𝕸𝖀𝕽𝕯𝕰𝕽 | 𝖂𝖊𝖉𝖓𝖊𝖘𝖉𝖆𝖞

𝖈𝖍𝖆𝖕𝖙𝖊𝖗 𝖘𝖊𝖛𝖊𝖓𝖙𝖊𝖊𝖓

~

XVII

~

Aiyla sat on her bed, wrapping a leather grip around a small knife's handle.

Wednesday was at her desk, typing away at her typewriter, the small clicks echoing throughout the room.

And Enid was going bat shit crazy.

Well, technically she wasn't.

Not anymore, anyway.

At this point in time, the blonde werewolf was no longer running around like a headless chicken, trying to find her jumper.

"Too much?"

Both Wendesday turned around to see Enid holding up a multi-coloured mini sweater.

"I feel like you just napalmed me, Enid," Wednesday said in reply, turning back to her writing.

Stressed, Enid placed the sweater back on her bed. "So glad I have my date with Ajax tonight," she voiced, "Kept my mind off of that trainwreck of an afternoon. I literally think I have PTSD, I didn't even get to do my dance routine."

"What a tragedy," Aiyla mused, not really paying attention. It wasn't that much of a loss in her eyes.

"What kind of twisted psycho would want to sabotage such a life-affirming event?" Enid questioned herself in disbelief.

Aiyla and Wednesday exchanged a look.

"You're going to be late," Wednesday reminded her.

Enid grabbed her jacket, holding it shakily, "Wish me luck."

Aiyla looked up and surveyed her friend. "If he breaks your heart, I'll rip out his and shove it down his throat."

Enid grimaced at the violent imagery, turned, and left.

"I don't believe in mandatory volunteer work," Wednesday told Aiyla, once Enid left, "Sugar coated history, or happy endings. But most of all, I don't believe in coincidences. To paraphrase Agatha Christie, one coincident is just a coincident, two are a clue, and three are proof."

Aiyla nodded, "Rowan's drawing of you and Crackstone happen sometime in the future. Goody Addams warnings about Crackstone are in the past. And the monster is here is the present. Three coincidences that have to be connected."

"That monster could be anyone. The sheriff thinks they only exist behind the walls of this school," Wednesday continued, "The truth is, there are monsters everywhere. And sometimes it's the the monsters we least suspect." She gave Aiyla a peculiar look as she said that last bit.

Aiyla nodded, looking down at her knife, "They're the ones who are the most dangerous." She looked at her slightly distorted reflection in the polished blade of the knife. Her large, gazelle eyes scanning her full, feminine features - and behind that face was a monster. A witch of pure Wrath. Behind those gazelle eyes danced a whirlwind of anger and rage that thirsted for chaos and bloodshed.