She had no idea how he was able to use the phone so proficiently. The only answer that she could think of, was that Enid taught him. Which was very possible, as they had spent a considerable amount of time together without Wednesday.

She walked over to the desk and asked expectantly, “Are you finished?”

He tapped a couple more times and then picked the phone off the desk. He leaned back onto his wrist and angled the phone towards her. Wednesday reached for it and took it from him. She put it in the pocket of the sweatshirt and pulled out earbuds from the phone’s box that was sitting on the desk.

She turned them on and assumed that they were connected to the phone. Or else she wouldn’t be able to use them. Luckily, Xavier must have connected them before, because they dinged and alerted her that they were connected to the device.

As soon as the devices in her ears had alerted her of their connection, they began playing music that Wednesday didn’t recognize. Once she had finished fitting the earbuds into her ears, Wednesday held her arm out for Thing. Letting Thing climb up her arm and onto her shoulder.

Wednesday snuck out of the house and began her run. While she was running, she noticed that nearly every song was something unfamiliar. Apart from a few classic, instrumental pieces, she barely recognized most of the songs that played. Disliking several of the unknown songs, she made a mental note to remove them from the playlist. If she could figure out how to do that.

As she began the run, Wednesday went on a seemingly random pathway. One that she had traversed a few times before. While running, the girl passed by the oak and maple trees. Watching as the trees passed by, with branches and dying leaves brushing against her as she ran.

Soon, Wednesday found herself in an overgrown, ever-denser forest. Taking the path that she had chosen, had reminded her of the wooded area from that night. She was running through the trees, running to stop Crackstone, being grabbed by the Hyde, being saved by Enid’s werewolf form.

She ran faster as her thoughts shifted away from her surroundings, to the night of the blood moon. Everything that happened filled her mind. She relived it all, everything.

Weems and her going to confront Thornhill, who then revealed to be Laurel. Weems being stabbed in the neck, poisoned with a liquid nightshade concoction and killed by Laurel. The shovel that hit her head, knocking her unconscious. The blade that sliced her hand, and the burning of the magic seal on Crackstone’s sarcophagus.

She could feel the pain of the seal, burning into her hand. Feeling like the cut was being ripped open and burned in fire. She could feel the power and energy pulled from her and used to awaken the Pilgrim. She remembered the fear that she felt, the shame of feeling it washed over her. The images and sensations flooded her mind as she remembered everything that happened that night.

She saw Crackstone’s resurrection and him subsequently stabbing her in the abdomen. Twisting the blade, tearing her flesh, slicing her open, and almost gutting her. She could feel him pulling her energy from her body. Draining her life to use in his conquest and destruction of all Outcasts.

She remembered when Goody had saved her. Gripping the blade, flooding her body with new sensations and feelings, that she’s never felt before. Until she removed the blade and flooded Wednesday with energy and life. Before vanishing in a puff of smoke.

She could feel it all over again. The weird feeling of Goody’s power flowing through her. Like she was lighting her body on fire. Every inch of her felt ice cold and boiling at the same time. Her head felt light, almost like she was drowning. She felt electricity firing off inside of her. Like she had touched live-wire. Feeling more energized than she ever had. All while feeling death beginning to embrace her badly-wounded body.

Her breathing got heavier and louder, as her mind raced, and flashed with the memories of that night. She saw the Hyde, picking her up and throwing her around. Heard Enid’s wolf form coming out of nowhere and tearing into the Hyde. Remembered being dropped to the ground, being hit with the surprise of Enid’s werewolf form being there to save Wednesday.

The nightmare from the previous night started flashing in her mind as well. Jumbled together with the memories of the blood moon. Flashing lights, the pain and sensations in and around her. The violent sounds of death and destruction. Crackstone’s arcane power, dolling out his unjust punishment upon her and the student body and faculty of Nevermore.

She was hearing the sounds all over again. The howling, the roaring, grunting, tearing and scratching. The branches breaking, the gunshots, the fire raging, her flesh tearing and cutting, her ribs cracking… She could hear it all over again.

She felt the pain and felt the emotions of it, all over again. The fear, the anxiety, the shame of being powerless, and of being weak and helpless. She felt the need to run, again, faster. The desperate need to stop Crackstone. The need to end the pain, anguish, and injustice caused by the madman. Feeling the hurt, the anger, the terror emanating from herself and the students that she saved.

She remembered fighting the urge to run away. Run away, like the first day of therapy. The urge to run away when she first got to Nevermore. To run away during the fair. The need to run away from the monster that night. Her desperate want to run from the hurt and the pain. She felt how much she fought the urge to run away from the responsibility, and ended up running towards the fire. Running towards Crackstone. Running towards her final breath, her final stand.

This time though, she was actually running away from it. Trying to get away from that night, until she began to panic. She was so disconnected from the moment, that she couldn’t tell that she was hyperventilating. Wednesday was too enclosed within her mind.

All she wanted was to run, run away from that night. She was running away like she had wanted to that night. She wanted to run from the pain, the sounds, the hurt, the feelings. All of it in her mind, was overwhelming her.

Wednesday began running harder than she did that night. Trying to get somewhere, anywhere but where she was. But feeling like she was going nowhere. She ran as fast as she could as if it would save her. Her breathing was getting faster and more shallow.

Her chest burned for more oxygen. Her head swam in the drowning water of thoughts and emotions. Her legs screamed, yearning for a break. Her feet throbbing with every step. She was unaware of the darkness, creeping in on her vision. Forcing her eyes into tunnel vision. Seeing nothing but that night.

The darkness in her vision continued to close, soon to completely blind her. Her eyes fogged over and blurry. She could only see that night, could only feel that night, could only hear that night. She was there, running from it. Going nowhere. Regardless of how hard she ran, that night kept getting closer.

After about a dozen songs of running, Thing had noticed the look on Wednesday’s face. He Could tell that something was wrong. Once he had noticed her breathing getting extremely shallow and heavy, Thing began tapping on her shoulder as hard as he could.

That did not succeed in gaining Wednesday’s attention. He tapped harder and began shaking her, snapping next to her ears. Trying to pull her out of the panicked spiral. He continued his movements, trying to pull her attention back out of the thoughts and flashes.

Wednesday felt tugging from somewhere, could hear sharp snaps in the distance. She could feel the memories fight to stay on the surface. The anxiety and fear holding her, against her will. Forcing her to focus on the terror-filled flashes.

Wednesday felt as if a hand reached into the water-like darkness that held her. She felt the darkness fading as the hand pulled her from the void. Bringing her towards the surface and pulling her out of that night.

After a moment he pulled out the earbuds in her left ear. When this did not succeed, he snapped in her ear again. Hoping that it would get her to come out of the chaos inside of her head. Finally, Thing succeeded in getting Wednesday to snap out of it and return to the present.

The darkness lifted and her sight began to focus on the surroundings again. Her senses slowly returned and she felt sick, as the sensations were too much. She felt the pain in her legs and she felt the repercussions of her panic attack.

She was breathing short, heavy breaths, nearly gasping. Her legs burned and felt weak. Her lungs were on fire for more air.

Her nostrils flared in disgust at the smells that were assaulting her nose. Her eyes were dry from not blinking enough and letting all of the foliage irritate them. Her mouth was dry and tingled like it was numbed.

Wednesday quickly slowed down to a stop. Breathing very heavily and trying to get it under control. She looked around, wondering where she was.

After a moment Thing reminded her that he was there. Wednesday almost jumped but held back. She let him crawl down her arm and into her left hand. Holding him in front of her, he sat on her palm, signing. Wednesday answered as best as she could while trying not to pass out from the lack of oxygen.

“What do you mean?” A few heavy, shallow breaths, ”I am perfectly fine.” Another heavy breath, “No, nothing is bothering me.” Her breathing interrupted her answers.

Not believing her for a moment, Thing continued signing. She watched him for a moment before answering him.

“I am just trying… to get some cardio in.” She lied, looking around at the forest surrounding them, trying to catch her breath.

She took several deeper breaths at his prompt. He made more gestures and she nodded. Wednesday set him back on her shoulder before starting the run back towards the manor, taking it slower than before.

“You are correct, it appears it is time to head back.” She replied.

Wednesday brought her breath back under control while running back toward the manor. Returning down the path that she took, Wednesday went slower. Trying to recover from the first half of the run and make it back to the manor.

Wednesday listened to more of the songs this time. After putting the earbud, that Thing took out, back into her ear. She tried to focus more on the music and the path she was running. Instead of focusing on the blood moon.

By the time the twelfth song had finished, Wednesday had reached the manor. The girl disliked how relieved she was to see the house in the distance. Upon reaching the front porch, Wednesday stepped onto it and heard the deck flooring creak under her footsteps.

Wednesday reached for the door handle, ready to enter the building, and remove herself from the thoughts. But, like it did when she arrived the day before, the front door opened before Wednesday could open it herself. Like usual, she ignored the door’s ability to open itself, and she walked into the house.

Stepping into the foyer, Wednesday closed the front door behind her. Then, she climbed the stairs before one of her parents had the misfortune of catching her. She passed Bruno and went into her room, without being spotted.

Stepping into the room, Wednesday pulled out the earbuds and the phone in her pocket. She looked at the device to shut off the music. Upon opening the phone, she noticed a thumbs-up emoji from Eugene. She assumed it was an answer to her earlier message.

Wednesday walked over to her desk and set the phone on its charger. Allowing Thing to mess with it if he wished. Telling him as much as she let him climb down from her shoulder. He jumped off her hand and landed on the desk. Going over to the phone and beginning to use it.

She left the device in Thing’s capable hand and went over to her dresser. Grabbing clothes to change into and went back into the hall, walked down it, and entered the bathroom. She walked over to the sink and washed her hands.

After several minutes of distractedly washing her hands, she looked up at herself in the mirror. Like the last time, Wednesday wasn’t sure what she expected to see. But, like before, it was not there. Her reflection had not changed, except for the unusually red hue resting on her cheeks; Instead of its normal paleness. The color change was from the exertion that she had forced herself into.

She glared at her reflection for longer than she wanted. Not seeing what she expected. She felt hotter than normal, so she washed her face, wetting it down and wiping it off. Dissatisfied with the results of her reflection, Wednesday turned and exited the bathroom.

As she entered the hall, she heard Pugsley yell out, “I’m home!” from downstairs. Not knowing, or caring, where he had been, Wednesday moved down the hallway and entered her room.

As she stepped into her room, she glanced at the clock on her desk. Curious about what time it was. She noticed that it was a little after 3 pm. Thinking about what she wanted to do, she looked around the room, passing over Thing, choosing what to do. Her eyes settled on her cello case and she decided that there was enough time to play her cello.

Moving across the room, over to her cello, she unpacked it properly and set it up. She had left it in the case while unpacking yesterday. Playing it was the only thing that the Raven could think of to help ease her mind from the run. Other than escaping to the mausoleum. But her legs and chest were still burning from the run. So, she chose to stay inside and play the instrument.

She took her time, setting the cello up. Moving with practiced hands, unpacking it properly. She spent a minute or two tuning it properly. Then, set up a folding chair and the sheet music onto a stand. Getting ready to play it.

Thing continued to play with the phone while Wednesday was busy with the instrument. Until he noticed that she was almost done setting up. Eager to help with the cello playing, set her phone down. Propping it up on the desk. Aimed at where the brunette was sitting. Wednesday was unaware of what he was doing, ignoring his movements until he was on the music stand ready to help. He jumped from the desk and landed on the music stand. Ready to turn the pages of the sheet music. Helping her like he usually does.

Fully seated in the chair, she grabbed the bow and propped the cello into her hold. Beginning on Thing’s mark, she began to play. The movements were the only thing she allowed to be in her mind. Feeling the flow of the strings and swinging of the bow. Hearing the melodies ring out and sway.

Using her control of the instrument to control her thoughts. Pushing them out and away. Shifting into the music’s flow. Feeling her heartbeat in tune with the sounds. Refusing to fall under the weight of that night’s memories.

Thing turned the page at the proper times, as he normally did. Letting the music guide her, Wednesday closed both eyes for a few moments and swung the cello bow in and out. Using her fingers to alter and shift the vibrato.

If she concentrated enough, she could see the notes in her head. Swirling in time with the swing of the bow. Several minutes later, she opened her eyes for the next part. Having not practiced the song enough to have it memorized.

Page after page she played, with Thing turning them dutifully and in time. Soon, thirty minutes had passed, then forty-five. After nearly an hour of playing, the booklet of sheet music had come to an end.

Wednesday finished with a final flourish and swing of the bow, before dropping her arm. She breathed in and out deeply a few times, to reset herself, so to speak. Setting the bow down while doing so, and standing the cello up, leaning it back on its stand. She rose out of the chair, shaking her hands out. Trying to get rid of the vibrations in her hands.

While Wednesday paced the room for a moment, to stretch her legs, Thing jumped back over to the desk. He moved the phone and messed with it some more.

Wednesday could not care less what he was doing, at the moment. She needed a moment to ‘reset’ herself. After several big breaths, Wednesday felt lighter than she had all day. Her chest wasn’t as tight, and her shoulders were not as heavy. She could feel the breath come to her easier than it had the last two days.

Pacing the room, Wednesday heard a vibrating buzz, along with a ding, come from the desk. She stopped pacing and was about to walk over to the desk and take the device from Thing when her bedroom door was knocked on.

“Wednesday, my storm cloud, dinner will be done in about an hour. Will you be joining us?” She heard her mother’s voice ask from behind the door.

Wednesday sighed and rolled her eyes. She wasn’t sure she wanted to eat. She still wasn’t hungry, from the earlier nausea. Wednesday took a second to think about her answer, before replying to her mother’s question.

“I am unsure if I will join you tonight, Mother,” Wednesday stated with her arms crossed. As if her mother could see her stance.

Wednesday heard her mother’s sigh come from the hallway before she continued.

“There is some water out here for you. Whether you come down for dinner or not, please drink some of it.” Morticia said before walking away from Wednesday’s bedroom door.

She stood in the center of her bedroom for a moment, wondering if she wanted it. Wednesday did not feel hungry, but she was thirsty, now that she thought about it. So Wednesday went to the door and opened it. She grabbed the cup of water that was sitting on a hutch outside of her bedroom, in the hallway.

She brought the glass to her mouth and drank the water greedily while stepping back into the room. Not realizing how thirsty she was, Wednesday drank the whole glass.

Once Wednesday had finished the water, she brought her attention back to Thing and the phone he was using. Seeing him typing and clicking on the phone. She was glad someone would get the money’s worth out of it. As she probably would not use it a whole lot.

She walked over to the desk and noticed what Thing was doing. He was texting someone. Her eyes widened, in surprise and anger. She closed the distance, lightly stomping towards him.

“Why are you using that phone to message Enid!” She said in a little bit of a snarl. Her lips tilted in an angry frown, and her eyes with nothing but a glare focused upon him. He set the phone down and began signing and gesturing in fear.

“That is not an acceptable response. I realize that you promised to keep in touch. However, you did not have my permission. That cellular device was given to me , not you. You better have, at the very least, informed her that it was you and not me!” Wednesday loudly berated Thing.

He began explaining himself and shifting the conversation to asking questions. Wednesday crossed her arms and answered his questions. Trying to calm herself, before she ended up killing the trust-breaking hand.

“Because pretending to be me will get your fingers broken and will result in your possible dismemberment and/or death.” She growled out through gritted teeth.

“That is beside the point. It is not your device. I allowed you to use it. At no point did I give you my permission to contact any person with it. Nor did you ask!” He continued to plead and question her.

Wednesday allowed it, trying to exercise her impressive self-control.

“It is also lying. I see no reason to be lying to her, at this time.” She continued to glare at Thing.

He proceeded with his signing. Trying to barter for time with the phone. So he could stay in touch with Enid. She rolled her eyes and sighed yet again before replying to his bartering.

“Fine, as long as you inform her that it is you. And you must ask me first. Every time.” Wednesday couldn’t believe that she was bargaining for screen time with a severed hand, but here she was. Thing continued to sign and Wednesday replied when necessary.

“If you confirm with me, then you may be allowed to use it. Just do not lose it. I am not willing to go through the process of acquiring a new one.” She huffed in frustration.

Wednesday brought her hands to her head and rubbed her face in frustration. The conversation continued longer than she had wanted. With her getting more frustrated as it progressed. Regardless of her obvious lack of enthusiasm, Thing signed some more, forcing her to stay in the conversation.

“Fine, you may continue to talk to her for now. I will be reading a book.” She stomped away and went towards an armchair on the opposite side of the room. Thing asked some questions keeping her from leaving the conversation.

“No, I do not think I will go to dinner… Because I do not feel the need to endure that right now. I am done with this conversation.” Wednesday sighed angrily, feeling like she had lost the argument.

She turned around, grabbed her current book, and sat in the armchair to the left of her bedroom door. She opened the book and began to read where she had left off. She ignored Thing, leaving him to continue his conversation with Enid.

Wednesday spent the next hour reading the book. Trying to concentrate on the book and not Thing and Enid texting each other. After about twenty-five minutes of annoyed reading, she heard her father yell from downstairs.

“Dinner is ready children! Come and get it, my maravillosos asesinos!” Her father merrily exclaimed from the floor below, in Spanish.

As she was still not feeling hungry, Wednesday decided to go down, refill the cup with water, and ignore their requests to join them for dinner.

Wednesday sat forward, setting the book on the chair’s side table with its bookmark in place. She stood up, passing a glance over to Thing. Seeing him set the phone down. He signed that he was done and that he wanted to go be at dinner.

Even though she still wasn’t happy about their previous conversation, she allowed him to climb up her arm and stand on her shoulder. With Thing in place and the water glass in her hand, Wednesday made her way out of her room and down the stairs.

She walked through the foyer, through the living room, and the hallway towards the dining room. Upon walking into the dining room, the smell of her favorite stew hit her nose. Addams Olla Podrida.

A classic Castilian/Spanish stew, with an Addams Family twist. The stew had emu meat, bison tongue, Spanish chorizo, cabbage, pinto beans, Leeks, tomatoes, a lot of onions, a fair amount of garlic, whole peeled potatoes cooked in the stew, and typically served beside rice. In the Addams household at least.

The pleasant aroma filling her nose quickly changed the level of hunger that she experienced. Wednesday was surprised by how fast her stomach went from being uninterested in any food to being starving, in a matter of seconds.

Before her parents noticed her, Wednesday decided to stay. She supposed that she could give them another dinner with her. Until Christmas at least.

Wednesday easily saw that this was most likely a trick, to make her have dinner with them. Even so, Wednesday was fine with temporarily letting them think that they could trick her. As long as she could get some of the Olla Podrida to eat.

She huffed, annoyed at the notion of having a favorite stew, and glared at the dining room full of family members. She lightly stomped her way to her seat and quietly sat down before anyone could say anything. Thing took his time walking down her arm to step onto the table.

Once Gomez had noticed Thing walking across the table, he excitedly acknowledged the hand.

“Ah, Thing! How are you, old man? Did you and Wednesday have a good day together?” Gomez gave a chortle while addressing Thing.

Thing crawled a little more toward Gomez before replying with his typical gestures. Gomez watched as Thing explained everything they had done that day. Luckily, Thing excluded the incident during the run. He was smarter than that, otherwise he’d perish.

“I see! Well then, Wednesday must be starved after her run! Why don’t we all dig in!” He exclaimed in his over-the-top way.

Gomez gestured to the table and the bowls in front of everyone, before starting to eat the stew himself. Lurch filled Wednesday's cup with water, without prompt, before leaving the room.

Wednesday was annoyed at her father’s correct assumption. She had, unfortunately, become very hungry from the day she had. Even if she hadn’t felt that way 5 minutes prior. Wednesday hated her body’s necessary functions, like eating and sleeping. Even still, she did enjoy the Addams family version of Olla Podrida.

Wednesday tried to ignore her family, only being there for the food, but their attempts at pleasantry were rather distracting. She couldn’t help but begrudgingly participate in the unfortunate ritual of conversation.

“I hope you like the stew, mia terror nocturna. We were going to have it yesterday, for your first night back. However, we did not have enough emu meat or potatoes. So Lurch had to go acquire the ingredients for tonight.” Morticia spoke to her with an air of imperious presence.

Wednesday’s face hardened, sensing her mother’s supposed superiority being forced upon her. Trying to intimidate the daughter into surrendering a complimentary response. Regardless of whether Morticia deserved one or not. Wednesday paused before settling on an appropriate response.

“It is not displeasing,” Wednesday stated, focusing her glaring gaze upon Morticia. Challenging her arrogant demeanor.

Morticia stared back, not faltering,

“I am grateful to hear that, mia demonia. Lurch and I spent almost 6 hours concocting this.” Morticia smiled and gently nodded once at her daughter.

“It is very very good, Cara Mia.” Gomez joined the conversation, emphasizing the words in Italian.

Oblivious to the battle of wills between his wife and daughter, Gomez reached to his left, for her hand. Morticia granted the silent request and offered it to him. His fingers clasped around hers, gently. He brought it to his mouth and kissed the knuckles softly.

Morticia allowed him to kiss her hand, while she gazed at him lovingly. He slowly began kissing up her arm, starting at knuckles, pulling her closer with every kiss. Soon, he had pulled her close enough to kiss her on the lips. They stared into each other’s eyes before closing them and kissing each other on the lips.

Much to Wednesday’s chagrin. Their unabashed displays of love were making Wednesday sick to her stomach. She thought that she might not finish the meal if they kept participating in the display. Even averting her eyes did nothing to help, as they started making noises as well.

She needed them to stop, or else she would evacuate her stomach onto the table. To that end, she focused her attention on them and loudly garnered the attention of her parents. Glaring harshly while she did.

“Can we go one meal without these nauseating displays of affection?!” She addressed them loudly, breaking them of their lustful display.

“Ah, just wait until you fall in love, my venomous little viper. It encompasses your whole mind, body, and soul.” Gomez stated as a matter of fact while continuing to stare lovingly into Morticia’s eyes. They leaned towards each other and kissed again.

Wednesday rolled her eyes whispering in Italian. “Assolutamente disgustoso e rivoltante. Non posso credere che siete i miei genitori.”

She was feeling more nauseous the more they partook in their affection for one another. Wednesday turned away while she ate, so she did not continue seeing the affectionate displays that her parents were engaging in.

She wanted the conversation to either end or change the subject immediately. Thankfully, either Pugsley wanted that as well, or he was bored and had something to talk about. Either way, she was glad when he began to take their parent's attention away from herself and, more importantly, each other.

She continued eating, trying to hurry while trying not to make herself sick. She listened to Pugsley talk about his day at whatever group or club he was involved in. She even spoke occasionally, to appear as if she was engaged and interested in the conversation.

After being down there for around forty minutes, she was done. Wednesday couldn’t handle any more time with her family for the night. She stood from the table and excused herself. Saying thank you to Lurch as she passed him in the hallway, on her way back to her room.

She chose to leave Thing down there. Partly because she was still upset with him, for earlier. But also because he didn’t make any moves to exit with her. He probably wanted to spend more time with the other members of the family. After not having seen them very much over the last few months.

She made her way out of the dining room, through the hallway, into the living room, and exited into the foyer, before climbing the stairs to the second floor. She walked past Bruno, down the hallway, and entered the bathroom. She went to the sink and washed her hands and face.

While washing her hands, Wednesday saw something move out of the corner of her eye on the mirror. She jerked to attack whatever was there. Brandishing a blade from her pocket, in a flash. She swung at the movement that she had seen. She paused, holding her knife out into the bathroom air. She looked back and forth, trying to spot the thing from the mirror.

Not seeing anything, Wednesday searched the bathroom for what had appeared to move in mirror. She looked in the shower, behind the curtain, on the floor, and around the toilet, to see if something had fallen or if maybe a bat was in the bathroom. But, she couldn’t find anything that even slightly resembled what she had seen.

Turning around, she looked back into the mirror getting closer to it. Looking all over the mirror. She looked at herself and all of the reflections. Nothing appeared to match what she thought that she had seen.

Her heart was racing slightly. She was loathe to admit to herself, that it had startled her. She wasn’t prepared to feel like that. She hadn’t been startled much in several years. At least, not until recent events. It was unsettling to her.

Shaking the thoughts from her mind, and stiffening her face and posture, she made her way back to her room. Putting the blade back in her pocket while she passed through the hall. Once she reached her room, Wednesday walked in and shut the door behind her. The raven leaned backward, on the closed door. Taking a deep breath in and out with her eyes closed, trying to get her heart to stop racing.

She was beginning to hate her heart's actions lately. And her head's actions as well. They were acting like traitors. Not doing what she wanted, tricking her into seeing things, feeling things that she had rarely or never felt before. It was all overwhelming and Wednesday hated it very much.

The slow breathing partially succeeded, her heart mostly returning to its normal beat. She opened her eyes and happened to glance out the window. Seeing that the sun was in the middle of setting.

Something compelled Wednesday to walk over to the window and look out of it. Seeing the clouds and sky change color. Shifting from blue to yellow and orange, to pink and red. With a little bit of purple mixed in.

For some reason, Wednesday’s thoughts shifted to Enid. She assumed it was because the pinks, yellows, and blues looked similar to Enid’s hair. Again, she felt compelled to see the sunset, except she needed a better look at it. And there was only one place that she could do that.

Wednesday turned to the desk beside her and the phone from the charger. She deposited it into her pant pocket and climbed out the window. Working her way from the windowsill, climbing out onto the roof.

She reached her usual sitting spot and brushed off any snow that had settled on the roof, during the last night and day. She sat down, taking the phone out of her pocket. Glancing at the time, she saw that it was 6:34 PM. The sun wouldn’t be there for much longer.

Wednesday felt the compulsion to continue, as she felt the need to take a picture of the beautiful sky. The technologically inept girl spent a couple of minutes looking for the camera application. Growing more and more frustrated with the device.

Once she had found it, she tried taking a few photos of the sunset. But it took several tries before she figured out how the camera worked. She was about to go back inside, find her father’s analog camera, come back out, and take photos with that device instead. Luckily she figured out how the application worked.

Knowing that Enid would appreciate the colors, Wednesday took several pictures of the scene. The raven-haired one preferred what came after the sunset, though. Nighttime, with the sky being black and white, was a lot more enjoyable for Wednesday than a sunset.

Every time the sky changed color, she took a couple of photos. Wanting to document the whole thing for some unknown reason. At least Enid would be able to enjoy it in its entirety.

The thought crossed Wednesday’s mind, about taking a ‘selfie’ as they are called. But she was unsure of how to do it and also thought that it was typically vain. Wednesday was many things, but vain was not one of them. At least she usually tried not to be.

After most of the sunset was gone, Wednesday sat in the cold, dark, night, on the roof. Sitting in the silence, Wednesday remembered the messages that Thing had sent to Enid. She picked up the phone again and began reading them.

She wanted to make sure what he said before she punished him for whatever he sent Enid. Scrolling through, she re-read what she had last messaged Enid, and went on from there.

12:16 pm — Wednesday: I appreciate the attempt at trying to use language to suit my disposition. However, you do not need to alter your speech patterns. If you do not wish to. It is perfectly acceptable for you to continue with your typical vocabulary.

Wednesday: As for the “texting lingo thingy” as you put it, I appreciate your acceptance of it. There is no guarantee that I will use it again. Nor will I commit to using it, or other ones, frequently.

It is unfortunate that your sleep was prematurely disrupted. May you find it within your power to get the rest you need.

Enid had sent back a few heart emojis, as her reply. This was where Wednesday had left off, several hours ago. Moving on, she read what messages Thing had sent to Enid. Except Thing was smart, he had deleted everything he sent to Enid. The only things Wednesday had to go on, were emojis and Enid’s responses.

4:02 pm — Wednesday: Deleted.

Enid Sinclair: OK who are you and what have you done to Wednesday?

Enid Sinclair: I know Wednesday would never say that.

Wednesday: Deleted.

Enid Sinclair: Thing?!? That better be you. Ain’t no way Wednesday sent this.

Wednesday: Deleted.

Thumbs up emoji. Hand wave emoji.

Wednesday could feel her blood boiling. She was furious, not only was he most likely saying things that he had no right to say. Thing was also impersonating her, on top of that, he was using those insipid little pictures while pretending to be her.

Deleting the messages was the right move, on his part. But Wednesday was still absolutely fuming. She would seek revenge. But, for the moment, she kept reading.

Enid Sinclair: OK Thing the jokes over. It’s impolite to lie about who you are over text.

Wednesday: Deleted.

Frowning emoji, painted nails emoji, and three hearts.

Enid Sinclair: Awwweee! I miss you too. Next time I see you I’ll give you a big hug and we can have a spa day. Ok?

Wednesday: Deleted.

Enid Sinclair: It’s been super lonely without you two. I even miss hearing the click-clacks of Wednesday’s typewriter even though they gave me a headache sometimes.

Enid Sinclair: What’s she been up to?

Wednesday: Deleted.

Wednesday: Deleted.

Enid Sinclair: Be careful what you send. I don’t want either of us to break her trust. Maybe don’t say stuff that she’ll stab you for ok?

Wednesday: Deleted.

Thumbs up emoji, two hearts, a waving hand emoji, and some music notes.

Enid Sinclair: Awesome, I’ve missed cello time. Text me when you’re done.

Wednesday read the messages with growing anger. Breaking her trust? More accurately, Wednesday was going to break Thing’s fingers. She felt like she needed to murder someone, primarily Thing. This was an aggravating breach of her privacy. Feeling her bloodlust growing, she continued.

4:05 pm — Wednesday: Deleted.

A nearly hour-long video of her playing the cello, was cut into about three twenty-minute-long videos. It appeared he had forgotten to delete them, leaving Wednesday in an even more angry state.

‘This breach of privacy will be handled with.’  Wednesday thought to herself before continuing on with reading the texts between them.

Enid Sinclair: Cool thx let me download them so I can watch them later.

Wednesday: Deleted.

Enid Sinclair: OK, good to go! Thx buddy.

Enid Sinclair: Is she doing ok now?

Wednesday: Deleted.

Wednesday: Deleted.

Enid Sinclair: What! Are you ok?

Enid Sinclair: Hello??!? Thing!?

About 5 minutes or so passed before he sent another response. This must have taken place during their argument about the phone. He continued texting Enid afterward.

Wednesday: Deleted.

Enid Sinclair: Ugh don’t do that to me! I thought you guys were dying or something!!

Enid Sinclair: Wait! You didn’t ask her first?!!?

Enid Sinclair: Thing! That is rude! What are we going to do with you!?

Wednesday: Deleted.

Enid Sinclair: Yes, when you start acting like the gentleman I know you are.

Enid Sinclair: You don’t take and use people's stuff without asking first Thing!

Enid Sinclair: I don’t like having to be mean, but I will!

Wednesday: Deleted.

Enid Sinclair: I forgive you.

Enid Sinclair: Now how’s it going?

Wednesday: Deleted.

Enid Sinclair: Well, we went through something traumatic and dangerous. I don’t particularly want to spend my time with my family either. They don’t understand what happened and I don’t want to talk with them about it either.

Wednesday: Deleted.

Enid Sinclair: Ok my favorite right hand, love you! Bye bye! Goodnight!

The last thing Enid sent was several emojis. Hand wave emoji, two hearts, and a sign language ‘I love you’ emoji.

Wednesday: Deleted.

Thing sent the same emojis back. Hand wave emoji, two hearts, and a sign language ‘I love you’ emoji.

Wednesday felt different while reading this. On one hand, she was incredibly upset about the invasion of privacy, and for not knowing what Thing had sent. But, on the other hand, she almost felt jealous of Thing and Enid being able to talk like that. Acting as if they had known each other for years. Wednesday didn’t understand how they could do it. She had never had a friend before Enid. And now, even though she has a couple of friends, she still couldn’t talk to them like that.

She rationalized it by reminding herself, that she had only known Enid for a little over two months. That it would get easier to communicate with her over time. Thing was just more sociable than her. Those thoughts did not bring the comfort that she had wished for.

Wednesday paused for a minute, wondering if she should send a text to Enid, or not. Eventually, she decided to write out a formal note, before she could change her mind. Once finished, she sent it to Enid.

7:39 PM — Wednesday: Hello Enid. I would like to inform you, that Thing will die within this fortnight. It is unfortunate that he has committed treason in this sense, but his actions require dire consequences.

Seeing as you have already said your goodbyes, I will not be allowing him any final words with you. Unfortunately, as he is unaware of his fate, he cannot give them to you regardless. However, I am sure he would like you to know that he greatly appreciated your friendship and your tips on proper hand hygiene and manicure techniques.

With that out of the way. He will perish, without notice, at my earliest convenience. I hope you are not irreversibly saddened by this. But I have concluded that he has no available choice in the matter.

What he has sent you, this day, is utter falsehoods and gravely incorrect. Upon the off-chance that any of it was correct, he has messaged you without my explicit permission. This is an invasion of my privacy and an act of treasonous treachery.

Because of this, I have to ask that you please delete everything that he has sent to you and that you forget everything that you were told by him.

I appreciate your cooperation. Sincerely, Wednesday.

Writing something similar to a declaration letter, from the 1800s, Wednesday expressed most of what she had wanted to get Enid to understand. Hoping that she would fill in the rest. Wednesday sent the message, knowing that she would get a swift response. Wednesday was sure Enid would try and fight for Thing's life. Possibly even say nice things, or give promises. Even if Wednesday wasn’t entirely sure if she was going to kill Thing, she was angry enough to do it.

Wednesday sat in the cold silence, on the roof. Waiting for Enid to respond took longer than she had anticipated. Enid did not respond for several minutes. Until, in the silence, a ding rang out. Wednesday brought the phone within her view again and read the new text.

7:44 PM — Enid Sinclair: Wow so formal and well written.

Enid Sinclair: You should be like a writer or something Lol

Wednesday read the messages and sat, confused. Her eyebrows stitched together in confusion. She had expected arguments, anger, hollow promises, or something like that. However, she was not expecting to receive only a compliment. Wednesday typed out her reply, quickly.

Wednesday: You are not going to try and fight for his life? Tell me to spare him, in return for a favor, or some form of clothing?

Enid Sinclair: Nope it probably wouldn’t work anyways.

Wednesday sat there, stunned. She was robbed of the reaction that she had wanted to elicit from the blonde. Slightly upset, Wednesday continued with the conversation.

Wednesday: While you may be correct, I was expecting to negotiate for his Survival. But, it appears we both want him dead then. I shall start on it posthaste. Goodbye, Enid.

Enid Sinclair: No no no!

Enid Sinclair: I don’t want him dead!

Enid Sinclair: But I knew you would be upset so I made my peace. If you want him dead then it’s your prerogative

Wednesday: Well then, I will get to work.

Enid Sinclair: Although…

Wednesday sighed, she knew this was coming.

Wednesday: Yes?

Enid Sinclair: where are you gonna find someone or something as good at helping you as he is?

Enid Sinclair: You know, like fitting into spaces you can’t? Tailing people?

Enid Sinclair: Or bringing you things? Who’ll turn the sheet music for you?

Enid Sinclair: I mean even if you can find someone like Thing you’ll have to spend months or years training it.

Enid Sinclair: It would be more efficient if you just skip the killing part. Wouldn’t it?

Wednesday: I suppose you are correct.

I will just have to torture him until we are even.

Enid Sinclair: That’s better, but wouldn’t it be easier if you just forgave him and knew that he only did it out of love?

Enid Sinclair: But if you can’t forgive him than I guess you gotta do what you gotta do.

Wednesday: I am not blind to the possible reasons for his betrayal. But it is still treason and must be treated as such. However, I appreciate that you stopped me from needing a new helper.

Enid Sinclair: Any time. Lol Go easy on him, he was stabbed not that long ago.

:(

Wednesday thought about it for a minute. Unfortunately, Enid was correct. Maybe she was overreacting. She supposed that maybe she shouldn’t kill Thing for this treason. That would mean that he was getting off too easy. She should torture him. Not too much though, as she still needed his services.

Enid Sinclair: How are you doing otherwise?

Wednesday: I have stated, that what he has told you, is false.

Enid Sinclair: I know, but I just want to talk to you.

Wednesday: I am… having some difficulty. Being back in my family’s house is unusual. However, it is nothing more than I can handle. I will be fine.

Enid Sinclair: I’m feeling the same way.

Enid Sinclair: You better be telling the truth.

Enid Sinclair: Because If I find out you are lying to me I’ll get angry and hunt you down ‘werewolf style’

Wednesday smirked as she read the threat. Enid had learned a lesson about talking with Wednesday.

‘I would most likely enjoy that.’ Wednesday thought to herself.

She looked back out at the last of the sunset. Almost completely gone. It reminded her of what she originally wanted to message Enid about. But she suddenly felt uncomfortable about sending it. She didn’t know why.

The idea of sending pictures of a sunset was something that she would normally never do. She usually hates sunsets. So sending pictures of a sunset was especially unusual.

She chose to not send them. To maybe send them at a later time. She wanted to change the subject but didn’t know how. Luckily, Enid changed the subject for her. Sending a text, to which Wednesday replied, almost immediately.

Enid Sinclair: So what are you up to?

Wednesday: I am sitting outside, looking at the sky. Feeling the cold sink into my bones.

Enid Sinclair: I think I’ll go out and watch the sunset as well. It should be starting in the next few minutes.

Wednesday noted that Enid was about 3 hours behind Wednesday’s time zone. However, she didn’t know how Enid could know that Wednesday had watched the sunset. But she ignored the correct assumption and moved on.

She took a minute and laid back on the roof. Zoning out, Wednesday was unsure of how long she laid there. Watching the stars and objects in the sky, before her phone buzzed in her hand. She brought it in front of her face and opened it to see Enid had sent a message.

Enid Sinclair: I’ll text you when I’m done with dinner and the sunset. Bye-bye.

Wednesday read the message and sent a goodbye to Enid as well. Then, Wednesday dropped her arm and looked back out into the darkness. Staring at the sky, the clouds, and the stars. Watching the darkness of space take over the sky.

She laid there for a long time. Wednesday was unsure of how long she had laid there, just watching the stars. Until she felt a buzz in her hand, once again, and heard a ding. Wednesday brought the phone back up and opened it to the texting app.

Wednesday opened Enid’s tab and looked at the photos of the San Francisco sunset that Enid sent. Several with her in them, the sun shining behind her. Lighting up her face and hair, like the photos from the plane ride. She looked at them all and saw the similarities between both of their sunsets.

Wednesday was in disbelief. Enid had sent her photos of the sunset. Something that Wednesday was going to do before she had talked herself out of it. Wednesday was in awe of Enid’s boldness. She was also frustrated with herself, that it clearly wasn’t something of importance. If Enid could send them, then Wednesday could have sent them.

Shortly after, Enid sent another message. Instead of wallowing in her self-doubt, Wednesday read the message that came through.

10:32 pm — Enid Sinclair: It’s getting late for you and I’m still jet-lagged. So I say we both go to sleep. Nighty night, let the bed bugs bite. Or whatever. Lol. TTYL!

Wednesday looked at the time and was shocked that she had laid there for several hours. Once her attention was brought to the moment, she realized how cold it was. Before leaving, Wednesday sent her final goodbye message for the night.

Wednesday: Have a pleasant night, Enid. Sleep well.

Wednesday concluded that Enid was correct. She should head to her own bed. Wednesday got up went back through the window and set the phone on its charger.

Before going to sleep, Wednesday thought it would be a good idea to change into clothes that she wouldn’t mind sweating in, in case of more nightmares. After her nighttime ritual was finished, Wednesday went to bed, folded her arms over her chest, and drifted into sleep. Ready for a night of assumed nightmares.

She was not proven wrong.

X______________________________X

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Darkness…

At first, that’s all that filled her vision.

It was different, the darkness was more visible, instead of the absence of light.

It wasn’t like her eyes were closed, she could see the darkness around her.

It wasn’t empty, there was something inside of it.

Suddenly there was heavy breathing.

She could hear the breathing coming from where she was standing. As if it was her breathing.

It sounded like it came from her, but it did not sound like her own breathing.

They were deeper, filled with pain.

They were louder, full of a gravelly grunting.

She was gasping for air that would not ease the burning ripples in this body’s muscles.

The pain wasn’t her own, but she felt it.

She could feel all of it.

Breaking through the breathing and the pain. She could hear something.

Chains…

Rattling and clanging.

When suddenly, she was in a forest.

Leaves and dirt came across her view.

Replacing the darkness that was once there.

Branches flew past her eyes.

Along with the breathing, came the sounds of the forest surrounding her.

The sounds of the chains were gone.

Now there was growling, and grunting, along with the pained breaths.

More and more heavy, pained breathing.

Suddenly the darkness covered her sight once again.

Blacking out her view of the forest that had surrounded her.

The chains returned with the darkness.

All of the sounds were getting louder.

The breathing, the growling, the pained grunting, and the chains.

The sounds felt like they came from every direction.

Suddenly, there was banging.

As if metal was being flung at metal, crashing into one another.

Then there were men, screaming and crying out in pain.

Muffled begging, “No no No! Please. I have a wife… I have kids. No!”

It was warped, as if she was underwater. Or partially deaf.

Then… Nothing…

The sounds faded from around her.

The deafening silence hurt more than she thought it would.

Leaving her in the silent-filled darkness.

Then suddenly, a scream.

Then, multiple people screaming.

The terror in the voices was almost visible.

She could hear it, and see it, and feel it.

The pain, from the sudden shift of the sounds, rattled her ears.

Then, out of nowhere, the silence returned…

Just silence.

All-encompassing darkness surrounded her, like being in a pitch-black tank, being filled with water.

She could sense it closing on her.

The silent darkness was tangible, slowly squeezing her…

Tighter it squeezed, as she was about to start struggling.

Until the darkness eased its pressure.

As the sounds flooded her ears once more, returning from the void.

She was still held by the darkness but was relieved by the pressure, easing its crushing weight.

Suddenly, she heard tires, squealing and squeaking away from her.

And then a crash.

Metal being torn apart.

Beeping from a car, echoing into the blackened void of tangible darkness and terror.

Now there was a car horn, continually blaring, before cutting out.

Being replaced with a howl…

Two howls.

Getting louder. The breathing, and growling, returned in the dark.

A flash of light surrounded her, burning her.

She felt the heat blast her skin, she almost cried out in pain.

Suddenly there was fog surrounding her. Rolling in from nowhere, making her colder.

Replacing the blistering heat that she felt under the flash of light.

Standing in the darkness, she could feel its crushing sensation overcome her body, once again.

Getting heavier with each passing second.

The coldness filled her more than the winter storms she enjoyed.

The coldness burned her insides, her body feeling like ice and flame.

Feeling it down to the bone, she would shiver. If not for the darkness crushing her. Preventing her from shivering in the night.

She could feel the pain from the cold, burning in her muscles.

It wasn’t her body’s muscles, she could tell.

The muscles burning and being crushed, they weren’t hers.

She struggled, trying to free herself.

Or to free whatever being she was trapped inside.

Then, thunder roared out, and she jerked back, becoming still once more.

The sudden sound scared her into ceasing her struggles.

Suddenly, the crushing weight of the void had retreated.

Out of nowhere, she was released from the pressure.

The cold fled with the darkness, a normal-feeling warmth filling her.

The body she inhabited breathed out in relief.

Until she began to sense something else.

She was not alone.

Lightning rattled out again.

Brightening her surroundings.

The thunder roared, just after the flash of light.

One after the other, the Lightning flashed.

Two… Three… Four…

The flashes of light revealed that she was surrounded by four people.

She couldn’t make out their faces.

Almost as if the faces were blank.

The lightning shifted.

Turning into flashes from a gun’s muzzle.

The sound of a gunshot rang out.

BANG!!

As loud as the previous thunder.

Louder.

It felt as if a sharp knife was thrust through her ears.

It hurt.

The pain was everywhere.

The darkness crushed her again.

BANG!!

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X —————————————————— —X

                       The End.

                Of The First Chapter.

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Now this is not the end. It is not even the beginning of the end. But it is, perhaps, the end of the beginning.” — Winston Churchill.

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