In the quiet night, Wednesday abruptly opened her eyes. Velvety darkness enveloped her. The only sounds in the dorm were Enid's even, gentle breathing and the occasional faint smacking sound from Victor's side, where Venom was chewing chocolate in its sleep.
However, her inner world was far from this tranquil.
The thought she had before falling asleep.
That damn, virus-like phrase played on an automatic loop in her mind:
"Perhaps... staying in this insane asylum of an academy isn't completely unbearable."
Tolerate?
The very existence of this word in Wednesday Addams's personal dictionary was a form of blasphemy.
Tolerance meant compromise, meant lowering standards, meant... weakness.
And she, Wednesday Addams, was never weak.
Even more terrifying was the breeding ground for this thought: that idiot who screams with his bare butt out, and that Little Wolf Girl who sleeps hugging a life-sized rainbow unicorn!
It had only been two days! A mere forty-eight hours!
Had her will, once as solid as an obsidian fortress, already developed a crack?
An unprecedented alarm shrieked in her mind—infection! She was being infected by a virus named "mundane academy life" and "noisy roommates"!
She sat up violently. The cold air touched her skin but failed to cool the turbulent anxiety churning within.
She had to escape.
She had to escape before she was completely assimilated, before she started thinking things like 'rainbows are quite nice,' 'noise can be background ambiance,' or even... even harboring other, more terrifying thoughts.
The destination of her escape was no longer just away from Nevermore, but away from that potential possibility—the possibility of turning into a carbon copy of her mother, Morticia.
Becoming a campus celebrity? Captain of the fencing team? Prom queen? President of the Séance Club? And then... falling in love?
Her thoughts uncontrollably slid toward a dangerous abyss.
Two starkly different images instantly flashed in her mind: one was Victor's goofy, wide grin stretching to his ears, shining with foolish light.
The other was Victor leaning back in the car seat, that strange, dangerous, yet astonishingly attractive flush and low tone... "Oh!" Wednesday let out an extremely soft, suppressed gasp, her fingers suddenly clenching the bedsheet beneath her.
What am I thinking?!
This is more terrifying than infection! This is a late-stage symptom of mental contamination!
She must have had her mind jointly attacked by Victor's brand of boundary-less madness virus and Enid's overly infectious warmth.
Determination, like the hardest ice, instantly froze all wavering thoughts.
She needed an escape plan.
But the prerequisite for escape was first leaving the academy, this gilded cage.
However, Principal Larissa had explicitly restricted her outings. In the closed boarding environment of Nevermore Academy, without permission, she couldn't take a single step.
She lay in the darkness like a specimen displayed in a coffin, but her brain operated at maximum speed, coldly evaluating every possibility and its risk.
Scaling the walls? The academy had faculty dutifully patrolling.
Finding secret passages? Her knowledge of the building's structure wasn't deep enough yet.
Disguise? The risk was too high, easily exposed.
A conundrum. An irritating conundrum.
Yet the very next morning, a turning point appeared in an annoying, laughter-filled way.
"Harvest Festival!" Enid Sinclair burst into the dorm like a golden cannonball, her face radiating excessive enthusiasm, almost pouncing on Victor's bed.
But she braked in time—Victor was still wrapped in his blanket, only a tuft of black hair visible, with Venom spread out on his pillow like a black, snoring pancake.
"Next weekend! The principal demands everyone must attend! It's west of the town, near the forest! There's a bonfire! Dancing! Pumpkin pie! And—" Enid's eyes sparkled, "—the town's best honey caramel apples!"
Victor shot up from under the blanket, hair a mess, but his eyes frighteningly bright: "Honey caramel apples? Dancing? Sounds like some kind of collective sugar overdose frenzy! Venom! Wake up! We have a new mission! We can..."
As he spoke, he naturally looked at Enid, seemingly taking a joint outing for granted.
Venom wriggled slightly, making an indistinct sound: "...Apples... coated in chocolate... are the true way..."
Wednesday was sitting on the edge of her bed tying the laces of her spotless black leather shoes. Her movements didn't pause for a second, but her ears caught every keyword.
Harvest Festival. Off-campus. Everyone must attend.
An icy electric current instantly shot up her spine.
A heaven-sent opportunity.
She maintained outward indifference, not even bothering to look up at her two overly excited roommates, but inside, a storm was brewing.
A plan rapidly took shape in her mind, clear and cold, like a surgical procedure.
Primary principle: isolate the variables.
The two people before her—Victor, this biggest, most unpredictable source of noise and trouble magnet.
Enid, this relatively harmless but overly enthusiastic Little Wolf Girl who was prone to messing things up.
These two had to be excluded from her plan.
They must not detect even the slightest hint, and they absolutely could not be involved.
Pushing them to go to the festival together was the perfect solution.
These two, one crazy, one lively, once immersed in such a mindless celebration, would become completely engrossed and forget themselves, thereby keeping each other occupied.
She needed to facilitate this, and do it seamlessly.
Secondly, she needed an ally.
Tyler Galpin. That coffee shop employee.
Last time at the Weather Vane Café, he had almost agreed to take her to the station.
Although it ultimately failed due to Victor's variable interference, the slight defiance against his father's authority and that cautious sympathy he displayed were exploitable entry points.
She needed Tyler to appear at the Harvest Festival and be willing to take a risk for her again.
Wednesday mentally sketched and refined the details of the plan bit by bit.
How to naturally push Victor and Enid to team up? Perhaps she could... Her gaze inadvertently swept over the delicate miniature guillotine model on her nightstand.
This little thing could be sold for travel funds.
As soon as this thought arose, a strange, subtle feeling of resistance inexplicably sprouted from the depths of her heart, making her frown slightly.
Reluctance?
This absurd word almost made her snort with derision.
She, Wednesday Addams, how could she harbor such a weak emotion toward a gift?
It must be recent noise pollution causing mental disarray.
Perhaps this guillotine still had some use.
She quickly found a reason for herself, a flimsy one she couldn't fully believe—
For example, it could be used to test the reliability of a small mechanism, or... In any case, now was not the time to deal with it. The funding issue could be solved by other means.
How to contact Tyler? She remembered a flyer for part-time job openings on the café counter.
Perhaps she could anonymously order a delivery service during the Harvest Festival, specifying him to come to the academy? But that was risky.
Or, more directly, use the next counseling opportunity?
Risk assessment: Principal Larissa would definitely be present on-site for supervision.
How to avoid her line of sight? The chaos during the peak of the revelry would be good cover.
Transportation? Tyler's car was the first choice, but if it failed, a backup plan was necessary.
"Wednesday!" Enid's voice interrupted her thoughts, carrying cautious anticipation, "The Harvest Festival... you're definitely going, right? Even if you don't like it, you could just take a look, maybe..."
"I will go." Wednesday tied the final lace knot, stood up, her voice steady and unfluctuating, betraying no emotion, "The principal's requirement, I won't violate it."
She picked up her schoolbag and walked toward the door. Passing Enid, her steps didn't pause, but she left behind a carefully calculated sentence, her gaze seemingly casually sweeping over Victor:
"You two should go together. It seems you both are full of anticipation for this... sugar-driven collective frenzy. Perfect. Victor needs someone to watch him so he doesn't get chased by vendors for stealing food, and Enid..."
She deliberately paused, her gaze landing on Enid's slightly flushed face.
"...you look like you could also use someone to... share your overly abundant enthusiasm."
The effect of these words was immediate.
Enid's cheeks flushed an even deeper red.
She subconsciously glanced at Victor, who was still excitedly shaking Venom and discussing "chocolate coating thickness," then quickly looked down.
Her fingers unconsciously twisted the hem of her shirt. Her usually lively, outgoing demeanor was instantly replaced by a rare, flustered shyness.
"I... I don't... I just..." she mumbled, her voice as small as a mosquito's hum, completely lacking her usual vigor.
The door closed behind Wednesday, cutting off Victor's still carefree shouts of "Exactly! We need a chocolate strategy officer!" and Enid's almost inaudible, mumbled response.