The Weathervane Café was filled with the rich aroma of freshly baked croissants and ground coffee beans, the warm, sweet air standing in stark contrast to the desolate street outside.
Victor Black hummed an off-key tune as he pushed open the shop door. The symbiote around his neck, Venom, wriggled lazily, seemingly pleased with the sugary atmosphere.
Then he saw the scene.
Wednesday Addams, like a black whirlwind, was spinning amidst three students dressed like religious fanatics.
Her movements were precise, sharp, and carried a near-cruel aesthetic.
A spinning kick—her boot heel struck the first person's chin with pinpoint accuracy. Using the momentum, her body soared into the air, her other leg sweeping across the second person's temple. Finally, upon landing, her elbow slammed hard into the third person's stomach.
Thud! Thud! Thud!
The three 'religious fanatics' fell like cut stalks of wheat. One of them slid right up to Vic's feet, groaning and unable to move.
"Whoa," Vic whistled, genuinely impressed, stepping around the body at his feet. "Clean and efficient! The force, the angle, the arc! Perfect! Venom, look, doesn't this look like the ballet version of *Kill Bill*?"
Venom emerged from his shoulder, its huge white eyes scanning the three figures sprawled on the floor. Its tongue licked its fangs, letting out a regretful smack:
"Are these desserts for me? What a pity... they smell like cheap, expired chocolate. I'm not very hungry."
Wednesday retracted her leg, straightened the folds of her clothes, and her icy gaze swept toward Vic, then landed on the middle-aged man in a police uniform behind him—detective Donovan Galpin, whose face was grim.
Her brow furrowed almost imperceptibly.
"Vic," her voice was ice-cold. "Have you finally committed a crime worthy of a detective escort? Or has your noisiness officially been classified as a public safety hazard?"
Vic threw his hands up dramatically, feigning innocence. "Hey! I just wanted to buy some top-tier chocolate beans worthy of me and realized I didn't bring enough money."
"So," Wednesday's eyes darted between him and the detective, finally settling on his empty hands. "You chose robbery."
"Watch your words, addams!" Vic puffed out his chest, trying to salvage his crumbling dignity.
"Before leaving, I very clearly told the shopkeeper,'Send the bill to the Nevermore Academy Headmistress's office'! How is that robbery? At most, it's... delayed payment! Credit spending!"
At that moment, Venom suddenly began writhing violently on Vic's shoulder. Its attention was completely captured by the barista behind Wednesday who had been trying to lower his profile—Tyler Galpin.
Venom's huge white eyes narrowed, its nostrils flaring as it sniffed hard.
"Vic..." Venom's voice grew low, brimming with the excitement of discovery. "Wait... this scent... interesting... very interesting..."
Its gaze locked onto Tyler. Tyler instinctively took half a step back, a flicker of barely perceptible panic flashing in his eyes.
"It's like... a hidden-flavor chocolate, wrapped in layers?" Venom's voice carried a greedy curiosity.
"The outside is an ordinary milk chocolate shell, but inside... I smell something completely different, dark and rich... What is it? Let me taste it! Just one bite!"
Before the words finished, a black, viscous tentacle shot out from Vic's body, swift as lightning, instantly coiling around Tyler's arm. The tip of the tentacle even tried to creep upward, toward his neck and face!
"Get away from my son, you monster!" Detective Galpin reacted instantly, drawing his service pistol almost simultaneously. The muzzle pointed directly at Vic, his face ashen, finger tight on the trigger.
The air in the shop froze instantly. Other customers gasped softly. While they knew Nevermore Academy students were freaks, they'd never seen a black tentacled monster like this.
Vic immediately raised his hands high, yet his face still wore that cheeky grin. "Relax, relax, detective! Just a joke! My Venom is just a bit... overly hospitable, especially toward people who smell delicious."
He snapped his fingers. "Venom, back off. Don't scare our 'Hidden-Flavor Chocolate' gentleman."
Venom's tentacle reluctantly, slowly released Tyler. It hovered in the air longingly for a moment before abruptly retracting back into Vic's body.
It left behind one last regretful mutter: "What a waste of good food..."
Vic grinned at the shaken Tyler and the still gun-wielding Detective Galpin:
"No need to be nervous. Venom and I are good guys. How about buying me a hot chocolate? We can chat while we wait for my dear Headmistress aunt to come bail me out."
He said this seemingly to the detective, but his voice was just loud enough for everyone in the café to hear.
Wednesday, who had been quietly inching toward the side door, stopped dead in her tracks.
The Headmistress was coming.
This thought pierced her mind like an icy needle.
Her perfect, half-executed escape plan was once again on the verge of collapse because of this noisy variable.
She took a deep breath, almost able to picture Headmistress Larissa's old-fashioned car rolling over the pavement and stopping outside this café filled with artificial sweetness.
She rolled her eyes very quickly and very inelegantly, her face clearly etched with the annoyance of 'Nothing good ever happens when I run into you.'
She immediately changed direction. No longer attempting to leave through the side door, which the Headmistress might block from the front, she quickened her pace toward the kitchen, hoping to find another exit.
However, fate seemed determined to work against her.
Just as her hand was about to touch the kitchen curtain—
Ding-a-ling.
The café door opened.
The tall figure of Headmistress Larissa Weems appeared in the doorway. Her silver-gray bun was immaculate, her sharp gaze sweeping across the room like a searchlight.
The three groaning students on the floor, the gun-wielding detective, the pale-faced Tyler, the grinning Vic with his hands up, and... Wednesday, frozen mid-stride as she tried to slip toward the kitchen.
Larissa's gaze fixed precisely on Wednesday. The corner of her mouth lifted into a faint, yet intensely pressuring, curve.
"Miss Addams," her voice was steady, yet carried undeniable weight. "It seems your 'restroom' trip extended several blocks away?"
Wednesday slowly lowered her hand from the curtain. She turned, her expression blank as she met the Headmistress's gaze, as if the person trying to sneak away moments ago wasn't her.
"Conducting an urban walking survey," she replied coldly. "The hygiene standards here are concerning." Her gaze meaningfully swept over the three figures still moaning on the floor.
Headmistress Larissa didn't seem inclined to delve deeper at that moment.
Her gaze shifted to Detective Galpin, who finally lowered his gun slowly, though his eyes remained full of vigilance.
"Donovan," Larissa's tone held a familiar note. "It seems there's been a bit of a commotion."
"Larissa," the detective's voice was stiff. "Your student... one of them," he glared fiercely at Vic, "tried to attack my son with that... black thing of his!"
"It was an enthusiastic physical greeting and a taste appreciation invitation!" Vic corrected, finally lowering his somewhat sore arms.
"The detective's comprehension skills clearly need improvement. Aunt Headmistress, you came just in time. Please vouch for me as a law-abiding citizen and pay my chocolate bean bill while you're at it?"
Headmistress Larissa ignored Vic's antics. Her eyes moved between the black residue on Tyler's arm and Vic, then back to the three students dressed like religious fanatics on the floor.
"I will handle these matters," she said to the detective, her tone signaling the end of the discussion.
"Including these... students who clearly need to relearn school rules and respect for others. I will contact their headmaster." She cast a cold glance at the figures on the floor.
The detective seemed to want to say more, but under Larissa's calm yet imposing stare, he merely pressed his lips together, nodded, holstered his gun, and led Tyler aside to speak in low tones.
Larissa then turned her gaze back to Wednesday and Vic.
"It seems," she began slowly, her voice betraying no emotion, "today's counseling session ended early and expanded its content in a... rather unconventional manner."
She looked at Vic. "Your 'credit spending.'"
Then at Wednesday. "Your 'urban walk.'"
"Now," she stepped aside, clearing the path to the door, and made a 'please' gesture. "Both of you, it's time to return to the Academy. We need to have a... more in-depth conversation."
Vic let out an exaggerated sigh, his shoulders slumping. "Alright, alright, conversation it is. But Aunt Headmistress, can I have a hot chocolate to calm my nerves before the talk? Preferably with three chocolate brownies..."
Wednesday, however, remained silent. She picked up her suitcase and walked past the Headmistress expressionlessly, ready to exit the café first.
Only her tightly clenched hand on the suitcase handle, knuckles white, betrayed her inner turmoil.
Her escape had once again been declared a failure.
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