"I thought that psychopath was supposed to be locked up in Willow Hill Psychiatric Hospital," Wednesday said, her tone edged with irritation. "How, exactly, did he get out?"
Morticia's expression dimmed slightly. "Willow Hill has always mistaken sedation for security. A tragic institutional flaw."
"Especially when housing serial killers with dissociative monster transformations," Wednesday replied.
Ethan straightened, wiping the blood from his fingers. "Either he escaped on his own, or somebody let him out."
"Neither possibility inspires confidence," Morticia said calmly.
Thing tapped anxiously against Wednesday's shoulder.
Wednesday glanced toward the trees, her eyes narrowing. "Tyler without restraint is already problematic. Tyler wandering through a forest full of students is statistically irritating."
"You say that like you're personally offended by the inconvenience," Ethan muttered.
"I am."
Morticia smiled faintly at that. "You always did process danger through annoyance. Even as a child."
"It saves time."
Wednesday kept walking, the beam of her torch cutting through the trees ahead of them.
"But I don't think Tyler is here anymore," she said.
"If he were, he would have come after Ethan by now. Tyler doesn't possess the emotional restraint required to ignore someone who beat him unconscious and left his pride bleeding on the floor."
Ethan glanced at her. "That's a very poetic way to describe self-defense."
Wednesday ignored him. "More likely, he realized Ethan is too dangerous to confront directly and decided retreat was the better survival strategy."
Morticia's lips curved slightly as she watched her daughter. "I believe this is the first time I've heard you praise someone so sincerely, Wednesday."
"It wasn't praise," Wednesday replied immediately. "It was an assessment."
"Mm." Morticia's smile widened just enough to be irritating. "And yet you sounded almost protective."
Wednesday finally looked at her mother, her eyes narrowing slightly. "Don't attempt to psychoanalyze me, mother. You'll only disappoint yourself."
They continued deeper into the woods for another thirty minutes, the trees growing denser as the trail slowly disappeared beneath dead leaves and damp soil. The cold felt sharper here, unnatural enough that even the air seemed heavier.
Wednesday swept the torchlight across the ground, searching for any remaining sign of movement.
"Tyler's tracks stop here," she said, her voice cutting cleanly through the silence. "Either he vanished into thin air or something concealed the trail."
"Perhaps," Morticia said smoothly, "it's a sign we should return to camp and allow trained professionals to handle things from here."
Wednesday didn't even look at her. "Professionals are usually just people with paperwork and inflated confidence."
Morticia smiled faintly. "Your faith in authority remains inspiring."
"I find blind optimism more concerning."
Ethan ignored both of them and walked toward a cluster of trees ahead. One of them curved strangely with the others around it, forming something almost doorway-shaped in the darkness.
He stopped in front of it and slowly extended his hand.
Something was there.
His fingers touched an invisible surface, faint ripples spreading through the air like disturbed water. A barrier. Hidden, but solid enough to stop him.
"Wow, that goat definitely has a hand in this," Ethan said.
Now he was sure who had helped Tyler escape. It had to be Baphomet.
But why the hell would a demon like that bother with Tyler? His mind was already unstable and weak. For something that powerful, Tyler should have been beneath its attention.
Wednesday immediately stepped closer after seeing the distortion in the air. She reached out and touched the invisible surface, watching the faint ripple spread across it.
"Fascinating," she said.
Morticia moved beside her and placed her hand lightly against the barrier as well, her expression thoughtful rather than alarmed.
"A hidden threshold," she murmured. "Not improvised either. This was made carefully." Her fingers traced the ripple in the air. "Very old occult work. The sort that requires patience, sacrifice, and a concerning amount of free time."
Wednesday glanced toward her mother. "You sound familiar with it."
Morticia smiled faintly. "Your father once attempted something similar during our second honeymoon. We accidentally trapped a bishop in a mausoleum for three days."
Ethan blinked once. "I'm not even going to ask."
"A wise decision," Morticia replied pleasantly.
"Ethan, break it," Wednesday said as she immediately stepped back several paces. Then she looked toward Morticia. "You should move as well, mother."
Morticia gave a soft scoff but stepped back anyway, stopping beside Wednesday.
Ethan rolled his shoulder once, then raised his right hand. Blood-red energy began gathering around his fist, thin strands of lightning snapping through it as the air around his arm started to distort under the pressure.
The ground beneath his feet cracked slightly.
He pulled his arm back.
Then punched forward.
The moment his fist connected with the invisible barrier, a violent shockwave burst outward through the woods, trees bending hard from the impact as the hidden surface rippled violently in front of him.
Cracks spread across the air itself like shattered glass, jagged fractures racing outward from the point of impact while the sound tore through the forest loud enough to send birds exploding out of the trees.
***
A/N: And on Patreon, The Boys arc started.
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