Amidst the crowd of students, tourists, locals, and pilgrims stood a girl and a boy. Avoided by all four groups not because they carried some sort of infectious disease, but because if you met the girl's gaze, you died; and the boy, he looked like he'd murder you for real.
Well, not that they cared much. They're on their break right now, still half an hour left. Wednesday glanced at the man beside her; she still hadn't left his side. The only thing in Wednesday's mind right now was how to get inside that meeting house exhibition; and Adam Cain beside her, who's only getting more and more mysterious.
'No man could stay conscious from a strike like that.' She thought, recalling the altercation earlier. 'The plank snapped; he should've at least bled.'
But there was none. No blood; he didn't even look fazed. She checked the side of his head again; none. 'He staggered', but Wednesday could deduce it's simply from the force, not pain. 'And his mask… why did they run? What did they see?'
Her frown deepened; she thought she got closer, knowing his relationship with Weems should've at least taken her one step closer. Of course, things aren't as simple as they seem. 'One step forward, and another path opens up.'
Maybe she should just kidnap those two, torture them to talk. She shook her head at the idea, shelving it in a deep corner in her mind. You never know. Wednesday sighed; this obsession would be the death of her one day. A death she'd gladly face. In pursuit of truth, her life is just another chess piece she'd sacrifice to win.
They're currently standing near the meeting house, killing time as many would say. They looked like a couple, a disturbing, heavily macabre couple. A short goth girl whose eyes could kill and her boyfriend who'd strangle you to death if you breathed wrong.
Wednesday glanced at the meeting house, remembering something she saw. 'The backdoor. That could work.' She pondered. She turned around, looking at the fudgery, to Mistress Arlene's figure, watching them like a mother hen or a hawk.
Seems she doesn't like her very much. She glanced at Adam before returning to the meeting house. He's… quiet, more reserved. He's been like that since earlier, like someone had flipped a switch inside him. It bothered her in a way she could not understand.
Silence reigned between them. Both just watching as people passed by, some glancing at them. With fear, with eyes that seemed to say 'weird.' Wednesday doesn't care in the slightest. All her life, that's all how people have viewed her. The freak, the strange and weird girl. A couple more wouldn't hurt.
Moments later, just as she was reflecting, Adam broke the silence. "Why are they afraid?" He muttered, more to himself than to Wednesday. Nonetheless, she answered. "Because we're freaks."
Adam turned to her, a questioning gaze in his eyes. "Freaks?" He asked. "Freaks, Outcasts, monsters - all the words you could think of. That's why they're afraid." She said without looking back, "Humans are naturally afraid of things they can't understand. Fortunately, or otherwise, they can't understand us."
Silence, once again, reigned. Adam pondered on what Wednesday said. Afraid. Why are they afraid? "Are we not humans too?" He replied. Wednesday's eyes met his. For the first time, Adam could see emotions other than apathy, emotions he doesn't quite know yet. "Does that matter? Humans could fear other humans."
Adam remembered the first time he'd walked the halls of Nevermore. How his fellow students looked at him - a mix of fear and curiosity. How the locals looked as they got off the bus - disgust and fear. How those two earlier ran as fast as they could - again, disgust and fear. Even Larissa, now that he remembered, once looked at him with fear.
Fear is all that he's ever been given. He saw, but he didn't understand. Now he does. "Do you fear me, Wednesday?" He asked in a low, almost beseeching tone. The girl lifted one of her eyebrows, a sardonic look tingeing her once unknown eyes. "And here I thought you were smart."
Adam, embarrassed, turned away. His eyes looked at the passerby's again. Sarcasm is not yet his strongest suit. Perhaps, one day.
"I'll be going to the Meeting House." She suddenly said, checking if Mistress Arlene is still looking. Adam looked at her in surprise. "But it's closed."
"I know." Wednesday replied, "I'm going to break in." Before he could reply, she turned around, heading for the back. Adam looked conflicted, but his curiosity, the demon on his shoulder, whispered. He too wanted to know what's inside. Adam ended up following behind Wednesday. Moving carefully as not to alert anyone.
Soon, they reached the building's backdoor. Wednesday clicked her tongue, seeing it padlocked. "Do you have a wire with you?" She asked, turning to Adam. The boy shook his head.
Wednesday crouched down, grabbing a stone from the ground. She raised her hand upward, preparing to strike the old padlock down. But as she was about to, Adam stopped her. "It'll make too much noise." He grabbed the stone, throwing it away.
Wednesday frowned. "Then what's your plan? We've got 10 minutes." Adam took a step closer, gripping one hand around the padlock. The cold metal met his glove, then he pulled, taking the whole latch off the door without so much as an effort.
He threw it in the field of tall grass near the forest, making it seem as if it's never locked in the first place. "Let's go?" He said, turning to Wednesday's perplexed form. What did she just witness? Wednesday's mind began conjuring questions, but before she could voice out any of them, Adam went in.
Inside, the collection of everything Joseph Crackstone is in display. Artifacts, paintings, some books, and the most creepy of them all, a life-size clay statue of him in the middle. His borderline morbid smile, his uncanny eyes, as if he's looking through you. Everything about him screamed bloody murder to Wednesday's mind.
She put her bag down on the table, letting Thing out. The severed hand covered in stitches greeted her with a wave to which she replied with a nod, letting him know what to do. Wednesday turned around, ready to investigate just to see Adam staring blankly at Thing. His body was still, like a deer to approaching headlights.
In the silence of the room, Wednesday could hear his breathing turning ragged, like he was catching his breath. He stared at Thing with an intensity Wednesday could feel in the air. This looked… strange. She stepped closer, snapping her fingers in front of him.
Adam snapped out of his trance, covering his eyes in what appeared to be embarrassment. "Ah- I'm sorry." He said, turning around to distract himself with the displays. He tried, but Wednesday could see how his gaze lingered on her strange servant - or friend, or family - a second longer than necessary.
She took mental note of his behavior, something she'd been doing for a long time now. 'No time to waste.' With that, she started looking. Anything that could provide some clue, some light in her vision.
"*Knock, knock*." A sound came from her right. Thing perched on the table, pointing upward to a giant painting. She stepped closer, behind her was Adam who heard the noise as well. "The Old Meeting House, 1625." She muttered, analyzing the painting.
Joseph Crackstone, standing behind a pyre, surrounded by his fellow pilgrims, men and women. What caught Wednesday's eyes, however, was the person in the far left. 'The girl from my visions. She's even holding the same book.'
She glanced at Thing, she signed something with her hands, pointing at the girl in the painting. Then she turned to Adam, seeing him even more absorbed in the work than she was. She could see his eyes moving, perhaps memorizing the painting, then finally, "That book." He said, pointing at the girl familiar to her, "It's here. Behind that statue."
Without hesitation, Wednesday turned around, approaching the displays behind the statue. "This is the book." She said, a tinge of a smile forming on her face. "Codex Umbrarum. That's Latin for "Book of Shadows."" She added, more to herself than to the two.
Wednesday unfurled the book, expecting answers only to be disappointed. Blank pages everywhere. "Great. It's a fake." She said, downcast even in her flat tone. "I don't know who Etsy is, but I doubt she was an outcast settler."
"My books have the same name. I believe it's a shop." Adam said beside her. "Let's go back, they might be—" before he could finish speaking, the door burst open. Mistress Arlene came in, her obnoxious face frowning. "Just what the fudge are you two doing here?"
Adam and Wednesday looked at each other. Resigning to their fate in being berated by this OC.
—-
It didn't take long for Wednesday to get to Weathervane. Escaping Pilgrim World was as much a joke as the establishment itself. She literally walked through the exit, and no one stopped her. Someone accusing her of being a witch would've at least made things interesting.
Wednesday's currently standing in front of a bulletin board inside the café. Each note pinned says a different country. This place was much more famous than she thought. She counted at least 21 countries and 36 different states.
"I thought you were supposed to be at Pilgrim World." A voice from behind her said. Wednesday turned around to see Xavier, an apron hanging on his neck while wearing the Weathervane uniform.
"I deserted it while my sanity was still intact." Wednesday replied as she stepped closer to the counter.
"Oh, yeah? Want a coffee? It's one of the many perks of this wonderful assignment." Xavier said, smiling.
"I'm actually here for Tyler." Wednesday replied. Just like that, the smile went away.
"I told you he was bad news." Xavier said, serious.
"Yes. But who I speak to is my business." Wednesday rung the counter bell prompting Tyler to get out of the storage.
"You rang?" He asked Wednesday, her head turning to Xavier signaling for him to leave. "You want the usual?" He added.
"And some help." Wednesday answered, "You know the original pilgrim meeting house, the one from the 1600s?" She laid out a map of Jericho on an empty table.
"Do you know if it's still around?" She asks. Tyler thought for a while before answering, "What's left is out in Cobham Woods, but it's pretty much a ruin."
"Show me." Wednesday points to the map. Tyler's hand points to a place in the middle of the forest. A high-point, "There, but, look, it's kind of sketchy. Squatters and meth heads use that place as a crash pad. My dad has it cleared out every couple weeks."
Tyler paused before asking, "What's this about?"
"Nothing." Wednesday replied quickly, folding the map again. "You're becoming obsessed with this monster in the woods thing."
"Would you rather I develop an obsession with horses and boy bands? And yes. Thank you for the help." Wednesday turned to leave, but Tyler spoke again, "Hey, you've heard right?"
Wednesday tilted her head, asking for clarification. Tyler looked at her unsure. "You know, that Nevermore student dad found at the forest after the Harvest Festival?"
Questions formed in Wednesday's mind - student? What student? She stepped closer, coming face-to-face with Tyler as curiosity filled her eyes. "Tell me."
—-
The ruins of the old meeting house wasn't as intact as Wednesday thought. Not even 50% of it was left. It most probably rotted or destroyed by storms and other natural disasters. All that's left of the place was broken wooden walls and a fireplace.
Thing looked around, as disappointed as her, "I was expecting more too."
From behind Wednesday, an old crackhead homeless man appeared. Beard disheveled and his breath stinking like he hadn't showered since 1625, "Who are you talking to, little girl?"
Wednesday looked at him unbothered, more pissed about what he called her, "Use the word 'little' and 'girl' to address me again and I can't guarantee your safety."
"This is my place. Get out!" The crackhead yelled. Wednesday looked at Thing, "Thing, a hand here."
Thing climbed up the man's legs, startling him. Not even high do you imagine a sentient hand climbing up your legs. Thing choked the crackhead 'till he got out the meeting house. The crackhead screamed as he ran in the woods.
A tiny chuckle escaped Wednesday's mouth, terrifying people really gets the best of her. She looked around again, without interruptions this time. "There's nothing here." She muttered, the disheveled place was burnt, collapsed.
Thing came back, standing on the doorway, he tapped his fingers on the wooden plank, his language. "I know something is off about him. I just can't put my finger on it." She replied. Thing tapped again. Wednesday tilted her head, sarcasm tinge her eyes. "Really? That's your best guess? An insecure faceless who wants to hide his 'face'?"
Wednesday sighed. "He has eyes, Thing. That should've been the first red flag." She paused, remembering the 3 idiot pilgrims. "The 2 that ran, they were locals. They've probably seen faceless Outcasts before, why run this time?" She asked. Thing answered with a shrug, pointing out another thing.
She nods. "We don't know for sure. The sheriff didn't say much to Tyler except a student was found. It could be anyone." She replied with a sigh.
"Another thing, his… inhuman strength. He could be a werewolf, but he's too quiet, too reserved." Thing tapped his fingers on the wood. Wednesday nodded, agreeing with him. "You're right. I'm losing focus, the meeting house."
She stood still for a second, quiet. "Except there's nothing here." Wednesday narrowed her eyes, trying to see if she's missing something. Thing signaled something again. Wednesday looked at him incredulously. "No, I can't just touch something. My visions happen spontaneously."
Thing signed again. "I'd rather dye my hair pink than ask my mother for advice." Wednesday replied.
Thing touched the wood next to him, wanting to Wednesday to prove of she's right. "Oh, you want me to prove it to you?" She said, her tone sharp.
Wednesday went around touching random things around the ruins. The wall, the the random hanging plank, even a bag of Taco Bell. There's Taco Bell in Jericho? Wednesday headed for the door, "My visions are as predictable as shark attacks." The moment her hand touched the door, she had a vision. Great.
Wednesday was transported to somewhere. From a distance, she could see a mob of villagers holding torches surrounding someone screaming murder. "Burn her!" "Devil spawn!" "Witch!" They said as they pushed a girl down, Goody Addams.
"Stand aside!" In one command, the mob parted ways, a path forming. Out walks a tall mam who looks awfully like the statue at Pilgrim World - Joseph Crackstone.
"Goody Addams. You have been judged before God and found guilty." He said to the girl, "You are a witch, a sorceress, Lucifer's mistress herself. For your sins, you will burn this night and suffer the flames of eternal hellfire."
He said like some judged sent on earth by the almighty himself. Like some holy executioner.
"I'm innocent. It is you, Joseph Crackstone, that should be tried. We were here before you living in harmony with nature and the native folk. But you have stolen our land. You have slaughtered the innocent. You have robbed us of our peaceful spirit. You are the true monster! All of you!"
She said before swiping a knife at Crackstone's face. The blood drips from the cut on Crackstone's face. People around surrounded Goody and disarmed her.
"The Devil ne'er sent such a demon, and I will send you back!" He hit Goody, her figure falling back before being dragged by the others to a shed full of people. Outcasts.
Wednesday went in the shed herself, following the crowd before crouching down at an obscure corner.
"Abominations! I will not stop until I've expunged this New World of every Outcast. Godless creatures!" Crackstone and his men got out, locking the door from the outside, trapping the Outcasts in.
This was not just a zealot doing things for his belief. Not a fanatic forcing himself on other ideas. No, no. This is evil incarnate itself on Earth. The Outcasts huddled together - men, women, children, elder - none is being spared.
"Set it ablaze!" Crackstone's voice rung from outside. Like the sword of Damocles over their heads. Screams of fear filled the room. They will all die here.
Goody tried to save her mother. Her face distraught because she knew of the inevitability that's coming. The reality that will occur, "Run. Avenge us. Find the others and save our future." her mother begged.
"Please. My sweet lamb. Run. Run as fast as you can. You are our only hope!"
And so Goody ran. She left her mother, she left her people to die for a future she was not sure she could save.
Wednesday was transported again, the scene changed back to the present. Goody ran toward her, "He won't stop until he's killed us all!"
From behind her, Crackstone appeared, eyes malevolent with a smile so sinister the devil would be jealous, "There will be no escape for you!"
Wednesday was jolted back from her vision. Her face now dirtied by the rain. Thing looked over her unconscious body.
"Thing! I saw her again. Goody Addams." Before Wednesday could explain further, she and Thing heard a rustling noise from the forest. She stood up, peeking closer through the wall.
"Must've been the bearded man from earlier." She said, turning to Thing, she looked again. The monster stared back at her.
Wednesday ran until she found the path back. She noticed something on the ground, footprints, beast-like. She tried following it only for the footprint to turn to a human's. Her eyes widened at this revelation.
"The monster's human." Wednesday muttered.
—-
Larissa sighed, looking at the figure of Adam sitting right in front of her. A report from Ms. Thornhill arrived earlier, Wednesday Addams and Adam Cain was caught sneaking in a prohibited area. Imagine her surprise when her most troubling student and the student she'd been keeping a careful eye on was caught making a mess, together!
Larissa furrowed her eyebrows, this is not something she could allow. Wednesday, despite being one of her precious students, is admittedly not the best example for Adam to grow on.
"Adam," Larissa said, pausing for a second, thinking of what she's about to say. Finally, "I suggest you stay away from Ms. Addams for a while."
Adam's eyes, locked on the table, turned to her confused. "Why?" He asked, tilting his head. Larissa took a deep breath. "Ms. Addams is… unique in her perspective. I believe it would not do you well to be acquainted with her."
Adam's brows furrowed under his mask, he clenched his jaw - a natural almost primal response surging anger. "You mean to say she is different?" He responded, his tone sharper than he intended.
Larissa's palm pressed together, her face straining. She stayed silent, unsure of what to say. "But I am different, too." Adam said, his voice almost breaking, "And my difference- my difference breeds fear."
He looked down at the table once more. "Addams has never looked at me with fear," He muttered, "and even you have."
Larissa froze. The words struck deeper than she expected, leaving the room heavy with unspoken truths. Her hand, resting on the desk, slowly met his. "…I only want what's best for you, Adam."
He tilted his head, his voice low but steady. "To be alone?" The question lingered like a blade suspended in the air. Larissa opened her mouth. "To be safe."
For a second, no words came out. Just… silence, lingering in the air. Adam knows, he understands. But his fear of solitude, just as he learned today, the fear makes the wise irrational.
—-