Chapter 3: The Crypt of the Mind
The dorm room was a shadowed cage, its air thick with the musty scent of old wood and the faint, metallic tang of latent magic. The gas lamp flickered, casting jagged shadows across the peeling wallpaper, its floral patterns curling like whispers of forgotten secrets. The oppressive atmosphere of the room seemed to intensify, waiting with bated breath for something terrible to happen. Oliver Smoak stood frozen as the door creaked open, revealing Wednesday Addams, her raven hair stark against her black dress, her eyes piercing through the gloom like twin blades of obsidian.
She's not human. She's a storm in a dress.
His fingers twitched toward his tie, a nervous tic, as he forced a grin that felt more like a grimace. "Nice coffin," he said, nodding at her luggage, its dark wood polished to a menacing gleam. "Planning to sleep in it?" The joke was a flimsy shield, a nervous habit from his past life that he clung to like a drowning man to a piece of driftwood. It was a reflex, an attempt to lighten the mood, but her presence was a vacuum, sucking all humor from the air.
Wednesday's lips didn't move, but her eyes narrowed, a micro-reaction that cut through his bravado like a surgeon's scalpel. "Humor is a defense mechanism," she said, her voice low and precise, each word a scalpel. "What are you hiding?" The question hung in the air, sharp and unyielding, and Oliver's grin faltered, his heart skipping. She sees right through me. The cold, analytical gaze of a true predator.
The System's cold presence stirred in his mind, a silent observer, but offered no help. He shifted his weight, his boots scuffing the floorboards, the sound loud in the tense silence. He was a rat in a cage, and she was the biologist, watching his every move.
This is a chess game, and I don't know the rules.
Wednesday's psychic vision gave her a flash of Oliver's past—not of his modern life, but of something far more unsettling. A glint of a mirror, a shadowy figure. It was too quick to be useful, a ghost of an image, but it confirmed her suspicions. She eyed him with newfound, cold curiosity. His mind is a crypt. Something died in there. Oliver's fingers brushed his tie again, the fabric grounding him as Wednesday's gaze narrowed, a micro-reaction of suspicion. She's too sharp.
Then, a reprieve in the form of a whirlwind of pastel colors. Enid burst in, her lavender perfume clashing with the room's stale air, her presence a sensory assault. "Wednesday! You're here!" she chirped, her voice bright but strained, her fingers twisting in her sweater's hem. She gestured to her side of the room, adorned with fairy lights and posters, a stark contrast to Wednesday's barren half. "Want to see my setup? It's, like, super cozy!"
Wednesday's gaze flicked to her, cold and dismissive. "It's not a tour," she said, her tone flat, her fingers tightening around her luggage handle. "It's a crime scene."
Enid's smile wavered, her shoulders hunching slightly, and Oliver caught the hurt in her blue eyes. She's trying so hard. His chest tightened, a pang of protectiveness for Enid clashing with his unease around Wednesday.
Wednesday turned her attention back to Oliver, her eyes narrowing as she stepped closer, her boots silent on the floor. "Where are you from, Smoak?" she asked, her voice deceptively soft, her head tilting slightly. "Did your parents attend Nevermore?"
Each question was a probe, her gaze dissecting him, searching for cracks. Oliver's pulse quickened, his fingers brushing his tie again, the fabric grounding him. She's fishing. He forced a laugh, his voice light but strained. "Just a normie from nowhere special. Parents? Total muggles." The lie tasted bitter, his mind racing with fragments of a past he couldn't fully grasp.
The System's alert sent a chill down his spine, the air suddenly colder, the metallic tang sharper, as if the air itself was a warning.
The tension shattered as a faint tremor rattled the window, the glass vibrating with a low hum. Enid yelped, her hands flying to her ears, her eyes wide. Oliver's heart lurched, the System blaring:
The message was a jolt, and he glanced at Wednesday, her gaze now fixed on the window, a spark of interest flickering in her eyes. She's not surprised. The air crackled with unspoken understanding, the dorm's gloom heavier now, the metallic scent overwhelming. Oliver's fingers curled into fists, his mind racing. This is bigger than us. Wednesday's head tilted, her voice low. "We should investigate." It wasn't a suggestion, and Oliver nodded, the uneasy truce forming between them. The game had shifted, and they were players together—for now.
Love [ Wedneday : Wandless Wizard ]? Unlock More Chapters and Support the Story!
Dive deeper into the world of [ Wedneday : Wandless Wizard ] with exclusive access to 35+ chapters on my Patreon, plus new fanfic every week! Your support starting at just $5/month helps me keep crafting the stories you love across epic universes like [Grimm, Teen Wolf ,blacklist,Game Of Throne ,MCU and Arrowverse].
By joining, you're not just getting more chapters—you're helping me bring new worlds, twists, and adventures to life. Every pledge makes a huge difference!
👉 Join now at patreon.com/TheFinex5 and start reading today!