Well, at least it's not a Hyde, Enid thought. That was the good news.
The bad news was that whatever creature Isadora Laslow had become, it didn't seem to have much to envy the monster that terrorized the woods around Nevermore and Jericho two years ago. True, the witch's mutated form was not the same size as a transformed Tyler Galpin, but it was obvious that judging by the disproportionate size of her left arm she could surely strike with similar strength. And appearances were deceiving, there was no way to determine what she was really capable of until she went into action.
A steady growl formed in the back of Enid's throat. The rational part of her mind was terrified. Fortunately, her animal self was using that fear as good fuel for the level of aggression she was going to need if that thing charged at them. Instinctively, the lycanthrope positioned herself in front of Wednesday, Friday and Pup.
Wednesday, sword in hand, sensed it. Her only reaction was to cast a glance with an arched eyebrow at Enid. In another past time the Addams would have taken offense at the pretense that someone had wanted to protect her as if she were helpless, but after two years with her she-wolf she knew Enid could be a hundred times more stubborn than she was.
That didn't mean she could not try anything different first.
"Isadora?" she asked.
The mass of purple muscle that had been Isadora Laslow looked at them. Her previously cadaverous face was still recognizable, but her features were exaggerated, like a grotesque caricature. Her eyes bulged out of their sockets like two disproportionate orbs that could not be covered by her eyelids, just as her lips could not contain the fangs that protruded from a mouth too small for them. Her glasses rested broken on the floor next to her bare feet on which one could still see the remains of her shattered footwear.
In her gaze shone insanity and anger.
"I wonder how much of you is still a rational creature," Wednesday said, "Or how much is a beast. Shall we find out?"
Isadora roared in answer. A sound that reverberated beyond the quad. In their rooms, the Nevermore students were startled. Yoko, Ajax, Bianca, Eugene, and Lenore couldn't help but tense at their guard posts.
During the roar Isadora's mouth opened beyond the corner of her lips, tearing the skin of her cheeks as her jaw unhinged, displaying a grotesque row of shark-like teeth.
"Impressive," Wednesday mused.
"Wednesday, don't admire the abomination," Enid whispered nervously.
"You know I can't help it, querida."
Isadora finished roaring. She continued to bore her gaze into them and began pounding the ground in a clear display of aggression.
Wednesday raised her sword and shot a quick glance at Friday and Pup.
"Here it comes. Enid and I will hold her off. Run all the way up to the top level next to Woe."
"I can fight," Friday said.
"I know. But if you were in my place would you let Pup fight?"
Before Friday could respond, Isadora roared again and prepared to charge at them.
Only to be interrupted by a flying shovel hitting her squarely in the head with a resounding thud, causing her to stop dead in her tracks.
Everyone, including the transformed Isadora, turned a puzzled look to the other end of the quad, where on top of one of the tables stood Shark, rolling up her sleeves as the most unhinged grin shone on her face, "I'm still here, you atrocious driggle-draggle!"
Isadora roared. The transformed witch began to run towards Shark, raising her disproportionate left arm, ready to turn the girl into a bloody, shapeless mush.
A bolt whistled through the air and pierced the creature's neck, prompting another shriek of rage and pain.
"You should have stuck to telekinesis and remained a small target, but I'm not complaining," said Woe.
"Sister Woe!" shouted Shark, with some indignation, looking at the upper platform at the other end of the square where the teenage Addams stood reloading her crossbow again, "I had her!"
"No, you really didn't," Woe said expressionlessly, preparing to take aim again. Her eyes widened slightly at the sight of what was coming as she caught the alarmed warnings of the others.
Isadora was flying toward her.
Or more correctly, Isadora had made a prodigious leap that lifted her into the air, straight to the point high above where Woe was standing.
Woe did not sit still waiting for the blow. With cold-blooded calculation and only a few milliseconds to spare, the teenage Addams jumped the railing and dropped to the lower level of the quad just an instant before Isadora made impact. She could feel the creature's fist brushing the ends of her braids, as she fell and the witch finished her ascent. Below, Wednesday caught Woe in her arms, both falling to the ground.
With her fist practically embedded in the rock of the upper level, Isadora looked down and growled baring her teeth at her enemies. The purple abomination let herself drop. Fortunately, Wednesday and Woe had already gotten up with the help of Friday and Pup and moved back several meters. But now they had that monstrosity in front of them. Even armed with their sword and crossbow, it was not a situation to be taken lightly.
Especially when Isadora jumped again towards them, ready to strike with her massive left arm.
For Wednesday it was as if everything was moving in slow motion. The monster was only a few feet in front of her, crossing the air with a deranged expression on her face. Her huge fist on a direct trajectory towards the Addams’ skull.
Wednesday smiled, calm.
Because at that precise moment, she heard a growl.
The sound of clothes being ripped to shreds.
The sound of muscle, sinew and bone mutating in seconds.
Isadora Laslow's disproportionate fist never hit any of the Addamses. Because a giant clawed hand covered in golden fur stopped her, parrying the blow like it was nothing.
Isadora looked up, something akin to surprise and fear returning to her mutated face. After her grotesque transformation, the witch stood easily over six and a half feet tall. Enid Sinclair, standing fully wolfed out, exceeded eight feet.
Eight feet of very, very angry lycanthrope.
Another hand with sharp claws struck Isadora in the face, marking it with red, bleeding lines. The blow was so hard that the witch was thrown off until she crashed into another of the quad's tables, crushing it under her own weight. The area, until that moment dominated by the various roars and screams of rage of Isadora Laslow, was engulfed by the howl of the guardian she-wolf of Nevermore.
And then a small voice spoke.
"You're so fluffy," said Pup.
Enid looked back. Right behind Wednesday (who was watching her with a rarely exhibited smile and love-laden eyes) and Woe (with an indecipherable look on a blushing face), the werewolf could see Pup and Friday, watching her with expressions of pure amazement. They were looking at her as if she was the most astonishing thing in the world. Enid could almost see the sense of wonder shining in the eyes of the younger Wednesdays.
She offered them a doggy smile that elicited a giggle from Pup.
Unfortunately, the moment had to be interrupted when she heard the creaking of wood and a miserable growl. Isadora was getting up, still dazed but again furious. The purple abomination pounded the ground again with her fist, then her chest repeatedly, like an animal. Enid responded with a roar of her own, baring her sharp fangs and bristling all the fur on her body.
"Go get her, mia lupa," Wednesday said at her side, and Enid Sinclair charged her foe with the force and speed of a railroad.
The two creatures collided, becoming a mass of movement, claws, bites and blows. They rolled on the ground locked in combat. Blood began to splatter at each new wound. Enid was causing more damage and lacerations to her enemy, but despite her larger size it seemed that Isadora matched her in strength and was not far behind in endurance. In situations like this it is often fortune that decides. And as fate would have it, Isadora Laslow was lucky enough to land a direct blow with her powerful left hand against Enid's head, which not only knocked the she-wolf off her but sent her flying through the air until Enid crashed into the fountain.
Isadora jumped up, ready to take advantage of her momentary advantage and leap back at the werewolf before she could recover, but a war cry distracted her.
Shark Addams seemed to appear out of nowhere, leaping onto Isadora's back. In her hands she held the wooden handle of her shovel, broken, turned into a makeshift stake.
Which she drove through the mutated witch's left eye.
Isadora screamed, writhing in pain and punching the air, trying to grab the Addams. But Shark had already jumped again, somersaulting as she hit the ground and scurrying into the gallery surrounding the quad.
The witch tore out the wood stuck in her left eye, now blinded forever. Blood gushed copiously, along with other transparent, watery fluid. But she could barely process what had just happened when another stab of pain shot through her, this time in the form of a sword emerging from her torso after being thrust through her back at the hands of Wednesday Addams.
Isadora turned her head and fixed the gaze of her one healthy eye on Wednesday, who returned it with an expression that seemed to strike a perfect balance between fury and serene indifference.
Isadora Laslow roared, stepping forward once. The sword left her body and Wednesday moved back a few steps as the witch spun on herself with dizzying speed, attempting to strike the Addams with her right arm.
Wednesday didn't flinch. She moved with absolute precision to the side, the kind of maneuver that could only be expected from someone trained and experienced. Isadora's right fist flew past her face, almost grazing her but without making contact. Wednesday made a movement with her sword next, so fast that few could perceive it clearly. There was a flash of metal, a burst of blood and again a roar of pain from the abomination Laslow had become.
The witch's right arm fell to the ground, severed.
Wednesday Addams smiled, reveling in the warmth of the blood that had splattered her face.
Isadora was totally out of control. The stump of her right arm spurted blood like a fountain and her throat let out only gasps as if she had burst her vocal cords. She looked at Wednesday and Wednesday could see the gleam of scorn in the beast's eyes. Isadora raised her disproportionate left arm, ready to crush the one she considered guilty of her cousin's death, the reason for her madness...
... and could do nothing but be thrown back to the edge of the quad and against one of the stone pillars when Enid Sinclair hit her with a double kick.
Everything stopped for a moment. Isadora's form lay limp on the edge of the quad, breathing laboriously and emitting pitiful moans.
Enid moved to Wednesday's side, who began to gently pet the werewolf's neck, who responded by nuzzling the Addams' cheek along with a soft growl.
"You have been magnificent, mia lupa."
"Certainly, that was a fabulous finish, Miss Sinclair!"
Wednesday and Enid looked to their left, watching as Shark approached them limping slightly. Behind them, they could hear shouts and applause. Wednesday turned and could see Friday and Pup bouncing in celebration. Woe, for her part, merely nodded with folded arms, but even she couldn't suppress a small smile on her stern face.
And then, Isadora Laslow started screaming again.
"What the...?" muttered Shark.
Enid growled, taking her place in front once more.
They all focused their attention once again on the creature. Laslow had risen. Purple smoke emanated from all her wounds, the most visible being her severed arm, where not only did the smoke seem to billow like a chimney, but...
"Her arm is growing back," observed Wednesday with narrowed eyes.
"And her wounds are healing," added Shark.
Soon the screaming stopped. Purple skin once covered with bloody cuts and marks of stabbing and piercing bolts looked unblemished again, the traces of blood being the only sign of the damage inflicted. A new right arm had formed, its flesh moist and bloody. Isadora Laslow clenched her fists and roared triumphantly to the heavens.
When she finished, she spent a few seconds catching her breath before turning her attention back to the Wednesdays and Enid. A monstrous, toothy grin adorned her ghastly face. She began to walk towards them. It was not at a run as before, but walking step by step as if she wanted to savor her newfound superiority, knowing that no matter how much the Addamses and her she-wolf would slash, stab or bite they would not be able to stop her.
And she was not without reason, for a similar thought crossed Wednesday's mind. How could they stop something with such regenerative ability?
And then...
"I apologize for my tardiness, I had to make a detour around the school lab."
Needler had made her presence known. The pale Addams mad doctor emerged from the shadows at the end of the quad leading to the entrances to the classroom building. She wore her white scientist's coat, protective lenses over her eyes, and had her hands behind her back. She paused for a moment, witnessing the whole scenario before her and raising an eyebrow at Isadora's appearance.
"I thought we were dealing with a magic user."
"That's the magic user," Friday pointed out, "She poured some sort of potion on herself and turned into that."
"Ah, potions. Chemistry with artistic aspirations."
Isadora roared, deciding to finish with the newcomer first. She started running towards Needler. Enid made a feint to follow in an attempt to slow her down, but the she-wolf stopped when Needler pulled out what she was hiding behind her back.
It looked like a gun... if you could even call a gun something that seemed like an indescribable amalgam of kitchen parts, appliances, plastic bottles filled with a strange phosphorescent blue liquid, and multi-colored wires sizzling.
Isadora jumped against Needle as the mad doctor pulled the trigger, smiling.
"Field test number one!"
A blue beam shot out of the gun with such force that Needler fell backwards from the recoil. The strange energy impacted full on Isadora. She did not stop instantly, but her movements began to slow down, more and more... until she was immobile and, with a dry creaking sound, completely frozen and covered by a thick layer of ice.
Needler stood up, dusting off her coat. All the Wednesdays watched her with expressions of pure amazement. Enid tilted her head in curious surprise, in a very canine way.
"A freeze ray," Woe said, as if not quite believing it, "You created a freeze ray in an afternoon, with kitchen utensils and materials from a school lab."
Needler shrugged, "I had to improvise. I wanted to make an insta-kill laser, but... Anyway, one can only work with what one has."
Inside her ice block, Isadora's eyes twitched nervously, the only sign that she was still miraculously conscious.
Needler approached her and placed one of her feet on the frozen figure.
She pushed hard and the immobilized Isadora Laslow fell to the ground. Needler smiled, a maniacal smile. An Addams smile.
"Science, witch."
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