Chapter 11

Lenore lay there, on the cold, unfeeling metal, naked bar a blanket laid on her, bloody, and utterly exhausted form. Her entire body felt alive, buzzing with pain—aches pulling at every muscle when she moved, chest groaning as she breathed. As she laid, sprawled out, she didn’t wish to move, but as morning light shined over her, warmth tingling against her skin—she knew she must.

Her eyes fluttered open, and she immediately closed them—tears seeped from between her eyelids. Her head pounded, like something wrapped around her brain, and squeezed. She hesitantly opened her eyes once more and looked around; she noticed the bloody, dented cage, and knew something must’ve caught her attention last night. She wouldn’t have done that otherwise.

Her limbs felt like failing her, they didn’t thankfully, and through aches of pain, strain, and scarcely healed breaks, she raised to her feet. She stumbled and caught herself on the wall. She brushed her fingers lightly against the bloody cage, and her forehead tingled with a memory buried. She traced the tingling line on her forehead, and found a thin, hardly tactile scar—it wasn’t visible unless you were looking for it.

Lenore pulled on the clothes in her duffle bag; it was only simple, a baggy shirt, shorts, and a maroon, oversized hoodie she wore every time she transformed. It was threadbare on the sleeves, from where she had picked it. She tucked her hands in the wide kangaroo pocket.

She waited, leaning against the wall, and as time passed, she grew more restless, and curious; the forest was quiet, and her fellow wolves hadn’t made much sound, either.

What happened last night?

She peered into the forest; it had faint streams of warm light laying on the forest floor, they had crept through the canopy. She couldn’t shake the uncanny feeling something wasn’t right. More than usual after the full moon.

Her ears twitched, hearing footsteps against the forest floor; her eyes darted, attempting to find the source of the footsteps—nothing. Her lips pursed. Then, out of the forest came a coil of curls; they shined golden in the morning sunlight, softening the features of Ms Capri.

She didn’t falter in her steps, but didn’t greet Lenore, either, and her usual lightness wasn’t to be seen, instead replaced with a smouldering curiosity. She stopped inches from the cage. Her eyes darted to the dent.

“Lenore,” she greeted. “Are you alright?”

Lenore didn’t respond. She looked at the cage’s lock.

Miss Capri didn’t speak and quickly unlocked the cage.

Lenore rushed away from the cage, like it burned her. An ache slipped around her thighs, squeezing, and she struggled to walk, simply limping weakly. She was noticeably unsteady on her feet. She hunched slightly, trying to ignore the seering pain in her ribs; her breathing came shallowly.

They walked down the pathway, light filtered through, onto the floor, shadows of leaves laid on the dirt path. She almost tripped over a rock. Ms Capri looked over her shoulder, a flicker of concern on her face, she didn’t speak, though.

Lenore sunk into her hoodie, pulling the drawstring tight to hide her face. She scratched wildly at her hands in her pocket; they stung, but hurt less than her aching, and the fog playing about her mind. She strained to remember what happened last night.

Minutes later, they stepped out of the forest, and found the campsite empty, utterly quiet, only the call of wind that rushed through the trees, and pickened her cheeks made noise. It was ruined. Tents laid everywhere, along with scraps of wood, pieces of police tape.

She looked at Miss Capri for an answer.

“A zombie escaped, something Pugsley had kept secret, it killed the Cadet leader; then tried to kill Mr Addams.” She said. “Everyone left, we came to get the other students, but you wouldn’t wake up. I came to get you after.”

Lenore flushed brightly; someone must’ve laid that blanket on her, and she wasn’t sure she wanted to know who. “I checked on you.” Ms Capri clarified, and Lenore burned brighter. She nodded stiffly.

Miss Capri lead her over, towards a car, which was a sleek, white DS Citreon; it was a perfect mix between sporty, and vintage. She sat down in the car, and opened Lenore’s door. She slid down into it, wincing, and tensing as she did.

“Are you okay?” Ms Capri asked as she pulled out.

Lenore nodded.

She closed her eyes, and leaned back against the seat; she pulled her wrist up, and chewed on her sleeve. She pulled on it with her teeth until it was threadbare. Her teeth ripped through it audibly. She flinched when she felt a hand wrap around her wrist.

“You’re going to ruin your hoodie.” She said.

Lenore dropped it.

“Do you have any painkillers at home?”

She nodded.

“You should take them when you get home. You’re clearly in pain.” She brushed her thumb along Lenore’s hand when it rested in her lap. “Are you usually in pain after a transformation?”

She nodded again.

Ms Capri pressed her lips together, and an overt concern drew across her face. “That isn’t normal, you know, maybe some stiffness, but not pain.”

Lenore shrugged.

“Why won’t you speak?”

“It hurts.” A pain flared in her throat. It was like a rough grit sandpaper dragged down her flesh. It sounded unpleasant, raspy, rough, and dry.

Miss Capri intertwined their fingers, and spoke no more.

—

Lenore opened her rooms door; she swallowed harshly, and the floors creaked beneath her. She tossed a glance over to Lorelai, who froze upon seeing her, like she was being caught doing something she wasn’t supposed to. She paid her no mind.

She dug through her draws, and found painkillers; she laid two on the desk. She flicked open her bottles lid. She chucked the tablets back, and drunk her water, soothing her throat, and washing down the medication.

She heard the door close behind her. She sighed. She pulled her hoodie over her head, along with her shirt, and her muscles ached; she changed into something more appropriate for school. It was a baggy shirt, a loose tie, a oversized pair of trousers which were adorned with a silver chain. She pulled on a black jacket, and coloured herself with jewelry.

Upon leaving her dorm, and walking through the school, along the hallways, down the stairs, she heard rumours whispered between students; thankfully, they weren’t about her, instead they were about yesterday. Unsurprisingly, the story had already been twisted into something untrue.

She moved quickly through school, brushing past students, and pulling upon the creaking, heavy door, down to the library. The stairs whined. She came into the quiet, dusty room. It had few people around, the librarian, students, and as she turned the corner, into her usual seat, she found Morticia, mulling over a gothic horror book.

“Morning,” Lenore greeted as she sat opposite her; Morticia flinched. She had a certain tiredness hung on her features. “I heard what happened. I hope your husband is okay.”

“He’s fine. Wednesday trapped that monster.”

“Of course she did.”

Morticia looked up at her. “She saved me.” She muttered breathlessly.

“What happened?” Lenore’s features darkened with concern.

Morticia explained the entire situation, between the sparring match, the deal they made, and Slurp getting pinned to a tree.

“That’s certainly a family tradition.” She said.

“Do think I did the right thing?” Morticia asked.

“Yeah. She doesn’t see it yet, and honestly, I doubt she ever will.” Lenore asked. She noticed the somber expression on Morticia’s face, “say, do you play chess?” She decided to distract her.

“Yes, I do.”

Lenore opened the chess board left on the table, and began to set it up. “Play me?”

“Sure,” she responded.

“Black or white?” Lenore asked.

“Black.”

Lenore set up the board; she felt amusement at the competitive spark in Morticia’s eyes. Once they started, Lenore immediately began with the King’s Gambit; she moved two pawns forward, opening the way for her queen to move forward. She met Lenore with an offense, and took one of her pawns in response.

She brought her knight forward.

“Where did you learn to play?” Morticia asked.

“My grandmother. She’s tough.”

It moved quickly, a game of give, and take, but it quickly grew tense as Lenore showed an unusual patience; the allowance of her pieces to get taken grew worrying. It seemed like she was waiting, moving her pieces further forward into Morticia’s area of the board.

She felt Morticia’s heartrate speed up.

“Careful there, don’t slip.” Lenore teased.

“You should play, Wednesday. Perhaps you could beat her.”

Lenore only smiled. “I already have.” She said. “Check.”

Morticia moved her King forward.

Lenore’s smiled grew unsettling, something deeply predatory.

“You’re off-putting at times, you know that?”

“Mm, I have heard.”

“Has Wednesday told you her grandmothers in town?” Morticia asked.

Lenore shook her head. “I haven’t talked to her today.” She said. “I assume your relationship isn’t great.”

Morticia’s expression hardened, “how did you know?”

Lenore took her opponents queen, again, after her pawn had gotten to the edge of the board. She looked up at her. “I can smell your anxiety.” She closed her eyes and breathed in deeply. “It’s practically thick enough to see.”

“Can I tell you something? That you can’t tell her.”

“Yeah, I’m good at keeping secrets.”

“My mother…” she started.

“You think she’s trying to poison your daughter against you?” Lenore guessed.

“Are you sure you aren’t psychic?”

“Body language, heartrate, emotions; they all clue me in.” She replied. “Playing dumb helps, too.”

Lenore took her focus off the game. “Honestly, Wednesday’s smart, but her ego, and inability to admit her wrongs makes her stupid.”

“You’re honest. I appreciate that.”

“You need to talk. I’ll listen.” She said.

They played. The game finished with a clean victory from Lenore, and they shook hands, before Morticia offered her a goodbye, thanks, and left.

Lenore’s aches had softened to null. She stepped over muddy ground, leaves crackled beneath her feet, and sticks cracked. She breathed out contently as the warmth of early afternoon light shined onto her face. Her fingers grazed over tree bark.

The light chirping of birds filtered through the cool autumn air; they rustled the branches, and flew overhead, pigeons, crows, sparrows, magpies, some bounced from branch to branch, and others watched from above her.

She took out her sketchbook, scratched, leatherbound, with feathered pages; she pulled out the pencil which was tucked within the book. Soft passages of light brightened the pages in loops and lines, broken up my the shadows of leaves, and branches.

The pencil scratched faintly against the yellowed pages. She formed rough shapes, which she sketched over multiple times; it quickly shaped into a magpie, the tail feathers, body, wings, head, beak. She ran her finger along the looping lines.

Her model stared at her for a moment… then with a tussle of wings, it flew off, leaving a white, and irredescent blue feather falling through the air. She stepped forward. It landed on her outreached hand. She tucked it within her book, and closed it with a thump.

She looked across, beyond the bushes and overhanging branches, upon hearing footsteps, and a sigh; she could feel the familiar tingle of life. Goosebumps raised on her skin. She closed her eyes. A heart thumped surely in the distance, and she began to follow the faint thud.

She grew closer, ducking under branches, over collapsed trees, around bushes, and over wildly grown plants. She could the rushing of blood through their veins. She stepped out from between the trees.

Kneeled on the ground, in muddy dungarees, was a familiar woman; she had mousy brown hair, which fell down her back. She was turned away from Lenore. She struggled to turn the handle of a rusted, old metal tap which came out of the ground.

“Come on,” she said. “Just turn!”

“Need some help?”

She flinched. She turned around, with a hand pressed to her chest.

“You scared me. What are you doing walking out of the forest?” She asked.

“My apologies.”

“You could be a serial killer for all I know; people have being getting attacked around here.”

“Last I checked, I’m not a flock of birds. You should’ve been here during the Hyde panic last year, being out in the forest then wouldn’t have been a good idea.” Lenore replied.

“Oh, you’re a local?”

“Sort of. I go to Nevermore.”

A flicker of recognition lightened her features. “I teach there. I started this year.”

“Mm, you’re my botany teacher.”

“Oh, I’m sorry. I should have recognised you…” she flushed.

“You’re new. Don’t worry about it.” Lenore shrugged.

She looked at Lenore silently. Her lips were pursed. Silence hung between them. “What were you doing in the forest?”

“Thought I would go on a walk. I heard a heartbeat, figured I would follow it.” She said.

The woman blinked. “You heard my heartbeat?”

Lenore nodded. “Yeah, I was a mile or so away, so it was faint.”

Her eyes widened, “you can hear that?”

“Werewolf thing.” She responded.

“Oh, you’re a werewolf?”

“Yeah. Yourself?”

“Oh, I’m a plant witch.”

“Are all plant witches that weak?”

She furrowed her brows at Lenore. “What do you mean?”

“You seem to be struggling with that.” She said. “I’m only messing with you.” Lenore stepped forward.

She crouched down by the woman, and wrapped her hand around the flaky grey and orange handle. With ease, she twisted it, and water began to pour out. “It’s rusted over. I’m not surprised you struggled to turn it.”

“Thanks…” she trailed off. She was looking for Lenore’s name.

“Lenore. You?”

“Hailey Parker.”

Lenore stood up. She stepped back.

Ms Parker shifted the two watering cans beneath the water flow; they filled up, and as she turned the water off, water sloshed over the side. She tried to pick one up, and failed miserably.

“Are you going to magic them back to the greenhouse?”

Miss Parker glared at her. Her lips twitched with a smile.

“Would you help me, Lenore?”

“Yeah.”

She reached down, and with ease, picked up the bigger watering can; it hung down by her thigh.

“You know, I might have to make you my TA.” She said as they walked along the path.

“You would have to fight Ms Capri for that. Though, she might happily pass me along to someone else.” Lenore laughed faintly.

“You’re already taken?”

“Afraid so, Miss.”

“Don’t call me, Miss. It makes me feel so old.” She shuddered.

Lenore laughed.

—

Lenore found their conversation quite fond, especially when they got onto the conversation of houseplants, which she had a small jungle of in her window. They walked through grounds, and grew nearer to the greenhouse, leaving the forest behind them. She felt a certain lightness in her bones.

“So, you knew the last botany teacher?”

“That I did. I gave her a cutting of my Bird of Paradise; she bloody wilted it. I’m pretty sure she did it purely out of spite.” Lenore said.

“That’s awful.” Hailey said. “At least I don’t have a legacy to live up to.”

“Yeah. I think you’ll fit in just fine.”

Lenore’s focus wavered. She caught a familiar scent caught in the air. Hailey’s voice faded away. A halo of curls captured her attention.

“Lenore.” Ms Capri said.

“Hey,” she paused, and stood there awkwardly.

“Are you doing better?”

“Yeah. I took some painkillers.”

“Not chewing on your sleeves anymore, either, I see.” She smiled.

“I wouldn’t that to this jacket. It’s far too nice.”

Miss Capri smile fell slightly, like she was thinking about something.

“You’re Ms Capri?” Hailey asked.

“Yes, and you are?” She looked between them questioningly.

“The new botany teacher. Hailey Parker.” She said, “I’ve stolen your TA for a bit; I hope you don’t mind.”

“As long as you give her back; she’s mine, after all.”

Ms Parker laughed lightly, they offered each other goodbyes, split up; Lenore and her walked into the greenhouse, while Miss Capri walked further into the school grounds. Lenore could feel a stare bristling the hair on her neck. It seered at her skin.

Lenore dropped the watering can on the table, and her phone buzzed in her pocket; it was only her friends. She slipped it back into her trousers. She looked over her shoulder, where Miss Parker watered her plants; she seemed enveloped in her own world.

“Will you be okay with this?” She knocked her knuckles against the metal.

“Yeah. I’ll manage. I just couldn’t carry it all the way back.” She answered. “Thank you for all your help, Lenore. If you don’t mind, could you come back tomorrow, I need to repot some plants, and I haven’t gotten a TA yet.”

“It’s no problem. I’ll come around after my lessons finish.”

Ms Parker smiled at her, which pinched at her eyes, and scrunched her nose.

Lenore neared the door.

“Do take some pictures of your plants. I would love to see them.” She said.

Lenore nodded. She stepped outside. The door closed behind her.