In the quiet night, Wednesday snapped her eyes open. The velvet darkness wrapped around her. The only sounds in the dorm were Enid's steady, soft breathing and the occasional faint smack-smack of Venom chewing chocolate in his sleep from Victor's side.
However, her mind was far from calm.
That thought from before she slept.
That damned, virus-like sentence was playing on a loop in her brain:
"Perhaps... staying in this asylum of an academy wasn't completely unbearable."
Bearable?
The appearance of this word in Wednesday Addams's dictionary was, in itself, a blasphemy.
To bear meant to compromise, to lower standards, to be... weak.
And she, Wednesday Addams, was never weak.
What was more terrifying was the breeding ground for this thought: an idiot who screamed while bare-assed, and a little wolf girl who slept hugging a human-sized rainbow unicorn!
It had only been two days! Just forty-eight hours!
Her fortress of will, solid as obsidian, had developed cracks?
An unprecedented alarm shrieked in her head—Infection! She was being infected by a virus called "Mediocre Academy Life" and "Noisy Roommates"!
She sat up abruptly. The cold air touched her skin, but it couldn't cool the churning anxiety inside her.
She had to escape.
Before she was completely assimilated, before she started thinking "rainbows are actually nice," "noise can be background music," or even... even generated other, more terrifying thoughts, she had to escape.
The destination of the escape was no longer just away from Nevermore, but away from that potential possibility—the possibility of becoming a carbon copy of her mother, Morticia.
Becoming a popular figure at the academy? Captain of the fencing team? Prom Queen? President of the Séance Club? And then... falling in love?
Her thoughts slid uncontrollably toward a dangerous abyss.
Two distinct images flashed in her mind instantly: On one side was Victor's goofy, idiotic grin stretching to his ears.
On the other side was Victor leaning back in the car seat, that wicked, dangerous, yet astonishingly attractive flush and low tone...
"Oh!" Wednesday let out an extremely soft, suppressed gasp, her fingers clutching the bedsheet beneath her.
What am I thinking?!
This was scarier than infection! This was a late-stage symptom of mental contamination!
She must have been attacked on a psychological level by the combined forces of Victor's boundary-less madness virus and Enid's overly infectious warmth.
Determination, like the hardest ice, instantly froze all wavering thoughts.
She needed an escape plan.
But the prerequisite for escape was leaving the gilded cage of the academy.
However, Principal Weems had explicitly restricted her outings. In the closed boarding environment of Nevermore, she couldn't move an inch without permission.
She lay in the dark like a specimen displayed in a coffin, but her brain was running at maximum speed, coldly assessing every possibility and its risks.
Climb the wall? Faculty and staff patrolled dutifully.
Use secret passages? Her understanding of the architectural structure wasn't deep enough yet.
Disguise? Risk too high, easy to be exposed.
A puzzle. An annoying puzzle.
---
However, early the next morning, a turning point appeared in an annoying, laughter-filled manner.
"Harvest Festival!" Enid Sinclair shot into the dorm like a golden cannonball, her face brimming with excessive enthusiasm, almost pouncing onto Victor's bed.
But she braked just in time—Victor was still wrapped in his quilt, exposing only a tuft of black hair. Venom was flattened next to his pillow like a black, snoring pancake.
"Next weekend! The Principal requires everyone to attend! It's on the west side of town, near the forest! There's a bonfire! Dancing! Pumpkin pie! And—" Enid's eyes sparkled. "—The best honey caramel apples in town!"
Victor popped out of the quilt, his hair a mess, but his eyes scarily bright. "Honey caramel apples? Dancing? Sounds like some kind of collective sugar overdose carnival! Venom! Wake up! We have a new mission! We can go together..."
As he spoke, he looked naturally at Enid, seemingly accepting the proposal of going as a group by default.
Venom squirmed, emitting a garbled sound: "...Apples... dipped in chocolate... is the only way..."
Wednesday was sitting on the edge of her bed tying the laces of her spotless black leather shoes. Her movements didn't pause for a second, but her ears caught every keyword.
Harvest Festival. Off-campus. Everyone must attend.
A cold electric current shot through her spine instantly.
A god-given opportunity.
She maintained a surface indifference, not even bothering to look up at her two overly excited roommates, but a storm was brewing inside her.
A plan formed rapidly in her mind, clear and cold as a surgical procedure.
Primary Principle: Isolate the variables.
The two people in front of her—Victor, the biggest, most unpredictable noise source and trouble magnet.
Enid, the relatively harmless but overly enthusiastic little wolf girl who easily messed things up.
These two must be excluded from her plan.
She must not let them detect a single thing, let alone participate.
Pushing them to go to the festival carnival together was the perfect solution.
These two, one crazy, one lively, once thrown into this kind of brainless celebration, would be completely immersed and forget everything else, thus occupying each other.
She needed to facilitate this, and do it without leaving a trace.
Secondary: She needed an ally.
Tyler Galpin. The café employee.
Last time at the Weathervane, he had practically agreed to drive her to the station.
Although it failed because of Victor, the variable who ruined everything, the weak resistance Tyler showed against his father's authority and his cautious sympathy were entry points she could exploit.
She needed Tyler to appear at the Harvest Festival and be willing to take a risk for her again.
Wednesday sketched out and refined the details of the plan in her mind bit by bit.
How to naturally push Victor and Enid to team up? Perhaps...
Her gaze unintentionally swept over the exquisite miniature guillotine model on the nightstand.
This little gadget could be sold for travel money.
As soon as this thought arose, a strange, subtle resistance inexplicably grew from the bottom of her heart, making her frown slightly.
Reluctance?
This absurd word almost made her scoff out loud.
She, Wednesday Addams, having such weak emotions over a gift?
It must be the recent noise pollution causing cognitive disorder.
Perhaps this guillotine still has some use.
She quickly found an excuse for herself, a lame excuse that even she couldn't fully believe—
For example, it can be used to test the reliability of some small mechanism, or... anyway, now is not the time to dispose of it. Funding issues can be solved in other ways.
How to contact Tyler? She remembered seeing recruitment flyers on the café counter.
Perhaps anonymously book a delivery service during the Harvest Festival, specifying him to come to the academy? But that carried risk.
Or, more directly, take advantage of the next counseling session?
Risk Assessment: Principal Weems would definitely be present to supervise.
How to avoid her gaze? The chaos at the climax of the carnival would be good cover.
Transportation method? Tyler's car was the first choice, but if that failed, there must be a backup plan.
"Wednesday!" Enid's voice interrupted her thoughts, carrying cautious expectation. "Harvest Festival... you're definitely going, right? Even if you don't like it, you can just look around, maybe..."
"I will go." Wednesday finished tying the last knot, stood up, her voice flat and devoid of emotion. "I will not violate the Principal's requirements."
She picked up her bag and walked toward the door. As she passed Enid, she didn't stop, but left a carefully calculated sentence, her gaze sweeping seemingly casually over Victor:
"You two should go together. It seems you are both full of anticipation for this... sugar-driven collective hysteria. Just as well, Victor needs someone to watch him so he isn't chased by vendors for stealing food, and Enid..."
She paused deliberately, her gaze landing on Enid's slightly reddening face.
"You also look like you need someone to... share your overflowing enthusiasm."
The effect of this sentence was instantaneous.
Enid's cheeks flushed even redder.
She instinctively glanced at Victor, who was still excitedly shaking Venom to discuss "the thickness of the chocolate coating," then quickly lowered her head.
Her fingers unconsciously twisted the hem of her shirt. Her usual lively, extroverted demeanor was instantly replaced by a rare, shy panic.
"I... I didn't... I just..." she mumbled, her voice as small as a mosquito's hum, completely losing her usual momentum.
The door closed behind Wednesday, shutting out Victor's heartless shouting of "Exactly! We need a Chocolate Strategy Officer!" and Enid's almost inaudible, garbled response.