Chapter Text
Chapter 1: Woe Be Upon You
Pov: Enid Sinclair
Marilyn Thornhill had been her undoing. That was what Dr. Fairburn told her when she sat with her clipboard on the other side of the bars.
“Not my undoing,” Enid muttered. “My master.”
Dr. Fairburn sighed, grabbing her pen and jotting down a few notes. It infuriated her.
“Stop doing that!” she snapped, her collar beeping, glowing red. She breathed a few times, calming herself. She didn’t want the sharp pain of the shock collar coursing through her frail body.
“Enid, please understand, I am only trying to help. These notes are to better understand what we need to do to make you feel better.”
“You need to leave me alone,” Enid said. “I’m not the person you think I am. I’m a Hyde. A monster.” She spat on the floor, her mouth twisted into a bitter grin. “My persona liked being around people. That wasn’t me.”
Dr. Fairburn looked up at this, meeting the Hyde’s eyes. “I know very well what you are, Mrs. Sinclair. But you are not the sum of your outcast abilities.” When Enid didn’t reply, it seemed to give her some courage. “Why don’t you tell me about that persona?”
Enid snarled. “People believed it. That was enough. My master needed someone nice, but clueless. I provided the necessary persona. A bubbly, obnoxious werewolf. That is all.”
“Got it. It was all a persona, a necessary mask.” Dr. Fairburn’s pen scribbled across the page once more. “What is your opinion on Wednesday Addams?”
Again, no reply. But as if to fill the suffocating silence, the shock collar beeped twice.
Wednesday Addams
“Enid Sinclair, huh? She’s still in that asylum, Wednesday.” Bianca Barclay raised an eyebrow, her ice blue eyes heavy with suspicion. “I know you’re angry, but… let it go. She’s locked up.”
Wednesday’s glare could cut steel. “I hate Enid, but I would not waste time on betrayal. I simply believe she knows something that the therapists are not able to force out of her.”
Bianca smiled, cool and calculating. “And you think you’re a better interrogator? All of your effective methods are illegal.”
‘Someone’s gotta look after you.’
The raven’s eyes flicked to the window beyond her balcony. The glass was completely bare now, stripped of the ‘stained glass’ stickers that had once divided her room from Enid’s. She had torn them off in a frenzy after their fight.
‘I’m sorry, Wednesday.’
“Enid wasn’t just a Hyde. She murdered nineteen people in the span of months,” Wednesday said, her voice flat but edged with bitterness. “No one suspected her. A master manipulator, a master killer.”
‘I didn’t have to, because that’s what friends do!’
“She fooled all of us,” Bianca agreed. “And that. Includes. You.” She smiled again, spun around, and strode over to her siren friends.
‘You’re willing to do that… for me?’
Wednesday’s hands clenched at her sides, not in panic, but in irritation- at the memories, that could not be as easily chased away. The sentiment was absurd, and yet it lingered longer than it should have.
It was a mask. A lie. The girl she thought she knew did not exist.
But it was seeping into her everyday life. The final showdown was not closure. It was a mystery, an oversight, taunting her. Endlessly.
Because the voice wasn’t foreign. It was Enid, the whisper of the betrayal she had left.
By letting the girl into her life, Wednesday had let people die.
An oversight. And the most dangerous one of them all.
-*oOo*-
It was easy to get into Willow Hill. Agnes DeMille was willing to sign any paperwork shoved into Wednesday’s face, and the sheriff felt obligated to let her. “I know she was your friend,” the sheriff said. “You must understand, she can be very manipulative.”
Wednesday promptly ignored her. She walked silently to Dr. Fairburn’s office, her arms staying firmly planted to her sides. When she stepped inside, the therapist smiled. “Hello, Wednesday Addams. I’ve heard much about you from Sheriff Santiago.”
Wednesday stared at her menacingly, but Dr. Fairburn didn’t seem fazed. “I understand you are here to see Enid Sinclair, our lovely Hyde.”
Wednesday’s dead eyes flickered with… something. Something she would never admit. “That is correct.”
Dr. Fairburn tilted her head to one side. “I believe you may be the shock she needs to begin her rehabilitation. Follow me, Wednesday.”
The two stepped out into the hallway and walked at a brisk pace along the rows of doors.
“Enid resides in a room meant for a schizophrenic werewolf,” Dr. Fairburn said, her voice far too chipper for the occasion. “It works just fine for a Hyde. However, despite our best efforts, she remains highly volatile, her personality swinging around more than a pendulum: violent, volatile, bitter, angry, the side that shows her Hyde; sunny, chipper, happy, the supposed mask she put up during her time at Nevermore; and lastly, the crumbling remains of a broken, sad girl who never meant any harm. We are not sure if she is bipolar, her Hyde is influencing her normal form, or Thornhill’s manipulation is showing its effects even now. We thought separation would weaken their bond, but…”
“It hasn’t worked,” Wednesday muttered, more of a statement than a question. “Yes, the bond between a Hyde and its master is quite unknown to the likes of normies.”
Dr. Fairburn didn’t answer, she simply opened the door to a security guard sitting, watching Enid through security cameras in her cell. A big red button was right next to him, and his fingers twitched over to it as the two entered.
“Wednesday Addams is here to visit.”
The man looked over at her, a grim smile twitching on his face. “Hey, Wednesday. I hear Enid has a past with you,” he drawled. “Good luck. Don’t fall for her tricks.”
“She will not try to trick me. Here, she is stripped bare of such illusions. I know now what I didn’t at Nevermore.” Wednesday stared at the door, no longer bothering to look at the man.
“Go on right ahead, doctor. Let her in,” the man said.
Dr. Fairburn entered in a code, then struggled to open the heavy door.
The cage met Wednesday face on; there was an area clearly for visitors, a cold metal area devoid of any happiness. Just as Wednesday liked it.
But beyond that area there were bars, and inside the cage Enid Sinclair was chained to a wall, her breathing loud and raspy. Her eyes were closed, her hair wild, untamed, the bright streaks of dye fading.
“Finally, a visitor,” Enid said dryly, opening her eyes. She pulled the chains down, tugging her hands, and despite the struggle rested them on her lap. “Oh. What a surprise. Howdy, Wednesday. I would say roomie, but you haven’t been sleeping in this cage! I can’t call you that anymore. I feel so betrayed.”
“I haven’t come for reminiscing or twisted sentiment, Sinclair. I require answers.” Her braids felt heavier than usual as they rested on her neck and back. The tight strands pulled at her forehead, making her feel constrained.
Enid probably felt considerably more constrained, though, because of the chains.
“Answers? You found me out. And my master.” Enid pursed her lips. “I miss you, Wednesday. I miss what we had.”
“What ‘we had’ was a lie. The only true relationship was purely through my work. I was a detective; you were the culprit. Slippery, deceiving, but the culprit nonetheless.”
“And Evelyn?” Enid questioned, her tone considerably lower than her previous words. Softer, almost. The same manipulation that Dr. Fairburn had promised. Wednesday’s eyebrows furrowed with confusion, the rare sign of emotion glaringly visible on her face.
Her eyes lowered; they began to redden traitorously. Wednesday hadn’t cried since Nero had died. But she was dangerously close to doing it again. “Viper de la Muerte solved the case. Evelyn was the killer.”
Enid laughed, like remembering the good old times when she, too, was a serial killer. “Makes sense. She was based off me, yeah.”
Wednesday exhaled softly. “What did Marilyn do to you?” she asked. “What did she say? How did she turn you from whatever girl you were to what you are now?”
The Hyde’s arms snapped back to the wall, no longer having the strength to pull them down. “Now you ask. You always cared, more than you would ever admit to anyone. Marilyn wasn’t just my master, Wednesday. She was the only person who showed me love. Not even you did that, even after you kissed me.”
Wednesday stiffened at the reminder. “I am going straight towards the point as to not waste my time. My questions are for research; Hydes are seldom studied.”
“There’s nothing straight about you,” Enid said, laughing softly at her own joke. “Don’t kid yourself, Wends. You’re curious whether the killings were my doing, or Thornhill’s.”
“You had a choice, a chance to redeem yourself. You have one now. Yet you are still the same sociopathic killer that you were when Thornhill found you,” Wednesday murmured
The collar around Enid’s neck beeped angrily, and the Hyde hissed. “Choice?” she laughed again, but more strained, forced, bitter. “Choice. You think it was all my choice. Funny.” She lunged forward suddenly, her werewolf fangs coming out as she strained against the chains, her face almost animalistic as she pressed it against the bars.
But Wednesday didn’t move a muscle.
“You know it, deep down, don’t you? I am Enid Sinclair. I was your roommate. I just happened to get picked up by some normie, my master, my mother, who I had to obey. Choice was never an element. I am a werewolf.” Enid’s claws slid out leisurely, almost lazily. “These would be hard to fake, wouldn’t they, Wednesday? I am a werewolf. I am a Hyde. I am what Marilyn Thornhill made of me.”
“And what did she make 0f you?” Wednesday questioned, stepping closer to the cage. Her eyes flickered to Enid’s ragged clothing,
Enid squeezed as close to Wednesday as she could get. “A monster,” she whispered, her breath hot on Wednesday’s neck. She backed up away from the bars, trembling a little. “She made me a monster. And that is all I am now.”
She could almost imagine Dr. Fairburn, outside, her pen scribbling faster and faster.
“I miss you,” Enid howled, screamed. Her heart collar beeped rapidly, and a shock coursed through her body. She screamed again, throwing her head back, shaking, crying, sobbing. But as the pain subsided, she looked Wednesday right in the eyes, her pained expression diluted by manipulation. “I miss you, Addams.”
Wednesday glared. “You have wasted my time.” Water spilled through her eyes, hanging at the edge, desperate to fall. She turned around so Enid could not see, and marched towards the doorway.
“I know you cared,” she heard Enid whisper as she exited. “If you want me to cooperate, bring me my usual hair dye? I miss the way you looked at my bright streaks.”
The door slammed shut behind her.