Chapter 2: Woe is the M in Murder
Steam filled the air, curling like smoke. A low humming drifted through the cabin, blending with the sound of scales dragging against wood. Snakes slithered across the walls, their bodies weaving through cracks as if the house itself was alive.
The bathroom door opened. A figure stepped out, wrapped in a towel, water dripping from her hair. Faint scales glistened along her neck, catching the dim light of the flickering TV.
On the screen, a live interview played. Officer Donovan Galpin sat at a podium, reporters surrounding him like vultures.
"So a man turns up dead, but we can't know how?" one shouted.
"It's being handled," Donovan muttered, trying to keep his voice steady.
"Handled? Just like you handled your son?" another voice sneered.
A snake slithered across the screen, blocking his face for a moment. A soft, shivering voice whispered, though no one on TV spoke it:
"Don't worry, Donovan… your fear is right. I don't forgive you."
A forked tongue slid across the glass, licking the static.
Willow Hill
Maximum containment was suffocating—air so heavy it felt like breathing through cloth. The walls dripped with condensation, the faint buzz of electricity humming through the security grid.
In the center of a reinforced cell sat Tyler Galpin, shackled in chains. His head hung low, hair covering his eyes. The floor beneath him was stained with burn marks from countless shock collar activations.
The cameras blinked red, then suddenly cut off. Footsteps echoed.
Judy stepped inside.
Tyler slowly lifted his head, his eyes gleaming with malice.
"I have a proposition for you," Judy said, her tone sharp but careful. "How would you feel… hunting again?"
Tyler chuckled, a sound that was more snarl than laugh. "You're screwed if you think I'm helping you."
Her jaw tightened. "Her name is Helena Drakos. Sixteen. A Hydra."
At the word, Tyler leaned back, a twisted grin spreading across his face. "Then you're already dead."
Judy scowled. "Maybe. But your father is in her crosshairs as well. So if you value him at all, you will—"
"SHUT UP BEFORE I RIP YOU TO SHREDS!" Tyler roared, his muscles convulsing. His body twitched, nearly transforming, until the shock collar ignited, sending waves of pain through him. He collapsed to his knees, laughing through gritted teeth.
"I don't care if he dies. He left me here. I'd watch it happen if I could."
Judy stepped back, fear flashing across her face.
"I can bring you Wednesday," she offered.
That made him pause. His grin widened, cruel and feral. "These chains can't hold me forever, Judy."
Her eyes narrowed, but she said nothing more. She turned sharply and stormed out, her footsteps echoing down the hall.
Outside, Judy's composure cracked. She paced, muttering under her breath, then extended her arm. A crow perched on it, glossy black. She tied a note to its leg.
"Fine. If he won't help me… then I'll bring her to him."
The bird took off, vanishing into the night.
The Sheriff's Office
Donovan sat slumped at his desk, rubbing his temples. His deputy, Ritchie, leaned against the wall, arms folded.
"Look, you wanna tell me why you're scared?" she asked.
Donovan's voice cracked. "It was an accident. I swear… I didn't think that Judy would—"
Ritchie put a hand on his shoulder. "Don't worry. If Helena shows up, we'll be ready."
Donovan froze. His head snapped toward her.
"I… I never told you her name."
The silence that followed was thick, broken only by the hiss of the air vent.
Then a scream ripped through the station.
Nevermore
The dorm was dark except for the pale glow of a black-and-white movie on the TV. Wednesday and Enid sat curled on the couch, a blanket wrapped around them, Thing sprawled across their laps.
"I hate contact," Wednesday muttered. Her hand shifted slightly against Enid's arm. "But surprisingly… this is not bad."
Enid giggled. "See? What did I tell you? Color is so the new Wednesday."
"Say that again and I will waterboard you," Wednesday said.
Enid just smiled, nestling closer.
Meanwhile, in his office, Barry leaned back in his chair, phone to his ear. The walls were cluttered with student badges and registration files for the new year.
"How many times do I have to tell you? I'm not wasting my time on talentless nobodies," Barry muttered. He swung his feet up onto the desk. "Uh huh, yeah. Well, money always helps. How much?"
In the courtyard, Wednesday and Enid walked hand in hand. Bianca intercepted them.
"Heard the news?" she asked.
Wednesday tilted her head.
"Donovan is missing."
Enid's hand flew to her mouth, her eyes wide. Wednesday's expression didn't change.
At the police station, Donovan's office had become a crime scene. His hat was gone. A dark pool of blood stained the floor.
Ritchie sighed. "So… a shapeshifter did this?"
An officer held up a bag with something cracked and pale inside. "No idea. But there was some shed skin."
Wednesday and Enid entered, their footsteps echoing.
"Well, well," Ritchie muttered.
"Save the small talk, side piece. What happened?" Wednesday demanded.
"What my girl meant to say," Enid said quickly, nudging her, "is what happened, girl?"
Ritchie sighed. "To be frank, we have no idea. But there's been murders. No clear suspect. Best bet is a Hydra."
"They don't exist," Wednesday said flatly.
Ritchie tilted her head. "Neither did humans—until we did."
The bag opened slightly. The shed skin stank of mold and rot. Enid gagged. "EW!"
Wednesday handed her a lollipop without missing a beat. Enid unwrapped it and looked away dramatically.
"So no information?" Wednesday asked.
"I shouldn't even be saying this, but it was an escapee from Willow Hill. That's all I know. No name. No description."
Enid turned sharply to Wednesday, panic rising. "No. No, no and no."
Wednesday studied her for a beat, then gave a small shrug. "Fine."
"Wait—" Ritchie gasped. "I need your help. Donovan might die!"
"If it's a Hydra, he's already dead," Wednesday said coldly. "Besides… I don't want to make Enid upset."
Enid bounced on her heels, smiling. "See? She listens to me."
They walked off, leaving Ritchie frozen.
The Sewers
The stench was unbearable—mold, rot, and sewage blending into something that burned the nose. Rats scurried across the wet stone as water dripped steadily from broken pipes.
Donovan hung suspended by chains, tied against the wall. His skin was pale, his breathing ragged.
Helena stepped into the light. The scales on her arms glistened faintly, her eyes gleaming like a predator's.
"This is where you made me," she hissed. "You couldn't stand your wife being gone. So you worked with Judy to create her. But it didn't work, did it? You kidnapped me. Changed me into… a monster."
"Helena, please—" Donovan rasped.
"Does Tyler know?" she sneered. "Does he know you experimented on a sixteen-year-old, just to bring your wife back?"
Donovan's body trembled.
"Just kill me," he whispered.
"Kill you?" Helena's laugh was sharp as broken glass. "Oh no. I want to take everything from you."
She leaned close. "How do you think Laurel knew Tyler was a Hyde?"
Donovan's eyes widened in horror.
"Your wife lives," Helena said simply.
"You lie," he spat.
She smirked. "Isn't it what you want? A family reunion?" Her tone darkened. "But first, that bird Judy… will be dealt with."
She turned to leave.
"Wednesday will stop you!" Donovan shouted, his voice cracking.
Helena paused, looking over her shoulder. Her smile was venom.
"Maybe. But even if she does, you'll be long dead before then."
Her footsteps echoed as she disappeared into the shadows.
"HELENA!!!" Donovan screamed, his voice swallowed by the sewer.
The Bowling Alley
The smell of fried food hung heavy in the air. Grease popped from the kitchen, and the buzz of neon lights flickered above. Enid sat across from Wednesday, sipping a strawberry-cherry milkshake. Wednesday nursed a cup of black tea, her expression as dry as ever.
"So, Weds… at the upcoming gala, will you dance with me?" Enid asked.
Wednesday's gaze softened just a fraction. "Anything for you."
Enid grinned. "I like it when you're not so dark and gloomy."
Wednesday smiled faintly. "Oh, trust me. Every smile I force makes me want to die in the most painful way possible."
Enid giggled. "That's the Wednesday I love."
They leaned in, sharing a kiss.
A small, soft voice broke through.
"Enid?"
They turned. An eight-year-old girl stood at the edge of the table, eyes wide.
"Claire!" Enid cried, scooping up her little sister. "What are you doing here?"
"Momma said you'd be here. Big brother drove me."
Enid beamed, holding her tight.
Wednesday sighed. "Great. More company."