Chapter 4

Biting autumnal gales, which rustled leaves and crept into your bones alike, swept through the quiet, mid-morning streets-it played with Lenore’s thick curls, tugging at her oversized clothes, uselessly trying to chill the werewolf’s bones.

The sharp, short jingle of a bell cut through the silence as she pushed open the cold doors of The Weathervane-the door clicked shut behind her. A shiver ran up her spine as she looked over at the counter-where she half expected to see a Hyde. Instead, she simply saw an awfully familiar boy.

He stood hulking behind the counter, draped in a shearling jacket, and a homemade knitted jumper-unlike when she last saw him, months ago, his dark waves were buzzed short-the grey blue undereye bags still hung heavy on his pale, freckle dusted skin, though.

“Maty?” Lenore questioned through a breathy chuckle, approaching the counter where he stood. As he laid eyes on her, a wide grin twisted his lips, and his dark eyes were forced to squint by his smile. “What are you doing here?” She asked.

“You know I live in Jericho.” He responded playfully, earning a fond roll of her eyes. “I thought I would take a second job, save up for Avery and me; so, I’m working here before and after school.” He replied honestly. “What about you? Can’t imagine you’ve been in town long.”

“About two days.” She said.

“Anything interesting happened yet?” He asked, turning back to turn on the machine-it whirred, hitched, and then started working. “Far too much.” She admitted.

“Near a full moon, too? That can’t be easy.” He said as she slipped a mug under the spouts of the machine. “Yeah, well, you’d know.” She leaned against the counter, tracing circles against the wood. 

“Not how you do.” He said. 

“Yeah, I suppose not.” She muttered.

“Your brother’s joined the school, right? Is he settling in well?” Mateo asked. 

“Better than I, though he’s more charismatic than me.”

“And social. Did he join the pack?”

“He did, yeah.”

Mateo turned around, dwarfing a porcelain mug in his large hands-he silently slid it across the counter, towards Lenore, “how much is that?” She asked, opening her banking app. He shook his head. 

“On the house.”

“Mat, no.” She responded simply.

He shrugged. “I won’t tell if you don’t.” He said.

Lenore scoffed fondly, then took it. “Thank you.” She slowly sipped-rich chocolate melted against her tongue, and she hummed contently. “Wow, that Hyde wasn’t good for shit, was he? This is so much better than his. I will be coming around more often.”

Mateo chuckled; a deep, warm sound that seemed to shake the air. “I might have to charge you then.”

“Well, if you don’t, I might just tip you more.” She replied.

Lenore settled herself down in a booth, leaning back against the leather, shifting to get comfortable. It was rather cramped for her, given her large legs and broad shoulders. Mateo seemed to tower over her even with her respectable height.

“Come on, join me.” Her fingers thrummed against the table invitingly; he hesitated. He looked around the shop, which was empty, then outside into the cold, eerily quiet town-and conceded, breathing out fondly as he walked out from behind the counter.

Lenore snorted upon seeing how the dull green apron struggled to hug around his bear like torso. The booth and table shook as he slumped down, their knees bumping against each other in the booth.

“So,” he started, “have you made any friends?”

“Not so much.” She replied.

“What about your little pigtailed protege?” He asked. “I saw coming out of the police station yesterday; is she already embarrassing the local police again?”

Lenore’s brows furrowed, casting a thunderous expression onto her sculpted features, “what are you talking about?” She asked-voice laced thickly with concern. “Oh, um, Avery and I were coming back from dinner, we saw her walk out of station with her father. I just assumed she had started investigating the recent deaths.” He explained.

“What deaths?” She asked.

“Carl Bradbury and old Galpin were found dead, missing their eyes recently. Yesterday and last night.” He said.

Lenore fell silent, a thoughtful expression scrawled over her features, visible from how she chewed on her cheek and dark brows, which were tightly knitted together. “It was nice seeing you,”-she swallowed down what remained of her hot chocolate, then raised from her seat- “I’ll swing around soon, but I’ve got to talk to Wednesday.”

Mateo frowned subtly-he looked rather like a kicked puppy-he rose from his seat; he gently tugged Lenore’s arm, pulling her into a warm hug, and she squeezed him playfully. “See you later,” she said once she pulled away, he nodded and grabbed the mug to wash it up.

Lenore waved lazily over her shoulder, stepping out into the chilling, windy day, which called past her ears in a whipping whisper.

—–

Lenore’s heart raced in her chest as she squeezed through a thin, jagged gap in the grand wall which surrounded the school-it was hidden behind a towering, winding oak tree, whose leaves had changed from a glowing green to something softer, equally as bright, oranges and yellows.

Her scuffed trainers crunched against the dewy grass, which was covered by crackling autumn leaves, they were curled up, dried out-she found herself playfully kicking at the piles of them, before she collected herself and approached the school.

As she pushed through the grand wooden doors, which creaked under her strength; younger, giggling students rushed past her, they missed colliding into her by inches, the skin of her teeth. She breathed out a growl.

Lenore walked, with caution in her very bones, through the halls before stepping out into the courtyard-her stomach dropped, then twisted. Toilet paper was strewn over the columns, sculptures, and battlements of the yard-with hyper students running around, pushing past and into people.

Her eyes caught Ajax, who stared out mournfully-his face flat; she followed his gaze, finding Bruno caressing Enid’s cheek, who stared at him like he hung the stars. In all honestly, she felt sympathy for him-he deserved closure.

Beside him, Pugsley stood, along aside Eugene, who held an oddly mischievous expression on his face-the spirit of Prank Day, Lenore surmised.

Anger flickered across her face-she jumped into action as she saw Eugene use insects to attack her brother, who yelped and jumped as they bit him; she lunged down the stairs. Her slender yet crushingly strong fingers gripped around his neck-she squeezed mercilessly, making him wince and squirm.

“Call them off.” She bit through gritted teeth; he nodded, then quickly called them back, screwing the lid of the jar back on. “Don’t go near my brother again.” She warned gravely. She released her grip on his neck. Lenore slapped Pugsley around his head; he simply took it, and as she descended the stairs, she stomped on Ajax’s foot.

As Lenore crossed the bustling courtyard, muffled yells caught her ear-deeply panicked-she could smell the fear licking off them like smoke off flames. Before she could stop herself, she walked towards where she heard the screaming-she shoved a boy, who was laughing like a hyena; he opened his mouth to shout at her, but once he met her eyes-he froze and began to tremble like a leaf.

Lenore’s claws snapped out with sickening crack-she slashed through the chains, which fell away and jingled against the ground. With a low grunt, she pried open the coffin; the boy inside, slightly younger than her, sat up. He looked around hurriedly, breathing sudden and sharp.

She helped his trembling form out of the coffin, leading him away from his captors and inside, into relative quiet-he braced himself against the wall-his breathing came rapidly, short and sharp.

“Come on,” she said, “breath with me.” She breathed in for four seconds, then held it, then released it; he followed along, his breathing quickened momentarily, then he calmed down, and his shoulders slumped, relaxing slightly.

“What happened here?” A soft, concern voice said-sending a shiver up Lenore’s spine; she looked over at the boy. She raised her brow-do want her to know? It asked simply; he shook his head. “Nothing, just got a little panicked over Prank Day.” She laughed out mirthlessly, a humourless exhale through her nose. “Are you sure?” Miss Capri asked him.

He froze, opening his mouth, then closing it. Lenore stepped forward, a sudden calmness had taken over her-though her eyes didn’t show it-they burned with an intensity; she looked through her brows, making her seem more domineering than she was. She rolled her shoulders, squaring them protectively. “Yeah. He’s sure.” She said.

Miss Capri raised her chin, her deep hazel eyes met Lenore’s-the younger werewolf didn’t look away nor blink, though the teacher didn’t flinch at the challenge, not like most people-a smirk twitched at the corner of her lips.

Lenore only tore her eyes away when she felt her body betraying her; goosebumps danced along her skin, her heart raced in her chest, and a shudder ran up her spine. “I should go.” She breathed out; an audible strain pulling at her voice.

“Thank you.” It came quietly from the boy, who lingered by the door; she offered him a genuine smile, a rare sight-a dimple showed on her left cheek, flashing her white, too sharp teeth. “No need to thank me.” Then, she left, ascending the stairs which creaked beneath her feet as she jogged up several flights, past her own dorm, then finally coming to the highest floor of Ophelia Hall.

Once Lenore reached Wednesday’s dorm, she tilted her head, looking at the fanart, which was plastered her door and windows, earning an amused snort. Her knuckles rapped against the door, thumping footsteps approached.

“What have I- Lenore.” Wednesday’s threat was cut short when she realised it wasn’t a crazed fan, only Lenore. “Can I come in?”

Wednesday’s movements were slow-hesitant, like she was walking through molasses as she stepped back and allowed her in. “What are you doing here?” She asked.

“Can’t I visit my favourite Junior?” Lenore asked, earning a doubtful look from Wednesday. “Yeah, fair enough… why were you at the police station last night?”

She froze-glared at Lenore through narrowed eyes and crossed her arms over her chest defiantly. The werewolf raised pointedly raised an eyebrow, staring at her patiently as she waited for Wednesday to crumble under her disapproving gaze. Moments later, she did.

“Galpin asked for my help, when I visited him, he was dead, his eyes pecked out, and birds flew up his throat.” Wednesday said.

Lenore’s teeth sunk into her cheek, she shifted her weight between her feet as a thoughtful expression crossed her features-a memory flashed in her mind, “by chance, one of those wasn’t a one-eyed, scarred raven, right?” Lenore asked-Wednesday full attention snapped up to her.

“You’ve seen it, too?”

“Yeah. It was watching me yesterday.”

Wednesday suddenly spun on her heel, and held a glassy, vaguely familiar eye out to Lenore. “What are you doing with an eye?” She asked.

“Galpin’s.” Wednesday answered dismissively. “Can you get anything from it?”

Lenore huffed, then leaned in, tentatively sniffing the eye, “alcohol, young naive confidence-I doubt that’s Galpin, perfume, rust and metal.” She listed.

Wednesday rapidly snatched away the eye-much to Lenore’s relief and dropped it in a jar of water on her desk. She grabbed a black leather bag from her perfectly-mostly obsessively-made bed, then she turned to Thing; who was perched contently on Goody’s book, mindlessly flipping through it.

“Watch Enid. I need to question Tyler about his father.” Wednesday told him, earning a disapproving glare from Lenore. “You can either join me or not, your glare isn’t changing anything; I’m still going to go visit the Hyde in his backwater bell jar.” She stated, earning a resigned sigh from Lenore-there goes her plans for today.

Wednesday began to pull open drawers, rifling through Enid’s drawers, before snatching a piece from her desk, which was pinned beneath a binder. “Got a ride.” She stated. A muffled, familiar voice came from the landing outside her dorm-Enid.

She didn’t blink, simply snatching Lenore’s wrist, clamping down harshly and pulling her out onto the balcony-the dorm door opened moments after they left; Lenore smiled subtly as the shorter girl dragged her along.

—–

Wednesday strolled along-spine straight, a sense of superiority hanging off her like a cloak-her heels tapped sharply against the damp tarmac road, which was dotted with crumbling leaf litter; the twisted, old iron gate slowly closed behind them as a car approached them.

The burgundy car slowly stopped before them-it was rather obnoxious looking, from the eye-catching white writing scrawled over the doors to the miniature version perched atop, which wobbled with the car.

“Enid Sinclair?” A nasally voice asked, belonging to a balding older man, who Lenore pitied as soon as her eyes laid on him-his sanity surely wouldn’t last long. Wednesday silently held out Enid’s permission slip, which he took, then invited her in. “All right, uh, get in.” He said, shuffling across to the passenger side.

Wednesday slid in, followed by Lenore, who pulled open the door, which swung out quickly-she winced, releasing she had pulled it open far too harshly; she sat herself behind Wednesday. Surprisingly, the driving instructor didn’t blink or so much as question her presence.

“Seatbelt.” He enunciated-Lenore found herself with an almost overwhelming urge to smash his against the dashboard; she tucked in her hands into her pockets to subdue it. “Okay, here at 3rd Wheel Driving, we respect the vehicle, other drivers and the road.” He began, “do you have any previous driving experience? Video games don’t count.”

“My uncle used to let me sit behind the wheel while we ran errands.” She responded flatly. Lenore assumed those errands consisted of breaking traffic laws, likely moral ones, too.

“Sure.” He chortled. It was obvious he didn’t believe her. Lenore settled down onto the chair, her head lulled against the window-she prepared herself for whatever was to come. Their conversation faded into monotonous background noise-she kept herself busy by clicking her claws out and sheathing them, they were stuffed inside her pocket.

Sharply, Lenore pulled back, then ws thrown forward-the belt dug into her chest, and her heart leapt to her throat.

—–

After forty or so minutes, multiple prayers, and putting the fear of Wednesday into the driving instruction, who was splayed out against his seat, and whimpered every five seconds-they parked up; Lenore was thrown forward, she practically jumped from the car, and stumbled in her haste to get away from the death trap on wheels.

Wednesday, calm as ever, joined her moments later. “I’m driving back.” Lenore stated-she then sighed wearily as she watched their ride speed off. “You can drive?” Wednesday questioned, tone sewn with an offensive amount of doubt.

“Of course I can.” Lenore scoffed.

Wednesday strode towards the guard booth, which was built into dull, weather worn stone, which was lined with stripes of aging. Lenore lingered hesitantly behind her, slumped forward to make herself appear smaller, maybe then the guards wouldn’t see her, or her discomfort. Her eyes flickered around the facility, and she shifted her weight between her feet. “I’m here to see Tyler Galpin.” Wednesday stated.

“Hey, Ross, check it out. Got another one of those weirdo fangirls who’s got the hots for the Hyde.” He laughed out dryly, his comment made Lenore’s aching teeth grind together. “Quit wasting our time and find something else to obsess over. You know, like, boy bands or puppies.”

As Lenore went to defend her, Wednesday, unflinching as usual, slapped down the paperwork before the mocking guard. “Call your supervisors and tell them Wednesday Addams is here. That’s Addams with two ds, like “padded room.” She ordered.

He flicked through the paperwork, confusion deep on his face, then he picked up the phone, glaring at her while he did.

—–

Lenore loomed protectively behind Wednesday with her fingers digging into the back of her chair-they juxtaposed another. The gothic girl wore formal attire, fitted perfectly for her, while Lenore hadn’t changed; her baggy joggers hung low on her hips, revealing her boxer’s band, only now she had the sleeves of her hoodie tied around her neck.

Her light eyes flickered around the room, while her muscles were visibly tense beneath her dark skin; she squinted against the bright colours of the room. Trinkets covered every surface, while the walls shone painfully at her, salmon pink laid above the white wainscotting.

“Jellybean?” The administrator offered, tapping the jar on her desk. A painfully wide smile was plastered on her painted lips, showing bleached white teeth. Silence hung thickly in the air-Wednesday’s blank gaze fixed on the stranger.

“She means no thank you.” Lenore responded for Wednesday.

She sighed and turned her attention to the paperwork which laid on her desk. “I’m impressed. As a stickler for proper form etiquette, you have left no box unchecked.” She chuckled forcefully.

“This isn’t my first time with the criminally insane.” Wednesday said blankly. Lenore sighed wearily. “When can I see Tyler?”

“Ah, hold those pigtails. Dr. Fairburn will need to make that call.” She answered sweetly-a snarl twitched Lenore’s lips, rumbling shortly in her throat. The administrators eyes widened. “Is that Tyler’s handler?”

“Handler? We’re not a zoo.” Her smile fell, and offense flickered momentarily on her face.

“You’re right. Zoos don’t pretend animals can change their nature with electroshock therapy and daily drug cocktails.” Wednesday bit.

“Dr. Fairburn is the Chief psychiatrist, and a pioneer in the field of Outcast mental health. I have her book here somewhere,”-she stood up, approaching her bookshelf, and slid out a book- “her book, Unlocking the Outcast Mind. It’s required reading in medical schools around the country. She even inscribed it.” She opened the book, revealing elegant, loopy handwriting written over the first page.

Wednesday’s eyes flickered boredly between the book and woman. “Is Dr. Fairburn an outcast?” She asked.

“No. Why does that matter?” She asked-Lenore scoffed, raising her eyebrows as annoyance settled on her chest. “It’s like a vegetarian writing a book on cannibalism.” Wednesday stated.

“She’s right. No werewolf I know would want a psychiatrist who hasn’t experienced the intoxicating pull of the moon. They couldn’t properly connect. I’m sure other Outcasts feel the same.” Lenore added. The woman’s attention snapped to her, paling at the werewolf’s appearance, from her height, muscular arms, shoulders, and cutting canines. “I’ve always been sceptical of psychiatrists.” Wednesday added.

“Me too.” Someone spoke from behind them; voice laced with a British accent. Lenore had heard her muted footsteps against linoleum floors, and she calmly turned to face her. Her eyes flickered up and down her frame. A dark-skinned woman with cropped curly hair wearing a pristine jumpsuit stood in the doorway.

“Hello, Wednesday.” She greeted; her eyes were fixed on Lenore. “I’m Doctor Fairburn. Tyler has spoken of you often.”

Wednesday stood beside Lenore, who subtly stepped forward, between stranger and Wednesday, which was she sure the doctor took notice of. “I hope my name leaves a bad taste in his mouth.” Wednesday responded.

Doctor Fairburn smirked subtly to herself, “thank you, Judi.” She said. “Walk with me.” She told Wednesday, then stepped out into the dull hallways-Lenore’s nose scrunched up at the strong smell of disinfectant.

Lenore followed, tagging behind them as Fairburn and Wednesday stood beside each other; her hands were shoved in her pockets, muscles taut with tension as she looked around. Patients, who wandered aimlessly or sat on benches stared at her, some had glassy, blank eyes, while others seemed curious of the stranger.

“Why do you want to see Tyler?” Fairburn asked.

“To parrot my former psychiatrist, who Tyler gutted like freshly caught trout, I need closure.” Wednesday answered, earning a roll of Lenore’s eyes; she pinched the bridge of her eyes, a headache beginning to bubble between her eyes. “I granted your request with the court weeks ago, so I knew you would show your face sooner or later,”-Fairburn looked over her shoulder, glancing over at Lenore-“although, I didn’t expect you to bring company. I’m guessing you chose today because of Donovan Galpin’s murder.”

“Has Tyler heard the news?”

“Tyler has proven to be a particularly manipulative and uncooperative patient. Of course, I’ve never dealt with a Hyde before, so this is uncharted territory.” Fairburn explained.

“Have you tried using art? Hyde’s are artists by nature.” Lenore cut in. Her suggestion earned a thoughtful hum from the Doctor.

“What about Marilyn Thornhill?” Wednesday asked.

“She still denies that she’s Tyler’s master. She’s being held in a different facility. I’m working off the theory that the longer they’re separated, the weaker their bond becomes.”

“Then I surmise you and I are speaking because you need my help.”

“My tradition care methods aren’t yielding results, so I think it’s time to be… unorthodox.”

“Well, you know what they say, if you can’t kill them with kindness, try lethal injection.” Wednesday bit out.

“This way,” she gestured for them to follow her down another hallway, deeper into the guts of the building-Lenore’s stomach twisted; Fairburn glanced over to the werewolf.

—–

As they descended deeper into the belly of the beast, panic clawed in Lenore’s chest, burning at her throat as her footsteps echoed hollowly around her; she walked down the shallow steps towards the far wall. A vault-like door fitted with glowing lights stood menacingly before them.

Her trainers squeaked against the floors, and her steps faltered as she drew closer-it felt like the walls were closing in on her.

“You could be the psychological shock Tyler needs to initiate his rehabilitation.” Doctor Fairburn said; Wednesday opened her mouth to reply, but Lenore spoke up first.

“There is no rehabilitation for him.” Her words came out like a fact, not an opinion. “Why do you figure?” Fairburn questioned.

“He corrupted his soul beyond measure; there’s no going back from that. When he realises what his cards are, he’ll escape, and God help us when he does.” Lenore said calmly, while her words were anything but.

“You think he’ll escape, why?”

“Call it my sixth sense. It’s never been wrong before.” Lenore sighed out. Doctor Fairburn’s expression faltered into something thoughtfully solemn.

Silence hung heavily in the air, strung tight on a wire; Fairburn’s calculatedly calm demeanour soured slightly, and she looked up to Lenore-really looked at her, through her even. Wednesday waited by the door. Doctor Fairburn cleared her throat, then typed in the password-the lights flashed green, and the door slowly opened.

Lenore’s claws twitched out, and she shoved her hands in her pockets-she could feel her composure fraying-it wasn’t from fear, something much more predatory. Protective, even. She looked down at Wednesday, expression softening.

“Now, you’ll be perfectly safe, but if you feel threatened or uncomfortable in any way, push the red button on the wall. I’ll be watching on the monitor.” Fairburn informed them, then she turned to the security guard, who sat before monitors, which showed the entire facility on screens.

“Keep a close watch, please.” She told him; he then typed the pin to the keypad beside the final door.

Wednesday stepped in first, slowly-calmly and Lenore loomed behind her, towering over, then with a rumble which shook the room, the door snapped shut behind them.

Tyler stood silently against the back wall, he was shirtless, his muscles glistened with sweat like he looked like he hadn’t showered in a while; his mousy brown curls were slicked against his head with greasy, hanging down by his eyes. His head hung down, and his hands were chained over his head.

He slowly looked up, his eyes settled on Wednesday, ignoring Lenore, who leaned against the back wall, watching every twitch of his body. He smiled slowly, something predatory glinted in his eyes.

“So, what do you think of the place?” He asked. His voice was gravelly from lack of use. He pulled his arms down, metal clanking as she slowly walked toward. “It was originally designed for a schizophrenic werewolf, who went on a full moon killing spree in the summer of 92′.”

Lenore’s teeth sunk into her cheek deeply as anger simmered in her chest.

“Ironic, considering you were thrashed by a werewolf.” Wednesday commented. “It was inevitable your morbid curiosity would bring you here. I knew you couldn’t resist seeing me again.” Tyler said.

“Is that the deluded lie you’ve been telling yourself in solitude?” Wednesday jeered.

“The only person lying to themselves is you, Wednesday.” Tyler snapped. “You sense the monster in me. You fell in love with it.” He taunted.

Before Wednesday could make a cutting remark or Tyler could continue his deluded speech-an amused, wry laughter echoed from the walls; it came from Lenore, who had her signature crooked grin strung tauntingly across her lips.

Tyler’s gaze flickered to focus on Lenore, who drew nearer-her movements were unpredictable, she walked slowly, then rushed forward, sending a flinch through the Hyde.

As she settled before him, more of the wolf about her showed, from her darkened gaze, lengthened teeth, and sharpened claws.

Lenore gently pushed Wednesday back, leading her behind herself; her pulse danced in her neck while she stayed watchfully still. Tylers rage felt like a flame, it licked through the glass-she could feel it and warmed herself on it; her head was tilted, and her eyes darted to watch his every move; he didn’t look at him like he was a person, simply a caged animal.

“You must be lonely,” she said, something akin to, though much more than warmth showed in her voice. “I mean, believing that Wednesday could love something like you. You’re the kind of person only a mother could love, and well, yours can’t, can she? She would be so disappointed, Tyler. She fought her nature, didn’t just give in, but you, oh you, revel in it. The last person who loved you, you broke, disappointed, and now-because of you, your dad’s dead. There’s no one left to miss you. And you won’t even be a foot note.” Lenore’s voice sung with a casual cruelty.

Tyler’s glare could’ve curdled milk, his eyes reddened, capillaries burst as his eyes bulged grossly, and his bones crackled, back hunching. Lenore watched calmly, her expression was utterly blank. A buzz cut through the air, a shock ripped through his neck, and he turned back. His chest heaved, rage smouldering in his eyes, like a spark into a forest fire.

“When I get of here, I will kill you!” He screamed out, it echoed from the walls; his spit showered the glass between them.

“Make it a full moon. That way, it’s fair.” Lenore shrugged.

“A full moon won’t save you.” He growled out. She stepped close enough for her breath to funnel through the ventilation holes in the glass. “Enid’s a harmless girl, not a malicious bone in her body. When the full moon comes, and I come for you in the dark, pray to whatever you believe in that it’ll be fast.” She warned in a ghostly whisper-Tyler swallowed harshly. Lenore stepped away from the glass.

Wednesday looked up at her, features darkened, like she was laying eyes upon a different woman, like she had seen something new in her-Lenore saw it, and she knew it wasn’t a good thing Wednesday had seen it. “We should go. He isn’t going to tell us anything. He’ll find much more satisfaction in watching you grope around in the dark.” Lenore said.

Wednesday followed behind her as she neared the locked door.

“What did you say?” She asked.