In the hallway, the corner of Wednesday Addams's mouth lifted in an imperceptible, chilling arc.
The plan had commenced. The variables were successfully guided and bundled together. Everything was under control.
Except for that insignificant, negligible fluctuation at the bottom of her heart regarding the fate of the miniature guillotine—an anomaly that must be ignored.
For the next few days, Wednesday operated like a precise, ruthless machine, silently executing every step of her plan.
To contact Tyler, she used the excuse of "learning modern communication technology"—a reason that made even her feel nauseous—and asked Enid to give her a simple tutorial on how to use the instant messaging software on the academy's local network.
Enid was flattered and taught her with extraordinary earnestness.
Then, late one night, while Enid was sound asleep and Victor and Venom were battling over the ownership of a chocolate cake in their dreams, Wednesday quietly got up.
She summoned Thing to the window and used a marker to write a string of seemingly random numbers and letters on his palm—the ID of her newly registered anonymous account.
"Find Tyler Galpin," she whispered, tapping Thing's palm. "Make him add this. Understand?"
Thing curled his index and middle fingers to signal comprehension, then slid silently into the night.
...
The next evening, when Wednesday borrowed Enid's computer again with the clumsy but effective excuse of "checking the weather forecast," a stranger's friend request was waiting.
Step one: complete. She quickly and briefly communicated with Tyler, finalizing the time and location for the escape that day.
At the same time, she keenly sensed that Principal Weems had not fully lowered her guard.
Sure enough, during the morning assembly on the day of the Harvest Festival, the Principal specifically called Victor and Enid aside and whispered instructions to them.
Though Wednesday couldn't hear the words, the slightly unnatural glances the pair cast her way afterward made it instantly clear—the Principal had commissioned them to monitor her.
A predictably tedious tactic.
Wednesday sneered internally, but her face remained impassive.
She didn't even try to push anything further, simply maintaining her usual indifference and obvious distaste for the holiday.
And just as expected, the moment they entered the noisy, chaotic Harvest Festival square filled with sugary temptations, the pair's "surveillance mission" was tossed into the stratosphere.
"Victor! Look at that massive pumpkin pie!"
"Venom! Smell that! It's chocolate-covered bacon! Our Holy Grail!"
"Enid! Come here! This game looks incredibly stupid, but I absolutely have to play it!"
Almost in the blink of an eye, Victor and Enid were holding hands—oh, most likely Victor grabbed hers subconsciously to avoid getting separated in the crowd—and diving into the ocean of joy with loud shouts, quickly disappearing behind the tide of people and the smoke of food stalls.
Wednesday stood at the edge of the square, watching the direction they vanished with cold detachment, feeling a rightful sense of pride in her precise prediction.
These two variables, just as she expected, completely forgot themselves once thrown into this environment.
Everything was under control.
Her gaze swept around, confirming that Principal Weems was conversing with the Mayor in the distance and was temporarily occupied.
The timing was perfect.
She turned, ready to walk silently toward the secluded spot she had agreed upon with Tyler—the Old Well.
However, in the split second she turned, her peripheral vision inadvertently caught those two disappearing hands again—
Victor was holding Enid's hand tightly, excitedly rushing toward a sugar painting stall. Enid's face was glowing with a brilliant, cloudless smile, not even looking back once at the object she was supposed to "monitor."
In that instant, after the pebble named "Pride" sank to the bottom of the lake in Wednesday's heart, another extremely faint, extremely unfamiliar ripple quietly surfaced.
It was a... hollow feeling?
As if the noisy background sound of the entire world was suddenly sucked away for a second, leaving only the glaring image formed by those two clasped hands.
Ridiculous.
Simply preposterous.
She immediately defined this emotion as "momentary discomfort caused by the lack of challenge in completing the mission objective" and ruthlessly suppressed it.
She was Wednesday Addams. She did not need such weak, meaningless connections.
Her path was destined to be walked alone.
Taking a deep breath, she reassembled all her cold will. Like a black shadow, she moved quickly and quietly through the noisy crowd toward the relatively secluded Old Well in the northwest corner of the square.
---
She successfully evaded all eyes and met Tyler Galpin by the abandoned Old Well.
Tyler's car was parked in an even more secluded alley nearby. The engine was still running, as if it too were anticipating this escape.
"Get in, quick!" Tyler lowered his voice, his eyes a mix of nervousness and desperate determination.
Wednesday didn't hesitate. She reached for the door handle.
Wait.
Just then, three figures suddenly emerged from the shadows of the alley, blocking their path.
It was the three "Inquisition-style" students she had violently flattened with ballet moves back at the café.
Their faces still bore blue and purple bruises, now twisted by the burning fire of revenge.
"That's her!" roared the leader, whose chin still seemed a bit crooked. "Grab the goth!"
Tyler's face went white instantly. "Crap!"
Wednesday made a snap decision. She slammed the car door shut and jumped back.
"Split up! Draw them away!"
Getting in the car now would make them too big a target; it would only result in Tyler and his car getting smashed along with her.
The only way was to use the crowded mass of the Harvest Festival.
The two immediately turned and bolted like startled deer toward the core of the noisy square.
The three avengers pursued relentlessly, cursing as they shoved aside people blocking their way, causing screams and chaos.
Wednesday weaved flexibly through the crowd, her black figure like a swimming fish.
However, during a sharp turn, she collided unexpectedly with a figure standing in front of a candy stall.
The force of the impact wasn't great, but it was enough to make Wednesday's vision go black!
The familiar, nauseating sensation of losing control seized her instantly.
A psychic vision forcibly invaded again!
This time, she saw a pitch-black forest, the moonlight shattered into fragments by twisted branches.
Rowan—the boy she had bumped into—was staring with wide, terrified eyes. His mouth was open, but no sound came out.
The next second, a massive, twisted monster, moving so fast it was only a blur, lunged from the shadows!
Claws like the scythe of death easily tore open his chest. Blood and viscera splashed a horrific pattern under the moonlight.
The distinct crunch of shattering bone made her scalp tingle.
The vision stopped abruptly.
Wednesday stumbled a step, barely keeping her balance, cold sweat seeping from her forehead. She looked up sharply at Rowan, whom she had just bumped into and who looked equally bewildered.
He was alive, unharmed, though his face held a trace of confusion and annoyance at being disturbed.
That vision... was his future of a gruesome death!
Almost instinctively, Wednesday blurted out: "Rowan! Listen, you are in danger..."
Rowan frowned. He took a wary step back, turned, and started to leave.
"Wait!" Wednesday ignored explaining, ignored the avengers who might still be chasing her. A strong, ominous premonition drove her to chase after him.
She had to clarify! She had to warn him! No matter how disgusting the vision was, it had happened, and she couldn't ignore it.
Rowan seemed startled by her urgency and quickened his pace. He even used a bit of his telekinetic ability to push aside the crowd, walking rapidly toward the forest at the edge of the square.
Wednesday followed closely. One ahead, one behind, they quickly broke away from the noisy lights and crowds, plunging into the dense darkness of the forest.
"Stand still! Rowan!" Wednesday's voice was exceptionally clear in the silent woods. "I don't want to hurt you, but you must listen to me!"
Rowan finally stopped in a relatively open clearing.
He turned around. His face no longer held confusion, but a cold anger mixed with fear and resolve.
"What exactly do you want, Addams?" he demanded. "Why are you chasing me?"
"You are being targeted," Wednesday said concisely, trying to ignore the increasingly thick, ominous scent of danger in the air. "I saw your death. In this forest. It will happen very soon."
Rowan suddenly revealed a bizarre smile.
"No, Wednesday. You're wrong. The one in danger is you."