Everyone remained motionless for an instant. An instant that seemed to last forever.
It was as if a bubble of silence had fallen over the place, even isolating the noise of the Poe Cup celebrations still being held by students outside. A silence finally broken by the sound of the bulky trophy falling from the hands of a perplexed young Enid Sinclair, crashing to the ground with a crash.
As if it were a signal, the teenager Wednesday Addams took a step forward, instinctively placing herself between the colorful werewolf and the newcomers.
She tried to ignore the hint of a smile that formed for a moment on the face of Enid's older doppelgänger as she witnessed her move.
“Who - or what - are you?” she asked.
Wednesday, the older one, merely sighed, suppressing the impulse to raise a hand to her forehead. “We'd better clear this up before my teenage distrust derails everything,” she said, glancing at her younger self, “Grandmama's chambers. Second set of shelves on the left. Third shelf. The book with the purple spine bound in komodo scales.”
An expression of surprise crossed the young Wednesday's face for a split second. To merely human eyes it would have been barely noticeable, but her entire body language visibly relaxed. The thin dagger passed back from her hand to be hidden in some nook of her uniform.
“At ease, Sinclair,” she said, without taking her eyes off the visitors. Behind her, Enid had inadvertently extended her claws. The young werewolf let out a small gasp of surprise before retracting them again, hiding them behind her back and with a slight blush of embarrassment on her cheeks.
An embarrassment that was soon replaced by an inquisitive expression directed at her roommate, “Wednesday?” she asked, “What is all this? Is this some time travel bullshit?”
Enid, the adult one, couldn't help but laugh when she heard the question from her younger self, “Ha! This brings back memories…”
“No time travel, Sinclair,” replied the teenage Wednesday, “They're visitors from an alternate universe.”
“Wait, what?!” asked the young werewolf, “Like in superhero comics? And how can you know that?”
“Because my... counterpart present here has just mentioned a book in my grandmother's personal library that deals with the subject and that nobody outside my family could know about,” said the teenage Wednesday, stepping forward until she was standing in front of her older look-alike, “You truly are me.”
“A variant of you, although I confess that of all the ones I've met, you're the one who most resembles me,” replied Wednesday, glancing around the room, “The same room, and I imagine similar circumstances to your arrival in Nevermore...”
“Perhaps.”
“Dalton. Piranhas.”
“Mmm, what Wednesday did is public knowledge,” Thing intervened gesturing from the girl's shoulder.
“But that the piranhas were hybrids of the Amazon piranha and the Sumatran crimson piranha bred in the aquifer lake under the Addams Mansion is not.”
“Wait... Of all the ones you've met, you say?” the young Enid interrupted suddenly. “There are more of you?”
“This isn't our first rodeo when it comes to multiverse stuff,” said Enid Addams, rubbing the back of her neck, “Let's just say that our last year in Nevermore was more interesting than usual.”
“Oh. My. God,” replied her younger self. Her nerves had calmed down a little but not completely. And how could they? The visitors might have been from another dimension, which was crazy no matter how you looked at it, but Wednesday seemed very sure of it and her roomie was the kind of person who probably knew a thing or two about such unusual situations. And even if they were from another universe, Enid couldn't help thinking that there was something of time travel in all this.
I mean, they are clearly adult versions of ourselves!
Enid had always been observant and couldn't help focusing her attention on the visitors now that it was more or less clear that they weren't a danger.
The two Wednesdays were talking, exchanging information in what seemed less an attempt to confirm identities than to look for divergences. And the years had been kind to Wednesday. The adult was only slightly taller than her teenage counterpart, but her beautiful features, although recognizable, had a greater... sophistication? Yes, that. Sophistication, undoubtedly enhanced by subtle makeup that played up the contrast of her pale skin. Her eyes seemed even darker and it was easier to lose oneself in them (Why on Earth are you thinking these things, Enid? she asked herself). Her hairstyle was the same, the everlasting braided pigtails. She was dressed entirely in black, with a high-necked jumper and trousers that hugged her very slightly curvier figure.
Enid had thought that her roommate was beautiful from the first day she met her, but her future self seemed to be even more so. She was definitely a sight to behold.
Enid only realized that she had become lost in thought while watching the two Wednesdays when, next to her, she could once again hear a familiar giggle. She turned to find herself face to face with the amused gaze of her adult counterpart, who was watching her with a knowing smile.
Enid blushed again, trying to focus her attention on something else, but she couldn't help but glance back at her other self.
And she couldn't help her nerves and some apprehension from surfacing again because... what the hell.
There were recognizable elements. The blue eyes, the same familiar smile, the colorful outfit consisting of a pink tank top and short jeans... But her adult self was pale, almost corpse-like (Almost like Wednesday, she thought, trying not to wonder why she found that comforting) and she couldn't help but notice the unusually sharpness of her teeth. And she was tall. Very tall. Ridiculously tall. Taller than any other member of her family pack. And the muscles! Wearing that tank top, you'd have to be blind not to notice those arms. Where had it all come from?
And then there were the scars.
Enid Sinclair did not consider herself a superficial person, but seeing her own face (older, but clearly hers) marked in that way caused a small canine whimper to escape her throat.
Her older self looked at her with... no, it wasn't pity. Affection and sympathy, of course, but not pity. She flashed her a smile, now more reassuring, which instantly calmed the younger werewolf.
“Weds,” said the adult Enid, attracting the attention of her wife, “Maybe it's time to tell them why we're here and explain the situation.”
“Right, mia cara lupa, we must…”
“What,” interrupted the young Wednesday, suddenly uneasy again. Thing jumped off her shoulder at the sudden increase in tension in the girl and scurried to a corner under the bed to continue observing the scene, intrigued by what he had just heard. Seeing her roommate like that also made the young Enid go back on her guard.
'“I beg your pardon?” said the older Enid,
“What… have you called each other?” asked the young Wednesday in an unusually nervous tone, almost fearful, “Why are you using those… pet names?”
“Uh… Oops,” said Enid, “Erm, maybe it's better if you don't…”
“No,” Wednesday interrupted, “We are here for a specific purpose. And this is another universe, not our past. The existence of our situation will not be compromised by any alterations our presence may cause.”
“Yeah, yeah. But don't you think that if they know about us it could make things a bit awkward for them? Don't you remember what I was like in our first year?”
Heteronormativity and comphet were such a pain in the ass.
“Enid, querida, I don't care what universe we're in or who we're in front of,” Wednesday replied with a fervent conviction worthy of Gomez himself, “I don't intend to be ashamed or hide from anyone that you are my wife.”
“WHAT!?” exclaimed the two teenagers. Thing fainted.
“Ugh, look what you've done!” said Enid, “Okay, okay, calm down girls... It's true, my name is Enid Addams...”
“OMG!” exclaimed the teenage Enid, throwing her hands up in shock, “OMG! OMG!”
“I've always found fascinating that you can shout out an acronym so easily.”
“Not the time, Weds!”
The young Wednesday, for her part, seemed to have been paralysed in a rictus of horror.
“Wonderful,” her adult self sighed sardonically.
And as if that were not enough, the door to the room suddenly opened. A petite, middle-aged woman with glasses and unkempt red hair entered the room with an expression of calculated concern.
“Girls!” exclaimed Marilyn Thornhill (also known as Laurel Gates), “What is this racket? What is going on…?”
She couldn't finish the question. Not necessarily because her brain paused for a moment to register the unusual scene before her eyes with two adult replicas of her students present in the room.
No, she couldn't finish the question because in a fraction of a second a semi-transformed Enid Addams jumped in front of her and hit her square on the head, knocking her unconscious.
THUD!
A tenuous silence reigned once more after Thornhill's resounding fall to the ground. Even the teenage Wednesday seemed to come out of her paralysis, watching the scene with astonishment.
The moment of calm did not last long, broken by the young Enid Sinclair.
“WHAT THE FUCK!?”
§§§
Varadi Addams-Needler was convinced that it was all too much for her.
When her Aunt Wednesday told her the plan, the teenager responded to the request with aplomb, eager to take on a certain responsibility. She didn't know all the details, only that her aunt had had a vision that they were going to be attacked, that they should keep the events of the day as unchanged as possible and that when the time came Varadi should take charge of the children and keep them safe and wait for a sign that everything was under control.
But in the end nothing was under control, because at that moment the young woman found herself alone in the empty living room of Wednesday and Enid's house. Well, empty only if one did not count the presence of Cousin Intruder in the walls.
“So, after the attacker died... they teleported?”
“I think so,” replied Intruder, “From in here I don't have a clear view of everything, you understand. But it certainly wasn't like what your gizmos do when you come and go to visit. That noise and that ozone stench... it was as if lightning had struck them.”
“And you say it was the woman dressed as an astronaut?”
“Yes, although she seemed just as surprised and alarmed as the others. I don't think it was deliberate.”
The young woman began to pace nervously around the room, “Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit... Okay, Varadi, calm down... I'm sure they're fine. They've just all disappeared at once. Although you don't even know if they're alive, and if they are you have no idea what godforsaken corner of the multiverse they might be in.”
The young flesh golem couldn't help but let out a nervous whimper, “I can't do this on my own, I need an adult.”
“Varadi, you are an adult,” said Intruder.
“Damn it!”
Any other possible complaint that could escape her lips was interrupted by the thunder of four pairs of feet running down the stairs and the children bursting into the room.
“Varadi!” exclaimed Day.
“Day!” replied the golem, “What are you doing down here? I told you to wait in your room...”
“But Varadi...”
“No, Day, I made it very clear that...”
“Where are our parents?” asked Geraint.
“Guys, I'm trying to...”
E̶̛͓͙̝̤̣̓̈̏̈́͐̃̍͑͆́̌̈͛͘͝͠ Ň̷̞̯̜͕̳̣͍̋ͅ Ớ̵̧̟̠̱͐͂̅̈́̈́͒̅̑͗̓̽́͘͠͠ Ŭ̸̧̮̦̒̅̇̌̓ G̵̨̢͓͎͚̻̖̲̦̠͓̈́̋͂͆̉͗̑̄̏̄̐̒̽̕͘ͅ H̷̡̞͚̦̖̥͍̾́̑̈́̋
All eyes turned to look at Rissa. The young girl was still maintaining her ever-present smile but it had taken on a sharp edge. And she hadn't spoken, not really, but everyone felt that word being pronounced in the depths of their being as if she had whispered it to their very souls.
Varadi took a breath, calming down.
“Okay... okay,” she said, “Day... children... what are you doing here?”
“Rissa had one of her omens,” the werewolf girl explained, “She says that someone is coming to the house, and that it's not good.”
Oh, great, thought Varadi, As if things weren't complicated enough already.
“Well, first of all... Attie...”
“I've got my things ready,” said the boy. And sure enough, he was dressed to go out and with his backpack on his shoulders, “Rissa said it could be dangerous to be here and that it was better for me to go back to my house.”
Beneath the nervousness and fear, Varadi could feel the boy's sadness. It was obvious that he wanted to stay and help his friends, but if Rissa had asked him to leave it was because the situation was going to be dangerous in a way that could be risky even for an Addams. And Attie was not an Addams.
The teenager knelt down and gave the young boy a hug, “Then go quickly. And don't worry, we'll be fine. As soon as everything returns to normal I'll send these gremlins to let you know, okay?”
Attie nodded and prepared to leave, walking towards the main door, but not before receiving another hug from Day that almost cracked his ribs.
“Be careful,” said the girl.
“You too.”
And with that, he left.
“Very well... Rissa, do you have any more details?” Varadi asked the strange little girl.
Rissa made a gesture in reply, pointing to the walls.
“Hide?” Geraint asked, turning his head like a dog, “Instead of engaging in battle?”
“Hey! If Rissa says it's better to hide, then we hide,” said Day, punching his cousin and rival in the shoulder.
“Okay...” said Intruder with an air of resignation from inside the wall, “If there's no other choice...”
“Intruder?” asked Varadi.
“Go down to the cellar. Girls, between the old oven and the chests in which your mother keeps the stuffed animals with which you practiced voodoo, you will find a switch hidden between the fourth and fifth bricks from the bottom. Press it and it will open up an access to the spaces between the walls.”
There was no time for more questions. The teenager and the children in her care followed the instructions quickly, descending into the dusty, cobweb-filled darkness of the cellar and finding the access described by Intruder. The brick wall trembled and a section of it separated slightly from the rest, sinking backwards and leaving a gap through which an adult could slip with little difficulty.
The inside of the wall space was not what Varadi expected. Perhaps Intruder had decorated it, or perhaps it was part of the magic of the house, but it was not so different from normal corridors. Maybe just a little narrower, and with vertical ladders to climb up. Continuing on their way, after the secret door closed behind them, they ended up in...
A small living room.
A small living room whose existence should be impossible if one were to consider the external dimensions of the house. But there it was, with a rug, a sofa, a shelf with books and a small table with an old radio and a lamp that filled the place with a warm light.
Yes, it was definitely something to do with the magic of the house.
“Welcome,” said a voice they recognized. A woman entered from another access on the other side of the room. It was the first time they had seen Intruder in person.
She was not a very tall woman, but she had a strong, muscular build, wearing what looked like a simple T-shirt and sweatpants. And a head covered with lush brown hair that hid...
Well, they weren't hiding anything.
Because she had no face. No eyes, no nose, no mouth.
“You're a noppera-bō!” exclaimed Day, enthusiastically.
“Yeah, yeah, I guess so,” said Intruder, with a certain tone of annoyance, “I'm from Glasgow, damn it.”
While the young ones were exploring the place, Varadi approached Intruder.
“How safe is this?” she asked.
“As long as we don't make any noise, no one should realize we're here,” said the faceless woman, “Although it depends on how much they want to find someone or the methods they use. A search with magic or certain technologies would detect us. But there are deeper hiding places to move to if necessary.”
She gestured towards the wall. There was a series of small slits through which a faint light shone.
“Through those we can see the main living room, but from the other side only someone who gets very close to the wall and knows where to look can see these slits,” Intruder explained. ”Let's take a look.”
“I want to watch too!” exclaimed Day, suddenly appearing between the two of them.
“Day!” replied Varadi.
“Okay,” said Intruder, “But keep your voice down,” she turned to Geraint, “And that goes extra for you, at least I don't have to worry about Rissa.”
“Hey!”
“Shhh!”
They waited for a few minutes that seemed like an eternity. Just as Varadi was beginning to wonder if perhaps Rissa hadn't made a mistake, the blonde girl suddenly inhaled sharply and her eyes opened wide with alarm. Murmurs of voices came from outside.
“There they are,” whispered Intruder. At her side, Varadi looked through the small slit in the wall and could see the trespassers.
There were two of them. Adult men, white, red-haired, dressed in crimson robes. And they were identical.
“Twins?” whispered the teenage golem.
“No,” replied Intruder, “Holy shit, they're him.”
“What?”
“The same guy. The initial attacker. They're him, they're identical to him.”
Varadi frowned. Okay, either identical triplets or clones, or something else equally strange. It was something she could live with and it would surely end up being the most manageable of everything that was happening. Trying not to think about it any more, she returned her focus to spying on the strangers, listening to what they were saying.
They seemed cautious, nervous, looking around as if they feared being ambushed at any moment.
“So this is where our Prime died,” said one of them. Looking at him, Varadi could see that he seemed slightly older than his companion. Not by much, but there were more wrinkles on his face and marks around his eyes.
“Yes, he got carried away,” replied the second, in a much more relaxed tone of voice than the other, “I know the Primes like to go hunting, but ours was going too crazy.”
“Hmm, no sign of the Addamses yet,” said the first, “Have you checked the sensor readings, Norman Two?”
“Hey! Why do I have to be Two?”
“Because I am obviously One. At least between the two of us,” replied the self-proclaimed Norman One, “Out of deference to my age and experience. I was recruited to the cause long before you, after all.”
“Yeah, yeah, what a load of crap,” grumbled Norman Two, although he chose not to continue the discussion. He plunged his left hand into his robe and after searching around a bit he pulled out a device that looked superficially similar to a Geiger counter, “Let's see, let's see... Oooh, this is interesting.”
“What?” asked Norman One as he approached to examine what appeared to be scattered remains of ash. The little that was left of Norman Prime, surely.
The Mistress was expeditious about failure.
“There are very abnormal traces of energy here,” said Norman Two, “Remains of quantum alterations, dimensional leap...”
“There's nothing unusual about that, you idiot. It's how we got here, isn't it?” he pointed to the pile of ashes, “It's how he got here.”
“No! Look!” Norman Two replied indignantly, “It's nothing like that! This place is full of traces of persistent interdimensional energy, like our Sanctuary.”
“Oh, shit,” said Norman One, with an expression of disgusted alarm, “Do you know what that means?”
“Yes! There has been constant and regular activity of access points opening and closing between different universes in this house! It's revolutionary!”
“No, idiot! It means that the Addamses who live in this reality can travel through the multiverse like us!”
“Oh! That's new. But that's... that... Oh, dear.”
“Screw it, let's go back to the Sanctuary. We have to report this, it's possible that those Addams have a way of tracking us and that's why they were able to discover Prime ahead of time.”
Suddenly, the two men's attention was drawn to the sound of the outer door being thrown open, a loud singing voice and the sound of struggling. Soon a third Norman Normanmeyer entered the room. Unlike the other two, this one was more distinguishable, wearing green sunglasses and having his red hair styled into a mohawk.
But the most remarkable thing was how he was holding a struggling Attie in his arms, clutching him tightly and covering his mouth with one of his hands.
They didn't hear it, fortunately, but from inside the walls a faint gasp was heard for a second.
“Hey, guys! Look what I found!” exclaimed the third Norman.
“What the hell?” muttered Norman One, incredulous.
“Uh... Norman... er... Norman Three... Who is that kid?” asked Norman Two.
“I materialized outside to make sure no one was sneaking out of the house and I found this little runt walking in the direction of the neighbors from here,” replied the newly named Norman Three, before raising an eyebrow, “Hey, wait... Three?”
“Don't start,” said Norman One, keeping his gaze fixed on Attie. The boy had stopped struggling and had become very still, looking at the men before him with visible fear, “He's no Addams,” said One.
“Eeeh? And how do you know that?” asked Norman Three, “I saw him coming clearly from this house.”
“Maybe he's a neighbor?” said Norman Two, “We know that some iterations of the Addams are more sociable than others…”
Norman One approached, kneeling down to come face to face with the child. “Let him go, Norman Three. Our little friend isn't going anywhere. Isn't that right?” he asked, trying to make his voice sound kind and warm. Somehow that made it worse, the falseness oozing from his voice.
Attie did not reply in any way. He simply kept his gaze fixed on Norman One. It was impossible to tell if it was out of pure fear or a futile attempt at defiance.
“Let him go, Three,” Norman One repeated. With a snort, Norman Three released the child. Attie didn't move. The boy knew that if he tried to run he would be caught immediately.
As if he could read his thoughts, Norman One nodded with an indulgent smile, “Good boy. Smart boy. You're not an Addams, are you?”
Attie didn't answer.
“But you know them. It shows. There's an air about you... It's their strangeness. It's already infecting you.”
Attie didn't answer, but he frowned slightly.
“Ah! Anger,” laughed Norman One. “You're young and it's forgivable that you feel affection for those freaks. But you can still be rescued from their clutches and you can lead a useful life. A normal life.”
The way he pronounced the word “normal” made Attie feel nauseous. Ironically, they had managed to make the word sound unnatural.
“But if you know them,” Norman One continued, “Maybe you can tell us where they are. You see, we wanted to have a chat with them but it seems they're not here.”
Attie remained silent, although part of him wondered where Day, Rissa and the others were hiding.
Norman One continued to look at him, frowning slightly, “You know something, don't you? You know something about what happened here. Believe me, boy, it's better if you talk.”
But Attie still didn't answer.
“Well, if there's no other option,” said Norman One, getting up and taking a silver sphere from his robe. He held it in the palm of his hand and the object changed, becoming a kind of rod. Sparks of electricity shot out of one end.
“I recommend you start talking, young man,” said Norman One, bringing the rod closer to the face of the terrified Attie.
“Hey! Hey!” shouted Norman Three, alarmed, “Fuck, hunting Addams is one thing, but we're not going to torture some random kid.”
“Haven't you heard anything One has said?” said Norman Two, with a chilling lack of concern, “The boy is clearly being indoctrinated by the Addams. This could be a purification for him. That way he won't end up like our Junior.”
“Last chance, son,” said Norman One, bringing the metal rod even closer to Attie's face to the point that the boy could feel the heat, “Where are the Addams of this house?”
But. Attie. Didn't. Answer.
Norman One sighed, closing his eyes and frowning with resignation.
“Very well,” he said, preparing to...
But he couldn't do anything. Because at that very moment Norman One received the answer to his question but in a way he hadn't expected.
The living room wall shattered as something flew through the air and crashed into him. A mass of black fur, muscles, teeth and sharp claws, howling with an overprotective animal rage.
Norman One was unable to celebrate receiving his answer when Day's lupine jaws, on her first wolf out, on a moonless night, closed on his throat.
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