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"Look, there are photos attached to the arrow."
Vic walked over and pulled down the two photos nailed to the wall along with the bolt.
One was a candid shot taken just moments ago in the Quad while they were talking to Principal Dort.
In the photo, Wednesday's eyes had been crossed out with a white marker.
Below it, a line written in black marker read: "Welcome back, Wednesday. I'm watching you."
"Whoa, Wednesday, you already have a rabid stalker fan," Vic said, holding the photo by the corner like an interesting souvenir. He waved it at her, his eyes twinkling with the excitement of someone who loves drama.
"Do not envy me."
Wednesday's voice was cool and waveless. She didn't even bother to look up at the photo, as if receiving a death threat was just a standard form of greeting.
"Let me see the other one..."
Vic looked at the next photo with high spirits, but the words stuck in his throat. The smile on his face froze instantly.
You could vaguely tell the person in the photo was Vic—
Why "vaguely"? Because a part of the photo was missing.
Specifically, the part containing Vic's head.
There was writing below this one too, the handwriting jagged and angry: "Stay away from Wednesday, you scumbag!"
It was obvious the missing part of the photo had been sliced off by a sharp blade. Judging by the cut, it was done in one clean stroke, filled with intense hatred.
Vic subconsciously touched his neck. His Adam's apple bobbed unnaturally as he swallowed hard.
"Damn... that's some heavy resentment."
He mumbled softly. The earlier excitement of watching the drama evaporated completely, replaced by a very real chill on the back of his neck.
"Pfft—"
Enid couldn't hold it back. She burst out laughing, her eyes curving into crescents as she pointed at the "decapitated" photo.
"Looks like your 'popularity' is indeed complex, Vic. Is this... the ultimate expression of love turning into hate?"
Even Wednesday looked at the "executed" photo.
The corner of her pale mouth curved up by a microscopic degree, carrying a trace of imperceptible... Schadenfreude?
"Hey! Do you guys have any sympathy?!"
Vic wore a face of despair, holding the two photos side-by-side to compare them. The more he looked, the more aggrieved he felt.
"Why is your 'welcome' just a text reminder, but mine is a physical deletion request? Talk about double standards!"
He pointed at Wednesday's photo with the crosses.
"Yours is, at most, 'Priority Observation Subject.'"
Then he pointed at his own headless photo.
"Mine is straight-up 'Recommended Elimination Target'! The treatment is too different!"
"This indicates—"
Wednesday finally put down her Book of Shadows. She stood up slowly and walked over to Vic.
Her fingertip lightly tapped the clean cut on the "decapitated" photo. Her tone was as calm as an art critic evaluating a piece.
"—that the hostile party's intent toward you is purer and... more efficient."
She looked up, her dark eyes meeting Vic's. A faint trace of amusement seemed to flash within them.
"Congratulations. You have successfully attracted an admirer with more initiative than mine."
"I don't want those congratulations at all!"
Vic wanted to cry but had no tears. The two photos felt like hot potatoes in his hands.
He looked at Enid for help.
"Enid, look at this..."
Enid tried hard to stop laughing. She walked over and patted his shoulder comfortingly, but the mirth in her eyes couldn't be hidden:
"There, there. It just shows our Vic has huge charisma; he can even max out his aggro stats. Don't worry, with me and Wednesday here, we won't let you actually get 'deleted.'"
She said that, but looking at Enid's smiling eyes, Vic felt her guarantee wasn't particularly reliable.
"Wednesday, use your powerful psychic abilities, quick!"
Vic leaned close to Wednesday, his eyes shining and lips curving up. He seemed to already be visualizing a scene that pleased him—
"I want to catch that stalker and spank them! Until they're swollen!"
Just as his voice faded, a faint but continuous sound drilled into their ears.
Squeak... squeak... squeak...
"What's that sound?"
Vic pricked up his ears, looking around in confusion.
"Do we have rats?"
Wednesday ignored his nonsense and the surrounding noise.
She took the two photos from Vic's hand. Her fingertips gently touched the rough paper and the cold marker ink. Her eyes closed slowly as she entered a vision.
Blurry, jumping images flashed through her mind like broken film strips:
A perspective rapidly approaching and then retreating while they spoke briefly with Bianca in the corner of the courtyard;
A perspective hidden in the gaps of the crowd while they stood with Principal Dort in the center of the Quad;
And... a perspective so close it could almost count her eyelashes, taken when Vic was pressed tightly against her side, practically squeezing her into the wall!
Wednesday's brow furrowed tighter.
Strange. A sneak shot from such a close distance... with my vigilance, how did I not notice anything?
Especially that last one. It was practically face-to-face.
The psychic images stopped abruptly there.
"I saw nothing. I did not find the stalker."
Wednesday let go, and the photos drifted back into Vic's hands. Her voice carried a trace of imperceptible frustration and gravity.
"The subject is like a ghost. Unseen. Unseen... Could it be an invisible person?"
Just as she finished speaking, she suddenly felt an unignorable warmth and pressure on her waist.
Looking down, she saw Vic's hand firmly supporting her waist. His fingers even unconsciously squeezed the curve beneath her thin clothes lightly.
"What are you doing?"
Wednesday's voice dropped several degrees instantly, trying to use the coldness to mask the sudden spike of strange sensation.
Vic wore a righteous face of "I am doing this entirely out of goodwill," blinking his innocent peach-blossom eyes:
"I was afraid the vision drained you too much and you'd fall! Essential boyfriend protocol!"
Wednesday took a deep breath. She forcibly suppressed the urge to slap that paw away caused by the tingling sensation at her waist—and the heat faintly rising in her cheeks.
This imbecile! Does he not know a girl's waist is sensitive?
No! Fortunate that Vic doesn't know!
She absolutely did not want to expose such a weakness to this guy who always pushed his luck!
"I will check outside the door for other clues."
Wednesday shook off Vic's hand almost hastily, controlling her strength so as not to hurt him.
She turned and walked quickly out of the dorm room. Her back was straight as always, but her pace was slightly more hurried than usual.
She needed the cold air to cool the suspicious heat on her face, and more importantly, she needed to get away from the calamity who could so easily disturb her peace of mind.