His Pigtailed Crucible of Fate

Wednesday's Child Is Full of Woe (Part Two)

Their botany professor spent the first few minutes of class wrestling with a man-sized Venus flytrap after its muzzle had mistakenly fallen off, and the next ten he spent explaining the importance of safety-wear when handling carnivorous plants.

Wednesday's gaze drifted around the spacious greenhouse in which they sat, with desks and chairs arranged as in a regular classroom. The glass structure was domed at the roof, and incredibly humid, given all of the moisture required to keep its many exotic plants from wilting.

She glanced over at Enid, who had insisted on sitting next to her. She held a sparkled blue pen and appeared to be experimenting with different handwriting styles. Wednesday recalled going through a calligraphy phase when she was younger — she'd found enjoyment in decoratively drafting her own death certificate.

"—And of course, there is further granularity within the genus," the professor's deep British voice reverberated through the space, "when one discerns between actively animate species and the passively animate."

He wore an olive green tweed jacket, and an earth-toned ascot around his neck. His face was rugged and tanned, and upon his nose rested a pair of pince-nez glasses, with their suspension chain dangling off his lapel. Wednesday imagined he was the type to keep a hunting rifle mounted in his living room.

"Now, just as last week," he continued, "it is my desire that you be able to identify these by smell alone, so now partner up with the student beside you and decide who is to wear the blindfold first."

Wednesday didn't find herself entirely uninterested in the direction the class was taking.

The professor did the rounds handing out sample kits and lengths of thick fabric to the class. Enid hurriedly ushered him over as he reached their table.

"Professor Ludlow! Did you notice our new student?" she beamed, "this is Wednesday Addams."

He shot a startled look at Wednesday, as though she'd just appeared out of thin air.

"Ah!— dear, yes, you are a new face aren't you? My apologies for not having taken note of you earlier," he said. "Wednesday— indeed, is it?"

"Correct," Wednesday said stonily. "I'd like to wear the blindfold first."

"Oh— of course, my dear," he blustered, handing over the materials. "In any case, it is good to have nice and even class numbers once again — Enid, it seems you won't need to share a partner this week."

Enid shuffled in her seat excitedly.

Wednesday glanced around at the other students as they all partnered up. She began to notice some of their more discerning features for the first time. Some had fur sprouting from their hands and necks, and appeared to experience great difficulty sitting still in any way — reminding Wednesday of somebody... Though, unlike Enid, they appeared to be further onto the werewolf side of their metamorphosis — she looked entirely normal by comparison, with the exception of her sickening preference for bright colors.

A pair of mysterious looking girls sat partnered together, one with flowing, long hair, and the other without a hair on her head. In common however, was their skin, which appeared to transition into luminescent scales on certain parts of their bodies, the same as would be found on an exotic sea creature. Their eyes also struck her — the pupils shone an intoxicating silver.

A few from the hat-wearing clan were also present, and Wednesday had figured out by now what they were hiding underneath their ridiculous overgarments — a head of snakes. They were Gorgons — the same stone inducing creatures as the mythical character Medusa.

'So,' Wednesday counted in her head, 'we have a cyclops registrar lady, werewolves, Gorgons, vampires,' — she'd realized this of the pale, sunshade-wearing crowd after having dispelled her erroneous assumption that the red drink they'd been carrying around and sipping on had been cranberry juice.