[Wednesday POV]
The Harvest Festival's clamor died the moment I left its glow behind. Bright stalls, hollow laughter, fried sugar—a gaudy fever dream decomposing in my rearview.
My destination was already chosen: the sheriff's office. A nest of incompetence hoarding something useful.
Rumors of "animal attacks" had circulated online. Perseus's laptop made it easy enough to dig through Jericho's buried news. Conveniently explained away by the sheriff's department as accidents or wild beasts. But I knew better. This ritual requires body parts, and someone was shopping.
I parked a block away, killed the lights, and slipped into the dark. The building stood ahead—squat brick, smug in its mediocrity. One rusting lock on the back door, a second-rate alarm system, and a camera so old it probably recorded straight onto VHS. Laughable.
Lockpicking was child's play. Disabling the alarm took less time than brushing my hair. Within seconds, I was inside.
The air reeked of stale coffee and paper. My footsteps clicked soft against tile as I moved between desks. Their security was so poor it almost offended me. A town plagued by outcasts, and their guardians were two doors and a donut-stained shirt away from uselessness.
The filing cabinets were easy to find. I pulled folders free, spreading photographs across the desk.
The images were… instructive. Bodies torn open, but not at random. Limbs or organs are absent. The cuts were too clean to be the work of an animal.
My eyes lingered on one autopsy report. Surgical incisions. Tissue consistent with sharp steel. Missing left lung, right hand, both eyes.
I traced a finger across the photograph, the pale face of the victim staring up at me, empty sockets where life used to be. Whoever did this wasn't an animal. They were an artist. A butcher.
The thought was almost comforting. At least someone else in this town had ambition.
Beside the files, evidence bags held trinkets taken from the victims: watches, wallets, cheap jewelry. I brushed my fingers across some, and with a twist of my wrist, they vanished, eaten by a black mass that circled my ring finger.
I glanced at the shifting, living slime Perseus gave me for my birthday. A storage ring, he called it. I could never deny its usefulness. Annoyingly convenient enough to overlook that he could use it to track my position and spy on me at any time.
My fiancé thought this counted as romance. Disturbingly, he was right.
I pushed the thought aside when a floorboard creaked in the hall.
Soft and barely there. Careful, but not careful enough.
Someone else was here.
I slid the file shut and hid behind the cabinets, knife slipping into my hand. Whoever entered next was about to regret it.
[Tyler POV]
I trailed her car through the sleeping streets of Jericho, keeping my headlights far enough back that I looked like any other night driver. My master's words echoed in my head: Get close to Wednesday Addams. She is the key to the ritual.
Easier said than done. She avoided people like they carried the plague and never left Nevermore unless she had a reason.
As for her boyfriend, Perseus? At first I thought he was just another smug teenager. But the moment his eyes locked on mine, I knew this would be more difficult than expected.
So, the question was: how could I gain her trust and befriend her? Maybe even step higher? Do I break them apart and use that as the crack to slip into her life? Through scandals? Lies? Finding something to undermine Wednesday or Perseus?
I couldn't just walk up and say she deserved more than half the love of a boy already bound to someone else and then expect her to suddenly decide I should be her friend… or her new boyfriend.
While I was still tangled in those thoughts, Wednesday's car rolled to a stop in front of the sheriff's office. With no hesitation she stepped out and, within seconds, slipped past the front door, bypassing locks and security like she'd done it a hundred times before.
I blinked. That was… impressive. Even I had to admit that.
Curiosity dragged me forward, silent as I could, keeping to the walls.
But as I turned the corner…
A knife flashed.
I ducked instinctively. The blade slammed into the doorframe an inch from my face, splintering wood. My heart nearly leapt out of my throat.
"Wait! Why are you trying to kill me?!" I yelped, stumbling backward.
Wednesday stepped forward, yanking the knife free. Her eyes were black and flat as obsidian. "Because you shouldn't be here."
My throat went dry. I scrambled for an excuse. "My—my father's the sheriff. I saw movement in the building, thought he might be here…"
Her expression didn't change. The knife gleamed between us.
I raised my hands, palms out. "Look, I'm not—I wasn't-"
"Pathetic," she cut me off, voice soft but sharp. She moved closer until the tip rested against my chest, just over my heart. Her tone dropped lower. "If the police search for me tomorrow, I'll kill your whole family before breakfast."
She said it like a weather report. How could someone like her still be roaming freely?
I swallowed hard, nodding quickly. My legs were jelly, but I forced myself to stay upright.
She tilted her head, studied me for one unbearable moment, then slid the knife back into her sleeve as if I'd already been dismissed. Without another word, she walked past me into the night.
"I don't know why you were here, but if you want I could hel-"
Her footsteps receded, the door shutting in my face.
Something snapped inside me. Humiliation curdled into rage. How dare she treat me like that? How was I supposed to complete my master's mission if she made it impossible to even get close?
Maybe I should just kidnap her. Kill a few unlucky ones and start the ritual immediately.
Or… I could scare her. Break her piece by piece. Bring her to desperation until she had no choice but to accept help. My help.
Yes. I would make her doubt everyone. Give her her father's criminal file, send her down false trails, let paranoia eat her alive until she was crawling at my feet.
My vision blurred, bones cracked, skin split, and the thing inside me crawled out, the Hyde.
I followed her into the night, waiting until she drove through the forest. Then I stepped out, a hulking shadow on the road, a few hundred meters ahead of her car.
The moment she saw me, she should have panicked. She should have run. But she didn't.
No. She looked right at me through the windshield—calm, pale face framed in black and smiled.
The Fiat lurched forward, its headlights blazing.
"Huh?" My Hyde throat tore the sound apart. Shouldn't she run away? Why do I feel like she's aiming at me?
She pressed harder on the gas.
The car barreled down the narrow road straight at me.
I leapt aside, gravel exploding under my claws. She didn't even brake—just yanked the wheel, spun the car, and came at me again, drifting like some demon ballerina behind the wheel.
Crazy. She's fucking lunatic.
I dodged again, but not fast enough. The bumper kissed the back of my leg, pain shooting up my spine.
And still, she didn't stop. She circled back. Again and again. Like a predator playing with its food. Each pass closer. Each turn sharper. The little Fiat howled through the curves, headlights slicing the forest, tire marks burning into the dirt.
What the fuck is wrong with her? I'm the monster, not her.
[Owl POV]
From my tree, the night was deliciously quiet. Perfect conditions to hunt a fat, juicy mouse.
But then I saw it. A monster barreling down the road. Behind it, a car. Inside the car? A girl giggling.
Then came the impact. The car clipped the beast, sending it stumbling into a tree. My branch shuddered. The monster yowled, flailing like a beheaded chicken.
The car drifted in a neat half-circle, stopping just shy of flattening the thing outright.
The girl leaned on the wheel, still smiling.
The monster wriggled free, hissed, and bolted into the woods, its dignity in ruins.
Silence returned, broken only by the car's idle growl.
I ruffled my feathers. This town was broken. The food chain made no sense here.
Monsters chased by children in suicidal tin cans? Not my problem.
I spread my wings and launched into the sky. Jericho could keep its chaos.
Vermont had better mice.
[Wednesday POV]
I returned to the Harvest Festival not with triumph, but with a Fiat that looked like it had survived a jousting match with a grizzly bear. The front was crumpled, claw marks etched everywhere across the paint.
Perseus and Enid were waiting for me on a rock at the edge of a quiet street, away from the noise of the festival. They didn't even look surprised.
I stepped out of the car. "I accidentally hit an animal."
Perseus's gaze slid over the shredded tires, the bent frame, and the unmistakable gouges across the hood. He didn't bother raising an eyebrow. "Sure, unintentionally."
With a sigh, he snapped his fingers, and a black-ink repair kit shimmered into existence, pulled from whatever void he kept his tricks in. Without a word, he crouched and began changing the destroyed tires, his movements efficient, almost bored.
Enid staggered a little as she joined us, moving with a strange wobble as if the ground was unsteady beneath her. When she reached the car, she pressed her palm to the hood as though it could steady her. Her usually bright posture seemed dulled, drained.
While she chatted casually with Perseus, I noticed faint stains on her skirt and understood her strangeness.
I slipped into the front seat of the car as they continued talking.
By the time Perseus tightened the last bolt and slid behind the wheel, the cabin still smelled faintly of burnt rubber and whatever foulness Hyde claws left behind.
As the car rolled forward, Perseus glanced at me. "So," he said casually, "did you have fun tonight?"
"Yes, but I'm not the only one who looks… thoroughly entertained," I replied, fastening my seatbelt with clinical precision. My tone was dry, my eyes flicking meaningfully toward the backseat. Then, without waiting for his reaction, I began to recount my discoveries. "There's a Hyde in Jericho, and someone is using it to harvest body. The Hyde is…"
I flicked my wrist, and a clump of coarse fur appeared in my hand. Closing my eyes, I let my vision sharpen, the gift humming through me as pieces began to align: the teenager who tried speaking to me at the festival, the same face lingering at the sheriff's office, always appearing in the wrong places at the wrong times.
He wasn't just unlucky. He was stalking me.
"…the guy from the festival," I said at last.
Perseus raised an eyebrow, mild surprise flickering across his features. "Oh, good insight."
Enid leaned forward, her voice uncertain but curious. "What are you talking about? A Hyde?"
I turned slightly, studying her through the dim light. "A Hyde is a creature bound to a master. On the surface, it looks like an ordinary human, but it can transform into a grotesque, towering killing machine."
As for how could I be so certain the animal I ran over was one? Simple. When I was twelve, Perseus gifted me a book cataloguing every outcast species still wandering the world. In it, the Hyde was described as a puppet: once transformed, it obeys its master's every command without hesitation. Personally, I suspect the monster enjoys its work far more than the stories admit.
Enid shivered slightly. "Why would anyone even do that?"
I answered flatly, "Remember Rowan? And his delirious talk about prophecy?"
"Yes…" she murmured.
"One of my ancestors cursed a spirit. Someone wants to bring it back. And they need bodies parts for the ritual. The Hyde provides the supply chain."
Enid frowned. "How powerful is this spirit? Shouldn't we… tell someone? The authorities?"
Before I could respond, Perseus spoke, his voice calm. "Don't worry. The spirit is weak. A group of normies could kill it if they knew its weak spot."
Enid tilted her head. "Then why would anyone waste time resurrecting it?"
"Because they don't know that." The corner of his mouth curved into the faintest smile. "Never interrupt your opponent while he is in the middle of making a mistake."
He thought for a beat, then said casually, "If I were them, I would plant bombs on the school buses and detonate them on the next school trip." He paused, then added with unsettling calm, "Or, if you want something slower, then wait until the Rave'N Dance. Throw some deadly gas into the sprinkler system and have fun watching them choke."
For a moment, the car went still. Enid and I both turned toward him at the same time, though for very different reasons.
Enid murmured under her breath, almost to herself, "I honestly can't decide if you're the smartest person I know or the scariest."
The answer was obvious. His mind was unmatched in its beauty. How could anyone not be drawn to that?
Perseus only chuckled, eyes fixed on the road.
The rest of the drive was quiet.
After a while, we returned to Nevermore Academy. Enid vanished to scrub glitter from her face, Perseus trailing after her with the same resigned patience he showed when repairing our car.
I dropped my coat on the bed and sat down at my writing desk—not to write, but to think. The typewriter waited, keys untouched since this morning's failed attempt at fiction. At this point, my life offered more plot twists than anything I could invent.
Today may mark a new point in my investigation. There is a Hyde with a master lurking behind the scenes. That means I need to pay attention to at least two people, one of which is the sheriff's son. Through him, I would find the puppet master behind the curtain.
"How poetic," I muttered. "The sheriff lectures on justice while his own son keeps the morgue in business."
I glanced at the mirror across the room.
My reflection stared back, composed, unblinking, untouchable. But a faint smile tugged at my lips, and in my eyes there was a hint of madness.
Summoning Crackstone, commanding Hydes, even killing in my honor. Jericho truly knows how to make itself worth my time.
************
Author's Note:
I passed 2 out of 3 exams, so all good! Thanks to everyone who supported me and now we're back, cooking with the eldritch being. Heheh
Also, I started playing Hypixel Skyblock again after 5 years and… fuck me, how much has changed. If before I was mid-game, now I'm basically early-game all over again. So if any reader happens to be a billionaire with a spare Hyperion or golden dragon pet lying around… please donate to this poor guy, hahahah.