Wednesday

Chapter 7: Another Victim

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"That was a disaster!" Weems exclaimed, pacing back and forth as Wednesday sat in her office.

"The mayor is furious! I've lost count of the angry phone calls, emails, and people in the town, alumni, and parents. They want answers and so do I." She demanded.

"I would lead the inquisition, but I left my thumbscrews and rack at home."

"Mr. Addams." Weems whispered dangerously. "You're already on thin ice. Wafer-thin ice."

"I swear on my late scorpion's soul, my hands are clean." Wednesday told her.

Which could technically be true, considering he had Thing pour the gasoline into the fountain.

"I may not have hard evidence, but I see you. You're a trouble magnet." Weems accused.

"If trouble means standing up to lies, decades of discrimination, centuries of treating outcasts like second-class citizens or worse."

"What are you talking about?"

"Jericho. Why does this town even have an Outreach Day? Don't you know it's real history with outcasts? The actual story of Joseph Crackstone?" Wednesday asked.

Weems sighed. "I do. To an extent." She admitted.

"Then why be complicit in its cover up? Those who repeat history are doomed to repeat it."

"That's where you and I differ. Where you see doom, I see opportunity. Maybe this is a chance to rewrite the wrongs, start a new chapter in the normie-outcast relations." Weems suggested.

"Nothing has changed since Crackstone. They still hate us. Only now they sugarcoat it with platitudes and smiles." Wednesday pointed out. "If you're unwilling to fight for the truth..."

"You don't think I want the truth? Of course I do. But the world isn't always black and white. There are shades of gray."

"Maybe for you. But it's either they write our story or we do. You can't have it both ways." Wednesday challenged.

"...You're exhausting." Weems told him.

"I know."

Weems let out an exasperated sigh. "Goodnight, Mr. Addams."

Wednesday turned to leave, when Weems spoke again.

"But you should know...I don't tire easily."

Wednesday stared at her for a few moments, and then turned and walked away.

...

Back at the old meeting house, the homeless man was putting batteries in the camera he had stolen, when he heard crunching and sniffing in the distance.

He stood up, and yelled, "Who the hell's there?!"

A few moments later, the monster burst through the meeting house and charged at the man.

He screamed and dropped the camera which started flashing and taking pictures as the monster ripped into the old man.

...