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WD - Chapter 191: Manipulation is fun
🕑 Added 2025-01-09 16:25:25 +0000 UTCDong... dong... dong...
Luke, who had been sleeping soundly, began to hear an eerie sound, like the tolling of a funeral bell. His eyes slowly opened, and he noticed a cellphone vibrating on the nightstand, emitting that gloomy tone.
It was Wednesday’s phone, and the alarm she had set since they arrived in Shadyside. She had been exploring her new phone and chose this sound as her alarm.
'What a lovely alarm…' Luke thought, dark circles under his eyes, as he lazily got out of bed. It was very early in the morning, and today marked the beginning of his eleventh grade at a normie school.
Wednesday, who had been sleeping in her usual corpse-like pose, opened her eyes and sat up slowly, as if a corpse were returning to life or a vampire rising from its coffin.
Her expression showed neither fatigue nor laziness, unlike Luke. Calmly, she extended her arm toward the phone and turned off the alarm.
“How can you be this fine after waking up?” Luke asked in a hoarse, groggy tone. They had gone to bed at five in the morning and had slept less than three hours.
Even though their outcast bodies were superior to those of normies and theoretically required less sleep, Luke loved to sleep and rest.
“Sleeping two or three hours is enough for me. The same should go for you, especially considering your three auras,” Wednesday replied in her usual monotone voice, showing no signs of fatigue.
“Sleeping is one of life’s pleasures; two or three hours is way too little,” Luke justified himself, feeling as though an energy emanating from the bed was pulling him back into its comforting embrace.
“Maybe you're tired because of last night,” Wednesday commented with what seemed like a faint, mocking smile as she got out of bed.
Luke didn't respond instantly, as his gaze shifted to Wednesday who was wearing one of his white T-shirts that for obvious reasons was too big for her. The shirt covered halfway up her thighs.
The contrast between the immaculate white of the fabric and her pale skin further accentuated her figure and most tantalizing of all, Luke knew that beneath the folds of the fabric was nothing.
Feeling Wednesday's gaze fixed on him, Luke stopped staring at her thighs and looked up at her, “Ahem... I guess so,” he replied to the earlier question.
“Score one for me then,” Wednesday said opening a drawer and grabbing a small notebook with a pencil.
As she opened the notebook, she could see that on the first sheet were written down her name and Luke's name, below each had what was a little stick: I which stood for a point. She went to the bottom and wrote down a point for her.
“I'm still in the lead,” Luke said with a slight smile, looking from the side. He had two more points than Wednesday.
The game basically was a competition of who satisfied the other in sex first. That is, the one who came first lost or he who was more 'smashed and pleased' after they were done.
Both were very competitive, to the point that they brought this facet to their relationships at night. The game had a duration of one month. The loser must do what the winner says without being able to object to the request.
“Be happy for now. I'll win,” Wednesday said closing the notebook.
“We'll see... I'll go thinking about what I want you to do the day I win,” Luke said with a smirk.
"Shut up and go take the potion, sister," Wednesday said, giving Luke a kick in the rear. Taking advantage of the push, he headed to the bathroom.
Twenty minutes after they got up, they left the room and headed to the kitchen, where Natasha, in her Lucy form, was finishing preparing breakfast.
Wednesday wore a long-sleeved, lightweight textured sweater in dark gray, subtly fitted to highlight her figure without losing her understated air. On the bottom, she sported worn black skinny jeans and black Converse sneakers.
While her outfit maintained the monochromatic essence she was known for, it was noticeably more contemporary and mundane than her usual classic and gothic attire.
As for Luke, he chose to stick to his masculine style, albeit in its feminine version. He wore an oversized black shirt that hung loosely over his figure, covering his hips and striking a balance between comfort and neutrality.
To complete the look, he opted for straight-cut, lightweight black pants, avoiding unnecessary tightness.
On his feet were simple dark athletic sneakers. Despite his efforts to remain inconspicuous, his new appearance was so perfect that even the simplest outfit seemed tailor-made to enhance it.
What stood out the most was his hair. Long golden locks fell in soft, natural waves, framing his face flawlessly. The golden tone had warm highlights that shimmered even in the dimmest light, giving him an ethereal, almost otherworldly air.
Though the hair appeared untamed, with slightly tousled strands, this only added to its authenticity and charm, as if perfection came effortlessly.
Luke refused to use clips, tie his hair, or style it differently. He also wouldn’t wear makeup or anything of the sort. It was already bad enough being a damned woman; he wasn’t about to adopt her habits as well.
However, this attempt at maintaining a disheveled style only amplified his allure, giving him an even more genuine and captivating presence.
His eyes were equally striking—a vibrant blue that seemed to replicate the sky. Luke’s eye color in his masculine form was a darker shade of blue.
“Hurry up, mother! I’m starving,” Luke complained, pounding his small, delicate fist on the breakfast table.
Wednesday raised an eyebrow at him. “Are you already getting into character?” she asked.
“Yes, I need to get used to being a spoiled and beautiful little girl,” Luke replied with a slight smile.
He had spent time crafting the personality of Tuesday Foster.
Tuesday would be a spoiled, rebellious, and shamelessly arrogant child. She would revel in breaking rules and have no qualms about speaking rudely or treating others with disdain.
With such a flawless appearance, it seemed only natural for her to act as though the world revolved around her, convinced her beauty entitled her to reign like a queen.
She would enjoy having followers at her beck and call, using them to gather information as needed.
For Luke, playing this role wouldn’t be an impossible challenge, though it did require a shift in his usual behavior.
Luke, who genuinely despised attention-seeking efforts and preferred to be left alone, now had to channel his natural impatience and innate rudeness into a more exaggerated performance, projecting arrogant confidence and an air of superiority.
“There’s no need to act here,” Wednesday muttered with a slight grimace. The personalities she found most annoying were queen bees like Bianca. Now Luke was about to adopt that kind of attitude, only a thousand times more arrogant and spoiled, and the very thought gave her a slight headache.
“Here you go, sweetheart,” Natasha said sweetly, turning around and placing plates brimming with food on the breakfast bar.
Wednesday frowned as she observed Natasha. 'You too…?' she thought incredulously. Natasha was already fully immersed in her role as a loving and accommodating mother, as if she were also part of Luke’s show.
“It’s part of the act, Wednesday,” Natasha said, noticing her look and shrugging. “If we’re going to do this, we might as well do it right. Besides, it helps me get into character for when I go to work.”
“Exactly, Jenna. I expect you to adapt to the role I assigned you,” Luke said with a slight smile as he took a bite of his toast.
“I know. The smart and shy girl, right? That shouldn’t be too hard. I just need to show a slightly more effusive expression,” Wednesday replied.
“Exactly. The only thing you need to stick to is the concept of shyness. You can’t let that sharp attitude of yours take over. No glaring at people with disdain or making sarcastic, cutting remarks. None of that,” Luke said, emphasizing the key points.
“And what if someone bothers me?” Wednesday asked, raising an eyebrow. It would be hard for her not to insult the person and make them cry with just her words—or give them a beating if things escalated physically.
“Nothing. Just endure it. Don’t react. If someone provokes you, take a deep breath and move on,” Luke replied. He was the center of attention, not her. A shy personality couldn’t confront bullies with biting comments or, in a more extreme case, beat them up.
Luke, noticing Wednesday’s clearly displeased expression, spoke again.
“All you have to do is wait for your sister,” he said with a smile.
“The spoiled girl will take care of it?” Wednesday asked.
“Yes. Even though Tuesday doesn’t show affection, she’s very protective of her sister. Considering her violent personality, it’s natural she wouldn’t hesitate to start a fight to defend her,” Luke replied.
“Mm,” Wednesday nodded. Either way, it wouldn’t be hard for her to ignore the normies like annoying flies until Tuesday got involved.
“That way, you can investigate in the library or other places. It won’t be unusual for you to do that,” Luke added, giving him a thumbs-up.
“Why do you enjoy this whole ‘acting’ thing with different personalities so much?” Natasha asked, unable to contain her curiosity.
Although she knew the mission was crucial and all, she couldn’t help but feel Luke was taking things to an unnecessary level.
After all, creating personality sheets for every new identity seemed a bit excessive. As long as they weren’t discovered by the Spellmans, she thought, that should be enough.
For her, it was different. Being an adult, she couldn’t show a cold attitude at work while gathering information or whatever. As for Luke and Wednesday, they could maintain their original personalities at school.
“Don’t get me wrong, but I just don’t get what attracts you to this. You, with your... well, egocentric, cold, arrogant personality. And suddenly you’re diving into all this role-playing? It’s a little... odd, isn’t it?” she added.
“It’s fun to see how people react,” Luke replied.
“You see them as puppets, don’t you? Moving among them and manipulating them like pieces in a game without them realizing it,” Wednesday commented with a smile, clearly enjoying the idea.
Both she and Luke shared a twisted sense of amusement when it came to manipulation.
“Mm… yeah, something like that. But hey, I don’t harm them, right? Sometimes I even help them. Remember that woman?” Luke asked, his tone casual.
“The fentanyl addict? Yes, I remember. You erased her memories of the drugs and her dependency on them. It was weird watching you play the hero for a few days,” Wednesday replied, amused but with a faint hint of mockery in her voice.
“It didn’t last as long as I thought... In movies and comics, it seemed more fun,” Luke said with a slight sigh.
“You played hero only to get bored afterward? What a twisted concept of entertainment,” Natasha remarked with a dry laugh.
"I wasn’t the only one, by the way. Wednesday was with me. At first, she was reluctant to act that way—you know, saving lives and all that tedious morality. But little by little, she became more cooperative," Luke said, turning his head toward Natasha.
Wednesday let out a snort but didn’t deny it.
"Cooperative is one way to put it. I wasn’t interested in saving anyone, but I’ll admit that watching the reactions of terrified criminals or grateful civilians had its charm. Manipulating their emotions in real time was... interesting," she said in her characteristic cold tone, though there was a spark of amusement in her eyes.
"You acted like vigilantes because you enjoyed manipulating everyone’s reactions?" Natasha asked, raising an eyebrow.
"Partly, yes. It made the process less boring while we gathered the mutilated parts we needed for the ritual," Luke replied, and Wednesday nodded.
Natasha observed them in silence for a few seconds, as if trying to decide whether they were joking or genuinely as unhinged as they sounded.
"If that’s what entertains you, go ahead..." she finally said, shrugging.
"You act too. You’re the loving, widowed mother working hard to care for her two kids—all sweetness and sacrifice. All while you’re actually cold and calculating. And you have the nerve to call me weird for enjoying this?" Luke said reproachfully.
"My act is necessary. Yours is just a pastime," Natasha replied, unfazed.
She had to be sociable at work if she wanted to gather information.
"Sure, sure. Necessary. But don’t kid yourself. We know you enjoy being the adorable widowed mom in this little town. It must be fascinating to see everyone buy into your performance," Luke said with a slight smile.
"Maybe you don’t want to admit it, but you’re not that different from us. Manipulating perceptions is part of the game, whether for fun or necessity," Wednesday added, tilting her head slightly toward Natasha.
"It’s not the same. Now, go to school; you’re already running late," Natasha said curtly, clearly not in the mood to continue the discussion.
"I’ll be late. I have to stick to my script," Luke said with a carefree smile.
"Fine, see you," Wednesday said as she calmly got up. She had no time to waste; with her "brainiac" persona, being late was out of the question.
"Oh, wait. Don’t forget this," Luke said, reaching into his pocket and pulling out a pair of black glasses.
He handed them to Wednesday, who looked at them for a few seconds before taking them.
She put them on and began walking toward the exit. The glasses were fake, just an accessory, but essential for completing the image she projected: the intelligent, shy, and mysteriously cute girl who fit perfectly into the narrative they were constructing.
