'...And if I did? You deserved it'
I posted the thirteenth chapter of my ao3 fic a few days ago.
Full work and tags can be found HERE
Feedback always welcome.
Premise: A season one-ish reimagining with the characters in college Summary: Enid Sinclair finally got a roommate in her second year of college. Introducing her to modern college life seemed like a good idea at the time. At least until Enid teaches her how to read the news on her phone.
That’s when the murders start.
Total word count so far: 54,553
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions of Violence
Some of my favorite excerpts from the chapters:
From chapter 2:
"They’ve got this weird psychic thing where they finish each otherr’sss…” Enid drew the last word out, letting a smile grow on her face as she winked at Wednesday. Wednesday raised an eyebrow. Enid raised an eyebrow. Wednesday raised her eyebrow higher. Enid’s face hurt. They stood still for a few moments, stuck at an impasse, before Wednesday muttered, “…sentences?”
Enid giggled, dancing happily on her feet. “Yeah!"
From chapter 5:
A carrot was placed on the cutting board. In a blur of movement, Wednesday brought the knife up and down; reducing it to a row of perfectly even slices. Enid gawked in awe. “Can I try?” Wednesday wordlessly handed over the knife. Enid gently brought it down. The tip of the carrot shot off the chopping board and into the flames. “Maybe not.” She poked the carrot chunk with the end of some tongs until it was no longer on fire. Wednesday reached for the next carrot. Enid turned back to the sausages. Wait. She dived for the trash can, searching for the cooking instructions. Her fingers brushed against the plastic and she yanked it free. Cook for 20 mins. Noted. She tossed it back in the trash.
From chapter 11:
Enid ran through the dorm, pushing open the window with only a slight hiss. Wednesday casually paced after her. A raven laid against the floor, its wings spread across the stone so wide she could count every individual feather. It wore a strange little backpack made of twine. Enid glanced up at Wednesday. “Don’t be offended.” She pointed at the unconscious raven. “Is this yours?”
From chapter 13:
The door to the establishment slammed open. Enid ran through, panting heavily. “She didn’t do it.”
The sheriff looked at her strangely.
“I did it.”
Wednesday raised an eyebrow.
“Uh I mean…” Enid reached into the jacket pockets and slammed green bills onto the table. “No one did it.”
