𝕸𝖀𝕽𝕯𝕰𝕽 | 𝖂𝖊𝖉𝖓𝖊𝖘𝖉𝖆𝖞

𝖈𝖍𝖆𝖕𝖙𝖊𝖗 𝖙𝖜𝖊𝖑𝖛𝖊

~

XII

~

Aiyla leaned against the door of the barn sharpening her knife. She kept her eyes off of Eugene as Wednesday cleaned him, truth be told - she didn't like Eugene, at all. She found him annoying and a waste of time. If anything, she was only doing this for Wednesday.

"Nobody's ever stood up for me before," Eugene declared, shooting Aiyla a tankful glare.

She stayed silent for a moment, before looking up, regarding him for second, saying: "I don't like you," then going back to sharpening her knife.

Wednesday rolled her eyes, "You remind me of my brother," she told him, "Sans the desire to strangle him every waking moment." She stood, "Now follow us."

Aiyla rolled her eyes. "Let's find out more about this Crackstone and break into that meeting house."

They turned and began to creep around the barn, scuttling towards the meeting house's back door as Eugene followed.

They got to the locked door.

Aiyla brought her leg up and kicked the padlock as hard as she could.

"You're making noise," Wednesday voiced.

"I-" Aiyla grunted as she kicked the lock again, " - have a lot of - uh - anger to relea-"

CRASH!

"- se."

The door caved open as the padlock shattered.

Aiyla grinned and turned to Wednesday, "Don't doubt me, Wendy."

"If we get caught, Lay, I'm blaming this on you," Wednesday rolled her eyes as she pushed the door open. "Wait here," she said to Eugene, "Keep watch."

"What if Mistress Arlene catches us?" he questioned.

"Hive code. Deny everything," Wednesday replied.

"That's not Hive Code!" Eugene protested, "What's the big deal anyway? The fudge is definitely the best thing about this place."

Aiyla glared, "You've had too much."

"Can I call you Wendy too?" Eugene asked, just as they were about to go inside.

Wednesday turned back to him and gave his a bone chilling glare, "If you do, I will rip your tongue out of your head."

Eugene gulped and the two girls entered the building and shut the door behind them.

The room was huge, with a high ceiling and wooden walls. It looked surprisingly intact for its age: it was clearly a replica.

Wednesday opened her bag and let Thing crawl onto a display case as she turned and observed the room. "My grandmother said secrets are like zombies, they never truly die."