Wednesday has done something she believed would never happen.
She felt great exasperation with her typewriter. The electromechanical machine.
It had begun the moment she stepped inside her room - the goth girls shielded space from the inconvenient verisimilitude world. Following her disputation with Y/n and, abnormally enough, then having a converse over their supposition of whether the gargoyle was an attempted murderer, Wednesday found no inducement to head to class.
Of course, the other basis was the cranky and glum state she was in. The goth girl's rumination orbited Y/n's assertion he made earlier; an inane claim with no adduce. Only artless people will shut down the assumption.
Yet, she and Y/n were more indefatigable with their supposition.
Rage still lingered in the braided pig-tailed student, besides the displeasure and violent emotion was puzzlement. She was having a marginal calamity in believing someone was trying to terminate her existence.
And needless to say, she didn't know who.
This entire occurrence was irrational - illogical with no meaning behind it. This was only her first week in this Academy, however, kismet was onset to test her aptitude. Pathetic, but unusually enough, diverting.
Call it her sadistic side, Wednesday found the attempted murder of her amusing. This wasn't the first time someone has aimed to harm her - harm she relishes to reciprocate. All she had to do was find the perpetrator. A task she will perceive as arduous the reason she has no clues.
Conceivably, she could acquire Y/n's he-
No.
She shouldn't estimate his help - Wednesday didn't need his succor for this endeavor. The goth girl has done it in the past, and although strenuous, she was able to manage it alone. Wednesday under no circumstances will need anyone's help, she refuses to be a damsel in distress.
Yet, her mind kept drifting to Y/n. It was rather infuriating - to be uninformed of someone - and perplexed, still. Their past conversations substantiated he was obscuring something.
There was no attestation regarding her abrupt claim, however, she was pertinacious. It was more of a wary sentiment washing over her on any occasion she was with him. An aberrant emotion.
Regardless of the deficient evidence, she is still cognizant that he is concealing something. Y/n made an unforeseen allege - one she would never come up with instantly after her incident in the courtyard. The assertion sounded worldly, and when she tried to inquire if he experienced it, he merely declined.
He is truly a walking conundrum.
She can almost feel a migraine stirring at the thought of him.
An exasperated sigh escaped her dark burgundy lips as she stared at the misspelled word she typed in her novella. Wednesday was starting to grow irked with her typewriter, unaware of her turbulent emotions being the logic for her absentminded typing.
The sound of her fingers rapidly making contact with the keys of her typewriter begin to fade as Wednesday's thoughts drifted to her conversation with Y/n, consequently to the attempted murder someone tried to commit on her. How vexing it was indeed - to direct her scrutiny to her rumination.
Eventually, she regained her awareness and gazed at the dozens of misspelled words she typed, anew. A second sigh was produced as she found her attempt to cynosure her typewriter was futile.
Wednesday leaned on her chair, shifting her gaze to the ceiling as if she was awaiting an answer to all her conflicts.
It was an inquiry stuck in her head, resting beside the other questions she has as collections. Each one held dozens of answers to the conflict, yet she was impuissant to find a solution.
How will she escape this Academy?
With her mind revolving on Y/n and the problem, Wednesday hasn't found the time to figure out an intention to decamp. To escape this edifice her parents brought her to clone a version of them.
Wednesday refuses to be a duplication of them - a copy that will follow in her mother's footsteps. She will never fall in love and be a housewife.
She will escape this educational penitentiary.
And confound her mother's piteous surmise.
"It was caused by someone."
Then her mind flickered to what Y/n told her and she felt another foreign feeling emerge - an innominate feeling she couldn't name. The goth girl felt her tendency howl coward at her for trying to escape the conflicts that rested in her path.
The foremost being Y/n and the culprit.
She pursed her lips the stronger the sentiment obtain. This was improbable - to let her emotions hold her back as if they held jurisdiction over her decisions. They render her in a dubious state.
All because of Y/n.
Wednesday scowled.
Not once in her life did she contemplate whether she should follow her emotional arbitration. Never.
This all beg-
Squeak
Wednesday's head slowly drifts over her shoulder, and her anthracite eyes land on the mattress. At first, the goth girl would disregard the resound as a mere gnawer scavenging for nutrients. However, Wednesday knew it was a foolish thought, she perceived who it was.
A hilarious scene in her view - how it seeks to camouflage its presence - and ignorant for not realizing she knew it was there all this time. Following her wherever she went and being conspicuous of its fingers tapping against the wooden floor.
Did it really believe she was that obtuse?
She took a leisurely pace - each step slow to render it to a distressed state. Yanking the covers off, Wednesday stared at the all-familiar dismembered scarred hand as it jumped in surprise.
"I knew it." Wednesday restrains a conceited smile from appearing. "Hello, Thing."
The mutilated hand scurries beneath the covers to conceal its appearance, clenching the bed frame forcibly. Wednesday briefly rolls her eyes at Thing's incapable action before rapidly grabbing and yanking it vigorously from the bed frame.
"Did you really think my highly trained olfactory sense wouldn't pick up on the family whiff of neroli and bergamot in your favorite hand lotion?" Wednesday's obsidian eyes gazed at Thing, unblinking. She turns around, making her way to her table as she applies more force to her grip the more Think wriggles. "I could do this all day."
Wednesday slams the mutilated scarred hand onto the table. Perhaps of the long day she has had, more so with the conflicts she has obtained, the braided pig-tailed student wasn't in the mood to be discreet.
Thing attempts to escape from the goth girl's fierce hold - nugatory since it wasn't acquiring any progress - only the table tremble beneath its struggle.
Wednesday eyes the hand impassively. "Surrender?"
Thing taps the desk frantically, signaling its capitulate. It slowly stands on its five fingers, trembling along the way. She restrains an eye roll at the debilitated state Thing was in.
"Mother and father sent you to spy on me, didn't they?" Wednesday behest. Thing answers by wiggling no with its index finger, a reply that didn't satiate her demand. "I'm not above breaking a few fingers." the threat came out lower than ordinary, but it was starting to get the desired effect.
"The fact that they thought I wouldn't find out proves how much they underestimate me." Wednesday scoffs at Things response of assurance as it continues to sign rapidly. "Oh, Thing, you poor, naive appendage."
Wednesday goes silent for a transient moment, agitating the scarred hand before her, and leans vaguely down. "My parents aren't worried about me. They're evil puppeteers who want to pull my strings even from afar." Thing remains still, ambivalent of its next signal response, it slightly jumps as Wednesday's voice cuts in.
"The way I see it, you have two options. Option one." Wednesday's voice was laced with an ultimatum. Thing was alarmed as the goth girl grasped it and opens her drawer, bringing it closer to the open cabinet. "I lock you in here for the rest of the semester, and you will go slowly insane trying to claw your way out, ruining your nails, and your smooth, supple skin. And we both know how vain you are."
The goth girl was cognizant that applying consternation to the scarred hand will evince the fidelity she needs. She impedes a glee smirk from materializing as Thing claws the desk, already commencing to break.
"Option two." she returns Thing to the desk, a glare starting to form on her face. "You pledge your undying loyalty to me."
Thing taps its fingers, dubious to commit its devotion. Wednesday's glare sharpens inchmeal as she awaited an answer. The scarred hand then kneels on its knuckles, pledging its adherence.
"Our first order of business is to escape this teenage purgatory," Wednesday announces as Thing points, earning a second scoff from the braided pig-tailed girl. "Of course, I have a plan. I'm not a brainless individual to be imprudent of the incautious obstacles."
Thing remains still for a fleeting moment before making hand signals. The goth girl rose an eyebrow as she perceived what it was referring to. "What do you mean there's a part of me that wishes to not depart from this edifice perdition?"
The scarred mutilated hand responds with a couple of hand gestures before pointing at her.
"I gauge you are correct." Wednesday hummed. "A side of me is hindering me from absconding. I still incline to stay and exact retribution."
Thing walks closer to her and begins to throw hand signals, tapping on the table at the end. It was there when Wednesday and Y/n were holding a conversation over the incident that has transpire early. The scarred hand wasn't able to advise the Addams family of the problem.
Wednesday's glare returns. "I know there's a culprit who tried to exterminate my existence. The falling carving is the verification I need to prove my supposition correct. I will detect the perpetrator."
The appendage throws more hand signals at her, apprehensive of the goth girl's reaction. Its assumption was proven precise as Wednesday stands up from her chair in posthaste.
"I do not have a fixation for Y/n." Wednesday hisses.
Thing merely disregards her abrupt reaction aside and continues to throw more hand signals. Wednesday bares her teeth at the scarred hand as it continues.
"What a farcical claim you presume, Thing. I do not harbor an affection directed towards him." Wednesday says abhorrently. "I would propound halting any more ideas of what you're thinking before I reconsider my choice and throw you to grow hysterical in the drawer."
If Thing had eyes, it would straightforwardly roll them at her riposte. However, Wednesday knew the posture that the hand docked, and she felt more exasperation.
Thing then followed with slow hand signals, ending with shaping a heart. That was all needed as Wednesday slammed her hands on the desk sternly, before grabbing the dismembered hand.
"I will not be his inamorata - his leman for everyone gaze upon. I disallow the notion of following my mother's footsteps and ending up as his housewife." Wednesday snarled loudly, gripping the scarred hand as it appeared unfazed. In fact, it seemed to take satisfaction in her reaction.
The thought of it was imbecilic - preposterous for even remarking it - the goth girl scarcely knew the enigma of Y/n and she refused to even ruminate a relationship with him.
They both held secrets locked in the darkest part of their encephalon. Those secrets resembled prisoners - convicts for what they committed and wished to keep secure. However, Wednesday was aware her secrets didn't come close to what Y/n was obscuring.
Thing tapped her pale hand, garnering her attention. The goth girl waited for the dismembered scarred hand to finish, lifting an eyebrow at its ending signals.
"What do you mean Y/n gives you a forbidding sentiment?"
Thing hastily threw more signals, expressing the animus Y/n was able to acquire from the appendage.
Wednesday let out a sigh. "I know. He also makes me feel uneasy. There isn't much information I'm able to obtain from him. Yet, we shouldn't let it hinder our plans."
The goth girl placed Thing on the desk again as she placed both of her hands on the desk, looming over the mutilated scarred hand.
"Eventually, all will unravel."