My Life in Wednesday With a Vampire System

Chapter 154 153 : Thing Birthday

The next day, Ethan sat on a courtyard bench at Nevermore Academy, leaning back slightly as he stared up at the sky, his thoughts nowhere near the usual routine of the place.

He couldn't make sense of it.

Why was he suddenly dealing with a demon from another franchise, and not just any random one, but something straight out of the Conjuring universe, like the rules of his world had quietly broken and started pulling in things that didn't belong.

And if that was true—

Then he wasn't just dealing with one problem anymore.

He had to deal with that thing.

A nun-faced demon that didn't rely on brute force or chaos, something that could terrify people without even touching them, something that worked on a level most creatures didn't.

He exhaled slowly, his gaze still fixed upward, but his focus wasn't there anymore.

Even he had felt it.

That moment last night when he looked at the picture, there had been a slight reaction, a chill that didn't come from fear in the usual sense but from something deeper, something instinctive.

Comparing it to the Evil Dead universe made the difference obvious.

Deadites were loud, aggressive, direct, they came at you in ways you could understand and fight back against.

But demons like this were different; there was something about them that pressed directly against the mind, something that didn't need physical contact to affect you, something that unsettled you simply by existing.

"Fuck," Ethan muttered as he dragged a hand through his hair, and a newspaper flew in the air and smashed straight into his face. He pulled it off with an annoyed exhale, ready to toss it aside, but his eyes caught the front page before he could.

The previous sheriff of Jericho had been found dead in his own house.

He read further, slower now, his expression tightening as the details settled in, the report describing crows, not one or two but a swarm, the body left in a condition that didn't match anything natural, like it had been picked apart instead of attacked.

Another report sat beside it, a man found dead in the street, no witnesses, no signs of struggle, his brain eaten in a way that suggested something feeding rather than killing.

Ethan lowered the paper slightly, his thoughts already connecting the pattern, because this wasn't random and it wasn't separate.

"Sometimes I hate this," he muttered, the frustration sitting heavier now.

This pointed straight to the zombie clock boy, the way he fed, the way he used brains to recover himself, then this was only going to escalate.

But that wasn't the only problem.

Willow Hill Psychiatric Hospital.

Judi Spannagel.

His grip tightened on the paper as the connection settled in fully, because she didn't just experiment—she pushed limits, treated outcasts like material, and if Sheriff Galpin had been digging into that like in that plot, then she was definitely responsible for his death.

Then he noticed Thing moving across the grass, slower than usual, not darting around or reacting to anything, just walking without direction like something was bothering him.

Ethan stood up from the bench, watching him for a moment before speaking, his tone casual but observant.

"Something on your mind, Thing?" he asked, stepping closer.

Thing paused, then lifted two fingers and signed back.

Nothing.

Just thinking.

Ethan narrowed his eyes slightly, not entirely convinced, but he didn't push it directly.

"Hm, just thinking," he repeated, folding his arms briefly before adding, "did no one greet you or something?"

Thing's fingers moved again.

No one.

Ethan let out a quiet breath through his nose, the answer settling in.

"Wow," he muttered, shaking his head. "Ignored on your own birthday."

Thing stilled at that, his fingers twitching slightly like he hadn't expected Ethan to notice.

"Then happy birthday, Thing," Ethan said, his tone shifting just enough to make it genuine. "How about we fix that and head to that beauty parlour in Jericho, you get yourself cleaned up, and I get a proper massage because this headache is killing me."

Thing froze for a second—

Then immediately brightened.

In one quick motion, he climbed up Ethan's sleeve, settling comfortably like the decision had already been made.

Ethan glanced down at him as he started walking.

"Yeah, I knew that would convince you," he said as he walked out of the courtyard.

A little later, inside a beauty parlour in Jericho, the contrast to everything else they had been dealing with felt almost unreal.

Thing sat on the seat, fingers spread out as one of the workers carefully worked on him, filing, cleaning, and polishing with surprising professionalism, as if he weren't the strangest client they had ever had.

Ethan leaned back in a nearby chair, eyes half-closed as warm oil was worked into his head and neck, the tension easing out slowly, more than he had realized had built up.

"Isn't this better?" Ethan said, his voice more relaxed now, a noticeable difference from earlier. "All that chaos, all that nonsense… just throw it out for a bit and enjoy something normal."

Thing's fingers twitched in agreement, clearly enjoying the attention.

"For once," he added, "no demons, no murders, no weird voices in people's heads."

He paused for a second.

"…let's keep it that way for at least an hour."

***

A/N: It's decided—the next world will be .

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