Some people have nightmares about being ghosts in their own homes. Hence, it would seem rather inhuman if someone could have a blissful dream about being a varmint in their own school...or a school, otherwise, that'd never try to recruit them.
This is Addams Manor. Its architecture is Gothic. Needless to say, it could use a few upgrades. It may never get them.
Inside, the hallways run long and deep. Each door has marks etched into it. Some of them have been blackened...and this isn't because the door wood is ebony. In fact, the door woods are often either walnut or elm.
In one room, a few wights dwell...or rather, they levitate. They all wear black, grey, or navy-blue cloaks; a few wear burgundy or deep purple ones. They fly in circular motions around the room...in a way that makes them collectively resemble a whirlwind. Two halves of them alternate, flying in opposite directions.
In another, a werecat scratches the furniture. He often ascends a great pillar in the midst of the room...and scratches it, each time there's a full moon. When there's no full moon, he's a simple human. Simple...yet catty.
In the dungeons, there are stepped pools. In one of them, a vodyanoy takes a swim. A vodyanoy is a human-frog hybrid that's the size of a great strong Slavic man. They're abductors by nature; some are also enslavers. This one, though, is just a simple Addams...although he might've been born with the name Addamski...if he had a surname at all.
Many who live here are vamps/vampires. By morning, they hang upside down from the ceilings of their own rooms, and sleep. Many can also shapeshift into bloodsucking vermin.
Another one of these dungeons is a labyrinth. In it, a troll takes a long walk. He's giant, bald, and stone-like. He gripes, whenever the ways he takes dead-end.
In a room farther upstairs, a tiyanak rolls around in a crib. A tiyanak looks like an infant...or the roots of a mandrake. The crib is full of potting soil...and weeds. Many of his bodily tissues are wood-like; at times, he's mistaken for a huge yam. His room is also soundproof. It must be; his screams have been known to shatter even non-glass materials.
In the entrance hall, a skeleton sits. His skin, his other tissues, and all of his organs are transparent. Various toxins, his body generates. He's often here to greet guests. They seldom give him a second look before running out the door in terror.
In pantries downstairs, a strigoi dwells. He's a wizard, and a farm-raider. He's a breadwinner of the family...or rather, he's a bread-thief. He can slaughter livestock without knives or drugs. He can also control droughts (dry spells) and hail (precipitation). Either way, he helps keep the family fed. This is good; the Addamses are no occasional breeders of monstrous appetites.
In an upstairs room, a Slovene white lady hovers and sleeps. Her signature scythe leans against a nearby wall. She's not like most white ladies; she's most active during midday. In her time, she's been accused, many times, of being a male farmer's hallucination.
In an upstairs room, a Slavic witch dwells. She's often on her own. She's often sitting at a dresser with a mirror and beautifying herself. Alas, she's just as much into Gothic makeup and fashion as the rest of her relatives would be, if they were all female. For the most part, though, there's nothing wrong with this. She looks fine; she often does. If only, though, she could stop compulsively grinding things inside that little mortar of hers...
In a room near the roof, Shawnee mothfolk dwell. They're moth-human hybrids who're the size of moths. Most of their human halves are Shawnee...or white West Virginian, otherwise. Up here, they've got all the textiles they can eat. If only their bigger relatives would stop using lanterns or flashlights to play pranks on them...
In a downstairs room, shadowfolk dwell. They're human-shadow hybrids. Some of them can become giants, if given enough space; nighttime has been known to do this for them. Alas, if only the local street lighting used lower-wattage bulbs more often... One of them has a head that looks like a colt's skull. They share communion with the wights.
In an upstairs room, a sertão vamp dwells. The sertão, in case you might wonder, is an area of the Northeast Brazil States where it rains much less often than it does in the rest of the federation. Hence, this guy speaks Portuguese. For now, though, he merely hangs upside-down and takes a nap.
In another dungeon, in a huge tank of water, a Scottish highlander lake monster dwells. He shares his tank with shoals of trout. He often sleeps like a log...or otherwise poses as one. He's very good, it seems, at mimicking a fallen elm tree.
In an upstairs room, some revenants take a very long communal nap. They're semi-dead humans who've been possessed by ghosts. They all have long and stiff raven hair. They're better off napping; they can be quite vindictive by day.
Near the roof, a reptilian humanoid sunbathes. He's a reptile-human hybrid that's human-size...if not slightly bigger. His reptile parts are akin to those of a Middle Jurassic ornithopod's.
In a room downstairs, a preta (i.e. a Hindi hunger ghost) dwells. He's clad in fabric...which is torn and streaming at its base/tail. He has two hands with very long fingers; some of them have been amputated. He often longs for something; often to the point of insanity. Better thing, then, that this nap of his lasts a very long time...
In another room, a Potawatomi weredog paces around in circles. During the full moon, he gets moody, and assumes the shape of a boxer. Most times, though, he's just a Potawatomi human; smokes like one, too.
In another dungeon, an ōmukade dwells. He's a mega-centipede. He, too, has a giant pillar to crawl around. He'd settle better if it were a mountain. He also wouldn't mind if that mountain were a volcano.
In another dungeon, in a huge tank of cool water, a ningen dwells. He's huge, blue-grey, and aquatic. He's got a very long and large tusk; a ramming weapon, it's been known to be.
In a downstairs room, a nelapši often naps. She's a feral, semi-dead human with claws and teeth. She's better off asleep; she can, and has, become very temperamental, while awake.
In another room, a mummy takes a long nap within his sarcophagus. Once, he was a Coptic boy who belonged to a royal family in Northeast Africa. Now, he's got integrity issues; ones which the cocoon of long and narrow strips of thread makes a full-time job out of resolving...more or less. He often shares his bed with a few scarabs. A black pharaoh hound attends to his security-related needs.
In a cellar, a few Mongolian death-worms dwell. They've beaks, and they've voracious appetites. Impressive tunnelers, they are too. Despite this, they're still very much at home among the Addamses; they are Addamses.
Many who live here are magi. The strigoi and the Slavic witch, too, are magi...and they're not alone. They often wear dark-colored robes and can conjure their elm/walnut wands just by casting a spell. The family library is stocked with grimoires; spellbooks.
In another dungeon, in another huge tank of water, a kraken basks. Down here, he has much space to sprawl out his many tentacles. If only there were more longships, though, with which he could wrestle...
In another dungeon, a hydra dwells. Its many heads are often at ease. They should be; hydras, as one might know, have some of the most impressive regeneration known to inhumanity. They get plenty to eat, too. Down here, they're very safe from Herakles. For them, becoming Addamses couldn't have been a better choice.
In the hallways, hidebehinds dwell. They often rest within the doorways, stretching themselves to become compatible with the doorways' shape. They share communion with the wights and shadowfolk.
In another room, a few grey aliens dwell. They've huge heads and black eyes...and, of course, grey skin. They share communion with the wights, shadowfolk, and hidebehinds...as well as with some of the scarabs that like to bunk with the mummy.
In the back garden, a golem dwells. He prefers his meals kosher. He's often on-watch. He seems like a superfluous addition to the home security system; this home is already among the scariest sights in town...as well as the state.
In another room upstairs, a few ghosts dwell. They hover over the floor; some hover near the ceiling. They give the shaft of light coming through the very small window a berth. They share communion with the revenants, as well as with the ghosts that possess the nelapši and the mummy.
In a downstairs room, a dusk witch has mounted the front of a human-size doll, as it lies on its back across a bed. The dusk witch's hair is long and raven. She closes her eyes, and plagues her own vision with nightmares; she'd do this to a human, if only this life-size doll was an actual human. She'd...also do this while having a one-night stand with a male human... But for now, that part will have to wait. She shares communion with the wights, shadowfolk, hidebehinds, and grey aliens.
In the lofts of the stables, a dullahan takes a nap in the hay. Most times, he appears headless. He can, however, start a fire within the space where his head would otherwise be, and shape that fire into a skull. At present, though, he'd hate to burn the stable down. He loves these horses too much.
In another cellar, a cyclops giant sits and mopes. His sole eye is often at-rest.
In the cemetery, a church grim basks near a headstone. He looks like a small black dog with lit eyes and pointy ears. As he basks, he gnaws on a huge bone; it once belonged to a now-late ningen Addams. Their tombstone, it just so turns out, is whose against which he now basks. Unclear, though, as to whether that's where he got the bone from; he doesn't seem to have left any digging holes nearby... Then again, the Addamses of these generations seem to be a lot better at cleaning up after themselves than one would expect them to be... This is especially true, in fact, pertaining to the Addams hidebehinds...
In another room, a Chewa demonic beast rests on a large rug. He's a hyeanine, and looks like an aardwolf. A Mohawk-like mane runs from the top of his head and gets stubbier as it stops right before his rear back becomes his tail.
Elsewhere in the back gardens, a cactusfellow does what he can to soak up the local moisture. Where that is, he's a lot more blessed here than he'd be farther Southwest. Long root-like tentacles radiate from his back. Aside from that, he's a human-cactus hybrid. He can become a giant, if he gets enough water. He'd have to drink it extremely slowly, though...
In another cellar, a bulgasari dwells. He's got buffalo, bear, elephant, tiger, and rhino appendages. Very large tusks, he sports. A short flexible nose, he also sports. He's been known to act as a mount for the cyclops. At present, though, he longs for whatever meat his fellow Addamses bring him.
In an upstairs room, in one of the best-furnished rooms in the resort, a Belarusian lich keeps his many soul-artifacts organized. Each soul-artifact contains an nth of his soul. Most of his soul-artifacts are very old and come from exotic locations. Less than half of them have been looted.
In another dungeon, in a different kind of tank of water, a beholder dwells. This tank of water is more akin to an aquarium than a pool. Within it, what looks like a huge human head with tentacles dwells. He's telepathic and telekinetic. His eyes are often at-rest.
In a hive in the back garden, a swarm of beefolk dwell. They're human-bee hybrids that're the size of bees. The males are hookers, and the females are workaholics. Their queen is a bombshell...and among the smallest of the "men of the house."
In another dungeon, a basilisk dwells. He is, without dispute, an elder of the family. His gaze and venom are both very potent. At present, though, he naps. He sleeps among stone sculpture. Many wouldn't believe that he sculpted a lot of these himself...or that all he had to do was look at something...
In another dungeon, an Arabic behemoth dwells. He's got a pocket world within him...and is a doorman, of sorts, to this world. It's not a bad place, if the Addamses would daresay so themselves... Many have, in fact... Hospitable though it is, though, most of them must confess, at the end of the day, that there's no place so hospitable that it makes them forget about their lives here, at Addams Manor...
Amusing, and often overwhelming, this family's roster often is. This has also been known to be its limit, while the cities' public schools are in-session. Alas, different kids have varying ambitions about schools. And it just so happens that there's a girl who's been known to live under this roof who can't seem to stay in school...although many have tried to motivate her to do so.
One at a time, a summons is dropped through the mail slots within their door. Some of them have been summoned...to convene in the hemicycle in fifteen minutes. Most of them should be more thankful that at least it's not a jury summons from the city...or, even more likely, a court summons, because they're helpless and hopeless suspects in a homicide case...
The hemicycle's architecture is just as Gothic as anything else in Addams Hall. It's shaped like an upside-down dome that's stepped. As one might expect, all of the judges get to sit in high places, whereas the "defendant," or whoever they'd be during such an assembly, gets to humble themselves in the lowest place in the room. And this time, that couldn't be any less necessary; not only is the defendant very short and thin, but she's also very feminine. Or rather, she's feminine to an extent. Better thing, though, that she never becomes the town's DA.
A wight or two comes. The werecat does, too. A pair of vamps comes. Via a hover-pot, the tiyanak comes. The skeleton comes. The strigoi comes. The Slovene white lady comes. A few mothfolk, both Shawnee and West Virginian, come. A pair of shadowfolk come. The sertão vamp comes. The highlander loch monster comes. A pair of revenants come. The reptilian humanoid comes. The preta comes. The ōmukade comes. The nelapši comes. Via his hover-throne, the mummy comes; he brings along his three-headed pharaoh hound. A pair of death-worms comes. A pair of magi comes. The kraken comes. A pair of grey aliens comes. A pair of ghosts comes. The dusk witch comes...and hovers aback a broomstick within the vaults, while in attendance. The church grim comes. Aback his levitating rug, the Chewa demonic beast comes. The cactusfellow comes. The Belarusian lich comes. Some of the beefolk come. The basilisk comes.
At long last, the list of judges and jurors is accounted for. The only person missing is the defendant. She's been summoned; that much is certain. But then, one can also probably rest assured that if the state has trouble getting her to go to school, a family of horror movie monsters probably couldn't do too much better.
Many times, the Addamses have sent Wednesday to school. Many times, the state has ordered them to do so. Just as many times, it has ended the same way; with Wednesday playing a horrific prank at her school that gets her expelled. Hence, by now, Wednesday has been expelled from countless schools. Hence, needless to say, the Addamses are running out of options. There is one other thing that they could try, though... And there's no need to vote on it; they already have. That's what the last family meeting was about. They're just here to execute phase one of the new plan. This meeting will be slightly different, though; in order for phase one to be applied appropriately, Wednesday must appear at this meeting. One way or another, though, the plan will be executed...even if they have to play a revenge-prank on her. And for most of them, this wouldn't be hard; most of them, if not all of them, are vindictive as a personal habit...if not by nature.
Many moments pass. It's starting to look like it'll be a no-show. The judges and jurors start talking amongst themselves, to decide whether or not to postpone the meeting...
Alas, from above, a door opens and closes; a few chains clink, as this happens. Next, the pitter-patter of girl's shoes echo throughout the hemicycle, as their wearer scurries downstairs to her...place of humility.
She passes many of her relatives, as she makes her way downstairs and across landings. She's not at all disturbed by their monstrous appearances. But then, she's had her entire life to get used to them; all thirteen years of it.
As often, she's in long braids. As often, she's in a black pleated skirt and black stockings. As often, her stony expression never yields; not even now. It won't even yield during what's about to happen. This is inhuman; anyone else would surely change their expression.
At long last, she assumes her place of humility in the middle of the room; at its lowest point. A pair of her beefellow relatives sting her, for being late. She barely flinches as this happens. She might not be a revenant, but she'd make a great one...or even a nelapši.
Silence follows. Before the masses of her relatives...both massive and not...little Wednesday stands. She doesn't sit, and she doesn't flinch. She seldom ever flinches.
She shrugs. "Well? What am I here for? I left a Chihuahua dog dying on a lab table just to be here. Now, does anyone want to talk, or do I have to?"
Now, the mothfolk are up. Before the meeting commenced, they made a deal with the beefolk; that they'd keep her distracted, while the beefolk forced her to take her medicine. They do this by fluttering everywhere, all around her. Soon, they've built a little dome around her. To her, they show off the iridescence of their wings. They'll never be as big or beautiful as butterflies...but that's not to say that they can't do a few things, at least, that a butterfly can...or a few lovely things that butterflies, despite their grace, cannot.
"I know what you're doing," she says. "You're trying to distract me. Now cut it out, and tell me why I'm..."
Her vanity soon bleeds through, as she falls for the mothfolk's trick. She becomes so distracted, that never once does she feel what the beefolk do to her. She'll be a legendarily good sport about it...and yet not entirely without objections.
This is a refined school. Here, the girl students wear pleated skirts. People pay big money, if not fortunes, for students to come here. Wednesday has never been enrolled here before...but she might as well have been...and hence, have been expelled already. She'd hate having to be a student here...chapels or none. The architecture isn't even right; the archways aren't pointed at the tops...
On campus, there's a choir hall. Music often comes from it. As ethereal as it is, one almost wouldn't believe that the choir is staffed by amateur singers...
Atop power lines, white turtledoves sit. They might as well be wearing clergy stoles... This might be a private school, but it's no religious affair. Besides, doves are merely symbols of peace. Humanity is still just as likely to go to war over their whitewashings as ever.
This is a clock tower. It's one of the campus's many sights. It's also just as new as it looks; hence, none of the students' grandparents would remember it...and hence, their ancestors wouldn't either. But then, it's a good thing that Wednesday isn't here to learn of this; she'd hate that news.
On one of the tower's ledges, what looks like a ring box sits. Someone must've left it in the night; it's more or less too obvious that it was left here recently... Or rather, it would be, if only it was more common for the students here to fly or hover...
The tiny case has got a nano-clock attached to it. Constantly, it ticks. It's not just a clock; it's a timer. With luck, it's not one for a bomb... It might as well be for a bomb, though, considering what it's going to unleash once its time is up...
Bell chimes later, and the ring case opens on its own. Clouds of steam and smoke belch from it, as it does.
Inside, Wednesday is in the nude. Unclear, as to why she'd have to be that way... And, it'd probably be better for everyone concerned if that was not elaborated on. The basic matter, though, is that she had to be kept contained until the timer ran out...and this process...whatever it is...is not only a repeat of one of Wednesday's memorably dangerous/sadistic experiments, but also, apparently, the best way to keep her constrained.
With her back facing outside, Wednesday dresses herself. Once again, she wears the black pleated skirt and stockings. Once again, she braids her pigtails.
One leap later, and she's out of the ring case. A moment will pass, before she learns of her latest predicament. A much longer moment will pass before she sees that she's been shuttled back to school. And this time, there'll be a new set of rules; many will be the life-or-death type.
Wednesday walks to the edge of the ledge, and nearly falls off. Now, the sights of her predicament begin to soak in. They're the same as they'd be otherwise...except they're a thousand times bigger...for the Addamses, it seems, have cast a spell that's made Wednesday a thousand times smaller...as if she wasn't already too small as things were.
In the Addamses' minds, this is the perfect compromise between needing her to be educated and her desire to never be so. They're sending her back to school...but as a pest that the humans at this school would normally swat away, if they saw her. If the state ever asks, the Addamses will tell them that she's a runaway. The heat will soon die, of course, as soon as the state police spend three months looking for her, and suddenly realize that there are easier-to-find runaways that they should be prioritizing. Plus, most of the state's cops would rather shoot themselves in the foot than have to handle Wednesday. She's cute, but she's impossible to please. Most of the cops don't share her humor, either...manly though they are.
Her relatives could've at least, Wednesday thinks, given her a way to get off the clock tower. She's never hated her family for being so inhumane...but this, she thinks, seems a bit more un-family-like than usual...
Her need to get off the tower, though, is soon resolved...as the clock begins to strike midmorning. The bongs create quakes, all up and down the tower's height, that cause Wednesday to tremble...and tumble right off the edge.
Down the height of the clock tower, she falls. To say that she's not terrified would be untrue; much though she revels in the macabre, she also hates having her sense of balance upset. And they don't come more balance-upsetting than freefalling to one's death. When Wednesday gets violently killed, however that might happen and with whatever bladed and barbed machinery they'd use, she'd rather have this happen while both of her feet are flat on the ground.
Below, a few shrubs grow; some flowers and ornamental grasses grow around them. The shrubs closest to the tower wall are Berberis bealei; a spiny-leafed barberry shrub native to China. The two most common English names for it are "leatherleaf mahonia" and "Beale's barberry." In the wild, they've been known to generate indigo berries. Locally, fathers of teenage daughters have been known to plant them right outside their daughters' bedroom windows, as a deliberate means of discouraging...certain visitors, which might or might not include their future sons-in-law.
She's saved...by a net of silk. It's a spider's web; it's been woven among some of the mahonia's limbs. She's been blessed; shaken though she is due to the fall, she hasn't contracted a single barberry thorn-slashing. Alas, she doesn't feel blessed; she would've loved to get sliced in two by one of those leaf-spines...
She need not fear the spider that wove this web, though. It turns out that she knows it; it's one of her pets. At her new size, though, it might as well be her steed...or a kaiju. This, she loves; she's always wanted to be in a kaiju movie. And the more the kaiju did to dismember her, the bigger thrills she'd have.
Across the campus, the spider balloons. He generates a line of silk from his abdomen. With it airborne, he hangs from it via his abdomen, and trails along. Spiders do this to travel a lot. It's risky, but at least they cover more ground than they would if they crawled and leapt everywhere.
From a silken tether, wee Wednesday hangs by her skirt. Below, she can see the campus pass by. The vertigo is too much for her... Whenever she gets to stand, though, she'll have fun. For once, she'll be treated like the pest that she longs to be...even if she ends up clashing with people who she'd wish she never had to meet.
For now, the spider hauls little Wednesday off to her first lesson. Wind and magnetism are their guides. With luck, then, the science class isn't experimenting with vortexes and magnets in the lab this morning...