She did not open her eyes when she regained consciousness.
Nor did she move a muscle. She kept her breathing controlled and her heartbeat did not change for any reason. She did this despite the disorientation she felt and a slight headache.
She just lay there on what appeared to be a surprisingly comfortable cot. If anyone was watching her they would only see the unconscious woman asleep with her arms folded across her chest as if she were the body of a deceased person in a coffin. She strained all her senses. There seemed to be no one nearby, and she could only clearly perceive the hum of electricity. Through her closed eyelids she could sense that she was in a well-lit place, with relatively bright white light. If she had opened her eyes as soon as she woke up, it would surely have blinded her for a few moments.
The air also seemed to be clean. She could not detect any kind of gas or suspicious odor even with her highly trained olfactory sense.
She opened her eyes, and blinked a little until she adapted to the light. With hardly any movement other than that of her eyes and a slight, almost imperceptible twist of her neck, she managed to observe the place she was in.
It was, obviously, a cell.
Incredibly clean and well-lit, nothing like the dungeons she knew from a childhood exploring her family's mansion. The floor and walls were pristine white and appeared to be padded. The ceiling was covered with luminous light panels. In one corner she could see a modest toilet and a small shower, partially covered by a divider that provided some privacy. At the other end of the room was the door. She could see no locks or latches of any kind. It was smooth and made of ivory-white material. It had a small glass opening, the only window to the outside although it was no doubt intended more so that whoever was out of the cell could keep an eye on the occupant.
There were no other windows to the exterior. Nothing that could provide a frame of reference to where she was.
Taking a breath and holding back a sigh, the Wednesday Friday Addams known as Friday stood up, sitting down on the cot.
The eleven-year-old girl that Wednesday and Enid had known several universes away was now a thirty-nine-year-old woman. The person or persons responsible for locking her up had not put her in any kind of prisoner uniform and had not touched her clothes. An oversized pink sweater decorated with floral patterns (carnivorous flowers, of course) that reached almost to her knees, dark blue pants and a pair of black boots.
The adorable face of her childhood had given way to the face of a pale serene woman similar to her mother's, but with less sharp features. She smiled habitually, something hinted at by the marks on her face around her eyes and her black-painted lips, although at the moment she maintained a neutral expression. Her long black hair was no longer in two pigtails, but in a single braid that fell down her back to her waist.
She stood up carefully. Her head still hurt and she didn't want to risk any dizziness. Friday took a couple of steps and checked that there was no other pain or ailment in her body. No visible injury or damage.
Turning around, she could see that the cot appeared to have blankets and sheets and a soft pillow. The only problem was its small size. There was no other furniture in the cell. No shelves or desk.
It was just her and her thoughts. That led her to remember, and the feeling of worry she had been holding back since she regained consciousness clawed at her chest.
She remembered that they were all together in the living room. An evening with the family just before dinner. Her Eamon, the twins and herself. Dora and Theo had just returned from high school without any warning from the principal, which was always an accomplishment. Dora was sitting next to her father, the two of them planning activities for the upcoming full moon while Theo was reading sitting next to them, seemingly engrossed in his book but offering suggestions from time to time. Friday had been sitting on a couch translating some texts for her work at the university, pausing only to watch her family with a smile. And as always, Eamon would manage to glance back at her, as if his wolfish senses were warning him that he was being watched, sending a wink and a sharp-toothed smile to his wife that always sent a delightfully pleasant shiver down her spine.
And then, the wall of the living room facing the outside of the house exploded and a giant shadow rushed in.
Her memories were fuzzier from then on. That thing... that monster that looked like a piece of the night itself pounced on her, practically ignoring the other occupants of the house. She remembered shouting to Dora and Theo to run away before she felt a great pressure as those claws grabbed her torso. She tried to pull free but the creature's strength was prodigious. Eamon leapt at him, claws outstretched, but the beast pulled the untransformed lycanthrope off him as if he were a rag doll.
Although Eamon wounded him, I remember that his claws left light-like marks on the beast.
After that, she didn't remember much else. The beast seemed to fall upon her, choking her with its darkness. The pressure on her chest increased, depriving her of oxygen, her eyes were blinded and she remembered a cold sensation spreading throughout her body, an unnatural terror, and after that... nothing.
Nothing more until her awakening in that cell.
Friday suppressed a shudder at the memory of those sensations. She felt as if she was short of breath again and staggered a little, leaning forward. She didn't fall, supporting herself with her left hand on the door of the cell. She caught her breath, feeling as if she had just emerged from the bottom of a lake. After a few seconds, she began to feel her body relax again.
And then someone spoke.
"Ah, I hear you're awake already," said a male voice, "Good morning. Or maybe it's good evening or good night. It's impossible to tell here."
Friday stood very still and made not a sound. She went back to observing everything around her. The voice seemed to have sounded close, almost as if he were in the cell with her, but there was no one else there.
"I'm in the cell next door. I can almost imagine you transfixed looking everywhere trying to find me."
"Who are you?" asked Friday.
"Your cell neighbor, your prison buddy. I'd shake your hand, but I figure it's tricky."
The tone of the voice was calm if a bit flippant and seemed to have an accent that Friday could not identify. It must have been a young man, or at least that's the impression she got.
"Do you know where we are?" asked the Addams in pink.
"In a prison," replied her new interlocutor.
Friday tried not to snort in irritation, just frowning slightly, "Yeah, I figured as much. But I'd appreciate more details."
"I know. I'm sorry, though I'm afraid what I can tell you is probably going to leave you with more questions. I've been here a while and this place is pure nonsense."
"What do you mean?"
"Well... the cells are pretty well isolated except for the fact that you can have a conversation with the person in the cells immediately adjacent to yours as if they were right next to you. But only with those. Oddly convenient, as if they want to see us interact in a limited way."
"Are we being watched?" asked Friday, scanning her cell again with her eyes, "I don't see anything that looks like a camera or surveillance system."
"There are no cameras, as far as I know, but we are watched. One of my former cell neighbors said that some kind of magic was probably being used. Same reason why you won't see any food or drink. There's something in the air here that keeps us nourished and hydrated. It's weird as hell."
"How long... how long have you been here?" asked Friday.
"Well... it's hard to say exactly, because the day and night cycle is a mess, but I'm pretty sure I've been in this place for about two and a half weeks. Part of it all has to do with what I told you about it being nonsense... Can you go over to the window in your cell door and try to look outside?"
Friday approached the small opening. The glass was undoubtedly thick and all that could be seen out of it was blackness.
"I can't see much, it looks like the lights are out..."
"You're an Addams, the darkness is an old friend. Sharpen your eyesight."
Friday stared through the glass, and with some effort she could begin to make out certain shapes, outlines... a wall, somewhat distant, covered from base to ceiling with...
"Cylinders?" she asked.
"Capsules. I think they're some kind of cryogenic capsule. Or maybe they're something magical, I'm not clear on that," her cell neighbor replied, "They put us in them after a while but I have no idea what criteria they follow. I told you I've been here for about two and a half weeks, didn't I? The previous occupant of your cell had been in it for a few days before I arrived and the guards took her out and put her in one of those capsules two days after I awoke. I could see her and others being dragged out... But the neighbor in the cell on the other side of mine arrived a few days after me but was also taken to those tubes shortly after, and I'm still being kept here waiting. What I told you, nonsense."
Friday exercised an iron grip on her emotions, keeping the growing sense of worry that description had caused her well in check. Her mind latched onto a detail mentioned by her interlocutor that was not lost on her.
"How did you know I'm an Addams?" she asked.
She couldn't see him, but when her prison neighbor spoke Friday swore he was smiling.
"You're a Wednesday Addams aren't you?" he asked, "We all are."
A Wednesday Addams. One of many. The other prisoners... Friday knew immediately that she was a long, long way from home. It wasn't her first experience with jumping between dimensions, though this one was proving more unpleasant than her old encounter with other counterparts of hers. And her new partner...
"You're a Wednesday too?" asked Friday, "But your voice... you're..."
"Male, yes. Guilty. Wednesday Thursday Addams at your service, but just call me Thursday. Truth is, I think we carriers of the Y chromosome are in the minority among the Wednesdays, but the multiverse is huge and varied. At least one of the Wednesdays I saw being dragged away by the guards was a velociraptor."
"The guards?" asked Friday.
"That being made of shadows that captured you? Same with me, but surely they weren't the same monster... There are several. Dozens, hundreds, thousands... I have no idea how many."
This time Friday couldn't suppress an unpleasant knot in her stomach. More of those things?
"Are you still there?" Thursday asked, "I know this whole interdimensional travel thing is a shock, but..."
"I guess I shouldn't be surprised," Friday interrupted, "I mean... my husband is technically the male variant of a girl I met in another dimension who was like a big sister to me. How weird is that?."
There was silence for a few moments.
"Whoa, whoa, whoa... wait a minute," said her cell neighbor, "Are you telling me this isn't the first time you've traveled between dimensions?"
"No. It happened when I was a kid. I spent a few days in another universe along with five other variants of mine because of a witch's failed spell," Friday explained. She didn't hold back the big smile that surfaced on her face, "It's still one of my fondest memories, always will be."
"This is...wow. Unexpected at least."
"What do you mean?"
"I’m not sure... Let's see, I've only had limited contact with some of the other Wednesdays and I only know of a few more from what they have told me, but I think you're the first one who's come here having prior experience, so to speak."
"I don't think it counts for much, though..." said Friday before she paused. An idea crossed her mind like a bolt of lightning.
Theo.
Friday knew her son. Eamon would be stirring heaven and earth to contact Grandmama and find a solution. But if all those Wednesdays were still imprisoned here, it was clear that their respective Grandmamas hadn't been able to do anything... But her Theo wouldn't stand idly by. He was impatient, stubborn and a compulsive magic scholar. He would surely try something stupid to find her. And wherever he went her Dora would go too, without hesitation.
"I know people are looking for me," said Friday. Yes, she could feel it. Her old confidence, the resolve that she would pull through, "And I'm sure they'll make it. I have faith in them."
"Well, you're certainly more optimistic than I am. More optimistic than most Wednesdays, it seems," said Thursday.
"If the other Wednesdays around here are similar... let's just say I've always been a little out of the mold," Friday replied, "I like the color pink, my friends and husband call me Friday, and I'm confident my children will be looking for me. And I'm hopeful that... well, I don't want them to come here alone, but I'd like to think that fate will lend a hand. And that they'll find her first."
"Who?"
"Wednesday."
"Uh... We're all Wednesdays around here," said Thursday.
"Not like her."
"How do you know she hasn't already been captured?"
"I'm sure she hasn't been," Friday said with full assurance, "What's more, I pity the poor shadow monster they send after her."
"What makes her so special?" asked Thursday, genuinely intrigued.
Friday smiled. And it wasn't her friendly, affable smile, not the smile reserved for her loved ones. It was the sharp smile that like an Addams she had learned to cultivate over the years. Woe and Shark's smile.
"She's got a guardian wolf."
NOTES
Well, some of you kids wanted to know what became of Friday, didn't you? 😈
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