𝐒𝐚𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐝𝐚𝐲

𝐒𝐚𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐝𝐚𝐲'𝐬 𝐂𝐡𝐢𝐥𝐝 𝐢𝐬 𝐅𝐮𝐥𝐥 𝐨𝐟 𝐒𝐨𝐫𝐫𝐨𝐰 𝐕

The stitched, severed hand scuttles into the castle-like academy followed by the petite maid. Long braids swaying in the wind and golden eyes shining brightly.

The day was still stormy and gloomy. "Beautiful" according to Saturday's father. Thunder booms.

The adventurer's bag sits alone on the log, with its open teacup filled with blood.

"Where's the rest of him?" asks a thin, tallish, grey haired man with a thickish grey stubble and sharp pale blue eyes, wearing a wide brimmed hat to shield the rain.

"Well, the torso and arm are over there." returns a round, more muscular thick than loose fat, tall black man next to him, pointing.

They were looking at a severed head, its mouth wide open in shock.

"We found a leg by the lake."

They look at the bloodied, severed arm and torso.

"There's an arm in that tree over there," he points, "and the rest of the parts are so far unaccounted for. It matches the profile of the other two attacks last week."

The older man, nods, accentuating his wrinkles. He was in his late 40s, was leanly muscled and had short, cropped grey hair and bright blue eyes. A sheriff's gold badge glints brightly on the front of his hat.

"All right, issue a warning. Keep hikers out of the woods." he orders. "Don't approve any more campfire permits for the foreseeable future."

"What do you want me to tell the press?" asks the tall black man next to him.

The Sheriff turns his head to his subordinate.

"You know they're going to be swarming like mosquitos in July." he continues shaking his head slightly.

"Tell them the bear is back." he says, tiredly.

"You don't really believe that, Sheriff." scoffs the round, tall man.

"No, I don't." he returns curtly. "Whatever did this wasn't human." he looks again at the bloodied, severed arm and torso on the ground in front of them.

"Look, I know these murders are connected to Nevermore." he points. "I just can't prove it yet. So until I can...it's a goddamn bear."

☟☟☟

It was nighttime. The black sky felt comforting to Saturday as he settled into his new dorm...by first stripping his side of the window out of all colour.

He was dressed in a black and white horizontally striped t-shirt a black jacket, black shorts, long black socks and black elevator sneakers.

He was so focused that he didn't even notice Ethan had walked in until he spoke.

"What the hell did you do to my room?" asks Ethan through gritted teeth.

Ethan was wearing a dark pink, soft pink and yellow striped sweater with matching flower shorts and pink converses. His white-blonde hair swaying angrily as he did.

Saturday drops the coloured cellophane. "Dividing our room equally." He kicks the cellophane pieces onto Ethan's side of the room, which was still as brightly coloured and draped as ever.

"It looks like a rainbow vomited on your side." he says, stalking off towards his own now black side of the room.

Ethan looked like he was about to burst. "I-"

"Silence would be appreciated." says Saturday coldly cutting him off. 

He sits down at his black desk, in front of his black typewriter, leaving a standing Ethan and his colourful mess behind him.

"This is my writing time." Saturday rolls up his black sleeves.

"Your writing time?" questions Ethan from his side of the room.

"I devote an hour a day to my novel." returns Saturday tartly in his low deep voice. "Perhaps if you did the same, your vlog might be coherent." he moves the typewriter's bar. "I've read serial killer diaries with better punctuation."

"I write in my voice." says Ethan, his voice bursting with emotion. "It's my truth. It's what my followers love."

"Your followers are clearly imbeciles." Saturday says emotionlessly as he stands up from his seat and walks to where Ethan is standing. "They respond to your stories with insipid little pictures."

Ethan smiles. "Uh, you mean, emojis? It's how people express their feelings. You know, I realize that's a foreign concept to you."

"When I look at you, the following emojis come to mind. Rope, shovel, hole." says Saturday coldly, looking at Ethan.

Saturday turns away. "By the way, there are two D's in Addams. If you're going to gossip about me, at least spell my name correctly." He walks back to his writing desk.

Ethan plays some peppy pop song on his music player and starts dancing all over the place forcing Saturday to turn around.

"Turn that off." he orders.

Ethan waves his big, pale hands around.

"This is your final warning." commands Saturday.

"Rawr!" roars Ethan playfully as he extends his multicoloured nails into sharp claws. "Don't. Mess with me. This puppy's got claws, and I'm not afraid to use them." he says through gritted teeth.

The door opens and the boys turn to the sound.

"Good evening, boys." says a low voice. Ethan immediately hides his hands behind his back. "Oh, sorry about the mud. I wanted to make sure that Saturday was settling in."

The two boys stand apart in their respective dividend of the room.

The man standing in front of them had short but lush auburn coloured hair, blue rimmed big glasses, and wearing a dark turquoise overcoat with a dark turquoise lacy button shirt with little red, white and orange plant patterns on it. He was holding a black plant. But not just any black plant as Saturday realized.

The man also had on an orange pair of dress pants and muddy red boots which he softly stomped on the floor as if that will get rid of the mud.

"Ah. Is this a bad time?" he asks carefully in his deep somewhat playful voice.

Ethan glances slightly at Saturday who only looked straight ahead at the strange visitor.

"I'm Mr. Thornhill, your dorm leader." He walks up to them, still holding the plant. "Apologies, I wasn't here to greet you when you arrived." he looks at Saturday then at Ethan. "I trust Ethan has given you the old Nevermore welcome." he smiles brightly and Saturday could now see that he was in his early 40s and had warm brown eyes, which he detests immediately. He preferred black.

"He's been smothering me with hospitality." says Saturday nonchalantly.

Mr. Thornhill gives Ethan a glance. 

"I hope to return the favour." continues Saturday.

Ethan smiles brightly, hands still behind his back.

"In his sleep." finishes Saturday.

Ethan stops smiling and turns his head to look at Saturday in alarm.

"Well," chuckles Mr. Thornhill nervously. "here's a little welcome gift from my conservatory." he hands the plant over to Saturday, who accepts it with a cold face. "I try to match the right plant to each of my boys. And when I read your personal statement in your application, I immediately thought of this one."

"The Zamioculcas Raven."

"Oh, you know it?" smiles Mr. Thornhill.

"Of course. It's named after my favourite unsolved murder." says Saturday coldly. "Thank you." he adds.

"Okey-dokey. Before I leave, I want to go over a few house rules. Lights off at 10:00, no loud music, and no girls, ever." he says the last bit seriously, shaking his head as he does so.

"What's the story about going into the local town?" questions Saturday.

☟☟☟