Warning: There is nothing explicitly described, but there is a particular paragraph (it starts with “Those discarded Wednesdays…”) in the first segment of the chapter with rather vile, dark and fucked up implications.
The Shadow Hyde received its punishment, without protest. It did not even have time to howl in pain.
The creature's body fell to the pristine white floor with a wet, unpleasant noise, splattering the place with grayish ectoplasm gushing from its crushed head. Faint wisps of gray smoke heralded the arrival of other small-sized shadow creatures, like tiny goblins, who proceeded to diligently clean up the remains and drag the corpse out of the room after conveniently severing it into different parts.
Standing before the corpse, The Bright One took a step back and looked at their hands, slightly puzzled.
It was not clear to them what had just happened. They had been driven by an unexpected rush of anger after absorbing the Shadow Hyde's knowledge and realizing the failure of their mission. It hadn't been that long since the last time a familiar situation had arisen. They had expected the vermin to die (for to them the Hyde were vermin... but useful vermin at least) after digging through their memories, but they surprised themselves with the vehemence that led them to crush the being's skull with their hands.
They stood there, a few moments, before rubbing the goo-covered hand over the chest of their white armor. The gray ectoplasm residue began to smoke and dissolve, as if the metal of the armor radiated heat or energy that destroyed the substance. Soon even the remnants on their hands had vanished.
It had taken them a while to read themselves, obfuscated by the always immense endorphin rush of feeling a skull crunching and crumbling beneath their fingers, but they were sure they felt frustration.
The question is... why? Because of the fugitive Wednesday Addams who seemed to be devoting herself to traveling the multiverse thwarting the search and capture missions of her servants systematically and continuously in just two days?
Yes, it had to be that. But it unnerved them that their reaction was so visceral.
It wasn't the first time they'd encountered obstacles or Wednesdays that resisted or gave trouble. Hell, some gave them a lot of trouble, especially in the early days. They usually greeted those moments with exhilaration. A break from the timeless monotony, a challenge. What was different this time?
Well, it was the first time a Wednesday had broken the barriers of her own dimension. All signs pointed to the possibility of an attempted counterattack. But that should have them pleased, not frustrated! Damn, they should be expectant. It was obvious that that Wednesday was a special case, one of the strong ones. She would have to spend extra time in the cells before processing to realize her full potential.
The Bright One approached the lookout in the room, ignoring the multicolored emptiness that surrounded their floating citadel. Yes, that Wednesday would be a valuable acquisition. The cells kept them nourished while recharging them with thaumaturgic energy. All Addamses were magical creatures in one form or another and the more charged with power they were the easier it would be to get them through the processing phase for the next part of the plan. Like fattened cattle before going to slaughter.
It was a relief that most Wednesdays made it. They would have to check the numbers, but they were sure there would soon be enough to make it through to the third phase and then at last, at last all those centuries of monstrosity would pay off. They felt a slight pang of remorse for the small percentage of Wednesdays that had not made it. The lucky ones died instantly. Others... well, they lived but too broken to be of any use.
Those discarded Wednesdays were usually given to their vermin. After all, the Shadow Hyde were an army that had to be fed... even if hunger wasn't the only appetite those monsters satiated.
The Bright One kept their gaze fixed on the void. They sighed, unable to loosen the knot in their stomach. They couldn't figure out why they felt something different in all of this, because it wasn't like the other occasions... No, it couldn't be just because of the dimensional travel, there was something else. A change in the equation that could not be perceived with the naked eye.
They examined again the memories extracted from the Shadow Hyde in the back of their mind. How it reached its target just as the group of fugitives was leaving that universe... The defiant face of that Wednesday Addams, the implacable promise in her words.
The Enid Sinclair beside her, equally bold. The guardian wolf.
Mmm, it couldn't be just that, could it? they thought.
There had also been many Enids before in many previous encounters... But none capable of transforming at will without needing the moon. Hundreds of thousands of universes and not in a single one had they found a lycanthropic Enid Sinclair with that ability. In fact, many of the werewolf Enids were usually unable to transform or did so only at the full moon. They were not counting Enids from dimensions in which they were mundane humans or those that were some other type of creature.
Deep in thought, The Bright One left the lookout and began to walk with a firm and determined step. An idea was forming in their mind. And the Shadow Hyde would not be enough for it. They smiled.
§§§
The trip back to the base was marked by a long and uncomfortable silence. The interior of the armored vehicle that had come to pick them up was rather cramped and claustrophobic despite the huge size of the transport. It reminded Enid of the interiors she had seen in an old submarine documentary she had watched a couple of years ago. Cramped, metal, red lights and stale air.
Soon after sitting in the area designated for troop transport, Theo tried to inquire about the vehicle but Agent A silenced him with a gesture.
"It's best to keep quiet during the ride. We'll talk at the base," she said. And no other words were uttered for the rest of the ride.
Maybe it was chance, maybe it was fortune, but as fate would have it, Agent A and her Yoko Tanaka were sitting right across from Wednesday and Enid. Enid had always been observant and noticed right away the changing glances, the gestures... Yes, aside from the obvious (in case that kiss had left any doubt) the two women seemed to have a deep enough connection to have a silent conversation with a mere exchange of glances, Exactly like Weds and her.
But she also noticed how on occasion such glances were directed toward Weds and her. Especially towards her but also Saint-Clair on Yoko's part. Fleeting and furtive looks, but they were enough for Enid to determine that the vampire's eyes were filled with something similar to a mixture of anguish and longing every time her gaze accidentally crossed hers.
There was a pain contained in that expression. Enid remembered Agent A's words when she asked her if she had an Enid too.
I had, that's what she said, Enid thought, I don't need a wolf's nose to smell that something really bad has happened.
Finally, the vehicle came to a screeching halt and the rear hatch opened again letting in a breath of fresh air.
"We've arrived," Agent A said.
The group had to blink to get their eyes used to going from the relative darkness of the vehicle's interior to what appeared to be an extremely well-lit hangar with fluorescent lights. The place was a hive of activity, with soldiers and technicians coming and going, multiple vehicles, what looked like containers full of weaponry, etc. All the activity you would expect from a military base.
"Where exactly are we?" asked Pup, looking around with interested eyes.
"Mmm, I think we're underground," said Saint-Clair.
"You have good senses," said Agent A, "Welcome to the Nevermore Society's central base. A subterranean shelter that serves as protection for the civilian settlement even further below us."
"We have a mountain literally above our heads," Yoko said.
"Ma'am," interrupted Private Alford, "They have to pass quarantine, the procedure is..."
"I'll take over Alford, we'll go through quarantine with them in one of the briefing rooms," Agent A said.
"But the Director..."
"Weems knows where to find me. Besides, I know her and at this hour she'll be too busy playing diplomat," replied Agent A, before turning to Ottinger, "Eugene, you and your men better take a well-deserved rest, it seems some of your squadron have a hard time staying out of matters that are way above their jurisdiction."
Ottinger shot an irritated glance at Alford as he folded his arms, "Sounds like a good plan, boss."
"The rest of you, follow us," Agent A said as Yoko at her side made a mocking gesture toward Alford. Before the buffoon could say anything in protest, Ottinger pulled him away from the scene, dragging him toward the barracks.
After walking through multiple corridors of stern military aesthetics, the group finally reached an armored door that slowly opened after Agent A rested her hand on a sensor next to it. On the other side, to their surprise, was an exquisitely decorated room, a sort of lounge/dining room with a long table and multiple chairs, couches, bookshelves filled with books and even what appeared to be a fireplace.
"This is one of the reception areas of the living quarters for the agents. Please, make yourselves comfortable," Agent A said, gesturing to the various seats in the room.
As she spoke, Yoko walked over to an area that was clearly a bar cabinet and began pouring the contents of a thermos that was clearly blood. She turned a questioning look at the group, "I'd offer you something to drink but I don't think any of you are over twenty-one and the only non-alcoholic thing in here is blood. Oh, and I think some water."
"I think we're good," Wednesday said, taking a seat at one end of the table with her gaze locked on her local counterpart, "It's time to talk."
Agent A nodded, sitting down as well. Yoko merely stood leaning against the bar cabinet, watching as the rest of the interdimensional visitors settled around the table.
"Hell yeah," Taylor interjected, "I think I speak for everyone here when I ask... What. The. Fuck?"
"Perhaps you could tell us what you're doing here first," Agent A said, returning Wednesday's steady gaze, "The discharge of magic you used allowed our seers to detect it minutes before you materialized here."
Wednesday didn't respond, shooting a glance at Enid sitting next to her. The she-wolf leaned forward slightly, "We are randomly jumping from dimension to dimension to prevent the abduction of variants of Wednesday Addams."
What followed was a detailed explanation of what they knew. The Shadow Hydes, their capabilities, the fact that there must be a mastermind behind it all... Agent A and Yoko listened intently, but Enid could see there was no bewilderment or disbelief in them.
"Well, your situation is a solid seven on the weird-o-meter," the vampire said, taking another sip of blood.
"The creature you describe is dangerous, but it's nothing we're not prepared for here," Agent A explained, "Even if it could teleport into this facility, which I doubt given our magical defenses, everyone here is prepared to deal with supernatural threats."
"But the warning is appreciated anyway," Yoko said, with a fanged smile.
"Our turn for questions then," said Wednesday, "What is the Nevermore Society?"
"The Nevermore Society was born as one of many different secret societies and groups dedicated to paranormal research and defense," explained Agent A, "What set us apart from other groups is that in addition to keeping the world safe from things that go bump in the night, we were also trying to build a bridge of peace between humanity and the supernatural species."
"How idealistic," Woe said, "Though I'd say it obviously didn't go well."
"Well, it's not our fault, but in keeping the world safe we did screw the pooch a bit," said Yoko.
"What happened exactly?" asked Theo, "Because I'd say the outside world looked like an H.P. Lovecraft wet dream if that man had been capable of having wet dreams."
"Uh, Theo, ewww," muttered Dora with a grimace of disgust.
Agent A and Yoko exchanged a glance. The vampire shrugged and the Addams caught her breath before starting to speak again.
"We don't know all the details, but... approximately about twenty-five years ago, an individual designated in a category of his own as the Anti-Christ should have initiated the process known as Apocalypse. The problem is that he didn't, rebelling against his destiny."
"Uh... but that's good, isn't it?" asked Enid.
"Oh, yeah, fucking heroic of him," said Yoko, "But he screwed us all."
"This universe is build upon the source of multiple myths, legends and beliefs. Magic has always been strong here and our reality has always been shaped by the power of belief. All the old pantheons and Old Gods existed, exist or will exist. When the Christian Apocalypse was interrupted a causality vacuum was created and the cosmos overcompensated."
"And suddenly all the apocalypses and myths of the end and renewal of the world of all faiths kicked in at the same time," Yoko said, noisily finishing sipping the blood in her glass and dropping into the chair next to Agent A's, "Eldritch Gods, the fae, the Norse...all at once. Every event was designated as a Lament Configuration."
"Boiling seas turned to blood, cataclysms, monstrosities awakening across the globe, half of humanity falling into madness or mutated into deformed beasts, the moon partially devoured by wolves...," Agent A continued, "The dozens of secret groups and societies who knew what was happening did our best to save as many as we could. This shelter is our base and as I told you, the shield for a settlement of survivors below us. About two million people."
"That makes us the largest settlement on the continent. We only know of two others of similar size in North America with which we maintain some contact. One near where Los Angeles was and one in northern Canada. From our friends on the west coast we know of occasional radio signals across the Pacific, so we believe that in Asia or in some of the islands there are still humans holding out," said Yoko, "We also know there are more survivors in some corner of the Amazon, but we lack details."
"What about Europe?" asked Pup, quietly.
"Half of it is an ice desert inhabited by zombies and the other half a burning hell full of unspeakable things. We don't know the situation in the east of the continent and Russia, nor do we know what is happening in Africa," Agent A replied.
"And the UK is fairy territory and we only know that very weird shit happens there," Yoko finished off, "That's roughly how things are. Monsters and gods roam the surface and what's left of humanity and the few non-hostile outcast species survives in places like this or any other small isolated refuges they might have found."
A heavy silence fell over everyone present, taking in all they had just learned.
“Σκατά”, muttered Saint-Clair.
Finally, Taylor turned to Pup, "You know what? Suddenly the Cold War doesn't sound so bad. At least in comparison..."
"Oh, there was nuclear crap here too, it just fell flat with the rest of the stuff that happened," Yoko said.
"Anyway, if you wish you can stay for a while and rest for a while," said Agent A, "Any questions before I show you to your rooms?"
Enid raised her hand, shyly. Agent A and Yoko exchanged a quick glance before the Addams nodded toward Enid.
"Yes?"
"What happened to my local counterpart?"
§§§
They could have teleported instead of walking, but that would be too vulgar a use of their power as well as unnecessary. Besides, they liked to walk around their kingdom from time to time, observe the details, startle their servants with their unexpected presence. It was relaxing in a way, and it helped them organize their ideas. The plan maturing in their mind taking a more definite shape.
The Bright One descended deeper into their citadel, beyond the processing area and the cells that held the Wednesdays. To the heart of the very planetoid that floated in a dimension of pure nothingness. To corners so hidden and forgotten that even they had to stop to think for a moment, to remember the way to find what they were looking for...
The dungeons, the real dungeons, where they kept broken things and people that no longer posed any threat to them, or that could serve as occasional amusement. Or that they could use in some way.
That was what they were about to do, dust off one of their oldest tools.
The cell door was rusted metal, nothing special. It was so worn that the prisoner inside could have broken it down with minimal effort. But the prisoner would never do that. The Bright One knew that very well, they had tamed it a long time ago.
They opened the door. The inside of the cell was dark, illuminated only by a faint ray of light that penetrated through a hole high up like a rudimentary window. The floor was covered with dirt, remnants of half-eaten corpses and other unpleasant substances. It was better not to describe the smell. Under the beam of light, rested a motionless, crestfallen figure.
It was a woman, her dark brown and gray hair extremely long and disheveled, hiding her entire face. She was completely naked except for the multiple chains that covered her scarred body and kept her bound to the walls of her prison. She did not move but it was obvious that she was aware of The Bright One's presence. Every muscle in her body tensed in fear.
The Bright One smiled under their mask. They reached out one of their hands sheathed in their white armor and gently stroked the woman's hair. The latter did not move, holding her breath that until recently was one of the few sounds in the place.
"Shh, shh, easy," The Bright One said, "I thought you'd be happier to see me."
A pitiful whimper burst from behind the tangle of hair hiding the prisoner's face.
"I have a job for you, my dear," said the armor-clad figure, "Tell me, my hound, do you feel like going out and hunting a she-wolf for me?"
The only answer they received was a face rising, with a deranged look on the golden eyes of the half crazed, half deformed visage of a partially transformed Esther Sinclair.
NOTES
Well, if a Shadow Hyde can't get the job done, it's time to send in a crazy bitch (sorry).
Also, we have a concise explanation of what the hell happened to this particular reality. Finally, what befell the local Enid is left for the next chapter because I was afraid this one was dragging on too long, my apologies.
Ah, and a translation:
Σκατά: (greek) Shit.
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