The soft touch of moonlight grazed the wooden floor, passing between the curtains that draped over it. The clock hanging on the wall ticked, steady, blending with the soft melody of Clair de Lune.
Adam sat on his bed, comforted by the blanket that covered half his body. In his hand was a book, the Iliad and the Odyssey by Homer. An epic of demigods and monsters, of heroes and their adversaries. His mask sat on his nightstand, along with the pair of gloves he wore all day. This room, his room, was the only place where he did not hide.
Standing by the doorway, dressed in a silver dress that seemed to shine even in the dark, was Larissa, wearing a concerned face. "Are you sure you won't go?" she asked.
Adam looked up, breaking his focus from the story, his eyes meeting hers. "Yes." He replied, short and sure. Larissa sighed. "Wouldn't you reconsider? It will be good for you, you might even enjoy it. I heard you've made friends with Ms. Sinclair and some others, you can sit with them, have fun."
"I have something to do." Adam replied, his gaze turning to the window, lingering on what lay beyond. "Read?" Larissa asked, her voice reeking of sarcasm. Adam chuckled at her dry wit. "Perhaps? Or maybe I'll dance myself to sleep."
Larissa took a deep breath, shaking her head with a smile. "Very well." She stepped closer, walking towards his table. She placed a garment bag, another gift from her. "I'll be leaving this here. If you ever change your mind, you can always catch up."
"It's made for you. I had it ordered just in case." She smiled, gentle and kind. Adam felt warmth in his chest, gratitude swelling inside him as he looked at her. "Thank you, Larissa." He said, his voice trembling ever so slightly.
Larissa nodded, turning her back to walk towards the door. She turned, her hand grasping the knob. "I'll see you tomorrow, Adam."
"Enjoy the night, Larissa." He replied softly. Larissa left, her figure fading behind the door, its soft click sounding like finality. Adam, now alone, closed the book, standing up as the blanket fell to the floor.
He stepped closer to his table, the garment cover laid flat on the wooden surface. His fingers held the zipper, gliding it down to reveal what's inside — a gray coat and pants, along with a black undershirt, all of which felt, to his touch, like wool.
His heart surged not just with gratefulness, but with doubts as well. Why is she kind to him? What had he done? 'What person treats a monster with kindness?'
Adam traced his fingers on the suit, feeling its soft texture familiar to his hand, but never to his mind. Never, just as it had always been, and would always be. He closed the cover, letting it sit on his table unbothered.
His hand went to his mask, his constant companion, his second identity. He wore it with carefulness, with respect to its purpose. He grabbed his gloves, his second skin, putting it over his revolting hands.
Adam's eyes turned to the mirror, new, one that had never felt his wrath. 'I am a facade. Until when do I hide?' A facade, a false identity. Why is it so, that the more he knows, the more he hates himself? 'Knowledge brings understanding, understanding breeds… knowing.'
Knowing, in a world that rewards likeness, begets a pain none but the constituent can understand. It's different, raw, a sense of isolation no matter the facade you wear. Change how you look, change how you act, but the permanence of your difference is inevitable, eternal. Especially when it concerns your nature.
Adam parted the curtains, walking towards the small balcony of his room. There were little to no students outside, most likely in the Rave'N, dancing and laughing with their friends. He gazed at the moon, the gentle giant that guides the night.
How many lives has the moon witnessed? How many secrets has it heard? How many monsters have looked upon it in gratitude? 'O pale sentinel, let me dream.' The cool night air brushed against Adam's mask, a whisper that felt almost like a hand on his face. He stared at the moon, letting the silence stretch, his thoughts heavy. With a long sigh, he turned.
He closed the window behind him, closing the curtains as well. Then slowly, with heavy steps and a heavy mind, he headed for the door, the music still playing, humming in the air. He will not go to the Rave'N, he will go somewhere that cannot speak. In this world, only those with no voice can't judge. So, that's where he will go. To that place, to where only the ruffling leaves and the rippling of water can be heard.
Outside his room, the halls were empty. No students, no teachers, just his steps echoing. The walls were filled with paintings of old men and women, professors and principals; the shelves were filled with trophies and pictures of students that came and went. Alumni who spent their years here, the same place as him. He could see their smiles, in this place, they dreamt, and in these pictures, they left some of those dreams.
The architectural design of Nevermore is… unique, old, gothic. A reflection of the culture they are preserving, of Outcast lives and experiences. They relish in their distortion towards the normalities and standards that others perceive as 'right.'
That's one of the charms of this school, it does not force you to be normal, it just is. It is shaped by tragedy, by the pain of history and the legacy the past carries. Charming, and hypocritical. Uncontrolled, what you are made of is what you will be. Students molded by prejudice began carrying it inside them as well.
Whispers so quiet you'd mistake it for the humming of insects, but stand close enough, focus well enough and you will hear. It is not wings that made the sound, but the cruel heart.
Soon, Adam reached the entrance. The rugged walls, covered in moss, were guarded by guardians made of stone — gargoyles, gorgons, and ravens that seemed to follow you wherever you went. He passed through the gate, the one that opened on its own. 'Sorcery, perhaps,' Adam thought. A feeble thought for his feeble mind.
He followed the path, etched in the surface for how much it had been walked on. This, in itself, was history. It carried hope, carried love, carried pain. The dead of night was interrupted only by the crunching of dead leaves and the breath of a monster outrunning his fears.
—-
"It's time." They would proceed as planned. She and Eugene would scout the cave, wait for any signs of the monster returning to its lair. No matter what, she'd catch the damn thing. "Thing, where did you put the batteries?" Wednesday said, irritated. If she could find the batteries, that is.
Still currently in her room, gathering her scouting equipment. Her plans with Eugene might get delayed; how else could she see that monster with no flashlight?
Nevertheless, it would be executed, no matter what. It was the perfect opportunity. The teachers would be too occupied guarding a bunch of adolescents from getting wasted. She'd got all the time in the world.
Suddenly, a knock from the door interrupted her search in her drawers. 'It must be Eugene,' Wednesday paused her search, walking towards the door to open it. "I'm coming, Eugene!" Her hand twisted the knob, expecting the gullible-looking kid on the other side, "Hey, did you happen to grab any extra batteries for the flash—"
Her eyes widened. It was not Eugene, nor anyone gullible for that matter. "Tyler." Wednesday muttered. Tyler, sheriff Galpin's son, the Weathervane barista, stood in her doorway wearing a white suit. "I-I got your… invite." He said, a piece of an envelope in his hand. "Guessing you had Thing drop it in the tip jar?"
'I'll kill him.' Wednesday managed to put two and two together the moment she saw the envelope. "Good guess."
Tyler looked hesitant, almost sad. "After our last conversation, I wasn't sure I'd even get to speak to you again, but…" he paused, his tone turning touched, "Well, your note was so genuine and… sweet. Totally took me by surprise."
"Me too." Wednesday replied, her flat tone making Tyler confused. "Well, now that I'm here, I'm glad I came." She was… speechless. Unable to respond to something like… 'this.' "You need a few minutes?" Tyler asked, tilting his head.
Without replying, Wednesday slammed the door shut. Making her way to her closet, her eyes fierce in frustration. "Genuine and sweet? How could you do this to me? First, you keep a secret. Then you ambush me like this?"
What the hell would she even wear? She didn't buy anything when they went shopping. As Wednesday was rummaging in her closet, Thing snapped his fingers, catching her attention. Like some fashion connoisseur, he presented THAT dress.
Wednesday stepped closer, her steps slow. "How'd you pay for it?" Thing spread his fingers, and Wednesday scoffed. "Five-finger discount, of course."
This… isn't part of the plan. The itinerary was clear: scout the cave, spot the monster, gather more evidence. Nothing about going to the Rave'N. How could she explain this to Eugene? Wednesday, despite being cold to anyone else, found herself being fond of the utterly incompetent and gullible boy, much like her brother back home.
The dress fitted her nicely. Its goth, anachronistic design made it feel as if it was made for her. The design screamed Wednesday Addams, or whatever it was Enid said earlier. She tied her hair, braiding it like usual, but instead of letting it fall to her back, she kept it up, keeping it locked.
Thing clapped from Enid's bed, slapping his palm on the fashion magazine he's reading. How is he even able to read? Such is one of the great Addams mysteries, amongst many. "Guard the place." Wednesday said before going out.
Downstairs, the lobby before Ophelia Hall was where Tyler waited. Standing in front of a shelf containing trophies and awards, pictures of the fencing team at their golden era. He turned, hearing the clack of heels going downstairs. Wednesday, in all her charm. Her scowl did nothing to hide the dark elegance she carried, her porcelain skin, her broody gaze.
Tyler couldn't take her eyes off her, glued like a magnet with their polarities. "Wow, you look…"
"Unrecognizable? Ridiculous? A classic example of female objectification for the male gaze?" Wednesday interrupted. "Amazing." Tyler replied with a chuckle, "I mean it, Wednesday, you look beautiful."
His eyes turned to his gift, but before he could give it to her, Wednesday turned. A kid in hiking gear was standing to their side. "Eugene?" Wednesday called out.
Eugene looked at the two, confused by the scene. "Wednesday, what's going on? What happened to staking out the cave?"
Wednesday, unable to reveal her plans, signaled with her eyes. Eugene turned from confused to disappointed; he frowned. "Sure… I get it. Guess I'll check out the woods myself."
"Don't go alone!" Wednesday retorted, concern leaking to her tone. "It's too dangerous. Stand down." Eugene looked to the ground, disheartened by her… betrayal. "We'll come together tomorrow night, understood?" Eugene nodded, still downcast.
Wednesday turned as Tyler tried to catch up, both leaving the disappointed Eugene on his own. As they entered the Rave'N venue, Eugene held his head high again, his energy renewed. He may have agreed, but he didn't promise! He recited the Hummer Code in his head, like a mantra to a monk. "A Hummer never shies away from danger." He muttered with courage. "If Wednesday won't go, I will!"
With a rekindled fire inside him, Eugene walked. Not towards his dorm room nor to the Rave'N dance, but to the forest, towards the danger itself. A Hummer isn't afraid of any monster!
—-
Inside the Rave'N venue, the excitement of the students filled the air. Wednesday and Tyler went inside together, followed by a couple of students behind them. They, of course, received a couple of stares and whispers. The resident psychopath has a date; moreover, it's a Normie! Not just any Normie, the sheriff's son!
Wednesday's eyes wandered around, catching some glances their way. Some froze when they found her eyes digging a hole in their souls, but most turned the moment she caught them. She smirked internally, enjoying their terrified reactions.
Tyler, on the other hand, looked awkward and out of place. He, after all, didn't have the best reputation amongst Outcasts.
"Ms. Wednesday Addams, what a lovely surprise!" A cheerful voice spoke beside them. Wednesday greeted her with a nod. "Ms. Thornhill."
She turned to Tyler. "This is Tyler—"
"Galpin." Ms. Thornhill interrupted, a knowing look in her face. Tyler turned to her, recognizing her familiar face. "Uh, yeah. Double-cap, no foam, two pumps of sugar-free vanilla." He recited, earning a chuckle from Ms. Thornhill. "It's a small town. Hard to keep secrets!"
Wednesday, seeing the two acquainted, turned. "I'm gonna get us some drinks." Without waiting for a reply, she left. Common behavior for her.
It didn't take long for her to reach the drinks table, taking two glasses for her and Tyler, but before she could pour some of this Yeti-tini, Enid came barreling beside her. "OMG! I love the look!" She said, looking at her up and down before turning to Tyler. "Interesting choice of date, though." She added, her face cringing.
Wednesday glanced at Lucas Walker, Enid's date. "I could say the same. You would've been better off asking Adam if he was your plan B." Enid look scandalized, embarrassed. "It's not like that, I promise! His ex is here too and you know I'm trying to make Ajax jealous so… we decided, why not go together. It's a win-win!"
Wednesday hummed. "That Pilgrim already has two strikes in my book." She muttered before looking around. "Speaking of the devil, where is Adam?" Wednesday asked. Enid looked around, unsure. "Don't know… maybe he's not coming? I haven't seen him since lunch."
She paused, trying to recall what she could. "He didn't say much, you know, like usual. But he said he didn't have a date soo…probably why he won't go."
"Or he could be sleeping in his cave…" Wednesday whispered. Enid raised her eyebrow. "Why would he be in a cave?" The goth girl feigned innocence. "Did I say that?"
After chatting some more, Enid left, wouldn't want her date to be alone, she said. How sweet, Wednesday ponders when she should use her pocket mace.
Just as Wednesday thought it was over, she turned around, glasses in hand, when suddenly, Xavier blocked her way. 'Here we go.'
Xavier shook his head, glancing at Tyler. "Can't believe you brought him here." Wednesday sighed, tired of seeing his face. "Why are you bringing this up? As if this dance weren't tedious enough."
Xavier gulped, remembering a painful memory. His eyes, for a moment, looked sad. "Because you don't know what he did to me."
—-
As the Rave'N dance was going on, deep inside the forest was a certain bee-loving boy. Trekking in the wilderness as he held his backpack slings carefully, along with a recorder.
The woods were quiet, no sign of monsters or animals nearby. Just the moon, the wind, and some insects touching Eugene's face. "Eugene Ottinger. 20:38 hours. Just reached the location. Over." He whispered to his recorder, peeking behind a tree for cover.
The forest was creepy, dark. Eugene swears he could feel someone watching him right now. Maybe he watched too much horror films, why didn't he just follow Wednesday's words! "A Hummer never backs down. A Hummer never backs down. A Hummer…"
He continued reciting the Hummer Code, trying to find the courage in his made-up mantras. Deep down, he's wishing the monster never comes here. Because if it does, he's in serious trouble. I mean, what could he do against a mass murdering monster that mutilates its victims beyond recognition?!
He controls bees! That's it! Not even an army of bees, at most, 10-15! That's like a squad in army terms. He also didn't bring any bees with him, they'd be too far to the queen, would be too disoriented to order around.
"A Hummer never backs down. A Hummer never—" mid-sentence for the 27th time, or 28th? Eugene heard the snap of a branch to his right. He gasped before putting his hand over his mouth, preventing any sound from coming out.
Slowly, he moved around the tree, covering himself from where the sound came from. Good news, he's covered. Bad news, he's exposed to the monster's lair. He peeked his head out, trying to observe who made that sound.
Finding nothing in sight, which is very limited considering he's not using his flashlight, he sighed. An idea popped up in his head. 'Maybe this isn't the monster's lair! Maybe it's a distraction!' Eugene gave himself a pat on the back for that idea. 'I'll need to see where that sound came from.'
Eugene gave one last scan at the forest in front of him. Deeming it safe, he took a big breath before coming out of his cover. Slowly, carefully creeping his way to the direction of the sound.
"Eugene Ottinger. 20:47. Signs of movement east of my location, will approach now. Over." He put the recorder back to his pocket, bringing a flashlight out just in case.
Eugene walked carefully, watching his every step, trying not to make any sound. After a while, he reached a hill, ducking behind the edge to peek. With the sound of insects, he could hear… some birds, and a deep hum, Eugene swears there's a melody in it.
"Oh my god." Eugene whispered. "Eugene Ottinger. 20:52. There's something at the bottom of the hill, east of the cave. But it's too dark, I can't see anything. Will try to get closer. Over."
Eugene tried to stand up, unable to find his center of balance in a surface this steep. Just as he's about to take his first step, he slipped, not expecting mud in this seemingly dry hill. He curled up, falling comedically like a ball of dirt and grass.
After a few seconds of rolling, he reached the bottom, coughing out dirt that managed to enter his mouth. "Blergh… ew…" his glasses flew beside him, along with the flashlight that flickered on and off. Eugene panicked, snatching the flashlight to turn it off.
He let out a sigh of relief before picking up his pair of glasses. "I hope the monster didn't notice tha—"
Eugene, now wearing his glasses and aware, froze. There's a man, standing in right in front of him, gloved hands dripping red. "Ah…" was the only thing Eugene could muster before the man grabbed him by his collar.
—-