Nevermore Academy was never quiet for long. The gargoyles above the gothic spires had barely settled from last semester’s chaos when whispers of fresh crimes began to slither through the halls. Students vanished without explanation, and claw marks deep as graves scarred the stone walls of the west wing.

Wednesday Addams sat in her dorm, typewriter clacking mercilessly as she documented each disturbing detail. Her mind thrived on carnage; this was practically a gift.

Across the room, Enid Sinclair hummed while painting her nails neon pink. The smell of bubblegum polish clashed violently with the musty, iron-scented air Wednesday adored.

“Do you think it’s another Hyde?” Enid asked, fangs flashing nervously. “Or maybe some kind of demon? Because, honestly, I can handle claws, but I draw the line at horns.”

Wednesday didn’t look up. “If it were a demon, we’d already be dead. And frankly, I’d prefer it that way. Simplicity in slaughter.”

Enid sighed. She’d learned long ago that Wednesday’s comfort zone lay somewhere between murder fantasies and funeral plans.

But things shifted when Wednesday’s visions returned, violent, uncontrollable. Each time, her head snapped back, body rigid, as scenes of blood-soaked corridors filled her mind. She saw the victims one by one. She saw…a shadow with glowing eyes.

Enid caught her each time, claws instinctively out, pulling Wednesday close until the visions subsided. For a moment, Wednesday hated how much she needed the warmth of Enid’s embrace.

They began investigating together. Wednesday interrogated suspects with cold precision, threatening decapitation if they lied. Enid sniffed out trails with her lupine senses, her cheery chatter distracting people until they spilled secrets. Somehow, their methods worked perfectly in tandem—death and light, fangs and poison.

The deeper they dug, the darker it became. Someone, or something, was hunting students with a taste for both outcasts and normies.

And then the nightmares started. Wednesday dreamed of Enid drenched in blood, teeth bared, standing over a body.

When Wednesday confronted her, Enid’s smile faltered. “You think I’d hurt them?” she whispered. Her eyes glowed faintly gold under the moonlight.

“Not you,” Wednesday replied, voice low and sharp. “But something wants me to believe it’s you. Which means they’re clever. And I detest clever rivals.”