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The next day, Leon sat on the roof again, half-listening to the school go about its business below — students bickering over something trivial, someone else laughing too loud.
None of it held his attention.
His eyes were fixed on Thornhill, who crossed the courtyard with an armful of folders and papers, a box of glass bottles clinking as she loaded it all into her car and drove off.
“She’d better succeed.” Leon watched until her car vanished from sight, then sat up, stretched, and stepped forward off the ledge of the roof.
WHOOSH!
BANG!
Leon landed in a crouch, the ground cracked slightly and he was already turning to leave when a voice stopped him.
“You should be more careful,” Wednesday’s voice came from behind him.
Leon turned to find her, her gaze flicking from the roof to him and back.
“Worried about me?
I’m honored.” Leon chuckled.
“I’m worried you’ll accidentally squash someone, dropping from that height.” She took a step closer.
“What did you do to Thornhill?”
“What do you mean?”
“Thing watched her prepare papers, videos, and photographs all night — like she was building a case against herself and Tyler.” Wednesday took another step closer.
“Did you do something to her?
Get a siren to — well, siren her?”
“Something like that.” Leon smiled.
“I told you I’d handle it.
You don’t have to worry.”
“I don’t tend to sit and wait for someone else to act,” Wednesday said.
“I’m usually the one scheming.”
“You don’t trust me?” Leon closed the last of the distance between them, close enough now to catch the scent of her shampoo — white lily, with a hint of carnation.
“After I saved you?”
“I didn’t need to be saved,” she said, not stepping back.
“So I got hurt for nothing?” Leon sighed.
“My back healed, sure.
But the pain lingered, you know.”
Wednesday’s eyes flicked to his shoulder, considering it, before returning to his face.
She found she had nothing to say — which was strange.
Normally she’d have shot back something like “not my problem”.
But the words wouldn’t come, as if some part of her were worried about—
“Hm.” She took another step closer.
“No way,” she muttered to herself, frowning.
“Him?”
“Hey — you okay?” Leon asked, reaching over to gently tip her chin up, lifting her face to his.
“I was just teasing—”
Wednesday cut him off before he could finish.
“This is only an experiment.
Don’t read into it.”
“Wha—” Leon didn’t get to finish.
Wednesday rose onto her tiptoes, closing the last few inches between them, and her lips met his — softer than he’d expected — before she pulled back just as suddenly.
“Hm.” She turned and walked off without another word, leaving him standing there, stunned.
‘What the hell just happened?’ Leon couldn’t believe what she’d just done.
They’d properly met at the diner, and every day since then she’d rolled her eyes and walked off the second he tried anything.
He turned it over and over in his head, still standing in the same spot.
***********
Wednesday sat in class, lost in thought.
The diner — that had been the first time he’d spoken to her directly.
She’d noticed how casual he was, how different he seemed from everyone else at Nevermore — and then those three idiots had walked in, and his speed had been too fast for her to follow.
That detail had stuck with her ever since, enough that she’d started sending Thing to watch him whenever she couldn’t do it herself.
Later, he’d agreed to help her get to the train station.
In the days after their deal, he kept joking with her, flirting, never once getting angry no matter how coldly she spoke to him or how sharply she insulted him — as if none of it bothered him at all.
Then, in the forest, when she’d been helpless, he’d come for her — taken Rowan down, thrown himself at that creature — and even outmatched and bleeding, he’d still pushed her behind him.
The memory of his torn, bloody back was still fresh in her mind.
Then came the mysteries — an entire plot that would have gotten multiple people killed, most likely her included.
And somehow, he’d known all of it, as if the whole thing had been within his grasp from the start, which made her interest burn brighter.
As she’d stepped closer to him earlier, she hadn’t let it show, but her heart had beaten a little faster than it should have — as if she were nervous.
‘No way,’ she’d thought at the time.
But he’d only gotten closer, close enough that she could smell his cologne, see the deep blue of his eyes fixed on hers, and with every breath her heartbeat had refused to behave—
‘That damn experiment,’ Wednesday thought bitterly.
When she’d first noticed the reaction, she’d written it off as something she’d eaten.
Then the thought had surfaced, unwelcome and impossible to unthink: ‘Is it him?’ It had bothered her enough to question herself — so, remembering something she’d once read, she’d decided to test it.
If nothing changed, it would prove he had nothing to do with it.
So she’d leaned in.
“Argh.” Wednesday grunted out loud without meaning to, catching the attention of her deskmate, Enid.
“You okay?” Enid asked.
“Did something happen?
You’ve been acting weird since you got to class — weirder than usual.”
“Nothing.
I’m fine,” Wednesday said, her mind still full of the memory of his lips, her heart still leaping the way it had the last time she’d strapped herself into the shock chair she kept at home.
Wednesday sat lost in thought for a long while, before her eyes landed on Enid, watching her joke with the girls sitting behind them. Find the original chapter at g.com.
‘Do I have to tell her?’
***********
Thornhill did not come to teach her class that morning, and once Principal Weems had everyone leave, Leon slipped out of Nevermore and headed to the Gates house, checking the back-door floorboard — but found nothing, which made him frown.
‘Is she not done yet?’
He made sure he was looking in the right spot by activating his X-ray Vision, but there was nothing there.
Frowning, he turned and started to leave, walking down the dirt road before stepping onto the street, his mind wandering, when something moved behind him.
“Wha—” Leon saw a large figure appear behind him, grab his head, and slam him into the ground.
The asphalt cracked open beneath him, his skull driving into it, before it dragged him — unstoppable, like the weight of the world pressing down on him — tearing a long line of broken asphalt, blood, and dirt across the road before he was thrown.
Leon was caught off guard.
He couldn’t keep up with what was happening to him, and all he could do was try to defend himself — but even with his strength, he could barely budge the hand before he found himself flying and slamming torso-first into a tree, spinning midair before he hit the ground with a gasp.
There was no time for confusion or questions.
Leon pushed himself off the ground, his bloody head already healing, just as he saw the Hyde rush him again.
Its claws didn’t stop.
Even as Leon tried to retreat, his speed was nothing compared to it — five holes punched clean through his stomach, blood dripping onto the ground as he was lifted to the creature’s face.
It roared, spittle landing on his skin, its razor teeth opening wide, about to close on his neck.
‘Fucker,’ Leon cursed, and his eyes burned crimson, as twin lasers seared into the creature’s open mouth.
Sizzling
Coughing sounds tore out of it as it dropped him and swung a backhand that caught him across the head, sending him flying, his body dragging along the ground before he forced himself to stop, the world blurred around him.
One thought kept echoing through his skull as he pushed himself up.
‘I’m going to die.’
Leon reached out — and grenades appeared in his hand.
He threw them mid-swing, his eyes flaring crimson again as his lasers cut through the air and struck two of them in flight.
BOOM!
BOOM!
The third grenade hit the ground and rolled, undetonated.
The blast caught him a few meters back, throwing him into the dirt.
His hair burned where the heat reached him, his ears rang, and his vision swam — but he was already moving, already running, using the momentum of the fall to launch himself toward the tree line.
He used the woods as cover, his body weak, his vision unsteady, but he pushed through anyway.
He could feel his burned skin healing, slower than usual, as he ran without stopping, his figure blurring between the trees, senses stretched to their limit, listening for anything behind him.
All he heard was his own footsteps.
***********
At night, a bloody figure pushed open a large circular window and stumbled in, collapsing in the middle of the room.
“LEON!”
That was the last thing he heard before everything went dark.
“What happened to him?” Enid knelt on the ground, looking at the unconscious body.
Blood covered every inch of him, part of his hair and his eyebrows were singed.
Dirt and god knew what else clung to him, his clothes reduced to little more than rags.
Wednesday stood on the other side, shock in her eyes as she scanned every inch of him, trying to piece together what had happened.
As she studied his broken state, her hand rose to her chest, where her heart was beating faster than it should — a feeling she didn’t recognize – Fear.
Enid and Wednesday didn’t move him, afraid that broken ribs might puncture something vital — that much was Wednesday’s call.
They carefully removed what was left of his clothes, checking for injuries, and finding none, Enid grabbed a bucket of water, tears already in her eyes.
She wiped the dirt and blood from him slowly, starting with his head and face, then his chest — her tears falling harder with every bloody patch, until she was outright crying.
“Let me do it.” Wednesday stepped forward, taking the sponge from Enid’s hands.
“Go see if you can find him some clean clothes.” She looked at Enid’s tear-streaked face and sighed.
“He can heal, remember?
He’ll be fine.
Stop crying.”
“O-okay.” Enid sniffled and left the room, wiping her eyes.
Wednesday wrung out the sponge and picked up where Enid had left off.
She wiped gently, her expression neutral, but underneath it something dark stirred — a feeling just as unfamiliar as the first – Rage.
“Something went wrong,” Wednesday muttered.
“He was ambushed.”
She wanted to call him an idiot.
Reckless.
Estúpido.
But the words wouldn’t come — and the silence where her anger should have been felt like the worst kind of confession.
She didn’t know exactly how Leon had planned to deal with Thornhill and Tyler, but after seeing his confident manner, she’d assumed he had it under control.
Looking at him now, she knew things had gone off the rails.
Earlier that day, Tyler had met her after her therapy session, acting normal — bringing up her attempt to run away at the Festival, even offering her a ride again, the same as before.
And even knowing he was the one who’d attacked them that night, she’d played along, acted the way she usually did.
But something had bothered her afterward — the look he’d given her as he left.
Mocking, she was sure of it now.
He knew.
Wednesday’s stomach turned as the realization settled.
She’d assumed neither Thornhill nor Tyler had any idea what she and Leon knew.
She’d been wrong.
‘They knew.
Something went horribly wrong.’
***********
Leon was resting in Enid’s bed, dressed in a hoodie and pink pajama pants.
Wednesday looked at his clothes, then at Enid.
“I couldn’t find boy clothes.
Had to borrow from the girl down the hall.”
Wednesday nodded, satisfied he was resting properly.
“Come on.” She turned and started for the door.
“Where?” Enid asked, following.
“Thornhill’s office.”
They left the dorm.
Wednesday and Enid searched the office, Thornhill’s residence on the Nevermore grounds, and even her Herbology classroom — but to their surprise, found nothing of value.
No plants, no papers, no personal belongings.
Not even the school’s chemical reserves remained.
“She’s gone,” Wednesday said, grinding her teeth.
Enid’s claws punched into the wall, gouging four deep lines into the plaster.
She let out a low, guttural growl.
With nothing left to do, they returned to their dorm, only to find Leon sitting on the desk, dressed in a fresh set of clothes, the ones he’d been wearing folded neatly on the bed.
His eyes were distant, his brow furrowed deeply.
“LEON.” Enid rushed to him, grabbing his face in her hands.
“Are you okay?
How do you feel?
Does it still hurt?”
Leon looked at her, about to offer a reassuring smile — and found he couldn’t.
He’d messed up.
Badly.
“I’m fine,” he said.
“Are you?” Wednesday’s voice came from behind Enid.
“You’re not giving us that irritating smile of yours.
Not waving it all away.”
Leon looked toward the window and let out a breath.
“I messed up.”
“Obviously,” Wednesday said.
“How bad?”
“Big time.” Leon’s jaw tightened.
“I thought I had her in the palm of my hand.
But she already— somehow she saw me coming, and what I’d prepared didn’t work.
Now I don’t know what to do.”
Enid moved behind him and wrapped her arms around him.
“It’s okay.
You’re safe.
We’ll figure it out.”
***********
In the woods, cop cars lined the area.
Sheriff Galpin, his deputy, and the rest of the team stood over a corpse — its torso torn open, organs spread around it, all present but one — his left hand.
“Another body,” Galpin said.
“Did you find anything?”
“We’ve scoured the area, and we found this.” Deputy Santiago pointed toward one of the cop cars, where an unexploded grenade sat in the trunk, being dusted for prints.
“What the hell is that?” Galpin stared.
“Where the hell did a grenade come from?”
“We’re trying to figure that out.” Santiago flipped through her notes.
“The serial number didn’t return anything, but we also found blood spatter near the Gates house — the road torn up, part of the area destroyed.
My guess is that’s where this thing was used.”
“You think that’s connected to this?” Galpin asked.
“Can’t confirm yet,” she said, “but I’d guess this man was attacked by our killer and used grenades to fight back — which would explain the damage near the Gates house.
We’ll know more once we get prints off the weapon and see if the blood near the house matches the victim.
If it doesn’t, that’s our first real lead on the killer.”
“Got his ID back.” A cop jogged over.
“Jason Myers.
Forty-two.
Works at the brewery outside town — and get this.
Known weapons collector.”
“Good.” Santiago allowed herself a small smile.
“That means we might finally have something on this monster.”
***********
Thornhill hummed as she worked — three notes of a lullaby — filling vials one by one with a needle drawn from a burner flame.
“Is it done?” she asked without looking up.
“Yes.
It’s done,” Tyler said.
“I put that man’s fingerprints on the grenade, like you asked.
Moved the body near the Gates house.”
Thornhill set the needle down and turned to him, smiling.
“Good work, Tyler.” She reached up and caressed his cheek.
“Mommy is happy.”
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[AUTHOR’S NOTE]
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