𝐒𝐚𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐝𝐚𝐲

𝐒𝐨𝐫𝐫𝐨𝐰 𝐢𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐋𝐨𝐧𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐍𝐮𝐦𝐛𝐞𝐫 𝐈𝐈

"Someone is trying to cover up Rowan's murder." says Saturday coldly and seriously to the Sheriff. "That's the only reason to scrub the crime scene." he finishes nonchalantly.

"Is that your professional opinion as the son of a murderer?" returns the man snarkily. Without waiting for a response from the tall, pale boy he added harshly with a great dose of sarcasm: "Am I just supposed to believe the claims of the son of a murderer, and his little girlfriend?"

Saturday's piercing obsidian eyes narrowed into an icy glare.

"That pathetic maid is not my girlfriend. My mother's twice the person you are, and the only thing she murders is the occasional opera in the shower." replies the boy emotionlessly.

The Sheriff rolled his eyes in annoyance. "Addams it's been a long night. I'm tired of your games." says the thin man as he looks up into the tall boy's ebony eyes.

Saturday widens his eyes as he looks down at the middle aged man. "I'm not playing games. I'm telling the truth." he says seriously.

"You want to reject my claims but you can't." he challenges quietly but menacingly with his smooth deep voice.

"Why is that?" the man stares back at him, unfazed.

"Because you and I both know there's a monster out there. And Rowan is his latest victim." the pale boy finishes.

The tall black doors open and a tall, roundish, stockily muscular, black man walks in. "Sheriff?"

"What?" asks the thin man.

Both he and the tall, pale, floppy-black haired boy look at the black man.

"You're gonna want to see this." The Sheriff's assistant says incredulously, at the door.

He lets go of the door...revealing Rowan, in his glasses, grey shirt, a neon green hoodie, a brown jacket, light brown pants and grey leather shoes.

Saturday stares at the boy at the door in disbelief, as the Sheriff returns his accusing gaze back up towards the tall, pale boy, then back towards Rowan as he stalks into the study.

Edgar Allan Poe said, "Believe nothing you hear and half of what you see."

Rowan smiled awkwardly, border lining on grimacing, and raises his hand in greeting to the two inside. The round, muscular black man smiles in disbelief behind him.

Clearly Nevermore's most famous alumni picked that up here. 

No wonder he became a drug-addled madman.

☟☟☟

"Help me understand why you claim you witnessed a murder." A smooth deep voice probed.

Sitting in Dr. Kinbott's office Saturday was once again forced to attend the elfishly handsome man's sessions.

"Was it to gain attention?" questions the Doctor.

"Why should I bother telling you anything? You've already decided I'm lying." returns Saturday coolly, his face an expressionless mask. "I know what I saw." he says decisively.

"Your life's had a lot of upheaval recently. It's okay to be confused about things." returns the older man gently.

"Don't try and lure me into one of your psychological traps." says the boy in his deep, smooth voice.

"No one is trying to trap you." says Dr. Kinbott, shaking his head and his golden curls. He was in an all off-white attire, with a simple off-white shirt and off-white slacks.