Wednesday walked into Ophelia Hall without slowing down.
The mont she reached her door, she stopped.
It was covered.
Notes, cards, small decorations—bright, unnecessary, and completely unwelco. ssages praising her, thanking her, calling her things she had no interest in being called.
Her expression didn't change.
She reached up and tore one down.
Then another.
Paper fell to the floor in silence as she removed them one by one, almost thodical movents.
"Adoration," she said, examining one briefly before ripping it in half, "is far more disturbing than fear."
Thing crawled up beside the doorfra, tapping lightly as if offering comntary.
Wednesday didn't look at him.
"If this continues," she said, pulling off the last note, "we should consider placing bear traps in front of the door."
Thing paused.
Then gave an approving gesture.
Wednesday opened the door and stepped inside.
Inside, the contrast was imdiate.
While Wednesday found the attention outside irritating, Enid had embraced it completely. Her side of the room was brighter, more colorful, and her phone kept lighting up with notifications.
Even though she hadn't directly caught the Hyde or stopped Joseph Crackstone, she had been at the center of everything, and that was enough for people—especially online.
Enid saw her and imdiately got off the bed, rushing over without hesitation and pulling her into a tight hug.
"Wednesday!"
Wednesday didn't return it. She stood there stiffly, arms at her sides, her expression half-dead as usual while Enid held onto her.
After a mont, Enid pulled back, still smiling.
They exchanged gifts.
"This ti no snood," Enid said, handing over a folded t-shirt. "It's Bay-Wolf—from Lupinpalooza at Golden Gate Park. Like Beowulf, but… you know, cooler."
Wednesday took it, glanced at it once, then set it aside without comnt.
In return, she handed Enid a doll.
It vaguely resembled her.
Sa hair, sa soft curls.
Enid smiled at first.
"…Okay, that's actually kind of—"
"The curls are made from real human hair," Wednesday said.
Enid froze.
Her smile slowly faded as she stared at the doll again, now holding it a little farther away from herself.
"…That's… a little creepy," she admitted.
Wednesday moved on without reacting.
"So how was your stay after that trip to the past?" she asked.
Enid's expression shifted, the earlier excitent dimming.
"I had nightmares for so ti," she said. "Every ti I think about that incident… how we almost died… it just keeps coming back."
She exhaled, then quickly grabbed her phone.
"And Wednesday, I found sothing on the internet," she said. "I was shocked—it's an old article from 1981."
She stepped closer and showed her the screen.
It described a red sky over a small town in Wyoming. Then, without warning, the entire village disappeared without a trace. No survivors, no explanation, nothing left behind.
"This is the village," Enid said, lowering her voice. "The one where we stopped that thing."
She looked at Wednesday, still processing it.
"Can you believe it beca one of the biggest mysteries? There are so many theories about what happened. So say it was a curse, so say a serial killer, and so even think it was a governnt experint."
"Well, I'm sure you tried adding a world-ending disaster to that list," Wednesday said.
Enid's eyes widened imdiately.
"How did you know?"
Wednesday didn't look up from the article.
"You have a docunted inability to resist gossip," she said. "And I'm certain that particular addition generated a noticeable reaction online."
Enid let out a small sigh.
"Yeah… they said I should start writing novels," Enid admitted, still holding her phone. "Like, 'this isn't a story, who believes in world invasions?'"
She paused for a mont, then suddenly rembered sothing and turned back toward Wednesday with renewed curiosity.
"Wait—speaking of novels, what happened to your novel…?"
Wednesday shifted slightly, her expression remaining unchanged as she answered.
"My publisher mailed it back," she said, her tone flat as always, "with approximately one thousand notes on the typescript."
Enid didn't look surprised in the slightest. If anything, she looked like she had expected worse.
"Yeah, that sounds about right," she said, nodding. "That novel is not for normal people. If normal people read that, they'd probably end up in a hospital."
"They lack discipline," Wednesday replied calmly, as if that explained everything.
Enid shook her head slightly but didn't argue, already too used to that kind of response. Instead, she leaned forward again, her curiosity still not satisfied.
"Although," Wednesday continued, "they ntioned they liked one character in the book."
That imdiately caught Enid's attention.
"Wait, seriously?" she asked. "There's a likable character in your horror novel?"
"Viper's sidekick," Wednesday said. "The cunning hare."
Enid blinked, clearly not expecting that answer.
"The hare?" she repeated, trying to recall it.
Wednesday gave a slight nod, continuing in the sa asured tone.
"They found the interaction between the Viper and the hare engaging," she said. "They suggested I focus on that dynamic and reduce the rest."
The cunning hare was a character she had written with Ethan in mind—soone who appeared harmless, attractive on the surface, but was calculating and dangerous beneath that façade.
Enid stared at her for a mont, slowly processing that description. The idea of sothing "engaging" existing inside Wednesday's novel felt strange enough on its own, but the specific ntion made it even more suspicious.
"In response," she continued, "I sent my editor a gift."
Enid's expression shifted imdiately, her instincts already telling her this was going sowhere concerning.
"…What kind of gift?" she asked cautiously.
"A live viper," Wednesday said, completely calm. "Its fangs were removed, but the presence remains effective."
There was a long pause.
Enid slowly leaned back, staring at her.
"You sent your editor a live snake?" she asked, her voice sowhere between disbelief and concern.
"They requested stronger engagent with the material," Wednesday replied. "I provided a more imrsive experience."
Enid didn't respond imdiately. She just looked at Wednesday, then at the faint smile forming on her face.
*****
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