The day had turned out to be a complete waste.
And to think it started out so well, thought Bianca Barclay.
It was the day of the Poe Cup. Possibly one of the most important days of the entire school year at Nevermore, if you excluded the Rave'N and Parents' Weekend (Bianca always ignored that one). The Poe Cup was supposed to be her day, another triumph for the personal list of achievements that made Bianca Barclay more real every passing year and allowed her to bury the memory of Brandy Jane a little deeper until she was nothing more than a bad dream, until she didn't have to think about her anymore, or about her mother.
And it had all been ruined by Enid Sinclair and Wednesday Addams.
Bianca frowned, more irritated with herself than with the whole situation. She knew that such an interpretation of the events of that afternoon's competition was not entirely just.
After all, Sinclair and Addams had won fair and square. Well, not entirely fair, but it was all allowed and within the spirit of the competition.
It was basically an established rule that anything went in the Poe Cup as long as you avoided truly lethal extremes (accidental mutilation was frowned upon, but more tolerated). The competition was, after all, a way for young outcasts to develop their competitive spirit and make use of their skills in a way they rarely could in the world outside the walls of Nevermore.
Irony of ironies: what Bianca and many other students didn't know was that such a competitive spirit was the result of the former members of the Addams family who had contributed to the founding of Nevermore.
Her poisoning of Yoko Tanaka was a fairly clear example of that spirit softened by the years. Just enough to incapacitate her, but measured with the exact precision so that it would not be anything more serious than a day in the infirmary.
It was true that Bianca still felt a little bad about having to resort to something like that to sabotage Sinclair's team, especially considering that the vampire was one of the few people at the academy she dared to call a friend and not merely another follower of the trail of her popularity. What's more, Tanaka was one of the few members of the Nightshades with a brain in her head, which was always appreciated. But precisely because of all that, Yoko was the strongest link in the opposing team, and it was imperative to get her out of the way. Addams hadn't even been a real part of the equation until the last minute.
And in the end, it had all been for nothing.
Hell, the guilt was even worse because she couldn't even justify the sabotage with a victory or offer a gracious apology from a position of triumph.
Nope, Bianca would have to go without access to the fang's exclusive cocktails for a while. At least, assuming the vampire didn't decide to get creative when asking for her apologies.
But anyway, that was how things stood. Sinclair and Addams had won, apparently by rigging their canoe with all kinds of weapons and, if the rumors were true, using some kind of living severed hand that seemed to be Addams' pet or something. Kent had stuck to his story that he had been hit by a floating fist underwater.
It sounded so stupid that Bianca was convinced it had to be true.
And then there was the whole mess with Xavier... no, better not dwell on that particular can of worms.
She had been so lost in her thoughts about the disastrous day that she didn't realize she had barely touched the meager dinner she had picked up from the cafeteria, not feeling hungry since she had nothing to celebrate. The quad had emptied out and only a few stragglers remained before heading back to their rooms. Kent and Divina were with her, keeping a respectful distance.
They looked at her as she got up silently, ready to go to her room after returning the tray of food, barely touched. That was when Bianca saw them appear, entering the quad from the entrance to Ophelia Hall.
Sinclair and Addams, strutting around like the new queens of Nevermore, accompanied by...
...
What the fuck...? Bianca thought.
Bianca resisted the urge to rub her eyes, mainly because that would have meant dropping the food on the floor.
What she did was gently put the tray back on the table and exchange a quick glance with Divina. The other siren had also noticed the new arrivals to the quad and seemed just as stunned as she was.
Sinclair and Addams looked like... Sinclair and Addams. Still in their uniforms and walking with a hurried gait, the werewolf visibly nervous. Resting on Addams' shoulder was an amputated hand that seemed to move and gesture with its fingers.
So that was true after all.
But what had caused the shock among the siren was due to Sinclair and Addams' companions, who appeared to be... Sinclair and Addams too?
But that was impossible, it couldn't be them.
For starters, they were two adult women. True, one was identical to Addams. She looked exactly how Wednesday Addams would look with a decade or so under her belt.
And the other... well, the other was even more interesting.
Because her face was Enid's, albeit a few years older but perfectly recognizable... except for the deep scars on her visage, the extreme paleness of her skin, and the sharpness of her teeth that could be glimpsed in her smile. Oh, and she seemed to have grown several feet taller and developed enough muscle to make the strongest and biggest fur in school look like a newborn puppy.
Their appearances were so shocking that it took Bianca longer than usual to register that Enid's pale She-Hulk version was carrying an unconscious Marilyn Thornhill over her shoulder, as if she were a sack of potatoes.
Okay, on the scale of weird, that was definitely in the alarming range.
Ignoring her own common sense and driven by a curiosity that had gotten her into more than one mess in her childhood, Bianca started walking toward them.
She needed to know.
§§§
“We're going straight to Weems' office. If anyone asks, we're taking Thornhill to the infirmary. And as for us, we'll just say we're distant relatives on a surprise visit. We don't owe anyone any explanations. Understood?”
Wednesday's plan was... simple. Not very elaborate. Born out of pragmatism and urgency more than anything else.
Having a clear idea of her next steps should have helped calm her down, but Teen Enid was still nervous. How could she not be?
Adult versions of her and Wednesday from another dimension had appeared with a story that Wednesday (and the entire universe, actually) was in mortal danger. Oh, and they also had information that one of their favorite teachers was actually a homicidal xenophobe, whose plan they were about to expose right now in a conversation with Principal Weems.
And they were married!
They had children!
For some reason, even with everything that was going on, those last two points were the ones that kept repeating themselves in her mind. It didn't help that her eyes kept wandering over to Teen Wednesday and her adult counterpart.
God, she's going to be even more gorgeous.
She almost tripped when that thought crossed her mind like a burning asteroid before exploding in the atmosphere, leaving behind another pile of very personal self-questions. Teen Enid realized that her cheeks were turning red again and didn't even bother to try to hide it because she could hear the quiet giggle beside her. The young wolf glanced sideways at her adult self, who was walking beside her, looking at her with a smile.
Her adult self! That was another complicated matter. On the one hand... the scars. Seeing them made Teen Enid feel apprehensive and fearful at the thought of being marked in such a way. But the other Enid seemed proud of them, and even a blind person could see that the older Wednesday visibly adored every last feature of her wife.
Teen Enid could have sworn that even Teen Wednesday had cast a few appreciative glances at her adult self before covering her face again with her mask of controlled indifference.
But the way Thing laughed perched on her shoulder gave her away.
“A penny for your thoughts?” asked the adult Enid to her younger self.
Teen Enid flinched slightly before looking back at her counterpart (and deliberately ignoring the unconscious teacher slung over her shoulder).
“Uh... er... I... can I ask you something?”
“Sure,” Enid replied, “Although I reserve the right to hold my tongue...”
“Oh, of course, of course,” replied the teenage Enid, “Well, I'm just curious... I mean.. you mentioned... daughters?”
“Twins,” replied the adult Wednesday from further ahead, “Friday Saturday Addams and Larissa Tuesday Addams.”
“But we call them Day and Rissa for short,” added Enid.
“Larissa?” asked Teen Wednesday, raising an eyebrow.
Teen Enid had also noticed the name. “Wait, as in Principal Weems?”
“We named Rissa after her, to honor her memory,” Wednesday replied. The “Tuesday” in the middle name of her child was also meant to honor another sacrifice, that of Agent A, but their younger counterparts didn't need to know the horrors of that story.
“Principal Weems is going to die!?” asked Teen Enid, visibly alarmed. Teen Wednesday tried to keep a straight face, but Enid could sense that even then, when her relationship with the principal was undoubtedly still extremely antagonistic, the idea of her death did not sit well with the young Addams.
“Not if we can help it,” said Wednesday, “We've already knocked the culprit unconscious, after all.”
The two teenagers looked at the unconscious Thornhill... no, Laurel Gates, over Enid's shoulder. Teen Enid didn't suppress the small growl that escaped her throat, a wild sound that Teen Wednesday hadn't heard before and that made her raise her eyebrows at the same time as a strange but not uncomfortable sensation settled in her lower abdomen.
She could barely suppress the urge to whisper “loba magnífica”.
After that, trying to calm the brief spike in tension, Enid continued talking about her daughters, and Teen Enid realized that she loved listening to her. Both girls sounded like little terrors, one of them a werewolf as wild as only a werewolf from the Addams family could be, and the other so strange that she made almost everyone else in her family seem normal. But what truly caught Teen Enid's attention most was the unconditional love she could hear in her adult counterpart's voice when she talked about her little girls. No reproach, no unrealistic expectations of any kind, no attempt to censor who they were in order to adhere to a predetermined image.
The two girls could have been normies and their mom would have loved them just the same.
I'm not going to turn into my mother, thought Teen Enid. And she was a little saddened by the level of comfort that thought brought her.
Finally, they reached the quad, and Teen Enid's nerves resurfaced because, despite how late it was getting, there were still quite a few students around.
Although her adult self didn't seem to have a problem with that.
“Ah, how nostalgic!” said Enid, sniffing the air with her eyes closed. “I missed this scent. It was never the same after the renovations.”
“Although the burn marks on the stones gave this bland pentagon some personality,” said Wednesday, “And no, before you ask, it's not going to happen, and I don't suggest you try setting anything on fire yourself,” said the Addams, looking at her teenage self before she could open her mouth to ask.
But then Wednesday leaned toward the young woman and whispered in her ear, “Not without ensuring a good alibi first.”
“Weds, we can hear you,” Enid laughed. Her teenage version seemed torn between alarm and feeling scandalized, or laughing nervously. The adult werewolf shook her head amusedly before glancing back at the quad, “Gosh, it's Divina and Kent! Look at them, they were just babies.”
“And here comes young Bianca walking toward us,” Wednesday pointed out.
Sure enough, the young siren was heading toward the strange quartet with a spring in her step and an inquisitive gleam in her eyes, trying to project more confidence than she was undoubtedly feeling when she stopped in front of them with her arms crossed.
“Sinclair. Addams,” she greeted them, unable to avoid focusing her gaze on the two strange adults, “I suppose it's only fair to congratulate you on your victory.”
“I told you I'd prove I was better than you,” replied Teen Wednesday.
Teen Enid poked her gently on the shoulder, causing the young Addams to look at her incredulously, a frown beginning to form on her brow. But the young werewolf was not deterred, “Wednesday! Be a good sport!”
“No, I'm a loathsome sport. My victories are full of gloating and feeding off my opponents' tears.”
“Oookay...” Bianca muttered, “So... I couldn't help noticing that you have company.”
“How transparent of you,” said the adult Wednesday, with a hint of amusement in her voice.
“I beg your pardon?” said Bianca.
“Ha ha ha!” laughed Enid. “Sorry... Uh... we are... err, well, my name is... Emma. Emma Volvaugr, and I'm a distant cousin of Enid's. I decided to come visit her on this... er... special day for the school... Oh, and this is a cousin of Wednesday's who, coincidentally, had the same idea. Her name is... uh...”
“Wenceslas.”
Enid looked at her with an expression that said, “Really?” Teen Enid kept looking from one to the other with growing alarm. Teen Wednesday just raised an eyebrow, while on her shoulder, Thing was once again shaking with suppressed laughter.
“Wenceslas,” Bianca repeated, “Okay, sure, why not? And tell me, Wenceslas, Emma... how come you're carrying one of my teachers around unconscious?”
“Oh!” interrupted Teen Enid, “Miss Thornhill felt unwell when she came to see us in our room and fainted.”
“We were just about to take her to the infirmary,” said Wednesday.
“To the infirmary,” Bianca repeated.
“That's right.”
“The infirmary that's in the opposite direction from where you were headed. That infirmary?” said the siren.
Wednesday frowned slightly, not so much out of irritation as out of trying to remember.
“Uh,” she said, “I honestly forgot. The cursed renovations.”
The two Enids facepalmed. Teen Wednesday narrowed her eyes. And Thing finally fell from her shoulder to the floor, writhing in convulsions in his merriment.
§§§
Tyler Galpín left his job at the Weathervane hours before closing time.
He rushed out, without even taking off his work uniform, dropping the cups of coffee he was about to serve and ignoring his boss's shouts behind him threatening to fire him.
He ignored everything. The only thing on his mind was the steady pulse that was drilling into his brain.
In a last glimmer of sanity, he thanked the fact that the streets of Jericho weren't very busy at that hour, because he could feel the change beginning. Anyone could have seen that the eyes on his face were already disproportionately large. His skin was turning a sickly gray, and sharp teeth were beginning to peek out from between his lips...
His skin burned and his clothes felt like sandpaper. He began to tear them off, his nascent claws shredding the cloth with ease.
He had felt this before, but never like this. Laurel had told him about it, about how she was now his mistress and how they had a unique bond between them. On the rare occasions when she was kind to him, it was almost comforting. The rest of the time, it was like feeling a noose tightening around his neck.
(A noose that felt better and better).
But now it was different. He noticed it without warning at the Weathervane. Tyler felt as if something had been ripped out of him, and suddenly that noose around his neck was an iron collar with spikes digging into his flesh. He felt all his instincts screaming inside him, howling like a caged animal.
He knew immediately what it meant, even though Laurel had never explained it to him.
His mistress was in danger. Something had happened to Laurel. And it was his duty to protect her, to keep her safe, to shield her. He would tear to pieces anyone who stood in his way.
Tyler Galpin ran, leaving behind the streets of Jericho and plunging into the darkness of the forest, charging toward Nevermore.
He also left behind the last remnants of his humanity, as the Hyde's roar filled the air among the trees.
NOTES
Oh, look. More complications brewing. Yay 😄
And also... A teenage Enid looking at an adult version of Wednesday: “Oh, fuck, she's hot.” It's another multiversal constant, I'm sure of it.
Translations:
loba magnífica: (spanish) magnificent she-wolf.
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