Shing!
Three emerald-green snakes shot out from under the beanie, forked tongues flicking dangerously. One of them lunged straight for Victor's finger—
Crunch!
Venom's massive jaws snapped shut, catching the snake mid-strike.
Silence fell over the Quad.
Ajax's face went ghost white. "My snake!"
Venom chewed twice, then frowned. "Hmm... tastes like gummy worms."
Victor patted Ajax on the shoulder reassuringly. "Don't worry! Venom has a super efficient digestive system. In 24 hours, it'll be... uh, just some black sludge."
Wednesday offered her critique. "At least it's more nutritious than a rainbow unicorn pillow."
"Hey!" Enid stomped her foot, the heel of her boot clicking sharply against the stone. "That was limited edition."
Ajax reached up with a trembling hand to touch his beanie. The remaining snakes were shivering underneath the wool. "I need to go to the infirmary..." He stumbled away, looking like a man who had just survived a natural disaster.
"What is all the commotion?"
A girl with short hair and striking features approached them. Her arms were crossed, and her silver eyes glinted with a metallic sheen in the sunlight.
"Bianca Barclay," Enid whispered. "Siren. Don't mess with her."
Victor's eyes lit up. "Siren? Can you sing Under the Sea?"
He broke into an exaggerated dance move, nearly stepping on Wednesday's foot.
Bianca narrowed her eyes. "I could. But by the time I finished, you'd walk into the lake and drown yourself."
Victor fished a chocolate bar out of his pocket. "Want a piece? 82% cocoa. Dangerous and mesmerizing—just like your eyes."
Bianca stared at the chocolate, then suddenly raised her hand—
Slap!
The chocolate went flying, arcing through the air.
"I hate sweets," she said coldly.
Before Victor could react, Venom surged from his shoulder. The black sludge formed a terrifying face inches from Bianca's nose.
"People who waste food—" Venom's voice rumbled like thunder, "—go on the menu."
Bianca's pupils contracted. She took a half-step back.
Wednesday clapped slowly. "Bravo."
Enid jumped in to smooth things over. "Okay, okay! Victor, let's go check out the werewolf hangouts!"
Her nails involuntarily extended, piercing the fabric of Victor's jacket.
"Ow!" Victor yelped dramatically. "Watch the claws!"
Enid dragged him away by the arm. Bianca scoffed and turned on her heel.
Venom retracted into Victor, grumbling. "She smells like expired sea salt... disgusting."
"Wednesday." Principal Weems' voice carried across the courtyard. "Your parents are waiting for you at the gate."
Wednesday swept her gaze over the group, her face void of expression. "Try not to die before I return."
She turned and walked away, her black dress billowing behind her like a moving shadow.
---
Victor and Enid were left alone.
Enid let out a breath she'd been holding, then realized she was still gripping Victor's arm.
She quickly let go, revealing five small punctures in his jacket sleeve. "Ah! Sorry! sometimes I can't control it..." Her fingertips trembled slightly. The claws had retracted, but her nails still flushed an unnatural red.
Victor blinked. Instead of getting angry, he grabbed her wrist with excitement. "Whoa! Those claws!"
He held her hand up to the sunlight, inspecting it closely. "That is so cool! Can you peel apples? Can you open soda cans? Can you use them as box cutters?"
Enid laughed, her tension evaporating. "...Are you serious?"
"Dead serious!" Victor nodded solemnly. He pulled an apple out of his pocket—no one knew where he kept getting these things. "Want to try?"
Enid hesitated, then took the apple. Her claws extended again, this time on purpose. The sharp tips glided effortlessly over the apple's skin, peeling it in a single, perfect ribbon.
"Perfect!" Victor cheered. He took the apple back and took a huge bite. "Way better than a fruit knife!" Juice trickled down his chin, and a small tendril of Venom immediately wiped it away.
Enid looked down at her hands, her voice dropping to a whisper. "Actually... I still can't fully transform."
Her claws slowly retracted. "I can only do the claws, and I can barely control them."
Victor tilted his head, then tossed the apple core into a trash can five meters away with perfect accuracy. "So what? Venom tells me my brain is full of water all the time, and we're doing just fine."
Venom: "That is a factual statement."
Enid giggled, the setting sun turning her hair the color of honey. She poked Victor's shoulder. "You know what? You are really weird."
"Thank you!" Victor grinned, revealing two sharp canines. "That is the best compliment I've received all year!"
"Come on," Enid said softly, naturally taking his hand. "I'll show you the werewolf den." She was careful to keep her fingertips away from his skin, terrified of losing control again.
They walked along the stone path toward the west side of campus, their shadows overlapping behind them—an odd but harmonious pair.
In the distance, Wednesday stood at the academy gates, looking back once.
Their shadows overlap like poorly cut paper dolls, she thought.
The sun slipped quietly below the horizon amidst the laughter and whispers, and the Gothic spires of Nevermore were swallowed by the twilight.
---
The noise of the corridors faded, replaced by the specific silence of night, broken only by the rustling of unseen insects in the stone crevices.
Moonlight spilled over the windowsill like water, casting a cold silver glow into the room.
In the dorm, Victor was already asleep in his "Kingdom." Venom was draped over him like a black blanket, occasionally letting out a satisfied purr.
Enid Sinclair was wearing headphones, barefoot on the floor, swaying gently to the music.
Her blonde bob bounced with the rhythm, her pink pajamas glowing softly in the moonlight.
She was completely immersed in her own world. She rose on her tiptoes, spun around, her fingers tracing a fluid arc in the air—
Clack, clack, clack.
Wednesday Addams sat at her desk, fingers flying across her antique typewriter. Her eyes glinted coldly in the candlelight; every keystroke sounded like a death sentence being signed.
Enid's dancing grew bolder. She spun, and her heel came down—THUD—against the floorboards.
Wednesday's fingers froze in mid-air.
"Enid." Her voice sounded like it had drifted up from a crypt. "If you make one more sound, I will use your headphone cord as a garrote."
Enid pulled one side of her headphones off and blinked. "What? I can't hear you!"
Wednesday turned her head slowly. The candlelight cast dancing shadows across her face, making her look like a vengeful spirit fresh from the grave.
"I said—" Her fingers lightly brushed a small knife sitting next to the typewriter. "—Quiet."
Enid pouted and turned the volume down a tiny fraction—but her foot kept tapping. Her toes drummed against the floor.
Clack, clack, clack.
Thump, thump, thump.
The two rhythms clashed in the room like a silent war.
A vein throbbed in Wednesday's temple.
She stood up abruptly, marched over to Enid, and stared down at her.
"Do you know how the protagonist of my novel dies?" Wednesday asked softly.
Enid tilted her head. "Old age?"
"Torn to shreds by a pack of monsters because she was too loud." Wednesday smiled, revealing teeth that looked too white in the dark. "The descriptive details are very vivid."
Enid swallowed hard, but straightened her back. "You can't deprive people of their right to listen to music just because you want to write a book!"
"I can." Wednesday tapped the knife against her palm. "Especially when the 'people' have taste that is so..." She glanced at Enid's playlist. "...Nauseating."
Enid's cheeks flushed red. "This is Beyoncé!"
"It sounds like a cat being strangled."
"You—"
Enid's claws extended.
"Chocolate! Don't run!"
A sudden shout came from Victor's corner.
Both girls turned.
Victor was sprawled out in his Kingdom, eyes squeezed shut, yelling at the ceiling.
"Get after it!" Venom poked his head out of Victor's chest, looked around, and retracted.
Wednesday and Enid exchanged a silent look.
"At least he sleeps soundly," Enid whispered.
Wednesday stared at Victor for a few seconds, then turned back to her typewriter. Her fingers began to strike the keys again.
Clack. Clack. Clack.
Enid hesitated, then silently turned off her music. She curled up on her bed, fingers unconsciously picking at the edge of her duvet.
Moonlight drew a sharp silver line across the floor—dividing Wednesday's domain of darkness from Enid's rainbow nest.
A few minutes later, the typing stopped.
"If you must listen to music," Wednesday said without turning around. "You may use my gramophone."
Enid looked up in surprise.
Beside Wednesday's bed, an ancient gramophone stood silently, a thin layer of dust on its black vinyl records.
"...Really?" Enid asked cautiously.
"It is superior to your 'strangled cat'," Wednesday said coldly, though the hostility in her tone had dialed down a notch.
Enid ran over barefoot, curiously flipping through Wednesday's record collection.
"Mozart... Chopin... The Waltz of Death?" Her finger paused on a pitch-black record.
"That is my favorite." Wednesday's voice held a trace of imperceptible pride.
Enid hesitated, then placed the needle on the record.
The low, mournful sound of a cello began to flow, spreading like fog in the night. Enid found herself swaying gently to the rhythm, but this time, her movements were as light as a feather.
Wednesday's fingers returned to the typewriter, but this time, the rhythm merged strangely with the music.
Clack, clack, clack.
Thump, thump, thump.
The two sounds intertwined—no longer in conflict, but in a weird harmony.
In the corner, Victor rolled over. Venom poked his head out, glancing at Enid and Wednesday.
"Humans are weird," he mumbled, and closed his eyes.