Chapter 248: Wednesday’s Diary III

[Wednesday’s POV]

Journal Entry – February 28

A month has passed. The war continues in silence. Its intensity has increased slightly, but there haven’t been many changes.

After our conversation, Enid began to get closer to Yoko. Much closer.

Sleepovers, group study sessions. Activities I would never choose to get involved in, not even under threat.

But the result was surprisingly effective. I didn’t think she’d manage to learn so much about Yoko’s upbringing and her family’s more hidden ideals so quickly.

It’s well known that vampires are naturally closed-off.

Reserved.

And if that’s true among themselves, it doubles when the person they’re speaking to is a werewolf. Even more so considering Enid used to date Luke, direct enemy of the Spellmans.

Even so, Enid pulled it off.

It’s true there is public information about vampire clans, especially for families like mine.

The Addams have always had access to more privileged knowledge.

And ever since the Outcast Council began promoting coexistence with normies, at least on paper, the more powerful vampire clans, including the seven great ones, adopted more “modern” policies. For years now, the law of normie-blood abstinence has been enforced among them.

Not out of kindness. Out of diplomacy.

The punishment for breaking that law is severe.

And these days, most clans remain neutral or aligned with the Council’s official stance.

But the appearance of the Spellmans, sudden, radical, and with a strength no one anticipated despite the heavy losses they suffered at Luke’s hands, is shaking those foundations.

What once was stable neutrality is beginning to crack. And what once felt like a peace agreement now feels like a taut rope… ready to snap if pulled hard enough.

Yoko’s parents aren’t extremists like the Spellmans, but it would be wrong to say they’re fond of normies either.

Their opinions, though hidden on the surface, are known to Yoko, and Enid managed to uncover them subtly. They hold a modest sense of supremacy, seeing normies as inferior, clumsy, and dangerous. They don’t advocate for extermination, but if it could be done quietly… I’d say they’d be in favor.

Considering vampires have had more historical conflicts with normies than any other marginalized race, this isn’t a trivial detail.

Yoko, for her part, is an anomaly shaped by normie culture:

she uses social media, listens to pop, openly came out as a lesbian without punishment—but she doesn’t show open sympathy toward coexistence.

No active defense. She’s quiet. And in a war like this, silence also takes sides.

So the level of suspicion toward her and her family has climbed a notch.

As for Enid…

I’m still surprised by how easily she got that information. I thought it would be harder, even after being her friend for years, but it seems that when it comes to Luke, her emotional compass gets recalibrated.

…

Journal Entry – March 14

The war continues.

No visible outbreaks, no massive clashes, but it moves silently, and that tends to be more dangerous.

The night missions are ongoing. Same with intelligence gathering.

But what’s changed the most over the past two weeks isn’t the external front.

It’s the internal one.

My cohabitation with Enid is no longer simply functional. It’s not just about sharing reports or coordinating missions.

Something is shifting. Not explosively, more like a slow stitch.

I wouldn’t say our friendship has resumed. That would be too premature, sentimental, and strangely awkward to say aloud.

But yes, I do consider that I once had a friendship with Enid.

Brief and fleeting.

One that broke before it could solidify, because of Luke, of course…

Even if it’s hard to admit, it would be foolish to ignore the friendship.

It was during the first few months after I arrived at Nevermore, back when I barely spoke to Luke.

We were both too self-centered to even address each other.

And when we did, it was out of obligation: our psychic abilities class forced us to team up since neither of us had a partner.

In those first months, I was alone, as usual in all my previous schools.

Except, there was a variable: Enid.

She was stubborn enough to become my friend.

Despite my coldness, sharp remarks, and all the clear signals I sent to scare her off.

She was the first person I ever told something personal to:

the promise I made to myself never to cry again, after the death of my scorpion Nero, killed by a group of psychic children.

The first at that time, since I eventually told Luke about it too.

She also shared something with me: that she was training because of a promise.

She never said exactly what it was, but now I know it was a promise she made to Luke.

I remember her anxiety at not seeing progress. Her frustrations and doubts.

She was my first friend in life…

And if Luke read this, he’d probably make some sarcastic comment about how “sad and antisocial” that sounds.

He always makes that kind of joke, even mocking himself, since he was antisocial too.

But I don’t see it that way.

I never needed those kinds of connections.

I didn’t seek them. I didn’t value them as something useful.

Social relationships were a waste of time, a game of masks with no logical purpose.

At least until Enid came along, and I somehow made her my first friend, even if I couldn’t admit it back then.

She was an unexpected element, but not an unpleasant one.

Of course, it didn’t last.

There was no time for anything to solidify.

Soon after came Rowan’s attempted murder, the Hyde, the prophecy I shared with Luke. The murders in Jericho.

I started spending more time with Luke. Investigating, fighting, getting to know him.

And without even realizing it… I fell in love.

I knew, even if I didn’t want to admit it at the time, that she felt something for him too. That there was a history.

A promise and a long wait. But back then, I didn’t care.

My bond with Luke became more important than any other relationship.

And when that happened, I decided that feeling deserved more attention than any connection I had before. Including the budding, not-quite-defined friendship I had with Enid.

Enid also noticed how close I was getting to Luke.

And knowing both his personality and mine, she clearly had her suspicions.

She distanced herself from me, and I don’t blame her.

The friendship we had, the one that was just beginning to take shape, slowly eroded in silence.

Until it broke completely. When Luke made his choice, and chose me.

Now, nearly two years later, we share a room and time together again.

At first, for strategic reasons, and because I knew Enid was useful to Luke and that she said she wouldn’t approach him or try to win him back.

But, as with everything truly inevitable… it changed.

Now we eat together.

Not because we have to. Not because we need to go over reports or coordinate patrol schedules.

Simply… because we do.

Because we’re in the same place and neither of us minds anymore.

And at night, if there are no missions, we talk.

Small things.

Conversations with no tactical purpose behind them.

Minor behaviors that, coming from others, I would classify as a waste of time.

But with Enid, I don’t feel that way.

That’s the most unsettling part.

That I didn’t expect it, nor plan for it. And that despite knowing she was Luke’s ex, the first one he chose before falling in love with me,

despite knowing she still remembers him, still thinks of him, and still loves him…

It doesn’t bother me. Not the way it should have in the past.

Back when I even tried to send her to her death, though I changed my mind and saved her.

…

The March 14 entry was the last time I wrote in my journal. A week has passed, and I haven’t written anything since.

Not for lack of events. But from an excess of thought.

I was sitting in front of my typewriter, ready to continue the journal, but at exactly 10:03 PM, something broke the inertia.

A loud thud against the window frame.

I opened it, and a raven flew in. Black as ink, with a scroll tied to one of its legs.

I unrolled the parchment.

The raven didn’t move until I finished reading. Then it flew away.

“A new mission?” Enid asked as she stepped out of the bathroom, towel around her neck, drying her hair.

She was wearing bright bubblegum-pink training clothes.

I nodded without lifting my eyes from the parchment.

“Yes. It doesn’t say much. Just a location: a town in the eastern hills of Vermont. About 200 kilometers from here. We’re the closest.”

She stopped, raising a brow. “What kind of mission?”

“Recon. And possible intervention.”

My voice was flat, but the contents of the message were anything but light.

“Recent disappearances. Presence of irregular psychic energy. Possible dark implications.”

I paused briefly before adding,

“The kind of case that used to be taboo. But ever since the Spellmans started this war… many have begun engaging in pagan dealings openly.”

“Any idea what kind of dark implication?” she asked, her tone more serious.

“No. But worst case… demonic pacts.”

Then I added, “Go change,” and my eyes couldn’t help but register disapproval at the pink hue of her outfit.

She noticed immediately. She knows colors like that are an eyesore to me.

“What? I can’t summon ancient terror dressed in pink?” she asked with a faint smile.

“Only if you want to die ridiculously. Move,” I said without a hint of humor.

She mumbled something under her breath, probably a complaint about the lack of humor in this room, and walked over to her wardrobe.

I was alone for a moment.

I looked at the parchment again.

Eltanin.

A small town.

Luckily, Enid didn’t take long to change, and we left as soon as possible.

Two hundred kilometers isn’t short.

We’re not as fast as Luke, breaking the sound barrier mid-flight, but in an hour or less, we’ll be there.

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