Woe for One More - An Excerpt
The clicks and clacks of calluses against metal keys reverberated against the walls of Wednesday’s room at Nevermore. Her back was angled towards the sleeping blonde she shared the room with and her front was facing a white piece of paper that was growing blacker by the second.
The ferocity of her keystrokes was setting the typewriter before her ablaze. The tips of her fingers were racing against the words in her head to see who would be edging the other one out at the finish line. Word by word, brick by brick, Wednesday was laying down the path that Viper De La Muerte would eventually walk.
The slide of the carriage.
The croak of a newly-awakened roommate.
But there was no time for distraction, only abstraction.
“Wednesday!” Enid’s exclamation was sandwiched between the grog of just having been asleep and the exasperation of just having been taken out of it. It was a familiar sound, though one Wednesday was accustomed to hearing later in the morning.
“You’re up early.” Wednesday’s fingers slowed the tiniest bit as to both give her mouth the energy to form words and to not overpower her own voice with the sound of typing.
“That’s because you woke me up,” the other girl whinged. The nonchalance of Wednesday’s reply had only fed more into Enid’s aggravation at the disturbance. “What time is it even?”
Wednesday’s hands paused while she looked over her shoulder. But instead of looking at Enid, she focused on the half-rainbow-tinted ray of light being cast onto the floor between them.
“Based on the position of the sun – ” she started, her eyes returning to the page.
“ – I would say it’s a quarter to six.”
“A quarter to – ” Annoyance mixed freely with disbelief as Enid was hit with the realization of what time it was. “What are you even doing up this early?”
“Don’t answer,” Enid sighed, “because I’ll tell you what you’re doing up – you’re keeping me from sleeping.” The words barely reached Wednesday’s ears, unable to compete with the sound of keystrokes emanating from her fingertips. “See? Just like that.”
“I wake you up everyday; you should be used to this by now.” The statement came out matter-of-factly, almost as if Wednesday was chastising Enid for being bothered by the unwelcome reveille. “Besides – ”
“ – I had no choice. I was asleep when I had an idea for my novel and it was imperative that I get the words down on paper before I lose them.”
“Well, if you ask me, it sounds like you’re not losing a single one.” Enid’s barb came out dull and edgeless. It seemed that the girl had realized how any attempt at sarcasm or admonishment would prove futile in Wednesday’s current state.
“Don’t pout, Enid; you’ll get wrinkles. I cannot control when inspiration chooses to rain down upon me.” Wednesday hands stopped again as she read over the newly written line. “I can only choose to take advantage of it and drink from that well whenever it fills.”
“Though from the looks of it – ” The formerly ceaseless sounds of typing did not continue. Wednesday’s hands hovered above the keys. An errant twitch disclosed her desire to keep on typing, but she found no more words behind them. Her eyes scanned the page, tracing back the path her dreams had led her on. She had reached a dead-end.
“ – it does appear as if that font has now run dry.”
“Good.” It came out muffled, no doubt due to the pillow Enid had placed over her own head. “Now I can go back to sleep.”
The word flew from Wednesday’s mouth into Enid’s ear before exiting the tired girl as a groan. She knew what was coming next.
“Yes, roomie?” She sounded defeated. There would be no rest for this werewolf today.
“I am currently at a loss at how to deal with the corner I’ve written myself into.” Wednesday turned around in her chair, her legs now hanging off to the side, as she looked over to the girl across the room from her. This was not the first time she had used Enid as a sounding board, and though she was nowhere near as eloquent as Thing was with his notes, she was at least twice as blunt and thrice as willing.
“Viper is currently investigating a local farm after several claims of it being a front for a cult that harvests organs. Unfortunately, after having broken in and finding proof positive of these allegations, she’s now been captured by the cult’s leader without any apparent way out.” She paused as she ran the scenario over in her head again, but her mind was still blank. “Save for the appearance of a deus ex machina, I’m afraid I have no idea how she escapes.”
Wednesday was first met with silence – save for the stray creak of her own chair as she adjusted her sitting position. The room was quiet, and if it wasn’t for the fact that Enid was notorious for growling in her sleep, then Wednesday would’ve suspected that she had indeed drifted off. But then – finally – a sign of life.
Five colorful digits rose up to pull the cushion off of Enid’s face before slamming it back down onto the bed beside her. The blonde mop on her head looked a mess as whatever parts not matted to her forehead stuck up and stood out in all kinds of directions. Her torso was covered by an oversized and faded t-shirt from a childhood vacation to a popular tourist trap. The blanket below her waist laid twisted and contorted around her appendages, exposing her feet along the bottom of it. As she pushed herself up using her hands, rising like the sun, she looked over to the person that had disturbed her to begin with.
Enid’s eyes, usually eager and open, were squinting at Wednesday through the early morning stupor. And even through the narrowed eyelids the other girl presented her, Wednesday could see how the sun glinted off the blue of her irises.
It was a sight that Wednesday saw everyday, something she considered as integral to her morning routine as the cup of coffee she drank whilst Thing braided her hair. The vision of Enid rising from her sheets, like a wolf coming out of its den, stirred something inside her that she couldn’t exactly place – a certain warmth that felt unfamiliar, albeit not entirely unwelcome.
It was a concern that had plagued her thoughts ever since the two had returned to Nevermore, but she had made no attempts to tackle it. After all, who was she to try and avoid the plague?
“Why don’t you just make it so that she doesn’t get captured?” The gruffness of Enid’s voice was starting to disappear as she finally began acclimating to the waking world around her.
“A story without conflict is no story. How satisfying can the climax of this be if there are no trials or tribulations before it?”
“Fine, fine.” Enid yawned, accompanying the noise with a lengthy stretch and groan. “Well, Viper’s a detective, right? Doesn’t she have a partner or someone that can help her out?”
“Viper De La Muerte works alone. She has no partner – I’ve told you this.”
“Yeah, I remember.” Enid ran a hand through her hair in a poor attempt to smooth it down. “No one wants to work with her because she keeps waking them up at 6 AM with her typing, right?”
“I’ll have you know that Viper is one of the most wanted detectives in all of the continental United States.”
“After several incidents with the TSA, Viper has been deemed a flight risk.”
“That’s not a surprise,” Enid said with a roll of her eyes. “So, when you said she was the most wanted, that also means–”
“You’re missing the point of the matter; Viper doesn’t need a partner.”
“Why does it matter if she needs one? Can’t she just meet a nice girl that likes her even though she’s weird and off-putting?” Enid was exasperated. “Besides, you can’t honestly tell me she doesn’t need a partner right now when one would literally solve both of you two’s problems.”
An empty air. She had asked for a way out and Enid had given one to her, though it went against everything she had written Viper to stand for. No matter how dire the situation, the detective had always managed to escape – whether it was through her wits or extensive knowledge of neurotoxins, there was nothing that she hadn’t been able to figure out by herself.
Wednesday was very much the same way.
It wasn’t until coming to Nevermore that she realized that her penchant for independence could prove to be such a liability. There was no doubt that she would not be sitting where she was if not for the odd group of peers that she had managed to inadvertently cultivate. Bianca and the other Nightshades. Eugene and his hive of bees. But one relation shone brighter than the rest.
Before this, Wednesday could’ve never even imagined someone like Enid, let alone the notion of becoming friends with them. But over the past few months, after everything they’ve gone through, the idea of calling Enid a friend still left an odd aftertaste on her tongue. No, not because someone like Wednesday Addams would never stoop so low as to admit to having friends, but it was because someone like Enid deserved something more. Something like –
The saccharine sound of a K-pop song rang out from Enid’s phone and promptly reminded Wednesday where she was, pinned to a hard slab of writer’s block. What followed was even worse: a familiar female voice, reading out some trite description about a person’s daily routine, only to be cut off by the same robotic voice reading something as equally banal. Songs and sentences repeatedly being severed by the swipe of Enid’s finger – “TikTok” was what she had called it.
“Enid...” Any goodwill she had harbored towards the blonde had disappeared as a tempered fire crackled beneath her words. “Why aren’t you using your headphones?”
Enid looked up from her phone. “Oh, uh…I kinda fell asleep with them on.” A soft chuckle belied the greater embarrassment behind the answer, though Wednesday felt that there was something behind that as well.
With a raised eyebrow, Wednesday leaned in for a better chance at scrutiny. “You wear your headphones to sleep all the time – why was this occasion different from the rest?”
Enid’s hands lowered the phone until it sat in her lap, her legs muffling the sounds of a pitched up pop hit from a decade prior. “Well, the last time I wore them, it was during the full moon, so they might’ve broken when I…” She pawed shyly at the air in front of her before extending her claws.
“I see.” Wednesday paused.
It was common for Enid to be absent-minded and forgetful, and it was even more common for Wednesday to tease her about it, but she found the current subject matter exempt from such behavior. She was aware of how worried Enid had been about being able to transform again after that first time, so it was a relief to hear that things were progressing smoothly.
“I suppose that’s a good problem to have had,” Wednesday said decidedly. The tone was soft and mindful, without even an ounce of ridicule.
Enid’s ears perked up at what Wednesday had to say. The shy look on her face made way for the signs of a smile, only to be dashed aside by Wednesday’s next words.
“However, you should look into purchasing new ones.” Wednesday turned around to focus on her typewriter. She pulled out the piece of paper there and set it aside before reaching for a new one. “That way I won’t have to reprimand you for the noise.”
Wednesday could feel Enid’s eyes on the back of her head and she could hear the audio from earlier unmuffling itself as the phone was removed from the crook of her legs. “Wow, how considerate of you.”
“I try,” Wednesday replied, unperturbed. She cracked her knuckles and flexed her fingers above the metal keys. Her eyes moved over the blank piece of paper, hoping that a fresh start would be able to remedy her issue. “Now, we still have some time before class and I plan to utilize it as efficiently as I – “
“Oh. My. God! Wednesday!”
“Do you know what day it is?” The excitement in her voice was palpable, a distinct shift from the sulking she was doing mere moments before.
Wednesday’s head pivoted towards the calendar she had on her desk. By habit, she reached for the quill pen and dipped it in the inkwell beside it. The tip of the feather floated over the many x’s that covered the paper until it arrived at the previous day. She promptly crossed the date out before turning her eyes towards the impetus for Enid’s elation.
FEBRUARY 14 - VALENTINE'S DAY
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