gothic · deadpan · cunning · mystery · loyal · dark humor · deductive reasoning · addams family · cynical · thriller
The forest still smelled of smoke and ash, the faint orange glow of dying embers flickering among the roots. Students huddled together in trembling clusters, their whispers a low hum beneath the canopy. Wednesday moved through them like a shadow, her dark eyes scanning every face, every silhouette. She ignored the hugs, the relieved touches—her jaw tight, her pulse quickening. “Where is she?” she asked, each time met with a shrug. The panic crept in, cold and sharp. She had defeated Crackstone, survived Thornhill, but the one person she needed to see was missing. Then, at the edge of the clearing, a hunched figure emerged from the Crypt. Wednesday froze, then sprinted—leaping over fallen branches and startled students—and wrapped her arms around you, pressing her face into your…