Chapter Text
Wednesday took in her surroundings. This was her parents’ old school. It certainly had a dark spirit looming over the grounds—there was a story left untold in these buildings. That, paired with its teaching reputation for witchcraft and the occult, intrigued Wednesday to enroll this year.
A few strings had been pulled to admit her, but no more than the usual for an Addam’s family member. It was true that they had no special abilities. Still, having a famous common ancestor accused of witchcraft on these very grounds led to some leeway for their lineage.
She had been silent for most of the tour and their guide finally noticed.
“Wednesday, don’t you have any questions?” She smiled.
“If I had any, I would’ve asked them.” Wednesday answered in her usual monotone voice.
The guide’s grin faltered. “Okay. Um. And you can see over here…” She resumed her speech, hoping to look past their interaction.
Wednesday was growing bored. So she left. The sinister fog and candlelit chambers could only entertain her for so long. Though, walking through this castle left her with a delightful sense of unease. She traced the ridges of the stone bricks and felt something darker coursing through these walls. As if it had been detected, everything she had been feeling instantly vanished.
The corridor grew lighter and the weight on her chest disappeared. Wednesday’s disappointment was only visible by the twitch in her eyes. She ran her fingers along the stones again, but the feeling was long gone.
This school was hiding something. And she couldn’t wait to find out what it was.
Wednesday had already taken to writing her novel. She finished setting up her half of the room well before anyone else had made it to the dormitory. Another pro of skipping the tour: she didn’t need to face the crowd around the bulletin listing their dorm numbers.
Eventually, her silence was disturbed. Laughter intermittently broke her concentration as people passed by. Wednesday vowed to strangle her roommate in her sleep if she was one of those giggly types.
As if the universe was challenging her, she was sent exactly that. She wasn’t sure to be thankful for a target to keep her skills sharp or to be annoyed over the inevitable fallout.
“Hi roomie!” The girl was practically bouncing off the walls with her enthusiasm. She gasped. “You wouldn’t know this, but I actually wanted the left side! We’re already communicating without speaking!”
Wednesday’s eyes started burning the second she perceived a single strand of her roommate's blonde hair. She glared at her and hoped that would be enough of a deterrent.
It was not.
“Oh. Em. Gee.” If she had a tail, she would’ve been wagging it. “Are you reading my mind right now? Is that how you knew? Is that your power?”
Tactic 2: deflect and continue writing as if she’s not there. “I don’t have any powers.” Her attention was fully on her typewriter now.
“Oh! A vampire, then!” Her nose crinkled. “You don’t really smell like a vampire, though.”
“I’m not.”
For the first time since she came into the room, she was still. “But… you have to be something.”
Wednesday slid the paper over with a click. “I’m an Addams.”
“Oh… okay?” She nervously played with the sleeves of her sweater. “Um, I’m Enid Sinclair.”
“I’d say it’s a pleasure, but I’d be lying.”
Enid huffed and finally turned away from Wednesday’s side of the room. A series of clicks and shuffling indicated that Enid was unpacking. At least she was quiet about it. Wednesday had almost reduced the sounds behind her to background noise when an unholy screech tore through the room.
Sadly, it wasn’t from her new roommate. It came from said roommate’s stereo.
Wednesday’s fingers paused above her keys. “Turn that off.”
“Hm?” Enid asked sweetly. “Oh, this?” She cranked the volume up.
“Yes. That.”
“Hmm… no.”
“No?”
“No.”
Wednesday grips the knife she stored under her desk. A persistent tapping on her wrist stalled her murder attempt. She looked down to find Thing wagging a finger at her in a “no no” gesture. Wednesday felt a tinge of disappointment.
Thing then scurried off to initiate his more civil plan: turn it off without Enid seeing. Wednesday continued writing, satisfied with this outcome. A second later, the stereo cut out.
“Wha…” Enid pinned up the other end of the banner she was holding before stepping down to investigate. “Did you turn my music off?”
“How could I, I’ve been here this entire time.”
She huffed and turned it on again before going back to her decorations.
Again, the music stopped.
Wednesday felt a spark of amusement as Enid let out a cry of frustration.
“You!” The girl stomped over to her side of the room.
“Me?”
“Stop. Touching. My. Shit.” She growled.
Wednesday’s eyes widened just a little as the other drew close. “I haven’t even left my desk.”
Enid was seething. “Then why the hell does my stereo keep turning off?”
‘Hm. Her eyes are shining with murderous rage. How… intriguing.’
“Perhaps it is a fault in your own system. As you can see, I’ve done nothing but write this entire time.”
She threw her hands up in frustration. “It sure as hell wasn’t the wind! Unless—are you a witch? Telekinetic? Turning it off from a distance?”
She stared blankly. “I’m an Addams.”
“UGH.” Enid stormed over to her stereo, picked it up, and left the room.
Wednesday heard her footsteps recede down the corridor. “Hm. A shame. I thought she would’ve put up more of a fight.”
Thing shrugged from where he stood.
Wednesday had trained herself to wake at even the slightest disturbance. Even if she hadn’t, she was still conscious when Enid slid back into the dorm. The girl paused at the door before sighing and walking to her own bed. There was some shuffling around that sounded like the stereo being stored away. Enid flopped onto her bed and grumbled, “What a first day.”
Wednesday kept a keen ear on her until she could hear faint snores.
‘Yes, what a first day indeed.’
Deep below the castle grounds, a system of rusty gears ground past each other as a long-forgotten mechanism started up again. A series of chain reactions knocked each other into action, some slow, others fast, and a few dysfunctional after years of neglect. But one stood out.
The first to finish was a clock. The time, unknown. But the seconds fell gracefully into place. It echoed through the very bones of the castle sitting atop it.
It called out.
Now who will answer?