Chapter 1: In Spite of It All

 

“So, I love you because the entire universe conspired to help me find you.”
― Paulo Coelho.

 

Wednesday Addams was no stranger to love. She had witnessed it in multiple forms for as long as she could remember.

And having clear memories from the age of two (and even earlier) combined with the fact that Gomez and Morticia Addams were her parents, meant that love was something that had been with her all her life. It didn't just manifest itself in the over-the-top romantic proclamations and acts of her progenitors, although this was certainly the most conspicuous manifestation in her household. No, Wednesday could feel the love in all the dishes cooked by her Grandmama, including her favorites (still alive so she could finish them off with the silverware). She could feel the love in all the old witch's gruesome stories and tales, in the quiet attention Lurch always gave her when she required it, in Pugsley's look of sickly devotion mixed with fear that made her wish she had more steps to throw him down the stairs, in Pubert's delightfully insane laughter as she threw him out of the greenhouse window, in Thing entertaining her by juggling sharp knives when she was a toddler, in Uncle Fester showing her his collection of photos of poorly healed scars, in the ever silent but omnipresent support and pride on the part of her parents...

So yeah, Wednesday Addams was no stranger to love.

Perhaps that's why, somewhat twistedly and without stopping to think too much about it, she began to see it as something mundane, just another element of her day-to-day life. Not for a moment did it occur to her that her parents were exceptional. In Wednesday Addams' mind she could not conceive of a lover not being as fully devoted to her paramour as her parents were to each other, but at the same time she did not consider herself the bearer of the capacity to express such a level of interest in anyone.

A romantic affair... was not something she had in mind. Ever. That was despite feeling occasional admiration for certain individuals (specifically a certain writer she revered more than others).

Not even when she met Joel.

Wednesday would never deny her appreciation for the boy (he was loyal, willful and brave when the situation called for it, with a certain propensity for revenge), but over time she was able to determine that her initial attraction to him was more a derivative of her interest in the young male's paradoxical ability to stay alive despite his potential mortality if he used the wrong shampoo.

The romance between the two did not continue despite Joel's genuine interest: scaring him half to death by causing a heart attack would make the boundaries clear. Miraculously and morbidly, a sincere friendship between them did persist despite that incident, the distance and the pathological overprotectiveness of Joel's parents.

After all, you don't set fire to a camp of racists with someone without a bond being forged.  

Hells, even in the disaster of a marriage between Uncle Fester and Debbie there was love, at least on his part. Wednesday would always be grateful that the ghoulish Addams had found Aunt Dementia soon after. She truly knew how to reciprocate his attentions with murder attempts that truly did come from a place of love.

But Wednesday had come to the conclusion that romance was not something for her. If even her fascination with Joel's mortality had failed to sustain anything beyond her initial interest... What was in it for her?

And then, one day, in a play session while trying to entertain Pubert with an invigorating catapult launch, Wednesday suddenly found herself transported without warning to another universe and with a set of sharp multicolored claws right before her eyes.

You know, it happens.

Everything that happened in that other reality, universe, dimension... whatever you prefer to call it, was an unexpected experience for Wednesday, and not for the reasons one might initially think. Yes, meeting other versions of herself was something a bit surreal, although not without interest, as a strong bond was established between her and her other selves that could only be described as sisterhood. Although on the other hand she could not deny a certain greater affinity towards some of her specific counterparts. Especially towards that dimension's native Wednesday, with whom she seemed to have more in common than with any other, despite marked differences in facial features and other minor details.

It was also undoubtedly stimulating to be involved in all the mystery surrounding her presence and that of the other variants in that reality, even though it all turned out to be a crude attempt at revenge-gone-wrong on the part of a novice witch. In any case, Wednesday supposed she should award points to the lunatic for trying. The doses of exhilarating violence certainly helped.

And also for the chance of knowing her.

As mentioned, Wednesday was no stranger to love, and finding that her counterpart from that universe had a partner shouldn't be shocking in and of itself. Nor that she was with another woman.

What was shocking was how the situation suddenly made her question and rethink many things about herself because suddenly a whole world of possibilities had opened up before her that she hadn't even seriously considered. It prompted Wednesday to examine her own self as she had seldom done before and she found that among other things her admiration for Mary Shelley, for example, was perhaps not entirely platonic.

In a little mental exercise, deep inside herself, she tried to imagine how things would have been with Joel if Joel were a girl and...

Yes, decidedly her affinity to the boy's potential killability was no longer the only factor of interest in that scenario.

(This also opened up another unexpected insight into her constant enjoyment of psychologically torturing Amanda Buckman at summer camp, but not even Wednesday Addams dared contemplate that possibility any more than she had to.)

But the worst of all, to her bewilderment, was the fixation she had begun to develop on Enid Sinclair, the paramour of her counterpart.

Enid.

Derived from the Welsh term eneit, meaning “spirit”, “life” or “purity”. The same name of the Celtic goddess and the Enide of the Arthurian myths. A romantic legendary figure of flawless perfection and great courage in life. Loyal beyond death.

An appropriate name, no doubt.

Enid Sinclair was a creature of contrasts. Bubbly, with a pathological affinity for color and plushies, and as radiant as a walking sun. But it was a sun that burned, that burned passionately and that enclosed within herself an implacable and magnificent beast, given her lycanthropic nature. It turns out that, aside from other superficial traits or other deeper factors of attraction, the image of a woman turning into a murderous hulk of muscle and fur caused... interesting sensations in Wednesday.

Women capable of becoming monsters. It seems she had a type after all.

With the mystery solved, the crisis overcome and their enemy defeated, her attraction did not stop growing no matter how hard she tried to keep it at bay. After all, Enid and the other, older Wednesday were already in an established relationship and the mere thought of getting in the way of that filled her with guilt and shame deep down inside. She could not, unfortunately, resist a goodbye kiss (only on the hand, of course) which fortunately her variant was able to understand. Even so, there always remained a small regret, a need to apologize that sometimes made her more irritable than usual.

The storm inside her did not subside back in her universe. It was true what they said, that distance from the loved one caused the heart to bleed for lost longings. Images of golden hair and wolves howling in the moonlight with fur spattered by the blood of their opponents had become recurrent in both her dreams and her waking. Arms covered in golden fur wrapped around her, claws sinking lovingly into her flesh. And an idea began to sprout in her mind, to emerge from the earth like a corpse revived. After all, logic dictated that if Wednesday Addams had a dimensional counterpart, the same could apply to Enid Sinclair.

Somewhere, in her world, there had to be another Enid Sinclair.

That led her one day to ask a question that was fundamental as a first step to follow.

 

"Father, Mother, are you familiar with a place known as Nevermore Academy?"

Gomez and Morticia looked up and exchanged a curious glance before returning their attention to their daughter.

"Why, of course," Gomez stated effusively, "It's where your mother was studying when I first met her!"

"You met at a funeral," replied Wednesday.

"Certainly," Morticia replied, "Nevermore Academy is an all-girls school. That didn't stop your father from visiting me on a multitude of occasions during my last year, walking through its walls like a thief in the night."

"A thief in love, cara mia ," said Gomez, kissing his wife's hand.

"Oh, I'm sure poor Larissa still has nightmares of you sneaking into our dorm room unannounced," Morticia said, with a nostalgic smile, "If I'm not mistaken she's still there, albeit as part of the faculty."

Morticia looked at her daughter with interest and a certain inquisitive look, "Why all this interest in Nevermore Academy, my child?"

Wednesday was quiet for a moment, before speaking in a calculated and fiercely controlled tone, "I might be interested in attending. As soon as possible."

Morticia, of course, noticed the longing in her daughter's voice anyway and while it raised more questions she supposed Wednesday would speak when she felt ready. The matriarch of the Addams Family smiled at her firstborn indulgently.

"Then I'll make a few calls, and we'll see if a mid-term transfer is possible, my darling."

 

And thus Wednesday Addams left behind the walls of the public school she had been forced to attend at the age of six, no doubt to the great relief of a considerable number of students and teachers, to embark on a new journey and a new quest, to find her own she-wolf.

 

§§§

 

 

"Oh, cariñito, nothing has changed! Those walls still look as slippery and insurmountable as they did when I was climbing them to get to you."

"It's a pity the principal back then never wanted to heed your suggestions to add a moat with crocodiles, mon amour."

"Tish! That's French!"

Wednesday merely rolled her eyes after exchanging a glance with Pugsley inside the family vehicle and proceeded to ignore the everlasting spectacle of her parents, keeping her attention on the window and the scenery beyond the glass. Lurch was driving with his usual dexterity (i.e., taking the traffic rules as polite suggestions and nothing more) and after his final swerve, Nevermore Academy was in sight. That in this reality it was an all-girls school was already a noticeable difference. Its male counterpart, the Usher Institute, was barely two kilometers away and joint extracurricular activities between the two schools were common. Despite this, the place was remarkably similar to the Nevermore of the other universe, although the horrendously sunny day spoiled the mood a bit and deprived the place of the proper atmosphere.

"I still don't understand why you want to come here," Pugsley said, snapping her out of her thoughts, "Okay, school's a pain, but it wasn't too bad either. And at least we were together if we needed to be."

"My motives are far beyond your meager reasoning skills, Pugsley."

"Yeah, say what you want. But don't think I haven't noticed that you've been acting weird lately," retorted the young Addams, frowning apprehensive, "Weirder, I mean. You don't even put strychnine in my breakfast cereal anymore. Even Pubert has noticed that you seem distracted at knife throwing. You! Distracted at knife throwing! And you spend all those hours cooped up in the library at home reading about werewolves..."

Wednesday didn't respond. She merely sighed quietly, returning her attention to the window and the ever-approaching Academy.

"See, that's what I'm talking about!" said Pugsley, "Not a threat, not an attempt to stab me or gouge my eyes out with a spatula! Nothing!"

"Pugsley, dear, your sister has her own reasons for requesting her transfer," Morticia interjected, her voice gentle but firm, "And she'll tell us them when she feels ready," she added, shooting a questioning look and a complicit smile at her daughter.

Wednesday narrowed her eyes.

"That's assuming I don't take them to my grave," Wednesday said.

"Well, that can be arranged...," her brother retorted, the threat pathetically evident.

That Wednesday's response to that was again to merely sigh almost longingly, half-heartedly, terrified him to no end. Pugsley would never know, and Wednesday would never admit it out loud, but she was enjoying immensely the psychological torture she was inflicting on her brother by indulging in her most lovesick behavior.

She almost smiled. Almost.

There were no more attempts at interrogation after that. Soon they crossed the threshold of the academy's outer entrance and promptly Wednesday found herself seated in a somber office, with her father to her right and her mother to her left. And across from her, behind a large desk, the smiling but clearly bewildered figure of Nevermore's headmistress and Morticia's former roommate, Larissa Weems.

Wednesday had heard of the Larissa Weems from the other universe. An imposing figure of great stature, both in a figurative and purely physical sense. A shapeshifter who loved her school above all else and was willing to do whatever it took to protect it. Even die.

The Larissa Weems of this universe on the other hand... was a woman of perfectly average height. And as far as Wednesday knew, from the information she had managed to glean from her mother, a normal human being with no extraordinary abilities.

That was the other detail. Her world had a much less overt supernatural presence than the universe she had visited. There were monsters and other supernatural beings, or outcasts as they were called in that other reality, but their number was either much smaller or they knew how to hide more to the point that a large percentage of the population did not believe in their existence even if it was more or less officially recognized. Nevermore was not, therefore, an academy exclusively for outcasts. A high percentage of the student body were painfully standard humans. But it was one of the few schools that accepted outcasts and had the facilities and means to cater to their specific needs, even if their presence was much more discreet.

Wednesday ignored much of the conversation between her parents and Principal Weems. Greetings, reminiscences of times past, academic and administrative details of Wednesday's transfer... since she had never been expelled from her previous school and her criminal record had only minor infractions (something she was partially proud of because it meant she had been able to cover her tracks successfully on more serious occasions) there was no mention of therapy sessions or other exceptional considerations. The only oddity was the fact of a student changing schools mid-year at her own request.

"How about we introduce you to your roommate?"

Now, that question from Weems did get Wednesday's attention. After all, in the other reality that had been Enid Sinclair's position. She tried to fight the longing and anticipation that began to well up in her chest as the headmistress, her parents, and she walked through the halls of Nevermore in the direction of the dorms. And she did well to contain them, for the disappointment was soon manifest. For one thing, her room wasn't in the tower. When the door opened, there was no visual shock setting her eyes ablaze. The room was... normal. There were no bursts of color or avalanches of stuffed animals. And besides that...

"Wednesday Addams, this is Hillary Hillard."

The young woman who came to greet her by extending her hand had straight black hair, a mousy appearance with large black-rimmed glasses and a hopeful smile marked by a conspicuous dental brace.

Wednesday did not return the smile, nor did she respond to the attempted greeting. There was no handshake. She merely surveyed who might be a potential nuisance to her presence at Nevermore with an indifferent coolness that would have reassured Pugsley had he been there instead of waiting in the car with Lurch.

Following the awkward silence, it was soon time for farewells. She bid goodbye to her parents, Pugsley and Lurch, demanding that they throw a bucket of acid at Pubert on her behalf so that the little boy would not forget his big sister's affection. But before her progenitors left, and after her father stopped crying in a pathetic emotional display, Wednesday had one last exchange of words with Morticia.

"I think I have a suspicion about your reasons for coming here, daughter," said the Addams matriarch, "I'm pretty sure it has something to do with whatever it was that happened to you a couple of months ago. Grandmama knows something too but flatly refuses to talk about it."

"Mother...," Wednesday began to say, but Morticia asked for silence with a wave of her hand.

"I understand. I know you will tell us everything when you think the time is right. And whatever it is you seek here, I wish you fortune in it. Just remember that even as brilliant as you are, sometimes your biggest obstacle is yourself, my little black widow."

After that, it was all like white noise in the background to her senses. She went into autopilot and not for the first time doubt loomed its ugly presence within her, wondering if she hadn't made a mistake. She picked up her uniform and proceeded to settle into her room almost mechanically in her efficiency, under the apprehensive gaze of her new roommate. That was the moment when the latter revealed that there was technically one last "ritual" left: she was to accompany Wednesday on a quick tour of the center's facilities for her to catch up.

"I know it's a pain in the ass, but it's orders from the principal and...," Hillary started to say, almost rapid-firing the words with her nervousness.

"Let's proceed then," interrupted Wednesday.  

Thus they found themselves traversing the corridors of Nevermore as Hillary skimmed through the history of the school. Wednesday for her part focused on watching the students come and go, hoping to find the face she had come for. It was as they approached the central courtyard (which Hillary curiously did not describe as a quad) that the universe finally threw up a response in her direction. There was some kind of commotion, and students clustered in large numbers around something in the center, near the fountain.

A girl was running in their direction. A dark-skinned, light-eyed young woman with long curly black hair.

"Bianca!" exclaimed Hillary, "What's wrong?"

"The psycho messed up again!" the young woman exclaimed, "I can't say anymore, I have to go get the principal!"

Wednesday watched her go, wondering whether or not she had just met her universe's counterpart to Bianca Barclay. If that was the case at least she'd have some interesting fencing classes. With nothing more to say, she continued on her way, with Hillary behind her, until she reached the center of the action. The Addams made her way, pushing other students out of her way until she could witness the scene unfolding.

With her back to her, she could see a stout-looking red-haired girl with a large build lying face down on the ground, covered in dust and mud. Above her, driving her knee into her back as she held and twisted one of the arms of the fallen opponent, stood another brown-haired girl much smaller but clearly stronger. From her position Wednesday couldn't appreciate all the details, but it was obvious that both had clear signs of struggle, rips in their uniforms, bruise marks and scratches.

"Apologize!" the brown-haired girl shouted over the redhead's back as she twisted her arm in an angle that was painful just to look at. She yelled in a hoarse voice that sounded almost like a growl, "Apologize to them!"

Wednesday saw that there were two other girls nearby, being both part of the scene and observers.

One she recognized instantly: she was obviously Yoko Tanaka's counterpart. She was identical in every way, and the Addams would bet she was a vampire in this reality as well, judging by her glasses and the pallor of her skin. Her brow was furrowed, glaring hatefully at the redhead on the ground though her posture also denoted her concern for the whole situation. She was holding another girl in her arms. Wednesday could only see blonde curly hair?

Could it be...?, she thought.

But she soon realized it wasn't the person she was expecting when the young blonde raised her tear-stained face, exposing a soon-to-be black eye from a punch. It wasn't Enid Sinclair, but oddly enough it didn't seem to be a counterpart of Divina either, despite her obvious familiarity with Tanaka.

And at that moment, Larissa Weems' voice echoed across the courtyard with a volume that if anything could do justice to her multiversal counterpart.

"ENID SAINT-CLAIR! LET GO OF MISS CARVER'S ARM RIGHT NOW!"

What?

The brown-haired girl let out a final grunt and released the redhead's arm. She stood up, turning around and finally letting her face come into view.

Wednesday's eyes widened wildly and she inhaled so loudly that it even drew a reaction from Hillary next to her, who looked quizzically at the Addams.

No, she thought, She can't be...

But she was. In spite of it all.

And it was all wrong.

Instead of blond hair with brightly colored highlights adorning the ends there was dark brown hair. And instead of luminous blue eyes as bright as a clear day's sky there were green eyes like the toxic fumes emanating from the swamp near the Addams Family cemetery.

But the face... the face was the same. No scars, but exactly the same in a way and familiarity that was almost painful. That was the face that had occupied Wednesday's dreams for the past few months and it was finally in front of her, but...

The affable, warm, friendly smile? Absent. In its place, a smirk of predatory smugness, almost cruel, like that of a cat playing with its prey. A smile that turned into inexpressive jadedness when Principal Weems planted herself in front of her.

Wednesday felt again as if everything around her had turned to white noise, but even more intensely than before. Immersed in her own inner turmoil and ignoring the voices around her, she paid no attention to the presence of Weems or the other teachers who had just arrived on the scene. She ignored what they were saying, disregarding their orders to clear the place. She barely felt Hillary grabbing her arm and trying to move her. The only voice she heard was her own inner doubt howling like a demented siren.

All the rest of her senses were focused on the person for whom she had come to Nevermore. Enid Sinclair.

At last, she had found her.

Except she wasn't Enid Sinclair, was she?

And so, just when she thought she had reached her destination, Wednesday Addams felt the ground vanish beneath her feet.

 

 

NOTES

Ah, poor Woe. Hope can be a b...

First of all, a thousand thanks for your patience. Many people have been demanding this story after reading Altogether Ooky and Kooky Spooky and I finally got around to it before tackling Creepy Mysterious. The problem is that what was initially going to be a one shot has been growing and finally we're going to have a multi-chapter story. A short story! I promise! 

I hope... 😅

Originally this would have ideally come out last month but... well, let's just say that my life on a personal level has gone through some stuff that have made me start taking the stories about The Curse of the AO3 writers a bit more seriously. That and this short story being more of a pure romance than anything else.... well, I'll let you guys be the judge, but I think it might have been a bit of a struggle for me. I'm better at action, comedy,horror and general weirdness, I think.

Anyway, I hope you enjoy it (if only as an appetizer before Part 3 of the main story) 😉