Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

The night is gruesome, to say the least. There are voices everywhere, some of them call her name in a distorted attempt of positiveness, but all she can do is watch as, what had been her life for years, was slowly desecrated in front of her own eyes. Its guts spill out to taint her shoes, she steps on some of its intestines and internally smiles at the wet sound it makes underneath her strength.

She can see it all from the podium. The heap of bodies seem to merge into one, and maybe it's her own vision, but the image is pleasantly grotesque. The screams of mercy turn into one inhuman screech and she can almost wince at the sheer volume of it. Her ears ring and the dissonance between seeing the mass of flesh and limbs opening what would be its mouth and hearing naught but the shrill of tinnitus would unnerve her, should she be a lesser woman.

The creature lifts a single arm. She freezes, a mistake she will never forgive herself for in the very few seconds she has left. The claws pierce her robe, she is dragged with little care and the next thing her eyes are able to catch it's the teeth, blood and saliva dripped from the canines. She doesn't scream, her lips are as locked as her limbs – maybe it's fear, maybe it's resignation. She will probably never know.

Nonetheless, she breathes, a single blink and the scenery is back to normal. The image in her head perfecting the way blood splashes are staining the floor, the broken chairs and the stage, her ability to reconstruct the moment the murder happened precise as always.

The dread in the air should be long gone, much like the life of the owners of the few limbs scattered around the grass, but she could feel it against her shoulders. She tries to stretch as discretely as possible, the discomfort is familiar and grounding but the feeling of her muscles heavy and weary are quite bothersome. 

There is an arm, raggedly torn from its joint just a few feet away from her, she can see the way the pectoral minor muscle and tendon gave way under pressure and the bone peeking out shyly from the cut. Her eyes move, ever just slightly, and land on a hastily severed head, death glazed green eyes locks on hers. If she has to guess, she would say it's a boy, his lips are blood wet and parted, a deep breath and she would feel the beginning of the decay reaching what is left of the people who once stood in that very same space to celebrate.

She scoffs internally. The caps on the ground are either merely bloody and torn by either claws or the friction caused by people trying to run away or somehow deeply filled with brain mass. Honestly, it had to be expected for something to go wrong, such a gaudy event has to turn interesting in a way or another.

A thunder sounds and part of hers feels bad for losing evidence to incoming rain of all things, but she memorized every bit and inch which could possibly be for this investigation–

“Oh my god, you're so fucking dramatic!” Enid's voice exclaimed, half amused laugh and half exasperated groan, blue eyes leaving the page and finding hers. Uncaring about volume control in the plane or the disgruntled look from other passengers. “Graduation wasn't that bad.”

Wednesday hummed at the interruption, she was getting to a good part too. Almost shameful her flow just had to be broken. Her fingers stopped trying to pass the page, she could see the name of the next chapter, Spain: Barcelona, how fitting.

“You don't know that,” she merely answered, monotone as always.

“You did one speech.”

Wednesday rolled her eyes, a sigh died in her lips before it came out but she had the decency to at least look at Enid.

“Yes. And it was the worst form of torture I have ever experienced,” she deadpanned.

Enid raised an eyebrow, a smirk growing on her lips. “Cause you had to compliment the school?”

Wednesday merely breathed out. Enid laughed, quiet and victorious, after so long she was good at knowing exactly what Wednesday's silences meant. She didn't know what to feel about that.

The brand recognition left on her skin burned every time Enid did something remotely similar to that. They spent the entirety of winter and summer break of senior year together. Wednesday thought it would be counterproductive to send her home, she was still an Alpha and thus, she would still be hunted by her own pack.

Being in the protection of an Addams seemed to improve her safety standards by a lot. As far as Wednesday had read, and she did – a lot – the biggest problem with that whole thing came when they were inserted into werewolf society. Enid was, for all intents and purposes, a lone wolf. Would be one had she not claimed Wednesday, and therefore the Addams, as her pack publicly and in the process renounced the Sinclairs in all but name.

Wednesday had offered to make her an Addams, officially. But Enid made a face, one she hadn't made yet and the seer couldn't properly categorize, and declined the idea on some boundaries she hadn't understood very well.

Regardless, there they were now. About thirty five thousand feet up in the air and already on the third of the seven and a half hour flight to their destination, not counting the time they would have to spend driving, so far away from home that Wednesday did feel a twinge of something she couldn’t name in her chest. Though, at least she was now going out on her own free will.

“Fuck,” Enid suddenly sighed. “You write so much,” her eyes were wide but her nose was still scrunched, maybe it was delight, maybe it was something else entirely.

“Thank you,” Wednesday murmured.

“Not a compliment.”

Wednesday just looked at her. Sometimes, especially since getting Enid back from the wilderness, she found herself just watching, memorizing, making sure she wasn’t blinking so it would last long. She didn’t hate looking at Enid, enjoyed even, her expressions – the way her eyebrows furrowed when she read another sentence on the paper, the way she bit her bottom to stop herself from whimpering in disgust, her fingers idly thumbing the pages she had yet to go through, her head tilting to the left when she got a little confused with anything. 

Wednesday just thought she was an interesting person. Well, if Enid was going to be her self appointed number one, and fortunately, only best friend, that had to be at least one of her many, not that unlikable, traits.

It took about fifteen minutes for Enid to grow a little green and Wednesday felt her cheek muscles pulling up against her will. The quasi smile was hidden in time for blue eyes to focus on her face, was it pride that dripped onto her ribcage? She would probably say so were it not for the weird thrumming in her bloodstream.

Enid looked like she was about to hurl, Wednesday was used to that kind of expression, she counted until thirty in her head and could have commended her friend for not passing out if she was any more inclined to verbal displays of anything. As it was, she merely watched Enid getting herself together. It almost seemed as if she hadn’t spent so much time as a beast, hunting and needing to defend herself against her own species, as if she hadn’t…

Wednesday let go of that train of thought, Enid probably didn’t even know. She shouldn’t know. Not the girl who sometimes still felt bad for killing deers and bears to survive, for as long as Wednesday could keep this secret she would.

“You do know you don’t have to read it, right,” It was interesting, the barest of an infliction of a question where it would usually just come out as a statement. Her voice was a little softer than usual, most people on the plane were settling down to sleep, the sun had long since been gone – or maybe Enid just seemed to polish her jaded edges, just a little, just enough to cut smoothly. So she added. “Your insipid little romance stories have rotted your brain beyond recognition.”

Enid scoffed. “Listen…you’re my bestie, but if I don’t beta read this for you, it won’t work…” Wednesday just raised an eyebrow. “You spent four pages describing a room, Weds…Four. Pages.”

She paused, the memories of the time she spent writing that particular chapter on the forefront of her mind. It had been on a night Enid was out with her friends, they had invited her, Wednesday found herself being invited to things more often, it was weird. She found herself going out more as well, during the time Enid spent at her manor Gomez told her having people on your corner, allies, could be what saved her and since they did help search for Enid, Wednesday started to see them as a little more than merely school nuisances. She did end up in the vampire’s – in Yoko’s, her…acquaintance, Yoko’s – room, but only after her writing time.

And though she felt thoroughly uninspired, for some reason she could not even start to discern, Wednesday thought fleshing out the room where the main crime in that specific novel happened would give a little more insight on the killer’s thought process.

“The room is important.”

“I know…but do we really have to know about the,” she cleared her throat and straightened her back, deepening her voice in a poor imitation of hers. “Indents, ragged and uneven, on the base of the ceramic flower pot, scratched over multiple times and very clearly painted over in a poor imitation of the usual white seen in more professionally made– yada, yada, yada. Like– we get it.”

Wednesday rolled her eyes. One of the main reasons she allowed Enid to be a part of her editing process was because her book had to be good enough for people who weren’t Addams but who could understand them, at least a little. Something or other about the shift in perspective her Grandmama had always tried teaching her. 

“Viper knows this means her killer is most likely a perfectionist, the type of people who would rather make by hand anything in which could possibly go inside their house instead of buying them because they don’t trust anyone else. It means they are less likely to have a partner. Furthermore, the coverups tell the killer is an impatient person, someone with a short temper who would not – cannot – keep making the same mistakes. This means sometime, most likely in a very short period they would commit some grave error caused by rushed behavior.”

Enid just looked. Wednesday lowered a little the intensity of the small air conditioner on her seat after noticing the slightly red twinge on the very top of her ears. Her friend hummed and kept reading, Wednesday said nothing.

Her eyes were a bit heavy, she hadn’t slept since the day before. Her hands ended up cramped after writing the entire night in the notebook she decided to dedicate to the investigations, her mind tried to recall all the details of the murders. Her cousin had called in the early morning, Angoisse had been trying to collect some specific specimens in Spain and heard people talking. Concerned family members to be more specific, then she called Wednesday to look into it now that she graduated and likely had nothing to do. She still wondered who of her family warned the rest to let her know if any weird…er things arised. 

Enid claimed she should send fresh roadkill to her mother.

She restrained a yawn. Sleeping would be fine, she would at least wake up with a pleasant ache in her lower back and neck. Enid didn’t even glance at her, Wednesday knew she would sleep a wink, after her first wolf out and subsequent full transformation she slept very little. From what she knew it was just an Alpha evolutionary trait, it was so embedded in them to be hunted that to protect themselves and the very few creatures they usually deemed as ‘pack’ their system worked to actively give them chronic insomnia. 

It could be nice to be in a constant state of alarm.

Regardless, it would have to keep being a dream and nothing more. She fell unconscious in less than ten minutes, Enid’s warmth, never touching her directly but never far away, always did wonders to lull her into chaotic peacefulness. The last thing she felt was Enid gently picking her book from her hands and covering Wednesday with the odd grey hoodie she decided on that day. Sometimes she pretended she didn’t notice there were some specific days Enid chose to wear muted tones of greys and whites or even dark navy and aubergine. 

Enid smelled of pine wood and snow and the faint scent of death every single Addams family member had. The Alpha claimed it was just their pack bond and she herself had a little pine in her usual scent.

Wednesday woke up with the plane jostling and a tight pressure on her hand, she wished to sigh and merely go back to sleep, there was almost nothing more soothing than turbulence but the pinpricks on the back of her hand were too much to ignore – not because it hurt but for what it meant.

“The plane will not fall, Enid,” she found herself saying, sleepaddled voice so gentle that, if she were more conscious, she would retch. “It’s built to withstand it.”

“I know,” she growled, tightening her hold. “It’s like jelly.”

That got Wednesday to open her eyes, a raised eyebrow of confusion. 

“Do I even want to know?” 

She looked at Enid. Noted her grip, claws out and everything, on the armrest and her scrunched eyes, fangs almost breaking the tender skin – Wednesday was guessing – of her bottom lip. Enough time had passed since their first meeting that Wednesday could admit she was worried.

“It is just turbulence, Enid. Things will be normal in a few seconds, at most a couple of minutes.”

She tried. She really did. Even after everything, the whole comforting people thing wasn't something that came naturally to her. Wednesday knew she would never be warm and maybe one day Enid would realize that, but for now, she settled on holding her friend's hand and hoping it was enough to get through this time of distress.

Wednesday wanted to note, would do it if she could just grab her bag and reach her little notebook, how interesting it was for Enid to have lived through hell and yet be scared of something so mundane. Then again, her werewolf abilities wouldn't do much against free falling from more than thirty thousand feet up.

True to her word it did pass in less than a full minute and finally, the nails on her skin slackened. Enid took a deep breath, and opened her eyes, her brain seemed to scan her surroundings and decide everything was as it should be. Then she let go entirely, a little fear stricken look in her paler than usual face.

“Oh my god, I'm so sorry, Weds. I know you don't like–” she started and Wednesday knew where this was going so she just raised her hand, the one with small beads of blood starting to form. Her neck felt stiff and aching, it was pleasant.

“Stop. It's okay,” Enid took a single look at her hand and horror dawned on her already panicked eyes. Wednesday wanted to bang her head on a wall. “Shut up, it isn't nearly as bad as it might look, nothing more than a small flesh wound if I even want to insult them and put shame in their designation. It doesn't hurt in the slightest. If you apologize again I will personally open this window and throw you out of it.”

Enid's lips wobbled once, twice and then settled into a small, grateful smile. No teeth. Such a shame.

“Okay,” she breathed out and steeled herself, almost as if nothing had happened at all. She was good at that. “We only have like…forty minutes to go.”

“Good to know. When we get there the car Father arranged for us will already be settled and ready for taking, I trust you have excelled in your lessons otherwise either I drive or this will be our last trip…for a while, maybe.”

Enid rolled her eyes and bumped Wednesday's shoulder gently with hers. 

“Okay, drama queen. One, I'm a very good driver, thank you very much and two, there's no way in hell I'll ever let you get behind a wheel,” she shivered. The audacity of calling Wednesday dramatic was baffling. “I like my life.”

Wednesday chose to not even dignify that with an answer and averted her eyes to the opened window just behind Enid, they would arrive in the middle of the night. Thankfully. At the very least it wouldn't be hot at this time of the year, she would have to actually murder their killer if it were.

Enid giggled and really, it had been a while since she started to actually enjoy that sound. Months upon months of not hearing it did make her note its absence. The world was quiet when Enid was and speaking from four months of experience and the time it took for her to gather herself into some shape of her former self – a more mature and maybe a tad more melancholic version of herself. But one nonetheless. – Wednesday didn’t like it one bit.

The loneliness that followed the hollow of silence was felt deep in the thing she sometimes didn’t believe to be beating in the first place. She still remembered the bone deep relief she felt when seeing the wolf with the dried streaks on its head.

Wednesday took another look at Enid, just to make sure she was there and closed her eyes again. She wouldn’t sleep, not again, but it was nice to shut down the world for a little while.

They had to drive for about forty minutes to get to their hotel on the outskirts of Barcelona. It was better than directly residing where they were going to investigate.

They drove mostly in silence. The airport had been full and the sheer amount of interaction they had to have to grab the car at the rental was mentally draining. Wednesday didn't know how her father made it so they could have it when she was barely eighteen and Enid turned nineteen only a few months before. But she would remember letting him hug her for a couple seconds the next time they saw each other.

Wednesday was thankful Enid paid attention when her father insisted on teaching her Spanish. Something or other about her being part of them and, as such, deserving of the very same education. At least she wouldn't have to work as a translator.

It also helped that Enid talked enough for the both of them. She looked out of the corner of her eyes whenever she wanted Wednesday's input and that was it. The clerk didn't ask too much, thankfully, with the amount she was paying for that room they better not, anyway.

Regardless, it was three in the morning and Wednesday wanted to wake up early. She still didn't know how to even start looking, all she had were the information her cousin gathered from the community. Maybe they would have to start there, setting up interviews and threatening them to not say anything.

The last thing they needed was a call to the cops.

She watched as Enid opened the door to their room and settled their things down before throwing herself on the farthest bed. She wouldn't sleep until Wednesday did and maybe that was why she hurried through her night routine. Having a functional werewolf was a big part of this investigation.

Wednesday laid down ready to sleep and the second her arm touched the bed cover her spine snapped straight, head thrown back painfully and a small breath leaving her nose. The last thing she felt were strong hands keeping her from falling.

“Sofia, calm down! It’s fine!” 

Wednesday managed to move her stiff neck from her place on the bed. It had been a good while since she used her psychic abilities, she felt unused to it. There was a woman, dark brown hair, tan skin and bigger build. Her looks were above-average. Rapid Spanish. Accent thick, not from Spain itself, maybe Colombia. 

They were in the same hotel, unnamed the woman got one of the individual rooms. Maybe Wednesday got lucky enough to have the same comforter as this stranger. 

“I know…” A sigh, her hands ran through her hair.

Wednesday huffed, going back to mindless, senseless, useless visions after mastering her craft made frustration bubble in her bloodstream. 

“It’s fine, I’m telling you,” she laughed. “I know him! We talked on Twi–” a knock on the door. “He’s here, bye,” was the last thing she whispered before opening the door.

A figure, not that tall, maybe 5’7, common clothes and long hair. Wednesday couldn’t see their face properly, it was obscured by a large hat. The woman’s confusion was clear but she could barely get a word out before a gun was pointed at her chest.

“Move slow. We’re friends. You’re happy,” the person hissed. Too deep to certainly belong to a woman and too high to be a man’s. Oddly androgenous, if not for the sandals.

The woman’s phone was snatched from her hand before she could do anything more than whimper and nod. They didn’t have cameras in the room, Wednesday noted, that would be a problem.

She blinked and flashes assaulted her eyes. A crow, a scalpel, some rabid dogs, the laughter of a child and something else, a mix between a playground and a surgical room. White. Then she was back, watching those two.

They left the room and Wednesday was violently thrown back into her own body.

Her eyes opened slowly. This sort of vision, erratic, sudden, quick always got her confused, a little lost on the come down and a tad too pissed. They usually told more than they should and always did it in a way Wednesday couldn’t understand until it happened or until she got the full picture. 

She scanned the room, the layout was very similar. If she was properly scaling things it was the same distance between the mini fridge and balcony, bathroom and front door and dresser and bed. The design is intentional to make it clinical enough clients wouldn’t forget where they are but cozy – if she dared to utter such a word – enough to “make it feel like home”. Smart choices.

Wednesday was laying on her back, tucked in on the bed and with her hands crossed above her chest. The lights were dimmed, only an abajour on the far end of the room turned on to not allow her to force her eyes. She sighed. Not in displeasure.

She couldn’t see Enid anywhere but noticed the steam leaving the gap of the bathroom door, her fingers trying to massage her neck and shoulders the best she could. In the year she spent powerless she unwittingly got her body unused to such displays. The last one she had was before finding–

Her train of thought was lost when the bathroom door opened and Enid stepped out of the steam, hair wet and brushed, face red and less tension on her shoulders. She called Enid beautiful in her mind more than once, and usually she hated the thinly veiled reverence and fondness the compliment usually carried but she could not mind less, not when it came to Enid. Not when the only words to describe her always derived from that one.

“Are you okay?” Enid asked, in a quiet voice, almost gentle. She had learned that fretting did nothing when it came to Wednesday’s visions, all she could do was to not let her hit her head and wait. “No headache?”

“Just a dull throbbing,” she found herself answering automatically, half of her mind still trying to compute and process what she saw.

“Okay…and what did you see?”

Wednesday, for once, thought of how to make the dismissal she knew she would utter a little more lighter, a little sweeter. She was still reluctant about sharing her visions, her Mother once said they were fickle…anything could change an outcome, even when it came to the past. 

Maybe something showed in her impassive face, she still didn’t know how exactly her friend could read her so well. She had stood in front of a mirror and made sure nothing ever showed, it didn’t make sense. Because after a few seconds it followed with an annoyed huff and Enid throwing her towel on her bed to sit on Wednesday’s.

“Okay,” she started, voice almost in a growl. “Tell me one time when you hid your visions from me and it worked?”

To be very clear, Wednesday tried. 

Her eyes averted to the floor and she remembered the pilgrim, Laurel, the hyde…s, Enid’s almost death, the bodyswap. 

“Well…you didn’t die,” her voice came out as flat as usual, but there was a small breadth of air there that showcased her shame and maybe Enid noticed it, her body shifted a little closer, classic move for someone as tactile as she to try to comfort but recalling her companion wasn’t one for touch.

She scoffed nonetheless. “You really wanna go there?”

For the record, Wednesday was not scared of Enid. That would be ridiculous, her friend was a puppy most of the time, snarky and with a mean bite but a puppy regardless. Enid would rather lose an arm than hurt Wednesday, that much she was well aware of, people didn’t sacrifice themselves if they planned on hurting the object of their devotion afterwards. 

So the way her heart raced and her stomach moved, acidic fluid making her queasy, was not fear. It was something else, maybe deep rooted in logic, that made her relent, made her see that Enid was right and she wasn’t as fragile as she was when they first met – she already wasn’t fragile then, not in every sense of the world, just easily spooked and a little too squeamish. 

She turned her head to look at Enid again, the way her eyes sharpened and her jaw locked made her look more feline than ever and Wednesday strangely felt her mouth drier than a desert. It was probably just the juxtaposition of everything, the blue and pink hair mixed with a piercing stare and the most intimidation she could probably project, maybe a gift of her Alpha wolf.

“I don’t know,” she ended up almost spitting out. “It didn’t make sense.”

“Try,” Enid deadpanned. Then she breathed out and her shoulders slackened. “Listen, we can make sense of it together, right? Two brains work better than one?”

Wednesday paused, the logic was sound. Enid had some type of intelligence she lacked, maybe that could help and on the chance that it made things worse they could probably handle it together. Probably.

“If your brain is working…” she tried. The end of it had a little lilt, a replicated pattern to show she was joking. Enid understood it, she always did, her jaw opened and she slapped the bed, a laugh bubbling out of her throat. “Can you get the files on my bag? I just need the photos.”

Enid did as told and spread the pictures on the bed, she had printed them after hacking into the police’s system. Something she learned with Agnes and a few too many online courses, insomnia was truly her worst enemy and her best friend. One of the very few utilities technology had.

Wednesday looked at the face of the victims, they all resembled the girl from the vision but none of them were her. If she was skinny she could be the one on the right corner, if she was fatter she could be the one on bottom left, if her skin was a tiny bit darker the one stark in the middle. This was as frustrating as it was enlightening. Their killer’s type was already obvious, this just proved it further, but all their victims were outcasts and that girl…Wednesday wasn't sure.

“There was a woman,” she found herself saying. “Same pattern but she’s not here.”

“You think it’s one of our girls?” Enid gently asked, already grabbing and opening her computer. She had learned to stop doubting Wednesday’s vision in their second year together; it was still weird to be taken seriously. 

“I do not have enough evidence to outright affirm anything…” she hesitated a little, hoping – as much as she dared – her gut did not lead her astray this time. 

“I trust you,” was all Enid said, nodding at her and with a conviction Wednesday herself saved only for the most obvious of facts.

“I think she is.”

Enid repeated her previous motion and started typing, faster than Wednesday deemed possible, even in her typewriter. Enid’s fingers were surprisingly dextrous. The process wasn’t as fancy as people in the stupid tv shows she was forced to watch made it seem, Enid could do it that fast because she did it before and as long as they didn’t alter anything the system wouldn’t be alerted of the invasion. At least that was what Agnes had explained. Enid allowed her to help on this part on the weekends and as long as she proved her homework was done.

Enid moved closer to her, their shoulders almost touching. Wednesday caught herself wishing they did, what a strange thing, but the pressure was always nice. She moved the computer enough for Wednesday to see the screen and started slowly moving the cursor down, they could see countless brunettes. Wednesday was not a religious person in the slightest, but she hoped they passed on with ease.

“I filtered the best I could, Agnes is better at this than I am, but if you see her…”

Wednesday just watched, thoroughly analyzing each one of them and conveniently noting how the ones on her bed were all cold cases, either deemed as unsolvable or outright forgotten. Most of the other outcasts had the very same status. Tsk. Normies were the same everywhere. 

Then she saw it. 

Colombian. She fucking knew it.

“There.”

“Beatriz Vargas Ortiz Moreno,” Enid read, her American accent thick, oddly…endearing? “22. Normie. COD: inconclusive? Huh?”

“How long?”

“A year ago…that’s weird…dismembered post mortem– oh my god, I’m gonna throw up.”

Wednesday felt something click in her head. The woman had her face striped off, they couldn’t find a single clue on who did it. It was like she had been abducted and randomly put back in an alley near a bar. 

Same M.O, same victim type, about four months before the outcasts abduction and murders started happening. She was older than the others, only three or four years to some of them.

“That’s our first, then,” Wednesday muttered to herself.

“Yeah,” Enid still gagged, her fingers scrambling to change the picture to the one used in the funeral, a happy, alive Beatriz. “It’s weird, though, was she tortured? The others seemed fine.”

Did they?

Wednesday grabbed the manila folder they had and shared a single glance with Enid, the one that told her to steel herself. The spread of the pictures was intentional, the ones from the morgue and the normal ones side by side. 

Five in total, counting with the new one.

Top Right. Júlia Castro, 19. Green witch. Chilean. COD: blood loss.

Brown eyes, black hair, crooked teeth, full lips. Skin of her face missing, the edges of the cut just below her jaw showing signs of decay but no bruising. Done post mortem.

Top Left. Emilia Zacarias Castillo, 21. Gorgon. Spanish. COD: Blood loss.

Brown eyes, brown hair, freckles. The snakes on top of her scalp were cut and the wounds cauterized, going only with the pictures, Wednesday could guess they were done with surgical precision. Very same cut on her jaw, no bruising. Traces of Neuromuscular blocking agents, unspecified in the report.

Likely to hinder her ability to stone the killer before the snakes were cut and after to keep her from moving too much without restraints.

Middle. Carla Alves Magalhães, 20. Werewolf. Brazilian. COD: silver poisoning.

Brown eyes, dark brown skin, dimples. The cut on her jaw left a ragged, likely healed and hurt over and over again, gnarly looking scar. The skin of her face was poorly scarred, patchy at best, some muscle still visible. Ligature marks on both her wrists, ankles and stomach, likely restrained with silver chains. Explained her weakness in a situation where a wolf would do anything to survive. Trace amounts of wolfsbane in her blood, hindering energy, strength and healing.

Bottom left. Emma Durant Sanchez, 18. Vampire. Born Canadian, raised in Spain. Missing as of three days before.

Brown eyes, full lips, tan skin. Last seen on her way back from art class in Sant Cugat del Valles. She stepped out of a bus, took a turn on the corner of her street and merely vanished. Police stated they were looking for her but Wednesday doubted it was genuine.

And apparently so did her parents. Her cousin said they were fully on board with helping regardless of legality, all they want is their daughter back and Wednesday could almost commiserate with that. They were supposed to talk to the family by the morning.

She breathed out.

One more victim. A normie.

She could cross ‘hate crime’ off her list of motives. Wednesday bit the inside of her cheek.

The bodies were all in their home countries, most of them already buried. It would be impossible for her to analyze them in fullness and come back before their last victim was dead. She, personally, didn't have the need to save the girl, but she could see Enid did.

It was in the fiery determination inside her eyes, the way she looked at their pictures and tightened her jaw as if feeling their pain on her own person. Wednesday used to think this was the biggest weakness Enid had, now…seeing how that was fuel for action, she wasn't so sure.

Wednesday sighed and started gathering the pictures again. She would make the additions to her notebook when time was due, once again, she needed Enid being functional. Especially if they were about to talk to people, grief stricken people, she still wasn't good at that.

“Go to sleep, Enid. We leave tomorrow morning.”

𓌜

Enid.

Tears.

Blood. Whose?

“You can’t do this to me!”

A cry. A sob. A Plea.

“You promised!”

Begging. Begging. Begging.

“You said–”

Choked out. Gargling. It scratched and burned.

Was it her? She couldn't feel anything.

Couldn't see anything.

The voice was twisted. Her psychic eye uncertain on who was speaking.

“We– You promised…you said we'd grow old together…”

Resignation?

Need?

Desperation?

“Please!”

Hope?

Defeat?

There was no oxygen in the face of it. No life.

Was she dead?

Was Enid?

Future? Past?

It could be someone else.

Was it?

A name. Yelled as if underwater. Impossible to understand, to distinguish. It could be hers. It could not be.

𓌜

Wednesday woke up with a gasp.

She would say that had been an awfully timed dream, maybe she could even consider it as nightmarish as the one she had at seven years old that made her run to her parents room for the first time in her existence – to this day, she shivered whenever those colorful ponies appeared in her camp of vision.

Unfortunately, however, she couldn't deem that as mere fruit of her imagination. It was too real, the viscous wetness of blood in her hands, the fear deep in the marrow of her bones, the confusion lingering in her mind. 

It was all too disorienting.

A growl came from her left. Tiny and sleepy. 

Wednesday breathed.

Everything was fine.

This one…she would keep from Enid. 

She got out of bed slowly, moving quietly to make sure Enid's newly found sensitive sleep wasn't disturbed. She used the small stripe of streetlight coming through the window to note everything down in a small journal specific for her vision. It was a miracle she brought it, maybe Thing snuck it into her bag. 

She did not miss him.

But his absence was particularly noted from the moment she allowed him to stay behind. Someone had to keep an eye on Pugsley, after all.

She finished and snapped it closed almost fully silently. Her eyes averted from the window to Enid's bed.

After her transformation, Enid had acquired one funny sleeping habit. Much less bothersome than her teeth grinding or her incessant growling. Wednesday looked down, scanning her body beneath the duvet and there it was, her twitchy left leg. She could compare it to a dog, but Enid probably wouldn't appreciate it.

It moved as if she dreamed of chasing prey and ripping them to shreds. Wednesday envied her subconscious.

She sighed. 

The sun was starting to come up. 

What a dreadful prospect.

“Right,” Enid slammed the front door. ”Are sure that's the address?”

”Why wouldn't it be?”

“Dunno, they're vampires…a girl's allowed to have some expectations,” she muttered.

Wednesday understood it, a little. For a vampiric family, and though their place was in the suburbs, it was quite strange for them to be living somewhere so…normal? Cheap? Maybe.

“If I am not mistaken, there is no such a thing as the Sanchez clan. Nothing properly stated as are the Tanaka's or the Ardzrouni. From what cousin Angoisse has told me, the man was from a small vampiric community here in Spain and moved to Canada to study, then he met his now wife and they moved back due to family issues,” she relayed. “They do not have connections like some vampires do. Both were turned. Her during the pregnancy. Neither are remotely close to a century old yet.”

Enid bit her bottom lip. Fingers nervously thrumming on the wheel.

“So it'll be okay if I come in with you? Cool, cool, cool,” she almost whispered, voice half air in anxiety.

“Why wouldn't it be?”

She laughed, not really amused, just in sheer disbelief.

“The war? Colonization?” She spat out ironically enough and Wednesday tilted her head. 

Of course, she had read about those and knew some of the older vampires could very much hold grudges as could older packs like the Sinclairs themselves or Pack Ong in South Korea. But she had seen in the Addams family records at least three marriages between the vampiric branch of the family and werewolves from smaller packs in the last three hundred years alone.

She relayed as much to Enid whose eyebrows raised to her scalp in sheer surprise. Wednesday furrowed hers, as far as she was aware, there had been no pushback on those, if there were her father wouldn't stop talking about love winning against adversity or something equally nauseating.

“It’s the clan,” she muttered. “It must be. You Addams are too weird, too…kooky…no one wants to mess with things they can't understand. My mom passed out on the call when I told her who was going to be my new roommate…And I didn't understand at the time, now I do."

Wednesday pondered for a little while. She liked that explanation. Liked it a lot more than the love-addled one her parents would enjoy retelling and reenacting, for emphasis. Coming to think of it, that also must have been the reason why the court had been much more lenient with Enid.

Still…

“Do you find me spooky, Enid?” She asked, voice flat, eyes locked on her friend's face. 

She expected maybe blanching, maybe sweat, definitely some sort of panic. She should have known better.

Enid giggled.

“You never have, silly!” The little lilt in her voice reminded Wednesday of sophomore year. Too happy, too bright, too fake. Almost manic. Enticingly on purpose. “I always knew you were a softie!”

Wednesday recoiled, something in Enid's expression made her want to look away. Her eyes averted to the road and she cleared her throat as quietly as possible.

“What does Tanaka have to do with anything,” a demand.

A choked laugh came from her left but died down just as quickly.

“I mean,” Enid took a sharp turn right. “Why do you think people only bullied me– like…subtly?”

Her eyes snapped back to Enid, searching for something…anything that could give away what exactly had happened. 

“You were bullied?” 

Wednesday's heart did a weird thing, the mix of rage and some other feeling she refused to name but it was the same thing she felt when Pugsley had been through that. Bitter regret on her tongue for not noticing, for not doing anything.

“For…two weeks? I think. They could tell I couldn't wolf out yet, you know? My scent was weird…hollow, dull,” her grip tightened on the wheel and Wednesday's blood boiled. In their junior year Enid had spent so much time trying to win her bullies over? “But then Yoko and I became friends. And she threatened them.”

Wednesday almost scoffed. A brief huff of air from her nose was enough.

“Wednesday…before us, the furs and the fangs did not interact at all. Teachers knew not to pair us on assignments and Weems knew we couldn't be roommates. Ever,” she glanced at Wednesday, seriousness dawned on her face before she smirked a little. Insincere but not mean, never mean, not with her. “It was like the Romeo and Juliet of friendships.”

Wednesday rolled her eyes. “Except none of you committed suicide. A shame.”

Enid just clicked her tongue.

“They stopped bullying me, because a vampire from the Tanaka clan threatened to start a war over me. That's what would happen if she touched any of those wolves. The peace is fragile at most, more like a cease fire.”

Wednesday hummed. That could be dangerous. Although…Enid had no pack, not a formal one, a pure one. Did that make her more vulnerable or did it give her a bigger leeway?

“You are scared of disturbing it,” a statement.

“I am,” she admitted, softly. “What they taught us…it was terrible, Weds.”

“A war is never pretty,” she claimed. Part of her wondered what Yoko, goofy and snarky Yoko, had endured. Part of her did not want to know at all. “You will stay in the car and I will ask them if it is okay.”

“Thank you for understanding,” Enid breathed out in relief. Wednesday wondered just how much she had to think about the political ramifications of anything she did.

She just nodded and pointed at the street the couple lived on. She could see the house exactly as described, big, dark brown and with an obvious eerie atmosphere around it. Wednesday liked it.

The father was waiting for them on the doorstep. Body covered from the sun by the roof, strategically poised to make himself intimidating. Wednesday understood, Enid squeezed the headrest behind her to prevent her from rising to the challenge.

Wednesday clicked her tongue but followed along. When it came to people, she decided to trust Enid, if they needed to use the parents then Wednesday would make sure nothing could hinder the process.

She stepped out as silently as possible, sure the man could hear her heart beat and the blood rushing through her veins. Vampires were always interesting to deal with. She refused to speak first.

Wednesday stopped in front of him, hands  pockets, fidgeting with the blades hidden there and stared. Her heart rate slowed at will, from a healthy fifty five to a nice forty two beats per minute. Whatever happened, he had to know she was no human.

He smirked, pleasant surprise obvious in his eyes and the air around him lightened. 

“Ah…an Addams, indeed,” he muttered, consciously loud enough for her to hear, voice low and rich, a poor mimicry of comfort. Then he turned his back, a show of trust, calculated, cold. “Come in. Tell your mutt to clean her shoes.”

Wednesday stood there as Enid left the car and locked it, not moving an inch. She was too smart to enter a vampire’s den without additional surveillance.

Enid defiantly made a show of cleaning her soles on the rug before the door. The man chuckled, perhaps he found mirth in the mindless rebellion of the youth.

Wednesday wanted to note their reaction to a missing daughter was defensively aggressive at most, she had expected a little more meaningless tears or maybe some show of desperation. 

At least she knew precisely how to deal with this.

He led them though the living room and Wednesday silently counted and memorized the windows. She could feel Enid behind her, like a guard. What comforted her the most was knowing there was no ounce of silver in this household. 

They got to a sitting room. He pointed at some armchairs, Wednesday sat. Enid refused to be anywhere other than standing right behind her. He raised an eyebrow at that but didn't comment, Wednesday could tell he wanted to. 

His wife descended the stairs with regal grace, it reminded her of Morticia, only a little more forced. Wednesday could tell her steps were awfully measured, her dress dragged on behind her, her eyes scanned the visitors and locked on Enid's for a second.

Recognition and at last a look to her husband as she came to sit by his side. Wednesday saw it then, the quiet despair, the silent need. That had been what she was looking for.

“What do you need to know?” The woman asked, her voice shaky but not cracking, her Spanish lightly accented. 

Wednesday refrained from speaking but pulled out her notebook, her pen already on paper. A hand gently rested on the chair frame above her head.

“Who her friends were. What she liked. For whom would she deviate from her way home,” Enid said, calm and steady, it reminded her of the court.

“She didn't have many,” the man started. “There were these twins from school…a boy and a girl, they were inseparable but they've been visiting family in France for the semester.”

“She–” the woman started but had to clear her throat, the lump quite obvious in her voice. “She volunteered. At the children's hospital…the one on Career de Solá.”

“Pretty far, huh?” Enid off handedly mentioned.

“Yes…” the woman chuckled. “She liked it best there. Said the kids needed something light…she was– is such a bright girl.”

“We’ll do our best to find her, ma'am,” Enid said it so confidently, there was something about her voice, oozing confidence that set a sense of ease in the room so overpowering, the man’s shoulder relaxed. 

“We trained her,” he stated. “She’s too good at noticing what’s around her…can’t be caught by surprise.”

Wednesday perked up at that. Before leaving, she asked Agnes to properly look into every person the victims had contact with prior to six weeks before the abductions, she had yet to text back but knowing it wasn’t a stranger jumping pre-selected women who fit their type on alleyways made everything easier in more than one way.

A pause. Then…

“Can I have one of her shirts? A dirty one would be best,” Enid watched as they assimilated her request, a little ah leaving the mother’s lips.

“Do you think you can smell her with so many…stimuli around?” He asked, a little dubious look on his face. Wednesday could very much tell him Enid’s abilities were around five or six times more developed than other wolves. But she remained silent, a single twitch in her left eye denounced her wrath.

“It’s very much possible…more so to be able to get the main notes so we can have a guide.”

The rest of the conversation involved a lot more sentimentality than Wednesday could remember or care about, Enid reassured them again and again that they would do their best but there couldn’t be guarantees. As of right now, they worked as private investigators who had no contact whatsoever with the police force.

They left in silence, Enid had been excited to have lunch in one of those quaint restaurants somewhere around. Wednesday looked at her notebook again.

“The Hospital,” was the only thing she said.

“I know,” Enid sighed. “I kinda don’t wanna believe a children’s hospital volunteer could do this.”

“I am sorry to burst your optimism infested bubble, but some of the worst abusers, pedophiles, rapists and murderers actively contribute to society in a way that would make them the least suspicious. Charity is merely one of the many ways they can effectively achieve that. It is one of the reasons, besides religious delusion, why preachers and priests' accusations of heinous crimes take so long to be taken seriously or be held accountable, if they ever are,” Wednesday stated. She could have spewed out statistics but the droop of Enid’s shoulders was enough for her not to.

“I hate that,” she breathed out. “Well…at least there no signs of like– sexual assault, right?”

“Not that we have seen,” Wednesday stated and Enid breathed out in relief. “The lower body was untouched, as were intimate areas and any other possible erogenous zone. Except for the face. The ligature marks on the legs seemed to be done merely to avoid them from trashing around or to keep them together, not to spread.”

“Do people even have a face kink?” Enid wondered out loud. 

“I will refrain from entertaining that question for my own already declining sanity."

“Boo! You’re no fun!” Enid emphasized that with a thumb down in her general direction. Eyes on the road.

Wednesday rolled her eyes. She had tried to stop the muscle in her cheek from pulling up, begging for her to let go of the tightly wound grip on the corner of her lips. They remained impassive as ever.

“So it's a woman?” Enid asked as she started parking. Wednesday did not care for the way she managed to do it perfectly with one hand, body turning back to see properly.

“Perphaps. I crossed out attraction and sexual deviancy. If anything, the patterns and state of the bodies seem to resemble more Laurel than any other serial killer I have studied,” she refrained from saying his name. Sometimes she still shuddered in disgust whenever she remotely thought about the way she had been manipulated.

Enid groaned. “Not another evil Frankenstein’s monster.”

“I do not know if the killings have anything to do with defying death and the arrogance of men perpetuated by misogyny…amongst other things like grief, rage and the effects of postpartum depression decidedly projected onto the male figure of someone who tried to hard to emulate godhood,” Wednesday pointedly stated. “On a more practical note, none of our victims were missing a limb.”

𓌜

Agnes texted while they were eating.

A single document with all they could need and short Tell Enid to send me Prof. Rubrick’s old exams please! 

She thanked the first one, yes, she was getting better at remembering that and ignored the second message completely. If Agnes wanted to cheat on her applied math tests she had to do it with her own resources, it didn’t matter if that man was more technology averse than Wednesday herself.

She quickly scanned through it.

Too many people. 

The girl was thorough. 

“So,” Enid started, mid chewing. “We just gotta find the common link, right? That's how they do it on TV.”

“Yes. But that doesn't give us any guarantees on anything. You should stop trying to base real life on poorly written fiction made to sell an image of cops and federal agents to delude the watchers into thinking they are good people...And to somehow entertain lonely housewives.”

“And I think you should stop disrespecting the Olivia Benson like that,” Enid spat out.

Wednesday just rolled her eyes.

Her plain pasta had been forgotten in favor of scrolling slowly, trying to see any possibility of a murderer there, it could be anyone at all and it also, as she claimed to Enid, could be someone else entirely. Then she froze.

Enid choked down her food.

“What?”

“Julia Casto was…mutual followers with Beatriz on three different social media sites,” her eyebrows furrowed, eyes snapping forward. “Can we see when they started following each other?”

Enid frowned, body swaying lightly backwards. She swallowed her food.

“I’ll need my computer but I think I can.”

“What the…” Enid muttered.

Wednesday raised her eyes, all of their victims somehow followed each other. It had been dismissed as a coincidental connection since some of their interests in music and tv shows overlapped. But she seethed knowing that if they were normies, the barely there effort would have been doubled.

Enid turned the computer to allow her to face the screen.

Beatriz started following Julia a week before her reported abduction. They talked the entire time, commenting on each other’s posts and even tagging each other on posts. Beatriz’s date of death had been two months earlier.

Julia followed Emilia in a video based platform. She was the first to comment on every video and their interactions all seemed based on some sort of admiration. It started three days after the witch’s body had been dumped in a bar alley trashcan. 

Emilia started following and interacting with Carla on another site and they played games together for about a month. Emilia had been the one starting their sessions and even calling her to play. It started two weeks after the abduction.

Lastly, Carla started talking to Emma in a private chat about where to find the clothes she usually posted herself with, they had scheduled to meet on a weekend from now to go shopping together. It started a day before Carla’s reported date of passing.

“I…I’m trying to track Emma’s IP address, at least we’ll know her phone is. They must be preparing themselves to look for another victim,” Enid bit her bottom lip. The pattern dictated another few weeks of captivity but if they started to get desperate then it could be worrisome. “God, this should be so much easier.”

Wednesday clicked her tongue. “What exactly about the concept of catching a serial killer screams ‘easy pastime’ for you?” Enid opened her mouth. “And if you mention the, again, unrealistic shows you watch or the overtly exaggerated and dramatized comic books you seem to enjoy instead of reading real books, I will throw you out of that window.”

Enid just closed her mouth and rolled her eyes.

“I do read books, by the way,” she muttered. Her fingers went back to typing.

Wednesday watched her, again…her scars seemed to glow under the room’s light and the mercury of her computer’s screen. She had been glad when Enid stopped covering them up, even if the reminder that her friend had put herself in such a life threatening situation because of her, her hubris, her innocence and her lack of good planning, sent her stomach lurching and not even in a way she could remotely enjoy.

Her own scar, the horrid scar on her own stomach – purposefully ripped every time it healed during vacation and now looking entirely too ragged – burned at the mere memory of it. She had made it that way to serve as a reminder to never let herself get stringed around by someone else again, that her feelings, if she had any, were supposed to be her own and no one would know how to define them better than her. That a random boy’s mistaken interpretation of them didn’t make her the manipulator.

“This is kinda weird, isn’t it?” Enid wondered aloud. Wednesday hummed, low in her throat, almost inaudible if it were not for her friend’s werewolf abilities. “That they spent so long with the girls and there’s no proof of torture. They were even well fed!”

She pondered. It was awfully strange, she had been questioning herself about that since her cousin called.

“We do not know that,” Wednesday said, a small sigh of, maybe frustration in her lips. “I would need to see the corpses to affirm anything with certainty.” Even if they weren’t all in different countries, it would be hard. The book she had been reading came to mind; In Spain bodies are so swiftly sent off sepultura or incinerar that they are rarely embalmed [...] they only perform full embalming on bodies that are being transported to a different part of Spain or out of the country.

So even if she wanted…if she found where their only corpse in Spain was buried, if she found where Emilia was and managed to not get caught grave digging, there wouldn’t be much there for her to see. From the way the body parts were separated, it almost looked professional. Almost. There was something missing that Wednesday couldn’t quite figure out.

Then she licked her lips and kept talking. “From the photos, at least three of the four have some sort of muscular atrophy in the extremities of their bodies. But the reports do show mostly our victims being, all in all, well-treated. It is awfully unusual.”

Enid put the computer down. Wednesday could see the loading page, having to wait now was torture. She wasn’t a patient person at all. Every minute they stayed there was a second more that a serial killer was roaming free and doing hell knew what to a missing girl, a girl their age.

“I mean…just the faces…why would they take so long to just get the faces?”

Wednesday touched her index below her jaw, teeth tearing a little the skin of the inner part of her cheek.

“Imagery referencing faces is not something new. Pirandello talks about the human being as a masked individual, five of the masks are for public display and one only they could ever get to know. If the killer was trying to make societal commentary on it, the taking of the faces could very much be their way of showcasing these masks in their most expressive form, seeing as some believe the person’s truest form comes in the face of death.”

“Yeah, but they didn’t make it public,” Enid pointed out. 

Wednesday nodded. Though she understood the appeal of making such a statement to oneself, it would be impossible to prove a point to society and keep it hidden at the same time. 

“Right…so, it’s not an allegory, not a sex thing, not a race thing…” Enid once again spoke, voice almost desperate. 

Wednesday knew she was worried for the girl, and had half a mind to try to force a vision out the duvet, the fickleness of them made her not follow through. There was no indication it would even work, maybe it was time she genuinely accepted the inevitable when it came to her powers – her mother’s help.

With the confusing dream-vision she had the past night, she would perhaps need it. Should maybe ask for it in the first place, Morticia wouldn’t just offer it, even if she knew, she had always taught Wednesday to go after whatever she wanted.

What a terrible, terrible, thing.

Enid’s computer pinged. Wednesday felt like the knowledge of the motive was just out of reach, the words on the tip of her tongue but regardless of the amount of languages she spoke, they just couldn’t arrange themselves in a way she could understand. Her subconscious screamed at the obviousness of it all and she felt herself going insane with it.

“Oh! I found it!” The hope in her voice, in the way her eyes brightened, made Wednesday regret bringing her at all, the knowledge that it could – it would – be dashed at some point, in some case, made her chest clench painfully. It was better when Enid was bright. “It’s in…a café?”

Wednesday furrowed her eyebrows.

“Where?”

“Ten minutes. Let’s go.”

Wednesday narrowed her eyes at the enthusiasm. 

“You want a drink,” a statement, not a question. Though after wolfing out for so long Enid’s palate changed a little, her love for criminally sweet and overtly caffeinated beverages had not diminished in the slightest.

“I want a drink. Yes.”

The place was almost empty, Enid had a little map on her phone showing the location they had to go. The little blue dot was just on the left and it didn’t take long for Wednesday to see a lilac rectangle in the middle of the decorative bushes. She pointed at it and Enid hid a frustrated noise but did it nonetheless.

Wednesday was about to redirect them inside when a body bumped on hers from behind and she went still, the tell tale electricity of a vision running through her spine and snapping her head back. She felt two hands holding her and then being ripped off in the very same second, a growl near her ear as she felt something else holding her.

𓌜

Wednesday could see the balloons and half eaten cake, a candle shaped like a 20 half melted on the table, apparently not many people had been there for that particular celebration. But there was a woman, she could guess a normie, caressing a younger faceless woman’s hair, gentle fingers touching ever so slightly, reminding Wednesday of her own mother.

The girl’s face – or the lack thereof – merely looked like a mask covering whatever trait could possibly show, but if Wednesday were better at reading people she could probably guess what she was feeling. The atmosphere was light and the decorations on the ceiling dropped almost perfectly.

“I have one more present for me, my girl,” the voice was the same she saw on the first vision. From the cadence to the pattern of speech. She sighed, wishing Enid hadn’t scared the girl off.

“Mama, you really don’t have to!” She giggled.

“Of course I do, silly!” It sounded forced, like she was trying to compensate for something. “But you can’t freak out okay?”

The girl nodded, oddly infantilized, perhaps too sheltered. Sometimes normie parents of outcast kids thought this type of thing made things better.

The woman led her daughter down a basement, murmuring in her ear all the while something that Wednesday really couldn’t understand. Until they reached a door, one the faceless probably didn’t know existed if she was understanding the gasp properly.

Then the mother opened the door and Wednesday felt her blood running cold. There was a body in the middle, it wasn’t Emma. Her eyes darted to some opened notes on a small table, a simple 

‘Vampires: 

Pros: durability; healing; adaptability; flexibility.

Cons: Skin disintegrates after disposing of the source; if I manage to make it work, it keeps some vampiric attributes like sensitivity to sun.

Conclusion: Acquire a new target.”

Her mouth dried. How had she not thought of that?

The daughter screamed, her hands shook. The poor girl seemed entirely too terrified. She looked at her mother, body trying to move away from her and Wednesday stared at the corpse in the center of the room, she couldn’t recognize her. The knowledge that if they didn’t act soon enough, another girl would be there made her hands go colder than usual – everything was intact except for the face, the eyes on its sockets and the mouth still with the teeth, it was perfectly detached and just waiting for its new owner. 

Wednesday had no idea how that operation would work anyway, not without severely damaging the girl to make her crevices accept the foreign members. The hole that her mother would have to cut on where her eyes should’ve been and how to connect the optic nerve to the attained eyeballs. It would’ve been interesting to study if she succeeded.

She took a single look into the girl’s horror-stricken form trying to comprehend how this was happening in the first place.

“M–mama?” Her voice was broken, gargled. She choked on the heavy title, the innocence of it tainted by the blood on the walls.

“You said you wanted to be normal, honey…I’m just giving you what you asked me for.”

The woman grabbed the girl’s arm to stop her from running and Wednesday blinked into awareness.

𓌜

Wednesday was leaning on the wall behind the café. Enid letting her lean on her body for support, fingers fiddling with Emma’s phone. The other hand taking a pastry to her mouth.

“Where’s the girl?” She spat out once her vision stopped swirling and she stopped feeling like she was about to throw up.

Enid tilted her head. “She left. Her friend’s a barista and her shift’s over, so the girl, Gabriela, ran out, something or other about waiting for her mom to come back from work and college work.”

She hissed, trying to move slowly and crack her joints on the way. 

“It’s her.”

Enid choked. “What? She was so kind, oh my god.”

“Not the girl. The mom. Gabriela doesn’t know…” a sigh, quiet and almost non-existent, preparing herself for her next words. “You were right.”

“Okay…one, you don't have to sound so surprised,” She raised a finger. Wednesday had deadpanned the statement as usual, she didn't get the joke there. “Two, so it is a sexual thing?”

“No. It's a mother trying to do a transplant on her faceless daughter.”

“Oh, fuck. It's Frankenstein's monster.”

Wednesday gritted her teeth. “Yes.”

Enid ran distressed fingers through her hair. Wednesday could not blame her, there was something about the thought of being a guinea pig for experimentation that made her feel slightly sick as well.

“I have her number,” Enid somberly stated. “She said she wanted to make more friends.”

“We need to go there. Emma will be in the basement, that's the Mother's lab.”

“Or, and hear me out, I can track her phone and we can free Emma without manipulating a cute girl and revealing to her that her mom has been killing people for her.” Enid did some stupid jazz hands and Wednesday just stared. “I mean…geez, talk about mommy issues.”

Wednesday reminded herself of midnight fights, their long lost matching snoods and a red duffle bag.

“We can go by morning. If she studies and her mother works we can wait for them to leave, it will be easier to sneak Emma out and avoid direct confrontation.”

Enid bit a fingernail. “What will we do with the mother?”

“Collect proof and talk to the cops,” Wednesday rolled her eyes, there was something always off about having to do that. “If they do nothing, I am sure the Durant Sanchez will love to deal with them.”

“Either way, Gabriela will know,” Enid wrangled her hands together. Wednesday seriously needed to talk to her about letting one's nervous tells be so obvious. 

“Do not sound so dejected. It's better for her to know and deal with it now than hide it and let her find out when she eventually decides to explore the basement and finds diagrams and studies there,” she shrugged diminuously. “It will also prevent her from adoring a serial killer. You know I cannot stand those people.”

“That’s kinda hypocritical.”

Wednesday glared at her, genuinely offended. “Do not compare me with the deranged lunatics who send letters with their underwear for them in jail.”

“I don’t think she’d do that for her mother,” Enid pointed out.

“Mostly because if we don’t act, she won’t even be alive for it. I doubt the operation would be successful.

The first part of the night was spent in quiet contemplation.

Wednesday started working on a new chapter of her novel. Now that she knew exactly what was going on, all they had to do was wait. 

“You said you wanted to be normal, honey.” 

She wondered what happened for things to get to that point. Maybe bullying, maybe it was just something a frustrated teenager had said. Wednesday usually had no thoughts of children and family of killers, it was maybe the first time she genuinely wondered how that girl would live the rest of her life.

“Oh!” Enid suddenly exclaimed, she said she wanted them to have complete information of what they were about to get into and started convening with Agnes after updating her blog. She had been quiet until then.

Wednesday hummed. Eyes unmoving from her typewriter but ears always trained on her.

“The mom…Antonia Maria Cervantes, looks just like our victims,” she breathed out.

Wednesday turned around and indeed, Antonia had suntanned skin, brown eyes, the same shade of dark brown hair as her daughter and full lips. She had decided to make her daughter her image, how egocentric.

“She wants a mini me,” Agnes' voice piped from the computer.

Wednesday looked at the screen to see her face, she missed the kid, oddly enough. Her fifteenth birthday was coming up, Enid would never forgive her if they didn’t do anything about it. 

“Do we know where she lives?” Wednesday asked instead. She had enough time to start working on Agnes’ first sword, it was family tradition.

“Not far from the café…she’s a mortician,” Enid piped. “Her shift tomorrow starts at eight.”

“We leave at seven,” Wednesday commanded, a glance at Enid to see if it was alright with her. “Agnes, go do your homework.”

“I already did it! God, if I knew how lame you are I would never have gone through that phase,” then she logged off and left Wednesday staring into space, Enid was laughing in her peripherals.

“Don’t take it to heart, you know how kids are like,” Enid tried, between small chuckles.

“I am not offended.” 

“She still thinks you're cool.”

“I don't care.”

Wednesday left for the bathroom to start her night routine, if she saw a little pout in her reflection it was between her and her own image.

𓌜

The morning came slowly, dragging.

She looked at the map once more, Enid and Agnes managed to keep the tracking going, and she looked as the blue and pink dots moved away slowly. It was eight thirty already, she didn’t know how she managed to take so long to wake up, normally her internal clock didn’t fail.

Wednesday looked back and wondered how to best wake Enid. The first time she tried after the wilderness there were suddenly claws on her neck and fangs in front of her face, a growl deafening in her ears. It was exhilarating. The way Enid jumped away from her and her eyes teared up, voice cracking as she apologized multiple times. The way she had started to splutter reassurances that she would never hurt Wednesday and how it was an impulse, a reflex, she forgot she wasn’t there anymore. It made the whole experience feel too bitter for her to try again.

So Wednesday grabbed a pillow in her bed and threw it in the perfect trajectory to hit Enid square in the face. A hand shot up to grab it inches away from the target and, much to the opposite effect Wednesday wanted, Enid brought it to her face and nuzzled it, breathing deeply and sighing in pleasure.

Wednesday stared. Willing the sudden rush of blood in the tip of her ears and the back of her neck to die down. She got herself under control and rolled her eyes.

“I am leaving in fifteen minutes,” was all she said and Enid shot up instantly, running to the bathroom with a single yelp.

𓌜

The house wasn’t big, not really.

There were two bicycles on the porch, one grey and the other pink with some frills on the handle. Little star stickers littered the crossbar, Gabriela’s name written with a black sharpie and glitter. She sighed and started working on the lock, it took about fifteen seconds. Wednesday clicked her tongue, she was getting rusty.

The inside of the house was cozy, quaint. Several pictures decorated the walls, Gabriela was the star in most of them. Her with a little friend, several Christmases and Easters, mom and daughter riding their bikes, little drawings framed where Gabriela drew herself with eyes and a smile and her mom by her side, little hearts in the background.

Enid sniffed by her side, head moving side to side like a hound, in a way…that was what she was. Wednesday could see the door to the basement, the same one from her vision and she caught the moment Enid’s senses sharpened to focus on Emma’s smell. Her pupils contracted, a small black dot in an ocean of fiery blue and her head tilted to the side. She started walking and Wednesday just followed.

They knew no one was home, even so, Wednesday pulled a knife from her sleeve – her favorite one, a gift from her Father – and suppressed a shiver hearing the click of Enid’s claws lengthening. The door was locked but all it took was a single shoulder bump from Enid, Wednesday still remembering testing how her newfound muscles impacted her already bigger than normal werewolf strength, for it to come off its hinges.

They heard a muffled yell, and hurried their steps. It was dark and Wednesday could feel the moisture in her skin, Enid gagged by her side and she wondered how much more pungent the faint smell of blood and burnt skin was for her friend’s sensitive nose. The lights were low until they got to another door. The one concealing the lab. This would look like a completely normal basement if not for that, maybe a storage room. 

Enid growled the closer they got to it and it was only then that she noticed small engravings on the door. Runes. If Wednesday was reading it correctly, and she was, Grandmama trained too well, they were meant for diminishing noise and concealment of the door. 

But they weren’t at all drawn well, clearly this woman was no witch. Precision made a rune work as it should and hers allowed them to find it, lines shaky and longer than they should be. Wednesday started picking the lock on the door, she noticed the silver bolts in some parts of the wood and would never allow Enid to hurt herself in an attempt to open it. It was a more complicated lock but nothing her uncle Fester had neglected to teach her, she moved her tools a little and the click of the handle sounded a few seconds later.

“Call the police,” Enid growled.

Wednesday got inside and took a look around, it was identical to her vision, just a little more messy, dirtier. The girl, Emma, was naked and strapped to a bed with silver chains, weakened by the sunlight coming from a strategically made hole supposed to vent the room. A piece of fabric stopped her from screaming once her head slumped to the right and she saw them approaching.

Enid ran towards her.

Wednesday took notice of the wall nearest to the door.

It was probably Antonia’s way of measuring success. She could see the framed dismembered faces of their victims, including Emma’s. They were all embalmed, completely cleaned of blood, well preserved. She could also see where exactly they went wrong. Human, witch, gorgon and werewolf skin went through the usual process of decay, the skin near the edges were all going through the process, it would be unsustainable in a living patient.

But Emma’s had no blemish or scar, her species’ vitality etched on skin and glass. It would be perfect if it were not for the faint burn marks in the cheek and forehead area. Most likely an experiment to see if Gabriela would be able to live her life normally. Wednesday tilted her head, the only way that would work would be if she managed to breathe just enough life to diminish vampiric abilities but not too much to make it a living thing.

The other part of the wall was filled with diagrams and Wednesday had to give it to her, Antonia was incredibly knowledgeable. If she got her phone out to take pictures of her notes, no one would know.

Enid’s gentle voice in the background made her turn back and watch as her friend tried to comfort the vampire, her fingers gently massaging the girl’s scalp. 

“Weds…I can’t touch these,” she pointed to the chains and Wednesday nodded, that made sense.

She took a single look at the lock and shook her head.

“I can do it. But she will get hurt in the process,” she would have to break it, pressuring the lock and the chain down into Emma’s skin and burning her further in the process. Empathy was still something she didn’t know how to distinguish very well, but she would feel bad if this poor, young girl was severely hurt because of her.

There was no way to sneak a blanket between her and the metal, it was too tight of a space to even fit her hand. Enid shrugged off her jacket and covered Emma’s modesty, if people were, she was owed at least some decency.

Enid grabbed her phone without thinking twice and started spitting rapid Spanish down the line, she sounded enraged and maybe that was better to make them act faster than Wednesday's own colder approach when it came to speech.

“My–” the girl started and stopped, coughing. “M–my mom–”

“She is the one who procured us to help you,” she ratted factually, knowing that the knowledge of a loved one being worried was sometimes comforting.

The girl started sobbing and she didn’t know what to do.

Enid came back. “They’re on their way,” then she noticed the girl and her eyes widened. Something that screamed What did you do? In her eyes. Wednesday just looked, she didn’t know.

“I will wait upstairs.” Then she left. Enid was infinitely better at this part.

It took about ten minutes of her standing on the porch for the sirens to approach and she silently directed two paramedics and three cops downstairs. One of them, the captain if she was going from his badge, stayed behind and looked at her.

“You shouldn’t mess with these things, girl,” his voice, smoke damaged, was condescending from beginning to end.

“If not I, then who? You clearly did not care enough about these girls to do anything about the fact that they were being brutally experimented on and murdered. You had a year to even try and refused to do so out of your misguided and prejudiced sense of righteousness.”

He looked at her with something too much like disgust to be anything else. She glared at him with the very same intensity.

“One day you will bite off more than you can chew.”

Then he entered and Wednesday watched as he descended the stairs. 

Enid came up a few seconds later, carrying Emma in her arms as the narrow stairs didn’t allow for a gurney to fit. She passed by without a glance, entirely too focused on the mission and there was something about the scene that left a bitter taste on her tongue, the vampire burrowed her head on Enid’s neck and she frowned with the conflict in her stomach.

Enid came back with her jacket on her arms.

“She’ll be okay. They said she’ll just need some rest and blood. Her skin healed but she’s suffering from sunburn fatigue.” Wednesday just hummed in response. “I also heard they arrested Antonia at the morgue.”

“Good,” she muttered.

Enid bounced on her heels, their shoulders brushed and Wednesday watched the morning sky.

“Can we do touristy things now?”

Wednesday sighed. “If we must.”

Chapter Text

By EneedyWolfie

Hi chat!11!!!11!!11! :D

So…I know a lot of you have been wondering where the fuck am I because apparently going missing for like almost two years is kinda concerning?? lmao

But a lot of you were really worried and I feel supes bad for letting this happen at all, I'm sorry. Really.

You know when you find something in your genetic makeup that sorta makes you like prone to be hunted and killed by your own family and people from the same species? Yeah that’s what happened to me. Apparently I'm some sort of anomaly and that made everything else make soooo much sense but at the same time people wanted my head mounted on a wall and I'm not even exaggerating.

And you might think: hey, wolfie, if its that dangerous maaaybe you shouldn’t like post about it for the whole internet to see

To that I say: yk what, fair

The thing is my bestie’s dad is like thee best attorney ever and the man found some loopholes to make my status be passable as long as I don't get involved with, and by that I mean start making part of, a werewolf pack. I'm supposed to be a full time lone wolf and the court found that fine enough because I'm only a danger (eyerolllllll) around them but so long as I prove to them I can be in control while inserted into society I can live. Which is super stupid and I'm so sure they only said that cause I'm a girl and they believe my HoRMoNeS would make me emotional enough to mess everything up but whatever.

There was also a lot of legal footnote bullshittttt as well and this part is the only one I'll never explain or I'd have to get into what happens inside of a werewolf court of law and expose what are our rules and how we work. 

That is something I will never do.

As much as I disregard the institution of Packs and the idea of a pure pack supremacy and think it's kinda eugenist in some way, I will not betray my people. Not like this.

Neways 

You might think it weird that I accepted that because everyone knows wolves are pack animals and we die if we get too lonely – not really, but it's normal to get so depressed some of us commit – and you know I don't like being alone. But…let me ask the audience, I mean I have my friends, my bestie, her family, and like even my ex on my corner so am I really alone? Seriously, I'm fine. More than.

Did it take me some time to get used to that? Yeah 

But it's fine now! I guess when you literally can't sleep because you might be killed at any time you kinda dont want anything to do with them or to even build another pack, one with werewolves. In fact, I'm pretty sure I was terrified of my classmates for half of the school year. But the big update is that now I kinda can't marry a werewolf or that would be starting a new pack and I'd be hunted again

I, actually, cannot interact with wolves in any way that isn't a hundred percent casual. So friendships are out of the question as well. Well…the only ones I know outside of my birth pack are from Nevermore and more than half of those little shits bullied me until I learned the sweet art of blackmail.

So I don't care about them!!;

Also, imagine dating one of them…shudders.

So yeah, tt's fine, I don't wanna get (romantically or platonically) with any werewolf I've ever met anyway lool  ￣ヘ￣

Now, you might ask why I haven't updated in like a year and it's just bc of the whole legal thing, technically speaking it was like being on probation and it was better not to post anything that they could use against me because werewolf court is very unforgiving. So we’re gonna speedrun through senior year and I’ll skip the whole recovery process because I doubt you wanna know about the boring parts of it

My bestie found me after a hunt ig??? I’ll spare you the gory details but all I know is that I was covered in blood and eating something, probably some poor, adorable animal ㅠㅠ. I actually remember almost nothing from the months I was in wolf form, just a lot of running and some of the times I ate in little hidden caves (it got me used to liking raw meat which is just super yucky im lucky my roomie’s super weird of she’d have me kicked out at that time) and sometimes I befriended squirrels???? idk but I dont like hurting them ㅠㅠ 

No but seriously now, you dont know what it was like to stand there while my roomie just turned on the hose to clean me up, like I've never been more humiliated!!! And to make things infinitely worse, she kept muttering about how filthy I was and her brothers came around to help scrub off the dirt, leaves and blood out of me. Standing there and waiting for my fur to dry was the worst!!!

It's funny that I do remember most of my time with her even wolfed out like i remember recognizing her, here's the thing, she has a very characteristic smell like its ink and soil and cemetery kinda and i could pick it out from anywhere so i saw her and I think I tried to lounge at her ? maybe wolfnid thought her prey was about to be taken or something which is fair ig, I was hungry

But I remember when she started calling my name, it was like being pulled from a deep sleep by your alarm, yk that sudden sobering moment? Yeah it was like that.  Her uncle was there too and he looked at me weird idk I think i saw him as a threat for a while but he just laughed when I tried to attack him so maybe my brain immediately computed him as roomie’s family lol 

She let me sleep inside, ig because I was scared of waking up and being there again. I know I said I wouldn't talk about the bad parts but…I guess this is something I need to get out of my chest now that I'm fine and likely never going to end up like that again. I have full control over my form now, it’s honestly pretty impressive if I say so myself

It was hard. It really was. I know I spent nights and nights awake, scared that I would wake up and this would be another dream. My brain tortured me a lot in the first few days,  I would dream that I was waking up in my dorm, warm and with my roomie quietly talking to her family on the side, she would glance at me like she used to do every day when we woke up together and point at the breakfast she left at my nightstand – pancakes and coffee, my fav – and all would be happy

And then I woke up on the cold forest floor rain soaked and hungry and remembering that people wanted me dead and they were closing in so I couldn’t stay idle (ㅠㅠ) for a long time. It was like getting shot in the chest every fucking time.

The first night I spent there, bestie let me stay on the floor near her bed (I just knowwww she missed me) and thank god her room’s like gigantic because wolf me is pretty big. I slept hearing her write for the first time in months and woke up when she was already sleeping. I think I was half asleep because I did something and she was there telling me everything was fine.

Sometimes I still remember that part in specific, I won’t get into detail to protect my bestie’s reputation, but do know she’d never do that to any of you >.< :p

We fell asleep again later, I know she was tired, poor girl’s dark circles were deep and she napped leaning on me on the floor. When I woke up I knew she was there and there was breakfast on her desk and I think I cried a little.

Moving on, I remember the trip back, that girl’s insane bc wdym you got a whole ass helicopter to get us back because we didn't have too much time until the beginning of our classes. I turned back (yayy) I think two weeks later and it was so weird. I think her grandma is like thee witch and she gave this super yucky thing to drink. Chat, you dont understand, it was thick and sooo bitter, the closest thing i can compare it to is maybe slime but made out of the worst cabbage E V E R

I think i’m a little traumatized with it forreal

It was really weird having thumbs again btw. The first family dinner we had with me as…me went very poorly. I couldn't for the life of me hold a spoon, so their butler LITERALLY hand fed me, it was pathetic!!!! I was pathetic. The next day for breakfast, roomie ate with me, she helped me steady my hand and that was soo sweet of her (dont ever tell her i said that, im serious, she’d kill me) it took maybe a week and a half to eat normally 

Thank god for werewolf healing, really

Apparently my friends were in on it and my roomie used her NEW (!!!) phone to coordinate her searches which was very very nice of her. She said she only bought one to easily communicate with the others without violating my privacy.

See, that’s why I don't understand when people call her cold or mean-spirited (she usually is lol) but she’s always so nice to me :( (well…you know what i mean by always)

They all came to visit while I was recovering (ig) it was fun remembering how to be human again! But I did feel that slightly omg-im-so-left-out thing for a few minutes :< ig I got too used to being the beast that I didn't even care about showing my scars or having new ones and idk…I think it was the first time they saw me without makeup and it made me look kinda scary, I think ? my roomie doesn’t think so, she said they’re “fearsome” and “the ultimate proof of your strength and resilience in the name of survival” if this happened when we first met id wish she just called it pretty or nice, but now that I know her better, I think I like the weird compliments the most

Christmas was fun too!

My bestie’s family doesn't really celebrate it the way we do, they say they celebrate Yule because the usual xmas is just a capitalistic invention co-opted (stolen) by the christians to make it all about their guy when that wasn't really it to the pagan people who invented the thing in the first place. They right tho, so I dont wanna hear anything about it

Neways

They told me there’s usually hunting in their own grounds done by the children, rabbits, bucks, even lions or panthers sometimes are involved and then they skin whatever they get to make little mementos from the kills. Then they do a roast with the meat and something I didn't want to ask about with the bones but it's important to celebrate the seasonal changes (witch thing ig??) and the plentiful food

This year the task was given to me (first timer and all) and my friend’s brother who turned six and apparently it was time. It wasn't a competition at all, in fact, we did it together and I accompanied him whenever I thought he could get hurt, but apparently he trained a lot for that exact moment and managed to snag a couple of rabbits in less than three hours

It took me some more time and I know, I know, I spent three to four months surviving solely on meat I had to hunt for and it took me almost a full day to do it in human form?

Yes.

Have you ever tried to kill a mountain lion?

No? Then let me give you a little insight 

ITS!! FUCKING!! HARD!!

At first I wanted to do it without wolfing out. It had been almost a month since I was fully in human form and, one, I was scared of being stuck again and two, I wanted to prove myself, dammit (ꐦ𝅒_𝅒). I dont think that was too much to ask

Regardless, as my roomie says, it mattered not what I wanted. I did shift again and to my surprise it was easier to come back after lol. Apparently being in a stress free environment does wonders for the human psyche, who would've guessed? Not me 

Also, let it be known, getting that lion was muchhhh easier in my wolf form alright, don’t you dare doubt wolfnid’s prowess. It also hurt my heart ㅠ‸ㅠ, that poor thing :( please, lets have a little praying moment for the diva who had to leave us so that my bestie’s family could have a feast and a new (beautiful btw) living room rug

I won't even talk about having to relearn how to write cause that soo humbling I had to stare into space and think a little about my existence lol

But yeah, whatever. Let's skip this part and get where I know you lot find more interesting 

Nevermore.

The year was much less interesting (dangerous) than the ones before. I won't even have a lot of gossip to dish out tbh. I couldn't pay attention to a lot of things. I guess when you have to spend summer, winter and spring break studying to compensate for missing half a year you just stop caring about people's lives lol

Like, the most I can tell is that Bianca started dating Ajax (yes, that Ajax) and they were supes cute. They only broke up because Bia got a scholarship for the outcast college in Cali and Ajax had to follow family business in New York. Don't ask, I still don't know what they do, honestly, I don't even know how Ajax is doing these days. Bia is now dating a cute werecat (a girl!! o.O I owe Yokes twenty bucks)

Talking about Yoko!! She went back for senior year at school, even if she did have another semester at her exchange program. She said and I quote “I leave for six months and you get yourself stuck into wolf form?” and…yeah, she's not wrong, but I would've done it again tho. (I know you don't know what I’m talking about, but I really don't feel like getting into that)

Neways.

Yoko is still with Divina, ig they're one of those couples who will live together forever, so lucky. Yokes doesn't have to go to school anymore, her sire only made her go for the full high school experience? But I know she has at least a few degrees already, idk how old she actually is tho. Div got into college too!!! She's doing architecture!!! In London!!

But yeah…I forgot what I was talking about, sorry

My last year at Nevermore was busy but nice!! 

I was captain of the soccer team! And rugby!! One of my professors said it would be good for me to waste some energy and she was right. I was also made president of the film and dance clubs!!!!

Also…I think it was in the middle of the year that I had an important realization. one that I'm sure every single one of you saw coming from a mile away.

As it turns out…I am a lesbian 

What a surprise, huh?

It's a funny history actually. There was this boy, a siren, he was good looking, charming and nice, the type i would usually go after, right? And he was the first one in a while to actually talk to me instead of waiting for me to talk to him like all the others. But it just gave me the ick? I guess?

It honestly took me a lot of time and self reflection to understand what was going on 

Maybe it was because, for the first time ever, I didn't have a family to disappoint, it didn't matter who I was? My bestie’s family has no issue with anything that's considered not normal (?) and I didn't have to worry about fitting in the pack and following what mother wanted or being threatened with conversion camp (yikes!)

Maybe that was why my stomach got queasy whenever that boy flirted with me, even if he was the one person outside of my friends to not see me as a threat or a bomb that was about to go off. It just felt wrong, everything about it was wrong and I realized that the problem was…me

I didn't like that he was trying to get with me. 

I remember talking about it with my roomie, just venting while she read and she made me stop pacing to ask a single question. “If he were a girl, would it be better?”

And listen…there's still something about it that's kinda not entirely right, but I think every wolf is like that if they're not with their mate. Especially a wolf like me. But it was infinitely better to imagine, if he was a nice girl, maybe brunette, a little shorter than me and with freckles all over her cheeks, stubborn but really attentive, then yeah…I wouldn't be nearly as uncomfortable 

I think I said some of that, maybe half of it? idk, but my roomie told me it was fine if I didn't want to be with boys, no one would think less of me for that. In a way…she was right, no one did, no one who mattered

There was still a voice in my head telling me that if I was not procreating to perpetuate the species, I was a failure. But logic spoke louder just this once, if I could not make a pack with a werewolf man without putting a target on my back then I already couldn't keep the pack going. So why should I have to force myself to be with a man of another species? And for what? To appease the mother I don't have anymore? Fit into a society I was kicked out from?

I mean…all the times I got with boys I just had to be thinking about something else. I got with Ajax because I needed someone to get mother off my back about the mate talk and then there was the other guy…

Honestly I think I just wanted to know what it would be like to be with a werewolf boy and the pack treated me sooo well when we were together. 

But to get with another guy for no reason? That didn't make sense to me or to my wolf

So to hell with that!

Really, I think the best thing about this SituationTM is that the worst possible thing had already happened. I was scared of ever letting this feeling inside me be seen but…does it really matter if I’m already a lone wolf? If my family already turned their back on me? And I know that you might be asking yourself why do I even consider them family and the thing is…they are my blood family and nothing I can do will ever change that

But at the same time, I know that the people who love and support me regardless of if I wolf out or not, if I get perpetually stuck as a wolf or not, or even if I am straight or not, are currently in their manor, feeding their pets and wondering why did we decide to take so long to go back, yk?

Chat, the thing is, when you get used to being loved for who you are and realize it’s actually the first time that happens, you kinda stop caring about everything else

So yeah, proud lesbian here!

Talking about June!

My birthday!!!!;

It was Awesome!!!! Yoko and Bianca prepared a surprise party for me!!!

Wednesday took me to Jericho to buy some new clothes and she got me a new sweater!! I kinda outgrew my fave one :< so she got me one very similar but this one is made with vegan dyes!!! (I know you don't know the importance to that but it is)

She was actually set out to DECEIVE ME!!! Me?!?!?!??!! Her bestie !!!!

While we were out the girls decorated our room and it was gorgeoussszs. There were balloons and glitter everywhere, roomie's left eye was twitching.

Yoko gave me a Hyeju butterfly pc !! it was one of the only ones left to complete my collection, I honestly thought I wouldn't have one anymore because of issues lol 

Bianca gave me new yarn!!!, So I crocheted her beanie for her! For the winter. I would hate for her pretty little bald head to be cold and exposed to the elements…she loved it, thank you very much If anyone wants the pattern just comment, I made it myself!!

Div got me some new books!!! She said she grabbed every lesbian novel she could find in the shelves (⁠っ⁠˘⁠з⁠(⁠˘⁠⌣⁠˘⁠ ⁠) I've been reading them and will make a list with ratings!! Promise!

Ajax made the cake! He's actually a great baker, there are very few stuff he makes that are not sell worthy. I think he genuinely enjoys baking and kinda wanted to do that…I hope he can

Another thing, my roomie gave me another gift…she said the sweater didn't count because I chose it -_- whatever that meant. So she gave a dagger. Handmade. 

It's so pretty guys…it's made out of steel and there's like some rainbows on the blade (no idea how she did that) and raven claws on the handle. CARVED. She's crazy. Unhinged. Insane. 

Oh! Also! At the end of the year we had the Rav’n and it was awesome!!!

Of course, my friends were all shacked up (learned that one with Yoko btw) and I wasn’t even thinking about attending (too much homework ≖_≖ ) but BUT !!!! My roomie suddenly looked at me dead in the eye and told me to “procure proper attire. You shall accompany me to that cesspool of adolescent hormones and self infatuation” no, I don’t know why she refuses to just talk like a normal person. But it was super sweet!

She refused to give me flowers tho

But I decided to wear a super pretty dress, at first my scars and the growth I had in muscle mass (see! I’m starting to talk like her, ugh) (but like…im buff buff now) made me a bit insecure to wear one but Yoko actually smacked me upside the head and told me to grow a pair (whatever that would mean in this context) and woman up. And ykw? She was right, I looked good and I know everyone in that room also thought so

My roomie almost smiled! I saw it! 

Talking about her…she decided to wear a suit and I think I almost passed out. I know all my friends are super pretty but there’s just something about her wearing a waistcoat and a tie that makes me a little ⸝⸝๑﹏๑⸝⸝ she was also super gentlewomanly and I guess that was what made everything different

I mean…I went to the first Rav’n with a guy who just wanted to prank the school because he hated outcasts, just to make a guy who wasn’t even that much into me jealous and I got uninterested the second he started to like me!!

The second I fucking missed but there was another ball and I went alone because my situationship of the time had a whole ass girlfriend!! She was so pretty tho, I know I could treat her better :<

But this one?? Ughhhhh

My bestie was waiting for me at the bottom of the stairs, I know she’d usually rather be anywhere else but she made sure to not make it feel that way. She opened the doors and pulled the chairs and stood up to dance whenever I even thought about asking her. It was like the best (friend) date ever!!!!!

Then when we got to our room, she looked at me once and said very very seriously

“This never happened.” And when I tried to tell her that everyone saw it, there’s no way of saying that she just shrugged and said she already forgot all about it!!

She’s lying, I know. But god, she’s annoying!! And she’s doing it just to piss me off too!!!

Neways

I’m writing this four months after graduation. 

Roomie and I decided to take a gap year before choosing whether or not we go to college. I used to have plans but idk anymore, I think I just need some time to fully understand what I want to do in life yk? So we decided to travel the world!!! 

We're on our second night in a hotel in Spain and since she’s writing I decided to update you guys as well. 

Also can I just say…some people really do have the nerve, yk? The sheer audacity!!! Because what do you mean you see someone having a fucking seizure and you first instinct is ‘I’m gonna touch her, it’s totally gonna help!’ Like ????? Helloooo????? You don’t get to touch her lol you don’t need to hold her too omg I’m already there, yk? I can help. Why would you even dare, omg!!!! People these days!!

Okay…I’m calm now…she was super nice tho.

Still…don’t touch people you don’t know.

Things are fine.

I promise the next one won’t take so long, probably…honestly, with the way we are it’s possible something will happen and we will be incapacitated in some way ?????

Well there’s something important to do tomorrow…cheer for us juseyo ˶╥︿╥

See you soon!! <3

Chapter Text

“You do know we can book a hotel, right?” Wednesday said. She didn't plead. Her voice sounded whiner than she'd like, but apparently loss of bodily control had been happening in little ways for almost two years now.

She had yet to look into that.

“Yes. But Bia’s girlfriend offered the apartment and it would be so rude to say no,” Enid shrugged, hand pressing on the top of her bag to try to zip it up. “Besides,” a little grunt of effort. “Her sister won't even be there so it'll be just us and the two of them.”

“That is infinitely worse,” she mumbled.

Wednesday sighed and reached down, covering her fingers with the sleeve of her black hoodie, to toss Enid the red duffle bag resting by her feet. She still looked at it with a little bit of contempt, but they did have to leave soon and that wretched thing was the best chance they had of Enid finally finishing packing. Why she had to prepare for a possibly week-long trip as if she was moving permanently Wednesday did not know. 

Enid scoffed, both at her statement and at the extra bag, she had tried to live a minimalist life after the wilderness, but it lasted for about six weeks. Good thing she had decided to go to therapy. 

“C’mon you love her,” she accused, turning her back to fix her bags. Wednesday opened her mouth to let her know what exactly she thought about it all. “Don’t even. You two spent senior year joined at the hip! And I know you just decided to compete for the fencing team to travel with her.”

Wednesday’s mouth wobbled. 

It might not have been necessarily untrue.

“What a ludicrous notion, Enid. It appears your brain may officially be declared rotted from all the short form content you insist on consuming,” Wednesday huffed. Enid looked back at her, dully colorful sweater mid-folding, and raised an eyebrow. She gritted her teeth, trying to hide a hiss but looked away from her friend. “I joined the team because she is the only one nearly skilled enough to withstand a match against me and the week away for the tournament would leave me rusty if I hadn’t.”

“Sure…whatever you say, Weds.”

Wednesday narrowed her eyes and crossed her arms. It wasn’t that she was still wary of letting Enid in, not after spending countless nights lying by her side in the same bed to catch her should the nightmares come, they were too familiar at this point, too close. But when it came to her friendships…Wednesday and Bianca were stuck in a perpetual stage of war, should she admit this small little thing, that she might have enjoyed her company during their trips, then Bianca would win. 

It would be unacceptable.

They texted each other once a week, Tuesday at seven thirty p.m, pacific time. Bianca always started with a petty insult, Wednesday followed her lead with a single text, then Bianca would tell her to drown in a vault of acid and Wednesday’s ribs would warm from the well wishes so she always made sure her last message would be doubly disturbing.

Her eyes rolled. “Do hurry up, we will be late.”

Enid kept eye contact as she put a shirt in the duffle bag as slowly as possible, the muscles exposed by her tank top flexing with the effort to stay almost still midair. Wednesday tightened her jaw but relaxed just as quickly, knowing any sign of annoyance would just make Enid victorious.

It lasted another fifteen seconds – she counted – until Enid laughed and actually heeded her request, technically the plane wouldn’t leave without them. Not that Enid knew, Wednesday just told her the time they would leave without any sort of additional information, which made everything else more infuriating.

“You are incorrigible,” was all she hissed once Enid was almost finished. 

All she got back was a cackle.

𓌜

They decided to go on the private jet Wednesday got for her eighteenth birthday. She didn't want it, not really, she had never been a fan of carbon emissions for the sake of it. Grandma Frump insisted on it, another attempt to lure her into family business once she got tired of this ‘foolish journey of hers’.

And though she would usually let it rust in the airport's garage, a twenty four hour trip to the other side of the country did make sense for her to use it. There was absolutely no way she would manage to spend seven hours in a commercial plane, then another seven in a stop in Phoenix of all places, then another five hours and another stop before their destination. Wednesday learned that sometimes one had to accept their limitations. This was one of them.

“Okay…let’s go from the beginning?” Enid asked, throwing herself on the seat across from hers. There was space beside her, Wednesday didn’t get why it wasn’t chosen. Not like she cares, she didn’t, this way was better to observe her friend anyhow.

Wednesday grabbed the manila folder Bianca sent them and started spreading the pictures on the small table in between the large seats. She could’ve just let Enid look through them but there was something about laying everything out and just spitting out ideas that made it easier to think through all the evidence. Ever since losing her abilities this was the most efficient way Wednesday could work.

She had tried talking with her mother, Morticia looked at her with…sympathy in her dark eyes, a hand nearly touching her shoulder, the comfort of the non-touch bigger and warmer since she forced herself to clear things up with her the year before. You will have to give it time, my little poison ivy…once your visions are regular at the very least we can perfect them again, but do not overexert yourself, dear.

And Wednesday decided, logically, that it would be best to listen to her. Though she still had the dream-vision stuck in her mind, forcing more would be counterproductive, she had decided in the beginning of senior year that she wouldn’t keep making the same mistake, she wasn’t insane yet. She would save whoever that was – herself, Enid or someone else entirely – with her own skill set.

She would do it the right way this time.

“Right…that is disgusting,” Enid pointed at one of the pictures, focused on puncture wounds on one of the victims’ sole. 

“I do think it's rather artistic.”

“Of course you do,” her lips curled a little in disgust. 

Wednesday appreciated that no matter how used to her and her antics Enid got, she never quite lost herself. It was easy to do so, such was the Addams companionship.

“So…all witches, huh?” Enid asked. Wednesday hummed in affirmation. “Hate crime, I’m calling it now.”

“You cannot ‘call it,’” she made sure to make quotation marks with her fingers. “I already did it. Yesterday.”

“Nuh-uh!”

“Yuh-huh,” she deadpanned, in the driest way possible. Then she took out her notebook from the inner lining of her hoodie and pointed at the exact spot she knew she wrote it. “I have called it.”

“That’s so not fair and you know it,” Enid whined. Wednesday tried to stop the corner of her lips from moving up.

“You do know it is rather immoral to bet on the reasoning behind multiple brutal killings, right?”

Enid’s eyes widened and she spluttered. “As if you care about morality.”

“You do. Don’t you?”

“You suck,” Enid groaned. The feeling of victory was almost as sickenly sweet as the way pink lips pouted in mock distress. Enid rolled her eyes and smirked before clearing her throat and focusing her eyes on the pictures and descriptions again. “Weds…I’m gonna be totally honest here…I did not pay attention to any magic classes.”

Wednesday almost blinked at that, her left eye twitched. “I wonder how you ended up at the top of our class.”

“It’s called cramming and forgetting, baby,” Enid winked. “Normal people have to do that sometimes.”

She rolled her eyes so hard, she almost got excited at the prospect of seeing the back of her head. That, certainly, was the reason for the sudden thrumming in her heart and electricity in her bloodstream.

She pointed at the first set of pictures, Alma Greyson had been 25 years old when she was killed. The picture, the one her fiancee sent to the media outlets, showcased her nauseatingly green eyes and her bright blonde hair. A hideous contrast with the one by its right, her deceased body was posed on her side in the backyard of a church, her head thrown back and naked were it not for a white fabric, maybe satin if Enid’s fashion prowess was to be trusted, covering her pelvis, a hand resting lightly on her hip. Her torso was red, maybe rubbed raw. Wednesday had seen similar salt burns when she and her brother attempted to see if she could skin some rabbits more efficiently. Knives were easier, this woman had been tortured for a long time.

Wednesday thought it was almost beautiful, the composition of it all, even the way the sun shone down in the forensic picture. 

“Alma was a rune witch like me,” she looked up to see Enid’s focused eyes. “In a way, we do not have innate power, it might flow through our veins, but we cannot project them like other witches do. We study and we become fluent in the runes most useful to us and we brandish them like weapons,” she averted her eyes. “We can be the weakest in a coven if we don’t study enough. We can be the strongest in a room if we do, but it will never be enough to surpass other witches.”

Enid nodded, looking down at the files again. The woman died in a full moon, kidnapped and kept for six days before her body collapsed from dehydration. Wednesday wondered briefly what it was like, she probably would have lost her wits and either killed herself or everyone else on day two.

At most.

Wednesday pointed at another picture, set a little further from her reach. A Korean-American woman. Deep brown eyes, tanned skin and hair so dark it was almost sheer black, she was the youngest, barely 18 years old, still a freshman in college. The picture they had was from her high school graduation, it probably happened right along with theirs. 

Just a little to the left and there was the picture of when her body was found. She had been dressed at least, draped in the heavy white clothes – no black cloak – the priests used to wear in the sixteenth century, her wrists tied to the metal frame of a Catholic school’s fire escape. Her face was peaceful, though when Wednesday read the M.E report, she highly doubted there had been any sort of calmness at all. 

Kidney failure, by the sheer amount of traces, likely induced by Artemisia. If she had to guess, the friction burns on her wrists, ankles and torso had been from being tied up through the seizures that amount of the plant could cause.

Which was pretty ironic.

“Dinah Miyong Huh. Wood witch…or forest witch, as the British say,” she started again. Enid's eyes on her. Again. “They grow a certain connection with specific forests, most of them were born in it and some stumbled upon it very young. Usually, they treat it as a deity, they worship it and in turn it worships them. They can see and hear throughout the entire piece of land, they can feel the leaves and the trees and they can induce them to move it as the witches will. They protect the land and it protects them.”

She paused, a sigh in her lips of a rather rare fondness. 

“My aunt Ophelia,” Wednesday started again. “Like to say she can even understand and be understood by the animals. I half believe her.”

Enid tilted her head to the right, a look of confusion in her furrowed brows. 

“I don't think Everett has like– actual forests.”

“Apparently you paid just enough attention to Geography class. That’s in Massachusetts, the one we're going to have a preserve,” Wednesday snarked, an odd sense of satisfaction bubbling at the answering tsk. “Aunt Ophelia says they get super uncomfortable away from their home, as if she is constantly seasick. But some of them can do it for a slotted amount of time so long as they go back to recharge. Still, from what we know her coven is in Vermont. It’s weird she wasn’t with them.”

“You aren't with yours,” Enid pointed out.

“It’s different,” she sighed. “I’m fine without the coven. Wood witches usually only form it with each other, with witches from the same forest, so they don't have to leave it. They are disgustingly close, I am eighty percent sure Aunt Ophelia is actually dating all six of the women in her coven.”

Enid's eyes widened. “Good for her,” then she smiled, playfully. “It’s nice that all of you are double witches, with the dove and raven thing.”

Wednesday shook her head.

“Witches of the sight are called divination or prediction witches. It is severely different,” she looked at the window. “Us, seers, we get contextless parts of events whether we control our visions or not and we can change their course if we try hard enough. Divination witches can see the whole scene, their future is set in  stone…but they live out of sequence as well. In a moment they are, mentally, here and in the blink of an eye they can go either 30 years to the past or to the future of their own existence so long as they are not rejecting their powers. It is something I would only wish on my enemies.”

“What if they do reject?”

She looked back at Enid, half…endeared at the way she grabbed her phone and started typing out the information.

“It is similar to what wood witches go through when away from home, more pain than discomfort. They merely live with it.”

Then Wednesday pointed at another picture. 

A black woman, widest smile possible, cat on her shoulder and cerulean blue hair. She looked so genuinely happy that looking down at her report was almost daunting. Dislocated shoulders, dehydration, ligature marks on her wrists and evidence of extreme stress in her organs. The poor woman had drowned until she died of asphyxia.

The picture of her body was as well composed as the others. She was naked as well, white satin covering her genitalia and back from touching the wood of the public park bench she was found in, there was a single gash in her left ribs and puncture wounds on both of her hands and feet. She had been taken for five days.

Passed at 33. 

Almost symbolic.

“Sheyla Mansfield was a healing witch or a healer or even a potions witch. It is self explanatory. They are able to make potions, but they need the same level of study as rune witches. Most of them were demonized after normies found out some of the potions need blood, either from the patient or from someone willing, to work properly. Think of it as customized medicine. They are the most essential members in a coven.”

“Do wood witches hire them? Like, if one member of the coven is sick.” 

Wednesday pondered. She only knew one of them, that wasn't empirical data enough to give an accurate answer. Maybe if she paid more attention to Aunt Ophelia's lessons.

“Some of them are crazy enough to fully be part of it,” she shrugged. 

“That’s so fucking cool,” Enid breathed out in awe. “I kinda wish I was a witch.”

Wednesday just looked at her.

“You can do potions or rune work, it will be weaker than if, say, I or mother did. But it is possible, if you truly want it.” 

“I don't know if I have the discipline for it…”

She did. Wednesday knew. 

She was also terrified of the unknown sometimes, especially when dealing with magic. If she took into account that some branches of werewolf packs – including the Sinclairs – were created after a cast curse in the most painful way possible, Wednesday understood.

So she looked at the last picture.

Enid followed her sight and her lips did that thing where they curled downwards for a little before she remembered she usually wasn't allowed to be this upset over something and they went back to their usual shape.

Wednesday didn't blame her.

The last woman was the whole reason they could be there. 

Bianca called when her girlfriend got back from a rather rattled conversation, she had just found out her roommate's future sister in law was found dead in front of the local art center wearing a white dress with red fabric covering her lap, sitting on a chair with her head thrown back, hands crossed in her midsection. From the picture they could see the ligature marks on her wrists and the ones in her report showed her body freshly shaven, some razor blades scratches, and more signs of the girl being bound by her tighs, ankles and midsection.

The cause of death had been hard to find but there were signs of choking, the way her eyes bulged and her pale skin tinted lightly blue made the asphyxia a little easier to find. The hard part was finding how.

If the goat's blood in her otherwise empty stomach and the lack of bruising around her throat was any indication, Wednesday could guess she was most likely force fed and choked.

Her hair had been blonde in the post mortem. But the pictures her boyfriend sent, the ones he sent to his sister to see which would look better on his proposal, showed her blue eyes and purple hair pretty well. It was astounding what this particular suspect could do in only five days.

“Brittany Hudson. Green witch,” Wednesday stated and arched an eyebrow when Enid's hands shot up. It reminded her of classes, maybe she missed it. “Yes, Enid. They are incredibly different from Wood witches.”

Enid pouted a little at her tone, jokingly more than not. At least that was what she could guess based on the lack of a surprisingly piercing glare.

“Green witches are not bound by land,” Wednesday started again. “They have a deeper connection to most types of lifeform as they see power through the growth and decay cycle. They can use plants, every type, as they will, their spells can be incredibly dangerous and they have particular relationships with death. Some of them could be proficient necromancers.”

Enid’s eyes widened, her lips a little curled in disgust.

“They can raise the dead?”

Wednesday nodded, she wondered if the veiled interest in Enid’s posture was actually merely mirroring her own.

“Yes. But it’s complicated, to say the least,” she licked her lips, a particular memory in her mind. She mentally whispered a little prayer for Cousin Dready and Dounty. “It comes at a high price. There are three effective ways of bringing back the dead, the simplest is a pre-made ritual, you basically prepare your body and wait for a moment of chance or a devoted follower to bring you back.”

“Oh, so crackstone and that weird guy…what was his name?”

“Irrelavant. But yes. Since they prepared themselves for it, they can come back with some integrity, their consciousness at the very least, but it can only be done pre-mortem. It works because they trap themselves in a limbo, waiting. In the second way you bring the body back soulless, like a comatose person with movement. There is only one way to bring a soul back if it has already been taken. With green magic itself,” she sighed. “However, it is not recommended. You bring the soul, but it doesn’t stop the decay of the body.”

“Oh,” Enid breathed out. “So they get necrosis.”

“In the worst possible form. They are unable to die, resurrection is almost a curse. And, as you know, it can only be broken by the one who cast it. They rot inside out, like fungi, but their neuron connections stay almost intact to keep them alive, so they’re in pain the whole time.”

Enid let out such a little whimper it was almost unhearable. “That must suck. God, I can’t imagine bringing someone back only to kill them later.”

Wednesday hummed, pondered a little about sharing stories that weren’t hers to tell. Enid was considered to be one of them, in a way her father refused to dwell on, something or other about not rushing things. Yet, she was one of them, Wednesday would be the first to claim it.

“I had a cousin,” she started. A somber tone in her voice she couldn’t stabilize no matter what, Wednesday ached for her every time she remembered the situation. It was the first time she felt grief after Nero. “Her son died…a week before his eighth birthday. We still don’t know why, it was so sudden. One moment we were camping with Mother and in the other Father asked us to prepare some bags, we would be traveling for the funeral in an hour.”

Wednesday paused. She really didn’t like this part.

“Oh, Weds, I’m so sorry,” Enid whispered, her hand itching to touch hers but never coming into contact.

“We decided to stay with her. Mother thought it would be good for her to have someone around…she decided to bring him back after nine days. Mother tried to stop her but she wasn’t reasonable,” a sigh so minimal it was merely a breath through parted teeth. Enid’s eyes watered. “She had to kill him after four days. He spent every minute of it in pain and she only did it because he begged her multiple times, Father got us out of the house and Mother held her the whole way through.”

“Oh my god,” Enid breathed out, tears leaving her eyes. The pit on her stomach deepened at the sight of them. “Is your cousin–”

“She committed suicide a day after asking us to leave. I think she would have done it regardless if we stayed or not, she would just do it in the woods or maybe in her private suite.”

“I’m sorry for your loss,” Enid said. Softly, warmly. Wednesday appreciated it, though she thought it unnecessary. Lady Death did as life willed.

Wednesday just nodded.

𓌜

“All of them killed on full moons,” Wednesday wondered aloud.

She didn't even have to look at a calendar, all she needed was the dates of their passings, she had memorized future full moons and whatever other event could have an effect on lycans. When she slep in the same room as a werewolf such precautions were deemed as necessary, even if Enid technically still didn't shift regularly in every moon, Wednesday liked to be prepared.

They were in hour seven of the trip to Everett. Enid begged for a break after about two hours of discussion, needing to move around a little and then to nap. Wednesday was surprised she even took that long for her to resquest it, sometimes their study sessions in Nevermore needed timeouts every so often Enid could go on runs to burn off energy.

Apparently, the more time passed after their first shift, the easier it was to control it all. 

“You always surprise me, huh,” was all Enid answered. She had a soft look of awe and something else Wednesday could never quite name, Enid had been looking at her like that for a while now. Then she cleared her throat and tried to blink it away. 

Wednesday couldn’t watch, so she avoided her eyes to the covered window.

“It feels incredibly ritualistic, though I cannot recall which one. The rituals needing human sacrifice I am aware of are neither very popular or committed outside of the very few old crones with far too intense vendettas. Besides, they usually need to be completed during blood or blue moons.”

“Maybe it’s some other type of ritual? I mean…if they’re hate crimeing witches I doubt they’ll use magic,” Enid shrugged and Wednesday bit the inside of her lip.

It made sense. It was in moments like this that she was glad for Enid’s ever so reliant presence.

“We will have to take a closer look,” Wednesday sighed. What she didn't say was that she was sure they were going in blind in some aspects.

She closed her eyes and remembered the pictures, something was off. Something was missing.

Enid’s fangs sunk into her bottom lip, Wednesday briefly wondered if the indents were as delightfully painful as they looked.

“Agnes and I hacked the police system and gathered everything they have…unless someone’s hiding something,” she paused. “Or they were trying to avoid this– people looking into their things.”

“So they know their system’s security is faulty at best?” Wednesday frowned lightly. “And instead of fixing it, they simply use physical copies of evidence to not leave traces of it elsewhere. It doesn’t make sense.”

Enid’s head tilted.

“Maybe they want to avoid panic…I mean if it’s something that proves this killer has an agenda then I wouldn’t want to create mass hysteria in what? The third city in the country with the biggest witch population in the country?"

“Fourth as of last year. Chicago surpassed them again,” Wednesday corrected without thinking much. “The attempt to stop a big part of the population from getting defensive and scared makes sense.”

Enid scoffed. “Of course you think so…”

Wednesday would groan if she was a tad more expressive, as it was, she merely felt the upper corner of her lip twitching. “I apologized for that four times already.”

“Still. It’s the principle of the thing!”

She looked away and refrained from sighing. “I want to see the official records.”

Enid’s eyebrow raised. “You want to break into a police station.”

Wednesday mimicked her move. “I will break into a police station,” Enid muttered a of course, entirely too exasperated. “And you will accompany me.”

“Right…no, thanks.”

“Enid,” Wednesday spat through gritted teeth, knowing that there were some things her friend really despised to do, namely, whatever could get her arrested. Wednesday wouldn't be the one to break the news that vigilantism was illegal in every country. She’d have to pull out a weapon seldom used, mostly to protect her own dignity. Wednesday sighed, her eyes widened just a little bit and she allowed her lips a slight pout. “Please.”

She would go a little further if needed, add in a whine that would possibly kill whatever sense of pride she happened to have and leave her throat burning in shame, she did need Enid with her for that particular mission. Two sets of hands searched better than one and with Thing unavailable, Enid would have to do. 

Wednesday saw the exact moment she won. Enid froze, her lips parted and eyes widened, bright red on the tip of her ears – Wednesday still didn’t know why that reaction came to be, but she learned how to trigger it easily enough and would exploit it only in times of desperate need. If she could guess, it probably matched her own desire to make her friend happy on the basis of maintaining friendship, the difference was that Enid rarely ever had to go through these extremes.

“Fine! Okay! We’ll go,” her voice cracked, the wonder in her eyes replaced with betrayal  when Wednesday couldn’t hide the smirk fighting its way on her lips any longer. “You suck.”

“So you have told me.”

𓌜

The private landing strip was blissfully calm by the time they arrived, the next flight would only land in about an hour. Maybe Wednesday, being an Addams, did have some privileges compared to other people, Bianca was waiting for them leaning against her girlfriend’s car by the parking lot.

Wednesday wanted to groan at the small feeling of excitement at seeing her friend after so long – Bianca didn't understand her like Enid did, but they managed to build such a mutual respect and their battling wits always worked as caffeine for her system.

“Private jet? Dramatic much?” Was the first thing she said and Enid laughed, head down and a pep in her step. “Will you want me to princess carry you into the car too?”

Wednesday hummed. “I play with what I get, Barclay,” she refused to even dignify that last comment with acknowledgement.

“Alright, Bruce Wayne, just know I’m not handling your bags.” Bianca snickered.

It would hardly be necessary anyway. Enid had both their bags and carry-ons in her hands – sometimes, in situations of a little more stress, Enid liked using her much upgraded strength to make sure Wednesday wouldn't need to lift a finger. Maybe to make sure she could protect her friend should anything go wrong. What a show off.

“I sure hope not considering I won't be paying you for the chauffeuring.” Wednesday still bit back. “Also, if I ever dress up in a bat costume do shoot me in the head. It's either a clone or I have officially reached insanity.”

Bianca's rolling eyes were a trophy.

The trunk closed with a heavy sound and Enid, who Wednesday didn't notice had stepped away, was back dusting off her hands. No bag in sight. 

Wednesday could see Bianca was itching to say something about it, a raised eyebrow and the tiniest shake of her head made her relent and get in the car. Enid's more protective tendencies were better to stay unaddressed, doing so would lead her to be embarrassed and try to suppress them which in turn made her anxious and jittery.

Wednesday had no time for that.

“So…why this town?” Enid asked once she got comfortable in the front seat. 

Bianca shrugged. “My girlfriend lived here her whole life…her and her roommate.”

Wednesday frowned. Though Everett was a rather large city, its witch community kept themselves rather closed off and knowing they killed a member who had been away the week she stepped into the city for the holidays was weird.

“Brittany too? Right?” Enid asked, fingers fidgeting on the armrest. 

Bianca nodded. “She and her fiancee, Cory, were finishing up their med internship in Seattle. Layla said they usually spend Christmas with her family.”

“So we’ll be able to talk to him,” Wednesday mused from her place, depending on the kind of relationship they had it would be possible for him to know about her coven and whereabouts. 

“Won’t that be kinda insensitive?” Enid muttered.

“You didn't seem to care as much last time,” Wednesday pointed out.

“They specifically wanted us there. We don't know if he knows we're coming.”

“He does,” Bianca reassured, gentle fingertips tapping Enid's thigh.

Enid breathed out in relief. Wednesday understood, if she was trying to enjoy the holidays right after her fiancee had been brutally murdered and she had to handle questions from meddling investigators alongside with the already invasive police force, she would retaliate with at least some of the knives in her coat's inner linings. She repressed a shudder at the memory of her family trying to comfort her through Nero's passing.

“So,” Enid shimmied her shoulders. “Layla, huh?” She giggled.

Wednesday could see from her seat the way the back of Bianca's neck almost blushed and she spluttered in flustered embarrassment. She mentally checked out from the conversation, the last thing she needed was to have yet another example of why love was the grossest of emotions.

She noted how excited Enid looked to talk about it, how let out little sounds every time Bianca got to an interesting part of the story and the splitting grin on her lips. Wednesday leaned sideways to notice a strange emotional response in Enid's clear eyes, a bit like longing, a bit like want. 

For what? Wednesday didn't know.

Ever since figuring herself out, Enid had yet to find a paramour suited to her interests, Wednesday knew it wasn't for the lack of options. 

A breath out and she decided to expunge that idea as a whole from her mind, something about it left her feeling infuriated – an emotion she, surprisingly, wasn't very fond of. It lacked the finesse loathing and disgust possessed.

Instead, she paid attention to their surroundings. The exact precinct Bianca had told her was handling the case stood midway through the airport and their destination, if bigger cities stuck to the same shift schedule as small cities, she and Enid would be able to go in and out that very same night. 

If they were quick enough, it would give Wednesday time to have a look through their cold cases as well. Cities like this, not quite metropolitan and yet not small, always had some interesting things going on. Maybe she'd find something fun enough to investigate in liminal space between cases.

Bianca and Enid kept talking. 

Wednesday focused on the back of Enid's head and allowed her mind to remember where Viper was in the novel, currently. Her and Evelyn's relationship kept growing in a weird way that Wednesday couldn't quite control. There was something almost alluring in letting her character act by themselves, letting them grow in a way that challenged her as a writing.

The problem was that she felt stuck with their development, mostly. There were scenes she didn't quite know how to write, maybe it came from a lack of personal experience or interest. 

She sighed almost silently, Wednesday would have to focus solely on that chapter the moment she got back home.

𓌜

Bianca’s girlfriend, Layla, was waiting for them in the parking lot. She had this calmness about her that at least assured Wednesday it wouldn’t be an overload of noise for their entire stay. Bianca was usually able to stay silent, but she got into this nasty habit of gossiping in their senior year that she just couldn’t seem to shed once Enid was near.

Layla waved them over, brown skin almost fully covered by her comically oversized jacket, Wednesday could guess she stood just barely three inches taller than three of them. Her fingers shook as she opened the door for Bianca and Wednesday mentally nodded in approval, she had learned the bad way that a relationship with at least a tenth of her parents’ dedication and devotion to one another was preferable to the opposite. 

Enid jumped off her seat and opened Wednesday’s door on her way to the trunk. She couldn’t help but roll her eyes and huff an amused breath, Wednesday knew it was likely a mockery of the happy couple now exchanging hushed whispers of affections, she felt her stomach rolling and a snarl forming on her lips. Bianca was happy, it was what mattered.

“Oh my god! Hi,” Enid excitedly exclaimed, hands dropping their bags carefully to direct the stranger into a warm hug. “Love the hijabi,” she pointed at the fabric covering Layla’s hair. “I can never find hair dye this color,” she pouted,

Layla let out a similar squeal, Wednesday crossed over her previous impression of the woman. No quiet whatsoever.

“You’re so nice. Enid, right?” A coo. “Thank you, by the way, I love your hair too…I think this one is prussian blue, maybe?”

“Nice! I was–”

“Greetings,” Wednesday interrupted, Enid could keep people trapped into banal conversations for hours and they didn’t have time for that. It was late afternoon and she still needed to take a look into those files. “I’m glad we are all decently acquainted now. I would argue for shelter lest we want Bianca to permanently be consumed by frostbite and though it would be cause of celebration for me, it would also unfortunately derail my plans.”

Bianca spluttered, thoroughly offended she had to be the sacrifice but Wednesday focused her eyes on Enid, hoping she got the message.

Layla just chuckled and waved again at her, maybe already aware of her usual aversion to touch. “And you must be Wednesday. Bianca talks about you sometimes,” another little laugh. She didn’t understand what was so funny but the smugness of being an important subject in her friend’s life burned inside out. “C’mon,” she directed them to the elevator.

She hurried, uncaring to even grab her things on the ground, Enid would whine and complain if she had taken them anyway. It was a matter of avoiding headaches. Her ears caught a faint whisper in the background, it’s okay. She waits for your texts too. Wednesday would have to remind Enid that some things could be considered betrayal, this was one of them.

The apartment was warm, Wednesday refused to admit it was much easier for her to withstand such weather than take on the cold outside. The blankets on the couch made everything feel…cozy, if she dared to gag on such word, and gave the feeling of seeing those monstrosities her horrified brother once showed her, the cocoa and marshmallows and the stupid main character trading a well adjusted partner for a christmas tree farm manager she knew in her high school days. 

Bile rose on her throat and she slowly shook her head, as disgusting as it sounded, she did find the possibility of choking herself on warm blankets enticing.

They were kind enough to show the guest room Enid and Wednesday would stay in, she raised an eyebrow at the sole twin bed but ultimately shrugged. It wouldn’t be the first time they shared a bed…just the first time they shared a bed for non traumatic events related reasons and it would probably be fine. 

She still remembered the first time it happened. It was the first night after turning Enid back; her form was meeker than before, hair shagged and colorless, limbs shaking and unable to hold themselves up from disuse. Wednesday bathed her carefully, making sure to not look beyond what was utilitarian out of respect, she noted the several cuts and newer scars on her back and torso – probably made by bears or other wolves, if she looked further she would be able to tell exactly what had hurt her friend, she wouldn’t though, Enid deserved some privacy – the gunshot wound on her thigh was already scabbed over so she didn’t have to worry much about stitching it.

Enid had been jumpy for the longest time, growling and ready to run at the slightest hint of noise, Wednesday couldn’t withstand it for long. So she did the only thing she could, got up from the cold floor and joined Enid on her bed.

She didn't sleep that first night, too worried about having to save her friend from her own mind, and it proved to be the correct thing to do. Enid started thrashing around about an hour into her sleep, claws lengthening and dangerously close to her own face, a thin line of blood tickling from her cheek. Wednesday straddled her quickly, hoping the added weight would help ground her, and held her wrists with firm hands.

Enid woke up in a frenzy, her body acted on its own it seemed and threw Wednesday off her onto the floor, she could barely think as Enid pounced on her, a growling rumble leaving her throat, teeth bared and claws way too close to get throat. If it weren't for her terrified eyes, Wednesday would think this was the most beautiful she'd ever seen her friend be.

Enid seemed to disagree as she jumped away from her in even more shaky panic after sniffing once or twice, her voice cracking as she apologized countless times and Wednesday tried her best to reassure her. It really wasn't a big deal, if anything, the situation was enough to let Wednesday in on something she already knew – she wasn't in the slightest bit scared of Enid.

Wednesday convinced Enid to come back to bed and the wolf stipulated one condition, either Wednesday held her wrist to avoid her from scratching herself or Wednesday or Enid would go down to the dungeons and score herself the heaviest chains the Addams had.

Wednesday refused to treat her like a badly behaved mutt and so, their nightly sleepovers started until they got to Nevermore and Enid felt confident enough to sleep on her own.

This time would probably be just like those others. Maybe with a little less touch involved since Enid learned to fully control herself.

So Wednesday shrugged and walked out, only catching parts of the ever going conversation around her.

“Wait– it's been what? Six? Seven months and you already want to live together? That's crazy,” Enid exclaimed.

“Lesbians move fast,” Bianca replied. “You’d know.”

“First of all, fuck you. You know it's not like that,” Enid sassed back. “Second. You're literally not a lesbian.”

“But my girlfriend is.”

Then she tuned them out. One thing she didn't miss at all about Nevermore was the constant inane conversations.

“Whoa, where are you going?” Layla asked once Wednesday reached the front door again.

She glared. “I think you'll prefer to have plausible deniability.”

Bianca paused, looked at Enid and raised an eyebrow. “And you're just…going with this?”

Enid sighed, the suffering and exasperation on it making Wednesday suppress a smile. “I didn't have a choice.”

“And I don't have time for this. Let's go, Enid,” Wednesday commanded, hands reaching for the car keys Bianca had dropped inside a little glass bowl earlier.

“Nope,” Bianca made sure to pop the P. “My car won't be an accomplice. Take the bus.”

Wednesday's fingers reached for the dragged in her sleeve and Bianca should count herself lucky Enid managed to predict that and pull her outside of the apartment by the other sleeve and close the door. The dagger hit the wood, standing exactly where Bianca's forehead had been. Wednesday felt herself glowering, mostly because she refused to standby public transportation schedules, it was at times like these she missed Lurch the most.

Enid just got her weapon back and reached for her sleeve again to drag her all the way outside, both hands occupied and she still managed to text something or other on her phone. Probably reassuring their friend they would pay to fix the door before they left. Wednesday wouldn't, it wasn't her problem.

Enid only let her go to look out the street and then grabbed her again when she spotted what she wanted. Wednesday kept silent as she was manhandled into the backseat of a car, she didn't know if this was a kidnapping attempt but her heart fluttered all the same.

Enid confirmed an address to whoever was the driver and all Wednesday could do was look out the window. The grip on her sleeve didn't lighten at all, she couldn't even be mad about it. Not when she started to recognize their path.

The man dropped them off in a cafeteria, two blocks away from the precinct they needed to be at and maybe something in Wednesday's expression gave her confusion away because Enid immediately let her go and stepped a whole foot away from her.

“Sorry! I just had to make sure you were coming,” Enid nervously giggled and Wednesday wondered when they started to be nervous around each other.

She wanted to scoff, she maybe did, her mouth seemed to move on its own. “As if I wouldn't follow you.”

“And you have the audacity to say you're not sappy.”

Wednesday almost retched, the vision of herself with her Father's mustache and pinstripe suit kissing up someone's arm made her have to curl her hand into a fist and put it in front of her mouth to fully avoid throwing up.

“Never,” she growled once her nausea passed. “And I mean never offend me like this again.”

Enid just giggled again and started walking into the coffee shop, not even looking back to see if she was following along. Wednesday was. Her legs moved on their own, as if Enid – despite being the canine between the two – held the leash tightly wound around her neck.

The place leaned hard into the whole aesthetic Enid loved to show her every other day, with plants scrawled on the walls and neon signs and more people wearing buns than Wednesday was strictly comfortable with. The coffee smell was fairly decent, though and maybe this wouldn't all be for nothing.

Enid walked alone to the register before Wednesday could reach for her wallet and she ultimately shrugged, both of them used the Addams family funds card anyway. So she just searched for the table farthest away from everyone else and made a point to not make eye contact with whoever was watching her, even if she normally would relish in their uncomfortableless these people seemed like they would take it as invite for conversation regardless of how displeased she looked and she had enough of that for a lifetime.

Enid handed her an iced quad and put down a monstrosity of sugar, caffeine and food colorant on the table before sitting down on the chair in front of hers. There was a glint in her eyes and a smirk pulling on her lips.

Wednesday took a sip. It was good, a Colombian blend pleasantly bitter and sugarless if not for the slight hint of cinnamon. Just how she liked it.

“Why are we here?” Was all she asked once she put down her drink.

“Well…we can't just Uber to our,” then she leaned in and whispered. “B&E target,” Enid learned away again. “It would be evidence against us, silly.”

They had around half an hour until shift change. The precinct would never be empty, but it'd be enough for them to look around unnoticed.

Wednesday nodded, Enid was finally using her ability of forethought now. What a surprise.

They sat there for about ten more minutes, just enough for them to finish their drinks and Enid dragged her out again, maybe it was just nervousness. Though Wednesday didn’t understand why, it wasn’t the first time they would break into somewhere they shouldn’t. 

They could see uniformed cops walking in and out of the building, most of them stopped to talk amongst each other, Wednesday could count ten of them separated into groups near the entrance. It would be easy to slip in, they just had to be quiet and not give anything away.

She looked at Enid with narrowed eyes, a single head tilt towards the door and luckily the wolf was rather adept at her wordless communication because she followed without hesitating, her feet silent on the floor. They managed to bypass the front desk and got all the way to the last detective’s desk until a man – tall, slim, white, blonde with round brown eyes – showed up from the very file room they were trying to enter. His uniform was squeaky clean, the badge almost sparkled under the lights and the name R. Callaghan stared back at them. The last desk they passed had his name plaque, she didn't understand why a detective would wear a uniform but it wasn't her business.

His eyes widened the tiniest bit but he smiled, surprisingly welcoming, and put the manila folder on his hands on the top of the desk they just passed. His hands jumped to his hips and Wednesday could see Enid’s shoulders tensing, his holster was just in reach, she reached for Enid’s sleeves, the pink of her hoodie burned but it seemed more important to avoid the wolf from revealing her claws.

“My, my,” he chuckled. “You two must be the P.Is the Hudsons hired, hiya!”

He had a slight British accent, Scouse maybe, and an overall friendly manner. Wednesday didn’t know what to think about him but Enid still seemed to have her guard up, she shook her head and smiled at him. Wednesday understood the constant comparisons Enid got to a golden retriever but she followed her lead and tried to seem marginally more approachable. 

“Oh, yes! Hi! We weren’t aware they talked about us,” Enid giggled a little, in that fake and overtly excited way she sometimes did to trick guys into paying for her beverages on the Weathervane. “I’m Sinclair, my partner here’s Addams. I hope we can work together.”

“Sure, sure,” he led them to his desk and pulled two chairs so they could sit together. Wednesday took note of the way Enid made sure to get close enough their shoulders brushed. “I’m genuinely glad they called you two ladies up. I, myself, am not that familiar with outcast and witch culture so it can get quite difficult to fully analyze the case.”

“Yeah, I get that. We’re here to help, though. I’m sure both of us just want to get this guy as soon as possible,” Enid gently added.

“Yes,” Wednesday spoke for the first time that evening. “It would be of great assistance if we could see the evidence you have on it.”

“Why yes,” he promptly answered. “You also could tell me what you have and we can work on filling the gaps.”

Wednesday gritted her teeth, her palm was starting to blister and this man was already pissing her off. Enid put a hand on her wrist and smiled at him again, eyes solemn.

“Unfortunately all we have is what the family told us. As we aren’t official personnel we can’t really access your reports,” she pouted a little bit. “Which totally sucks because we really just want to help…I’m sure you can understand.”

Sometimes Wednesday wished had half as much mastery when it came to people as Enid did. Ever since fully awakening her Alpha instincts it seemed as if it increased tenfold and Wednesday would be foolish to not let her handle their negotiations.

Officer Callaghan blushed a little, Wednesday felt like she could set him on fire. He was probably double their age. 

“Sure, ladies! I'll be right back,” he promptly answered and left with a pep in his step.

“I don't like or trust him,” Wednesday muttered once he was far enough.

“I know,” Enid sighed. “But we need a good relationship with him to get what you need.”

She hummed in affirmation. Ever since the first time she had to do this, Wednesday got a little more suspicious of people who enjoyed helping so much, especially men. He came back before she could say or think much more on the matter, his hands full with pictures that he promptly scattered on the desk before them. There was nothing different from what they already had. It wasn’t surprising, Enid and Agnes had hacked it off their system after all, but still, Wednesday felt a pang of disappointment in her at it. 

Officer Callaghan started droning on and on about them, he mentioned the very same things they did but at least he looked interested enough about them. There was no mention of the other murders. Wednesday lightly grazed her inner cheek with her canines and pondered about mentioning it at all.

She took a closer look at the pictures instead, there was one of them that had a slightly different angle than the others ones. Brittany’s corpse was being photographed from the upper right and under her left foot Wednesday could see the top of a white sheet of paper, maybe folded or ripped, but it was the very same thick type of paper she used on her own typewriter – high quality, intentional, meaningful somehow. 

And the fact that they had no other proof that the thing even existed at all ticked all the boxes and raised all the type of red flags Wednesday could have in her consciousness, she made sure to glance at Enid from the very corner of her eyes and found the very same suspiciousness in hers.

“So,” Enid started once he finished. “Is this like– a one off thing?”

“Wha–what do you mean?” He stumbled.

Wednesday jumped in, the amount of psychology books she read had to be worth something. “I don’t know…” she sighed. “It seems to be too well executed to be an amateur."

“Oh, yeah…maybe?” He scratched the back of his neck. Either hiding something or just too nervous even thinking about the possibility of a loose serial killer in the neighbourhood.

“Callaghan…if you have something, please let’s work together,” Enid said softly, a hand out to gently touch the tip of her fingers to the back of his hand.

He sighed but got up and pointed to a more secluded meeting room. Wednesday didn’t like the idea of being alone with him very much but the shift was so slow the majority of the team was in the bullpen. She could see his hands fidgeting with a much thicker manila folder.

He spread them methodically on the table once he closed the blinds and locked the door. Wednesday catalogued the same pictures they had again but each set had one addition. She froze whilst she read them, the papers were intentional.

In every lump there was a note, written in a more modern model of the typewriter Wednesday herself used. The letter S was a little darker than the others, the key was probably jammed. Not a very good owner it seemed.

Alma Greyson’s note was rectangular and pointedly short. Do not allow a sorceress to live. 

Dinah Miyoung Huh’s was longer. It had to be found by the medical examiners, according to Callaghan it was stuck beneath the heavy drapes of clothing. The acts of the flesh are obvious: sexual immorality, impurity and debauchery; idolatry and witchcraft; hatred, discord, jealousy, fits of rage, selfish ambition, dissensions, factions. The word witchcraft had been highlighted by hand, Wednesday couldn’t discern the penmanship.

Shayla Mansfied’s was apparently found on the bench right beneath her. The wording was more aggressive and Wednesday thought it maybe had to do with her rank more than anything. I will destroy your witchcraft and you will no longer cast spells. Potion work was one of the practices more directly related to the craft part in witchcraft, alongside rune work.

Brittany Hudson’s was the longest one. The paper had been folded like a letter. Let no one be found among you who sacrifices their son or daughter in the fire, who practices divination or sorcery, interprets omens, engages in witchcraft, or casts spells, or who is a medium or spiritist or who consults the dead. Anyone who does these things is detestable. Wednesday frowned.

“This is–” Enid started.

“Incompleate,” Wednesday interrupted.

“I was gonna say familiar.”

“That’s because it’s straight from the Bible…but the last one is incomplete. It’s missing half of the original verse.”

Enid blinked, not that taken aback but more so amused. “You actually read the Bible?”

Wednesday nodded, not really understanding the surprise. Her hand started to itch. “I read every religious scripture I could find before my tenth birthday.”

“Okay…I did not grow up religious. Where are we going here?” Callaghan made himself present.

Wednesday knew Enid was half lost as well, most wolves weren’t exactly Christian, their own goddess, Selene, had far more importance to them than the ones normies worshipped. She tried to recall her time sitting in front of the fireplace, reading different sacred books, mostly to try to understand where this all came from.

“Because of these same detestable practices the Lord your God will drive out those nations before you. You must be blameless before the Lord your God. The nations you will dispossess listen to those who practice sorcery or divination. But as for you, the Lord your God has not permitted you to do so.” Wednesday recited.

She watched as the officer’s face fell.

Enid’s eyes widened before she scoffed. “If I had a dollar for every time we helped the outcasts against a genocidal manic I’d have two dollars…which isn’t a lot but it’s very weird it happened twice.”

Wednesday nodded in concession but Callaghan spluttered. “I– oh my god…” he sighed, his radio showed some sign of life and leveled them with a serious look. “Listen, I will trust the two of you because I am investigating this by myself and as I said, I don't know enough about outcasts. The captain doesn’t think there’s a connection and won’t allow me to keep going.” They nodded and he gave out a tight smile. “I’m only here tonight to cover for a friend but we can meet tomorrow evening to think of something. I– here’s my number.”

He handed a card to Enid and they shared a simple handshake, Wednesday just looked at him and motioned her friend to follow her outside. Her hand burned.

Enid was silent the whole way back. The difference between her behavior on their way to the precinct and then was stark. Their shoulders had the whole space of the middle seat separating them.

The apartment was quiet when they got in, a post-it note letting them know Bianca and Layla were out to get food was their only host and Wednesday almost breathed out in relief for the pseudo solitude. Enid's hands were suddenly on her sleeve, again, and Wednesday found herself being manhandled, again, into their borrowed room.

Enid washed her own hands and grabbed the ointment Morticia made from her own bag. Her touch was careful but she made sure just to spread it on Wednesday’s blistering palm herself. 

She tried not to notice how gentle Enid was, how her finger massaged but made sure to never hurt and, most importantly, why she allowed this in the first place. Being taken care of had always felt a little too overwhelming – too much attention, too much touch, too much proximity, too much consideration – but maybe because Enid made sure to not make eye contact and be objective it wasn't that bad. Maybe.

She only spoke after pulling away and watching as Wednesday relaxed her fingers a little, the coolness of the balm contrasted so painfully with the burns, it was pleasant.

“You should've said something,” Enid muttered.

“And let precious intel go to waste?” Wednesday raised an eyebrow.

Enid sighed. Defeated. “Alright…what are the chances our guy's working alone?”

“Slim to none. If they were, the emphasis on the notes wouldn't be on God but on themselves.”

“Great,” Enid groaned and threw herself on the bed.

“Please go take a shower. You’ll make our bed stink like police department.”

She had very rarely seen Enid get up that quickly, it was almost entertaining. 

𓌜

Wednesday remembered they slept side by side, her on her back as always and Enid curled on her side, a good few inches between their bodies. She remembered waking up twice, once when Enid left about two in the morning if her biological clock was accurate – it was – and then when she got back an hour and a half later. Which was exactly why she didn’t understand how they got to be in this specific situation.

Wednesday woke up feeling a pleasant pressure on her back and torso, it reminded her of the time she wrestled with a boa constrictor or when Uncle Fester gifted her first straightjacket. In that awful space in between consciousness and sleep she fully opened her eyes after feeling her fingers squeezing someone else’s. She knew it was Enid, it was impossible not to be, Wednesday would never – not even in sleep – allow herself to be this close to someone else.

She sighed after realizing their position. Enid was hugging her from behind, spooning her, legs around each other’s and their hands tightly intertwined. Wednesday could tell from the way it was positioned that she was probably the one to pull her friend in and to stop her from escaping. Still, she felt…oddly comfortable, Enid’s body was a furnace, the heat almost as pleasant as freezing outside and the gentle breaths hitting the very top of her head were lulling her into sleep again. Wednesday decided it wouldn’t be that bad if she napped, a rested detective was a good detective after all.

Wednesday’s eyes opened again when she heard the door and she, despite knowing she wasn’t at all intimidating in that specific moment, glared at whoever dared to interrupt them. Layle seemed apologetic enough, her eyes soft and mouth in a tight smile.

“Sorry,” she mouthed. “But we made breakfast.”

Wednesday nodded at her, small and almost imperceptible, but Layla nodded back and left without question. She was glad it was her who caught them in such a vulnerable position, if it were Bianca there would certainly be some pictures circling around their friend group by now. 

Enid hugged her a little tighter, cheek brushing against the top of her head and Wednesday tried not to preen at the way she was being scented. Enid hummed and just nuzzled her once she was done.

“Morning,” she mumbled.

“Howdy,” Wednesday muttered back. An unnatural desire to turn around and bury her face against Enid’s neck to try and get the most out of her scent surged into her and for once, maybe because she was still a little sleep-addled, Wednesday decided to not deny it. It was just the two of them, it wouldn’t kill her to do something she actually wanted for once.

So she turned slowly, giving herself time to opt out of it entirely – it wasn't that she craved touch, that would be a ludicrous idea, but she…wanted this in this specific moment. And it was new and her heart raced, it was terrifying. Enid threatened to let her go, maybe out of fear of crossing her boundaries, so Wednesday had to hold the sleeve on her upper arm with a loose fist.

She could feel Enid's smile from where she was and maybe it was their proximity that allowed Enid to make the last move and pull her in. Wednesday almost breathed out in relief, eyes closing as her nose touched the column of Enid's neck, she could smell it then, the hint of pine and snow she had come to closely associate with comfort.

Enid touched the tip of her nose on the top of her head, a hint of a suppressed squeal coming out with her breath and Wednesday almost had the thought to just leave because of it. The idea that Enid was perceiving her as cute or worse was almost revolting, at least that was what she guessed the sudden swirl in her stomach had come from.

Enid tightened her hold on her before she turned them so she could lay on her back, Wednesday partially on top of her. She closed her eyes, seeing Enid's face then, so close to hers, would be overwhelming to say the least. She wondered if that was what all of Enid's (and hers) friends felt when they had cuddle sessions. It probably was.

“I hate to put an end to this, believe me. But Bianca's saying she'll come here soon if we don't get up and I know you wouldn't want her to see you being a normal human, huh,” Enid said, voice soft, maybe out of fear if she spoke any louder Wednesday would jump and run like  a frightened cat.

She hated that the assumption wouldn't be all that wrong and hated even more she had to keep using words like maybe and probably because being sure of anything ever in these situations was so very difficult.

Wednesday hummed in affirmation but closed her eyes, the travel had left her tired and allergic reactions, as small as they could be, left her exhausted sometimes. She wouldn't mind if she lost the morning at all, they could search for hate groups in the afternoon, Agnes would be busy with classes now anyway. So she silently let her body relax and hoped Enid got the message.

The last thing she heard and felt was Enid growling at whoever opened the door and tightening the hold on her. The pressure of her arms made Wednesday’s body give up on being alert at all, she was lying with an apex predator after all, and the rumble coming from Enid's chest was the cherry on top to lull her into full sleep again.

𓌜

The next time she woke up it was almost noon and she was alone in bed. Wednesday liked to think of herself as someone rather impassive, so the urge to pout at the cold bed was eerie. 

It took less than half a minute for Enid to show up, opening the door with a grin.

“Great! You woke up.”

Wednesday grumbled. “Where were you?”

“A girl has to pee sometimes, y’know?” Enid chuckled. “Also I was making lunch with the girls so c’mon.”

Wednesday nodded and tided herself before walking out, there was no way she would let herself be seen with bleary eyes and messy braids. She did have a reputation to uphold.

“–you two are really choosing to trust a guy on this?” Wednesday could hear Layla’s voice from the hallway.

“It’s not like we have other options,” she sighed. “He texted me today and said that he can take us to the morgue without it being, y’know? A crime.”

“When do we leave?” Was the first thing Wednesday said and she relished in the way Layla and Bianca jumped.

“Seven, I think. We’ll meet him in a park and then we’ll head to the morgue,” Enid shrugged.

“So…let me get this straight,” Bianca sighed, hands on her hips and a raised eyebrow. “The two of you will leave to meet a random man alone at night? Two brains and neither of them have survival instincts.”

Enid scoff. “I’m literally a werewolf.”

“You’re more like a puppy to be honest,” Layla patted her head and Enid cried out mockingly outraged. 

Wednesday just rolled her eyes and grabbed the sandwich resting on the table.

“She’s right,” she said in between bites, without taking her eyes off her plate. “However, Enid in her full form is a magnificent weapon.”

Enid gasped, dramatic through and through. A hand to her chest.

“Alright…interrupting whatever gay bullshit is going on here,” Bianca started. Enid spluttered and Wednesday decided not to think about it. “Are you sure this won’t be another…y’know…T situation?”

Wednesday looked up at that, feeling her throat lumped around the bite of her sandwich. She really did despise thinking of that time, of her foolishness.

“No,” Enid almost growled. Every time she remembered or someone mentioned what happened she turned almost feral, Wednesday never failed to feel bugs crawling in her bloodstream at it.

Wednesday raised a hand and touched her uncovered wrist, grounding Enid enough for the rumbling to stop.

“Hardly. For one, he doesn’t doubt our claims. And for two, from what it has appeared, not only has he yet to show any desire to shape any choice we could have, it is also unlikely he is our suspect.”

“Are you sure?” Layla asked, her eyes solemn. “I don't know who that guy is or what happened, but you gotta be careful.”

Wednesday nodded. “I have three reasons for it. He didn’t show recognition when Enid introduced us and anyone who has any sort of knowledge on witchery would. Two, he didn’t try to dismiss the other crimes. Three, he was genuinely confused about some of the evidence, he couldn’t be the one to do it.”

“His captain, though…” Enid sighed.

Wednesday tightened her lips. It was a possibility and it had gone through her head but if they were looking for a group, specially a religious one with a clear agenda, there was a chance he either thought these things didn’t happen outside of movies or he was hoping their goal was done for so he wouldn’t have to work with the feds. Or, he could have a relative inside the group or be in it himself. 

She didn’t think he was the one doing the murders, it would be rather difficult for him to manage the precinct and a cult at the same time. Besides, she had heard him talk during the shift change, he wasn’t nearly charismatic enough to pull it off. 

If they were coming for the leader, they’d have to look for an intelligent and charismatic man with enough free time to do the job. She doubted he allowed others to do the purging for him, it’d be part of his whole persona and one of the reasons people followed him – bigots loved the ones who had the courage to ‘do what had to be done’ and ‘say what had to be said’. They did the things they themselves weren’t brave enough to do.

The problem would be proving it.

From the tremendous amount of research on her childhood years, Wednesday knew most cults didn't have records much less anything to count as evidence. If they were lucky, the leader would want to be done by the end of the year to start the bigger cleanse.

“Okay. Will you two need us?” Bianca asked. Wednesday knew she could be more than useful despite still retaining from using her powers. Layla nodded without questioning further.

Wednesday didn't want to put her friends in danger, she still didn't fully know what they were gearing up for, and though a werecat would be more than useful it probably wouldn't bode well. Human decency, overall politeness and their friendly personalities were what kept Enid and Layla from clashing but both their animalistic sides were significantly more territorial and Wednesday would rather keep the peace this one time.

She didn't know if the scent of a canine would make Layla react in any way but Wednesday was Enid's pack and the wolf would certainly retaliate against any scent of another predator near her. 

“We can handle it,” Enid assured after looking at her. “I really don't want you guys involved with this.”

“Layla, can we know a bit more about Brittany?” Wednesday asked after a beat of silence.

“Oh! Um…she was shy at first, we weren't that close. I remember my roommate liked her a lot, they used to talk during recess every day since she started dating Cory…I can call him,” Layla shrugged.

Enid looked at her and Wednesday nodded. It would be best if they finished with this part soon. They already knew he wasn't a suspect, a meeting face to face wasn’t of utmost importance.

Layla talked to him for a few minutes, normal things, asking about his family and if he had company for the holiday. He had, Brittany's family would still host him with open arms and hearts. Then she put the phone on speaker and they introduced themselves.

“Did you ever notice anything weird? Like a car following you or something Brittany said that put her on alert?” Enid asked.

“Not really,” he sighed. “Brittany was one of those people who didn't really pay attention to anything she didn't think was important…maybe if she had…”

“There was nothing you could've done,” was all Wednesday could say. “Did she have any relationship with any coven? Be it here or Seattle.”

“No. Britt was one of those people who never really learned how to use her magic,” his voice cracked a little and he cleared his throat with a cough. “She um…she had a bad experience with gre-green magic? Like, she never really talked about it but she told me if she wasn't good at it, she'd never play with the limits of life like that.”

“I understand,” Wednesday sighed. And she did. What a shame. “What about her family? How many of them were witches?”

“They never actually talked about it, but I know her grandma has some runes tattooed and one of her aunts lives in the woods with some other witches but that was it.”

“One last thing…” Enid started, voice tone incredibly apologetic. “Would Brittany maybe stop somewhere to help someone or maybe deviate from her routine to see a friend you don't know about?”

He paused for a moment.

“Now that you mention it…she was texting me a few minutes before she disappeared. She said– wait,” Cory hummed a little as he likely searched for their conversation. “Here. ‘Omg, babe. I just saw a woman falling from her bike. I'll help her out and get back before dinner, okay? Love ya.’”

His voice cracked on the last sentence, Wednesday had a few more questions but Enid shook her head once at her. 

“Thank you, Cory. We'll handle it from here, I'm sorry for your loss,” Enid finished and hung up the phone, he had started sobbing and neither of them were quite ready to deal with that.

“They are using injuries as a ruse,” Layla mused aloud.

Wednesday hummed. “Oldest trick in the book,” then she sighed. “I know the two major covens in the city. I have to talk to them.”

Enid started getting up, “I’ll be ready in five.”

Wednesday shook her head and stifled a groan. She knew her friend and knew how much more paranoid she had turned over the course of their last year – not only that, Wednesday, as part of the Addams clan, was probably a waking red target for this suspect in specific.

Going alone wouldn’t be doable at all. Wednesday had learned a long time ago that picking lost battles was foolishness.

“Bianca will accompany me.”

“She will?” Enid raised an eyebrow.

“I will?” Bianca pointed at herself.

“Yes,” it was neither a question nor a plea. “We will visit Coven Hilton and Gray, Bianca will drop me off where we agreed to meet Callaghan before the sunset. You, Agnes and Layla, if she so wishes, may research online hate groups or signs of a cult particularly hateful towards witchery based on Christianism.” Then Wednesday looked right at Enid and allowed herself an almost shrug. “We may have dinner together.”

“Well…I don’t know if I’ll be of any help,” Layla chuckled.

Bianca sighed and looked once at her Wednesday didn’t budge from the eye contact and when she noticed it wouldn’t get her anywhere she sighed, thoroughly done with it all and got up to grab the car keys. Wednesday preened and smugly shot Enid a smirk at the victory.

𓌜

For the record, Wednesday didn’t think Bianca should’ve been handed her drivers license at all and whoever her instructor was should be immediately fired and probably stoned. Maybe she had been too tired to notice on the drive back to the airport or her mind was too busy to pay attention to anything other than her own thoughts.

It wasn’t that she was reckless, it would certainly be better if she was. But Wednesday could swear people on bicycles were able to get around faster than them and the streets were relatively empty. She didn’t know what Bianca was scared of but it was starting to grate on her nerves.

“You do know the car drives faster than 27 miles per hour, right?” Wednesday grumbled.

“And if I knew where I was going I would, but you suck with the map,” Bianca snapped back.

Wednesday just rolled her eyes and told her to turn left. She sort of regretted not bringing Enid along, but she knew Coven Hilton specifically had a particular vendetta against wolves since a nasty territory fight broke out seventy or so years before. She didn’t blame them at all, if her coven had been sixty percent wiped out and the perpetrators walked almost scot free, she too wouldn’t want to be particularly friendly with a werewolf, nevermind a rogue one, for at least another century.

Wednesday pointed to a large house, almost a manor, on the very end of the street. They were as far from civilization as the city limits allowed, hoping whatever they found here would be enough to not need to get too close to Coven Gray. A deep breath in and out and she groaned, ready to turn on charm she didn’t have at all. Bianca groaned once and left the car with the very same stressed demeanor she had when leaving the apartment.

“Are you sure about this?” She sighed.

“Trust me,” Wednesday mumbled as they approached the heavy wooden doors.

Wednesday didn’t knock. She wouldn’t need to. An old crone opened the door, one of her eyes, the left one, appeared to be completely taken by Cataract and the other was not that far behind. Her white hair was neatly arranged in a bun and her colorful outfit draped gently over her frame.

“Addams, huh?” The woman’s voice croaked almost in a laugh. “It’s been a while since I last saw one of ya. Tell your old lady she owes me a game of chess.”

Wednesday forced herself to chuckle, knowing her dimples were on display. Old witches just loved the sense of control, she could see it in the way the woman’s shoulders slackened a little. Both of them ignored the way Bianca’s eyes widened and the genuinely terrified way she laughed along.

“Grandmama spoke fondly of you, Madam. I will make sure to pass on your regards,” Wednesday lightly courtised. Sometimes older covens like this one found it necessary to keep some form of tradition and hierarchy, Wednesday wouldn’t be the one to disrespect it, not if she needed some sort of answer from them.

Wednesday lightly hit Bianca’s arm with her own, a furrow on her eyebrows as she nodded at the woman. Incredulity lightning her eyes.

“O-oh right,” Bianca cleared her throat. “Hello, um…m-madam.”

The woman laughed. “It’s alright, child. I knew from the moment I set my eyes on ya, you are no witch,” she took a long look at the both of them and sombered, functioning eye straight on Wednesday. “What can I do for you, little Addams?”

“My friend and I are investigating the murders happening in the area. I am sure you are aware of them and I have some questions regarding livelihood and weird presence around.”

“I might,” a narrow of her eyebrows. “You know…the girls talk. But the coven is safe.”

Wednesday bit the inside of her cheek and tried her best to smile, she knew it didn’t quite work, the muscles of her face weren’t all that used to the motion. 

“Not for long,” she deadpanned. “And I know you, more than anyone else, are well aware of who the next targets are, Madam. Respectfully.”

The woman almost smiled at that. Yet. “The most I can tell ya, Kid, is that I had to make some punks in white vans leave my garage more than a few times.”

She nodded, ready to take her leave, from her childhood experiences, she wouldn’t be able to get more out of an unwilling coven head. The most she could get was probably a curse, a mild one mostly because of her status but it would be irritating nonetheless.

“What are you hiding?” Bianca suddenly asked and Wednesday had half a mind to hit her. The siren’s voice turned a little forceful, but never once she threatened to use her powers. “I’m serious. Why are you withholding information that could help not only save your coven but also your kind. What is wrong with you?”

Wednesday was genuinely regretting every single life choice that led her to that specific place in that specific moment, maybe she should’ve killed her brother’s bullies in a secluded place instead of making a show out of it – curse her ever so dramatic genes. But the old crone smiled, she cackled and threw her head back in amused laughter.

“Now, that’s a fish with some spine, hm? Tell ya what, Little Addams, you choose good friends,” another laugh. “You have a good eye, child,” she pointed at Bianca.

Wednesday seethed at the way Bianca preened, unfortunately the conversation was too important to do much else.

“You have yet to answer the question, Madam,” she reiterated.

The Crone smirked. “Well…I saw, in the way we often do, the darling Little Ritchie in one of those vans.”

Wednesday narrowed her eyes.

“The oldest or the youngest?” Bianca asked.

“The river flows where the source allows, my dear…blood is but a pesky little fluid when you drown in the water,” She winked at them and the door closed.

Bianca stood confused for half a second before she started banging on the door. Wednesday shook her head.

“Stop wasting your breath, let's go,” she demanded and Bianca groaned before following her to the car. 

“What the fuck did she mean?” Bianca slammed the door. 

“Ritchie, whoever he is, has at least one adopted child who is involved with the cult and he's covering it up,” she sighed. Bianca looked at her with raised eyebrows in what Wednesday could smugly identify as admiration. “What? I grew up with this kind of person…Grandmama set riddles to open the library. To keep our mind sharp.”

“Alright,” she shrugged. It didn't matter, Wednesday already knew of her true feelings. “How do we know if…what's her name again?”

“No one knows. Most witches forfeit their names after they become Clan Heads. Imagine if a succubus got a hold of one, they wouldn't stand a chance…” she sighed at the way Bianca, who was consistently top of their grade, looked so confused. Nevermore’s curriculum really was too lackluster for the tuition they charged. “You know…the creatures of the forest, the Crypts, the Faes and the like.”

“I…I thought they were myths.”

“For some normies you are a myth created by drunk sailors. Yet, here you are,” Wednesday tried her best to not roll her eyes. “Regardless, if you see a creature that looks human but it's too eerie to be one, run the other way and don't look back. If it asks for your name, start fighting.”

“Eerie but humanlike,” Bianca mused aloud. “Sounds like someone I know,” she raised an eyebrow at Wednesday, eyes only briefly off the road.

Wednesday clicked her tongue. “Stop flirting, lest Layla decides to duel me for your hand,” she heard Bianca snickering. “Just to be clear, I would leave my dignity behind and lose.”

“Thank God!” Bianca even raised one of her hands. Wednesday even had the gall to touch her chest and deadpan an Ouch. “As much fun as this is, if it was my everyday life I'd kill myself. No offense."

“Ditto. Full offense.”

𓌜

“What’s the way to the other one?” Bianca stopped at a red light.

“We are not going there.”

It may have been the most forceful Wednesday had ever sounded, her usual monotone voice giving way for an edge she couldn't just polish.

“I feel like there's a story here…” 

“Not much of one. Grandmama lost a poker game to the Gray Crone once, she's allowed to get the left hand of the first Addams she comes in contact with,” then she locked eyes with Bianca in a way that may have showed a little of her desperation. “Bianca, I need my hand.”

“I bet you do,” she murmured.

“What do you mean?”

“You know what I mean…I can smell it on you.”

Wednesday wondered if she was smelling, she didn't think so, it would be deeply uncharacteristic for her body to betray her like that. Either way, she had decided it wasn't worth it, sometimes Bianca noticed things so subtle she felt like analyzing it wouldn't do any good.

“I don’t have time for you inane drivel,” Wednesday snapped, ignoring Bianca's resulting laughter completely. “Who’s this Ritchie?”

Bianca kept silent for a while, then breathed out. “Is the Crone right?”

Wednesday pondered for a second. “I believe so…witches like her are hardly ever wrong in their visions.”

“Ok then,” a sign. “Frederick Ritchie is the police superintendent, I guess,” she bit her lip. “Call Layla or Enid.”

Wednesday almost growled at the way it sounded like an order. She settled for grinding her jaw and picking up the phone she miraculously remembered to bring.

Enid answered after the first ring. 

“Howdy, Enid,” Wednesday started. “We need whatever you can get on Frederick Ritchie.”

“Hi, Enid! How are you?” She lowered her voice. “Oh, Wednesday, I'm just fine! How about you, my very best friend?” In normal pitch and then lowered again. “I am miserable, Enid. Can you do me a favor? Sure, roomie!”

“Are you done,” Wednesday said, more demand than question.

“You’re no fun,” the pout in her lips was easy to discern by her infliction alone.

Bianca made a fake gagging noise. Wednesday would be sure to actually throw up next time she dared to kiss her girlfriend within fifteen feet of her.

“Now that your weird mating ritual is done,” Bianca started. She was lucky she was the one on the wheel, Wednesday would've swerved onto the opposite lane so fast. “Ritchie?”

“DOB: November 14th 1959,” Agnes' voice came calm through the line, Wednesday was glad she wasn't trying to deadpan it anymore. “German parents, sus. His 62nd birthday was celebrated in his backyard with immediate family, pecan pie instead of a cake, ew. Two marriages, each bred a son. The oldest, Jordan, is married to a…guy! Good for him! And living in New York, only comes back once a year. The youngest, Jacob, is a junior at a college in Miami, vet school.”

“He became superintendent six years ago after winning three medals of valor. Used to be captain of the North precinct,” Layla added.

“What about an adopted child?” Wednesday asked.

“What do you mean? He's famously against adoption…says he'd never raise another man's trash,” Layla scoffed.

“Maybe he just says that because he failed as an adoptive parent,” Wednesday could hear the resentment on Enid's voice, she knew just how easily parents could turn their backs against their children.

“Oh!” Agnes suddenly exclaimed. “There are some sealed records here.”

“Unseal them,” Wednesday demanded.

“If the FBI comes barging into my dorm you're the one getting me out of jail,” Agnes almost growled. Wednesday could color herself impressed.

“I think the Addams has a bail fund,” Bianca piped in.

“We do. Mostly for Uncle Fester…but also, Father is a lawyer.”

“You won't get arrested, Agnes,” Enid sighed. “But if you do, Gomez is a great lawyer.”

“I did it!” Agnes suddenly squealed. The goverment really needed better security on these types of things. “He…adopted a boy, duh, six– seventeen years ago. He’s now thirty three…Let me see if I can get his name. Um…Fred. He was a George and is now a Fred…kinda funny."

“How can we find him?” Wednesday asked.

Agnes hummed. From pattern behavior, Wednesday could guess she was biting her lip, a bad habit she had to kick off soon. “I’ll need a little more time for that, but I can call later.”

“Take your time!” Enid exclaimed, then she cleared her throat in a way Wednesday could hear was very pointed.

She had promised to play a little nicer.

“Good job, Agnes,” it came out through gritted teeth, almost as if she tried to pull out her own tongue. But Agnes giggled and she had to swallow a feeling she hadn’t felt nearly enough to know what to feel – it was almost the very same way she ached and almost felt like throwing up when her brothers yelled in victory as they exploded yet another part of the lawn their mother would probably use to plant another tree.

Irrelevant, really.

They had an hour to reach the meeting spot. With the way Bianca was going, she’d just manage to get there maybe a minute before Enid.

𓌜

When Wednesday got to the park, Enid was already there.

Bianca didn’t even spare a goodbye before leaving, she almost never did, they worked best that way.

Nevertheless, Wednesday understood what the expression ‘her face lightened up’ meant. Enid’s eyes widened a little, they sparkled somehow and her lips widened in a smile so big Wednesday thought she would split her face in half – and though it would be a beautifully grotesque vision, Enid’s face was pleasantly looking enough for her to prefer that not to happen.

They had only been separated for a short few hours, nothing noteworthy. Yet, she knew her friend had missed her, it came with the territory of the whole pack thing. Rest assured, she had…noted her friend’s absence during the day as well.

Enid skipped over towards her, Wednesday got reminded of their first meeting, of how the sun hit her face just right, the coldness of their soon-to-be shared room waned by the warmth of her sheer presence. At the time, Wednesday had found it unbearable, she had questioned her own sanity at the mere thought of staying. Now, however, it was hard not to feel anything other than the dreadful weight of familiarity.

“Howdy, roomie,” she squealed.

“Howdy.”

“C’mon, I saw this sushi place on tiktok, you’re gonna love it.”

Wednesday rolled her eyes at the enthusiasm, but allowed herself to be guided by her sleeve again. She wasn’t too fond of sushi, never had been, the texture was too weird for her to even consider the taste…but she didn’t mind as long as her friend was there.

It was quite literally around the block. Wednesday opened the door and Enid giggled as she walked in, her pink and orange striped sweater awfully more colorful in the restaurant's rather poor lighting, Wednesday was thankful for the dimness.

“Don’t worry, gentleman,” Enid started as they sat across from each other on the floor. “I looked it up and they serve plain noodles and a veg ramen you’d like.”

Wednesday’s eye twitched at the consideration of it all.

“No–”

“No tofu. Too mushy,” Enid winked and called a waiter. “I know you, dummy.”

She said nothing and allowed Enid to pick for the both of them, the choice was one she approved of anyway, she did enjoy ramen with vegetables and maybe even some mushroom. 

“So,” Enid whispered once the waiter walked away, shoulders shimmying a little in excitement. “I found one group that fits what we were looking for…but there wasn't any sort of social media. I only got a private group chat and the name’s so stupid. Like– who calls themselves the Moonknights.”

“People who believe they are about to start a religious crusade,” Wednesday rolled her eyes. “Something about reflecting God’s light while not being a divinity, if I am not mistaken.”

“See? It just got more stupid.”

“Did you manage to get in?” Wednesday asked.

“Yeah, but like– as a spectator…I can’t say anything and it looks just like normal cult stuff. Mostly schedule and which bible verse they should read and whatnot,” both of them sighed. Wednesday quiet, almost a mere exhale and Enid’s loud and desolate. 

“Nothing useful, then.”

“But, they’ll meet tonight? Well it’s at three in the morning so tomorrow, actually.”

“Maybe we can find enough evidence by then,” Wednesday mused aloud. 

“What if we don’t?”

“Then we just dismantle it from the inside out.”

“Weds…” Enid started and paused to smile up at the waiter as he settled their food down on the table. A muttered thank you and a nod from Wednesday and they were alone again. “You know they need the whole de-programing, right? From what I’ve seen on that chat there’s more than twenty people inside.”

Wednesday clicked her tongue and focused on eating her food. Maybe they could find something knew in the morgue, though she doubted it, people with M.Os such as this one, where they only found correlation in victim type or place where the perpetrators dumped the body rarely ever showed difference between in-person visitations to see the bodies and the reports usually given to the police.

She doubted every one of the people in the group chat were involved with the crimes itself, at least were she the leader, Wednesday would scarcely trust anyone but herself, the lower parts of the cult might deem the situation fit for a social ascension. She voiced as much to Enid who shook her head midchew.

“I’d do the opposite,” she swallowed and shrugged. “If there’s twenty people I’d separate them into groups, each time I kill a woman I have a different set of people with me…this way I can blackmail them into staying if they ever want to leave.”

It was at times like this that Wednesday understood the masses of blushing faces and beating broken hearts Enid left behind as easy as breathing. The waiter who took their order, an adolescent boy who smelled of hormones and nervous sweat, had been stealing glances at their table since their meal started – as irritating as it was, she understood, Enid was brilliant.

So Wednesday said nothing, a mere nod had sufficed. So much so, Enid was finishing her sushi pieces with an entirely too smug peppiness to her movement.

All she could do was roll her eyes and focus on the food.

They managed to meet Callaghan near the closest morgue, he seemed to be a little stiffer than the day before, a little more nervous, looking over his shoulders. No uniform this time around. His voice cracked a little as he greeted them. Wednesday trusted her instincts as she decided to let him approach anyway, she knew, should anything happen, Enid was ready. He opened his jacket and for a brief moment, she wondered if she would meet a retched gun to her face yet again. 

Instead, he took out a manila folder and handed it to them with shaky fingers. Enid led him to sit down on a park bench as Wednesday opened it. It was pictures, some she hadn’t seen before, each of their victims showed up – all of them bound and passed out, a wooden cross hanging above their bodies. She could guess, from the lack of natural light, this was most likely a basement. 

The last one was of a girl, seven or eight years old, blonde and wearing pink overalls as she rode a skateboard. Her face was so focused her tongue was out. It took a single look to know who that was and why their partnered detective was so shaken.

“I–it was taped to my door…they have my address,” he breathed in and out slowly. For a man who was clearly freaking out, he was surprisingly functioning. “I put some of my colleagues to watch over her at least.”

Enid frowned and patted his shoulder in comfort. “Where is she?”

“I sent her to her mother…I really don't want to put my little girl in danger.”

Wednesday sighed, this was definitely not going along to her initial plans. She turned the pictures around and her lips tightened. Bring Addams until sunrise. Or else the little princess suffers. 

How original.

“Not again,” Enid groaned. 

Wednesday was half tempted to just go along with it and hope for the best, if this had happened during the school years, she would have. But she could see the way Enid’s eyes flickered between blue and gold in distress and decided to spare her friend a little this time around.

“Why would they want you?” His stress was also obvious. Wednesday understood.

“I come from a very powerful family of witches…but I am not what they want,” she frowned.

“What do you mean?” He stressed.

“They have to complete the set before starting the purge on a larger scale.”

“Again, I’m sorry but I don’t–”

Wednesday shook her head. “They’re looking for a blood witch and a full time necromancer. I’m neither.”

“I thought you said necromancy wasn't all that popular.”

“Blood witch? What the hell is a blood witch?”

They exclaimed almost at the same time. Wednesday refrained from rolling her eyes.

“A lot of things are frowned upon by society and yet people still do it,” she pointed out. Enid closed her mouth instantly. “Blood witches are exactly what they sound like. Their primary source of strength and main ingredient in potions is blood, either theirs or someone else's.”

She sighed. This would be annoying.

“Great. We should talk to my captain then,” He nodded to himself, looking a little surer than he had been.

“I’m afraid that won’t help,” Enid sighed. “We have strong motives to suspect one of the Superintendent's sons is heavily involved.”

“Are you sure? This is an accusa–”

He was cut off by Enid’s nauseatingly poppy ringtone, her fingers were quick to accept the call and put it on speaker.

“Agnes, hi,” Enid greeted.

“Hi,” she sighed. “Fred doesn’t have a big social media presence anymore but he is certainly exactly what we’re looking for. He started creating an online community about his hatred towards witches…eight years ago. That was after guess what? His fiancee left him for a woman…a witch.”

She felt Callaghan’s questioning eyes and raised an eyebrow at him, the man shut his mouth and started writing whatever he needed.

“He had a bad relationship with our dear Frederick for the two and a half years he stayed there…then he left for college and vanished until he found this girl and he constantly posted about how happy she was. Then he went straight to calling witches freaks and asking for their extermination.”

“Does he connect to–”

“I’m ahead of you, pup,” Enid growled at that and Wednesday would have snorted if this was any other moment. Agnes, true to her age, blew a raspberry. “Yes. He’s the creator of the group and the main texter…and after accessing his phone he also has separate group chats where he talks about the murders. I’m making a file to send to the cops.”

“Bloody hell,” Callaghan muttered.

“You’re welcome,” then she hung up.

“I didn’t know he had another son,” he added.

“Apparently no one really does,” Enid sighed. “He really ran after those two years and never came back, Ritchie pretends it never happened, apparently.”

“You do know we’ll have to talk to him, right?” He asked.

“Enid and I will go.”

“I will be with you girls, we are a team,” he reiterated and Wednesday could see just how genuine he was.

“Go be with your daughter,” Enid said, so softly, she had always been good at getting what she wanted. But he shook his head.

“She is protected by my team. My captain knows she’s been threatened and promised me coverage,” he looked at them, serious and heavy. “You are a target, Addams. I won’t let another young woman suffer in my city for the sin of existing.”

Wednesday could see it, even if they left him behind he would trail after their steps like a hound dog, like a bodyguard. So she nodded and she knew Enid was also a bit more relaxed with an extra pair of eyes on her. In a way, Wednesday herself also was, it seemed like every time she was in danger Enid found a way of sacrificing herself in a way or another for her.

They knew it wouldn’t be something easy to do, it never was. Wednesday had been starting to hold a grudge against familial drama. Maybe fathers and sons should learn to understand each other better so they could spare her the trouble of dealing with this kind of thing. Especially cops. Always fucking cops.

“So we won’t go to the morgue,” Wednesday decidedly didn’t pout.

“If we want to save you and my daughter…no. Time is of the essence,” he raised his hand to pat her shoulder, she glared, daring him to try. He showed himself a smart man as his hand stopped midway and he just high fived himself and turned around towards his car.

“Don’t worry,” Enid shrugged apologetically. “I’ll lock you in one of the manor’s coldest coffins when we get back.”

“I like the metal bed,” still not pouting. For the record.

“I know,” Enid sighed.

“It’s comfortable.”

“I know,” Enid gently pulled on her sleeve to get walking and once she did let go immediately. “Metal table in the walk-in freezer?”

Wednesday nodded. Not. Pouting. 

Callaghan decided to drive them. It would be the easiest route to go straight there before things go worse, as far as the detective was aware the superintendent was spending his nights at the office. If Wednesday was so inclined, she would say it was probably guilt, such a wretched human emotion it was.

It wasn’t that far from where they were. 

Callaghan managed to get all the way to his office’s door without question. No one dared to ask why he was there at such a late hour and she admired that, if she was alone Enid would most likely help her sneak through the vents if necessary. She would like the entrance it would make, just her and Enid dropping from the shadows and scaring the words out of a man who was most likely dismissing a string of crimes that would get infinitely worse out of personal feelings. Deeply pathetic.

“Superintendent,” Callaghan greeted once they stepped through the door. The man looked like he had been having a few rough nights, his eyebags were deep and dark, the little hair on his head was entirely grey and Wednesday knew it wasn’t all his age, as much as he tried to keep the posture it didn’t work. His shoulders were slumped and his left leg started bouncing.

“Detective,” he nodded. “And…two little girls? How can I help you?”

“I’d rather you call Miss Addams and Sinclair by their names, sir,” he snapped. “I know you are well aware of why we came here.”

“Whatever do you mean by that?”

“Do not play cloy, Frederick,” Wednesday finally spoke. Ignoring Enid’s hand touching her waist to stop her from talking. “I don’t know if you are hiding your son’s crimes out of a misguided sense of guilt for failing to love that boy so much he ran out of your wings in the first opportunity he had or if your brain is so compromised by the amount of medicine you use for erectile dysfunction that you have yet to notice the crime spree affecting the parts of the city you swore to protect in the first place.”

“For your information, Miss,” he growled, or as close to it as humans could get. “I am devising a plan.”

“You had almost six months. I found Fred is the leader of the culprits in less than two days since arriving in the city.” Wednesday reiterated.

“And I have other priorities,” he shrugged. “But do be aware, everything is in order for us to start the arresting process soon.”

“Soon?” Enid spoke for the first time, eyes narrowed in the way that made her look more feline than her actual animal half. “Define soon.”

“When the strategy is ready,” he put on the glasses on his desk and swatted them off. “Now, the three of you have ten seconds to leave or I will call security.”

She gritted her teeth, hands balling into fists and following Callaghan’s lead out. She stayed silent until they got to the car, Enid opened the back door for her and followed inside. Her friend would have to forgive her then.

Wednesday did her best to not be troublesomely reckless.

However, it seemed like the universe had other plans and she learned her lesson on reading signs.

Enid’s phone lit up again, she looked over to see Agnes’ name on display and the address of the compound and his personal apartment in the thread. 

Yet another sign, very well then.

“Hand me in,” Wednesday broke the silence.

Callaghan hit the brakes abruptly and looked back aghast, Wednesday just stared until he had the sense to move into a drugstore parking lot.

“I’m not gonna hand you to a cult of bloody maniacs, are you insane?” He didn’t yell, not really, but it was stupidly exasperated.

“Yeah, are you insane?” Enid added. 

Wednesday looked down onto Enid and her lips almost turned into a sneer at the amount of color. She had, then, to put her hand over Enid’s own. Her eyes focused on Callaghan, trying to prove just how serious she was.

“You need probable cause for an arrest. If we don’t dismantle this cult he will let them keep going. Why do you think they don’t mention not calling the police in the note?” She then turned to Enid. “We can find a way to let me call if things go wrong.”

“I can treat it as a kidnapping and call backup,” he muse. “But I really don’t want to do this…ok, you are not the blood witch they need, they might retaliate for that.”

“Weds…I can’t watch you go in there like this,” the moon was high in the sky, almost non-existent and her eyes glowed. Wednesday knew very little, if anything, could dissuade Enid when she got like this.

“There’s a spell I know…it will alert you,” she made sure to tighten her hold on Enid’s hand. “If I get hurt physically in any way, shape or form.”

Enid’s eyes didn’t harden, not towards her, not anymore. But they were steely, in the way Wednesday knew demanded the truth more than anything else. “Any way, shape or form.”

She nodded and reached for one of the daggers in her boot.

“Oh, for fuck’s sake–” Callaghan gasped.

“Can you turn around?” Wednesday asked as she needed to do this somewhere the cult wouldn’t see. He obeyed instantly, so did Enid. She could see on the window her eyes closed and hands coming to cover them further. 

The tip of her dagger touched the area between her stomach and her ribs. Usually, she would’ve done it on her thigh, it would be less painful but also less practical in the current situation.

Wednesday wasn’t a blood witch, as much as she wished she was, she could never reach the same level of power in blood. But sacrifice always made spells stronger and this one was an almost short-lived pact with the way it worked, it would bind them until Wednesday decided to cut it, Enid would feel every ounce of her pain once it was done. She drew a simple transference rune, overlapping on the more curling edge came a pain rune. As direct as it could possibly get.

Wednesday used the tip of the knife just to make simple flesh wounds, she didn’t want to overtly bleed, that would be inconvenient. But Enid would feel the pain of the branding as she did, it was a rather intimate spell, most pact-like ones were. It was maybe why she felt so compelled to do it with her one and only best friend. 

Wednesday sucked in a breath and thankfully, after her mother made her practice over and over again, she could do it easily. The moment she was done Wednesday fixed her shirt, the sting of the cut and the cotton mixing almost made her hiss in pleasure. 

“Enid, turn around,” she held the dagger up, her own blood looking oddly enticing. Enid obeyed her and she could see the small need to faint still there, it made no sense but very few things did when it came to her friend. “Lick.”

“What!?” Enid yelled.

“Enid,” Wednesday growled impatiently. “Now.”

Enid jumped but did as told, tip of her tongue carefully curling around the sharp steel to take everything she could possibly have. Wednesday would have to purge the image out of her mind, it certainly was this need that made an inferno erupt inside of her. The way Enid kept her blue eyes, almost pitch black with the way her pupils dilated, locked on her brown ones was…something that made Wednesday lose whatever word she could possibly use to describe whatever it was she felt.

“O–kay,” Callaghan’s voice made both of them jump and break whatever weird atmosphere had been going on in the moment. “Are we sure about this?”

Enid hissed and touched her side, at least the spell was working.

“Yes,” Wednesday assured. One look at an uneasy Enid and she knew, if they hesitated, the girl would give up.

Callaghan drove and Wednesday focused on feeling the little heaviness on the very back of her mind that reminded her Enid was there, she watched her friend close her eyes, probably feeling the same thing. Enid’s phone ratted out instructions and directions and Wednesday didn’t even try to act desolated when they arrived. There would be no point in it.

𓌜

They arrived at the big house in about thirty minutes. It probably had enough rooms for all of them to share in duos, Wednesday could figure one of the ballrooms were used for meetings. It wasn’t all that different from her family’s manor, mostly lacking the gothic appeal and it disgusted her.

Callaghan played his part well enough. Forceful hold on her arm when they got closer to the door and scowl. If he wasn’t a blonde he would probably look scary…as it was, it looked like a kid trying to play villain. She didn’t know how the police force took him seriously.

The door opened and, through the darkness, a pair of hands reached for her. Wednesday avoided the contact and walked in by herself, it closed before Callaghan could step behind. She knew he was probably already calling his squad as he stepped away from the door.

The same hands pointed at her boots and she rolled her eyes, reaching inside and putting her daggers in the bag it held. It shook it and she started reaching for the other three knives, medieval mace, nunchuks, scissors and even the barbed wire she kept in her pocket at all times. She didn’t know how they knew about all of that but it was fine, she still had the razor blades in her hair, it would just be complicated to untangle it from her braids.

What she knew was that Fred seriously lacked taste for interior design, everything was so bland. The most color the dull beige walls saw were replicas of baroque paintings. Boring. Wednesday took note of the figure leading her to wherever she was going. 

It was a man, black, shaved hair. He was bigger than her by not much, his eyes were forward and his hands didn’t try to reach for her once he noticed she would cooperate on her own like a big girl. His lips were set in a thin line, he didn’t want to be there.

He stopped them in front of a massive mahogany door. At least this one was nicer looking than the front door.

It opened dramatically to reveal twenty one people, twenty three with her and unnamed guy, ten in each row and in front of everyone a platform. Giant cross stark in the middle, she had never felt so disappointed.

Then there he was, hands behind his back and a pose of elegance Wednesday knew wouldn't last long. For her survival, it couldn't. His white skin glowed under the harsh overhead lights, the white collared shirt and slacks were pristine. He stood at six feet, a calm smile on his face and a glint in his eyes Wednesday knew meant trouble. He had bleached his hair, pathetic.

“No hoods,” she started as she walked the runway, voice as deadpan as ever. “No drama. No candles. Not even a proper lead…you put shame on cults' names.”

Fred snarled but otherwise didn’t lose his composure. Before Wednesday could do much two people came from behind and closed heavy chains around her wrists. This wouldn’t bode well for them at all. The wall behind Fred was made of glass, it was pitch dark outside there was nothing to be seen aside from the reflection of Fred's back.

“You foolish creature…A devilish mind does not bear fruit to the spirit,” he started. “You, devil child, will be sanctified today.”

“Oh no, I am so scared.”

Her eyes locked on the people around her for a moment. She could see it in their faces the emotion she got so familiar with during her first two years at Nevermore, regret.

Enid had been right. He was forcefully keeping at least half of his followers. This wouldn’t go well for him once things were done. A woman dry swallowed on the left row, he was devolving. This was outside of his regular M.O, outside of his usual victims and certainly, they were starting to get a little scared.

Suddenly, Fred was right in front of her, anger dripping from his eyes.

“How dare you disrespect your Messiah like this?” He snarled.

Wednesday’s expression was as bored as ever. “My Messiah?” She actually chuckled. “You are nothing, Fred. Better yet, George, at the end of the day you're still that same boy who couldn't be loved by a Father who chose him.”

It was delightful to watch the way he went from enraged to seething. Maybe if she kept talking he would actually start foaming at the mouth.

“I am sent by the Lord Himself to cleanse the Earth as He returns! My Earthly life is irrelevant as long as I obey my Master and finish my mission.”

Wednesday genuinely felt spit hitting her cheek, this was ridiculous. She did understand why he had to force these people to be there, he probably couldn’t hold the attention of anyone for more than a few seconds. Hatred did make people blind sometimes.

“And I am sent by him to kill you…so now what?” Wednesday cocked her head.

He breathed in and out and stepped away from her. This would be quite more difficult then. 

“Behold, people!” He showed her off, a charming smile on his face. This was how he won, huh. “The Addams child. Behold she, who is made from the Devil’s flesh and carved from evil. She, who was bred and brought out to worship his name over the goodness of our people. She, who sins and is proud of it. She, who must burn the way we would burn were it not for our rendition to Christ! She who–”

She noticed the torch on the stand and knew that it was now or never. Wednesday decided to lean onto something she knew from experience that would make anyone lose whatever sense of calmness or patience they could possibly have. Enid’s teaching would have to come in handy.

“You do know you’re only making me sound way cooler than I am, right?” She could almost hear her roommate’s voice in her head and it almost made her lip move a quarter of an inch up. “Like–” that one hurt to say. “You are saying I'm all these things and yet can't bring out the word boring, unlike me when I go report to this…it'll be the first one I use. It’s almost like you–”

She was interrupted by impact followed by the sharpest slap she had heard in a while. She was lucky her boots were as stable as they were or she would’ve landed right on the floor. Her cheekbone hurt, she noticed the ring on his index, a drop of blood started to come out of the cut. She looked in front of her and smiled, a full one in the way she rarely ever did, her muscles unused to the action and aching further, all teeth and dimples on display. Nothing gentle about it in the slightest. 

She spared a look at the abyss outside. Two glowy blue eyes looked back at her. 

Closer.

Closer.

Closer.

Wednesday didn’t want to close her eyes but her body did it anyway as shards of glass touched her covered torso and hair and more than ten feet of mass and fur was suddenly in between her and her aggressor. The banging of the door as Callaghan moved in with his team went unnoticed as she moved her body to the right to see Fred frozen in shock, Enid snarled and after looking back, always looking back, to check on her she pounced.

It was honestly embarrassing to watch. He was so sure his dad would hold down the fort he didn’t even bring a weapon. What a weak excuse of a leader. Enid snarled on his face, half feral and drooling, it would be delightful to watch her killing him as an animal…but Wednesday knew her friend, and as such.

“Enid!” She called and the wolf stopped without thinking twice. “That’s enough,” she breathed out. “You are horrifying, wolf. But let Officer Callaghan arrest him.”

Enid whined. Her head moved from Wednesday, from the cut on her cheek, to him multiple times. Wednesday sighed.

“I know…it’s not hurting…c’mon,” nodded at her, Callaghan was frozen near them both until he saw Enid finally moving. Wednesday knew one thing that would make her let him go. “Help me out here, hm?”

Enid’s tail wagged and let go of her prey; if one of her claws slipped and cut deeply where his bloodstained ring rested, it wasn’t her fault. She didn't even detach it completely from the hand, but Wednesday could see the bone poking out, probably some sustained nerve damage as well. Blood was pooling quickly and another glance as Callaghan turned him around and put his hands on his back, only a thin layer of skin making sure finger and hand stayed together.

Both of them ignored the yelling man on the floor, and it seemed Callaghan didn’t pay him much mind aside from calling over and handing him to the paramedics. Enid's razor sharp claws cut through metal like butter and Wednesday felt an odd sense of dizziness, she managed it with a single trip. Enid was by her side to hold her up in less than a second. 

She gently patted her side, finger sliding through thick fur for a moment in thankfulness.

Callaghan looked at them once and smiled. “They found some of his journals and his manifesto upstairs…it's gonna be an easy conviction,” then he raised his shaky hand and Enid lowered her head so she could get pats. His smile widened.

“Your daughter?” Wednesday asked, blood dripped from her jaw.

“As of fifteen minutes ago, her mum finally put her to sleep. It was a scare but my team said they had a thorough search, everything was good when they left,” he chuckled and let Enid go. “I might even swing by and give her a good night's kiss. Good job, girls.”

Wednesday nodded and ignored the way Enid's tail wagged. How could a wolf, not even the girl herself but an apex predator, be so desperate for praise. Yet another reason why she regretted not diving a dagger into Esther's heart after Enid's hearing.

A paramedic approached Wednesday slowly and Enid growled, ears back and hackles raised. Body lowering to attack position.

Wednesday just raised a hand to the poor woman trying to do her job and grabbed Enid by the scruff.

“She is very territorial,” she stated. “I am okay. It's just a minor cut, nothing I can't treat back at the house.”

“Are you sure, Miss?” Her voice almost shook, she could see the instinct to whine. Another wolf. It made sense.

“Yes. I refuse any medical attention.”

The woman nodded and left. Enid turned towards Wednesday and the best she could do was roll her eyes. 

“Seriously?”

Enid whined. 

This really was her life now.

𓌜

“That was so scary,” Enid breathed once they were at the comfort of their borrowed room.

“It was lackluster at best,” Wednesday argued, already grabbing some clothes and walking towards the bathroom without a second thought. The bag filled with her weapons had to be discreetly, illegally, retrieved from the evidence piled near one of the squad cars and now rested near their handbags.

“You got hurt,” Enid pouted and started following her, metaphorically nipping on her heels like a puppy.

“It was part of the plan,” Wednesday turned around. “Now, I'm about to take a shower so unless you want to see me naked, leave.”

Enid paused, took a second to think and turned bright red – Wednesday had never seen such a vivid color before made naturally – and bolted back to their bed. What a strange girl. What a strange feeling of victory.

Wednesday took a quick shower and filled the bathtub with cold water. She had yet to have her hour of alone time and people, in general, had been starting to grate on her nerves. She turned off the light and just sat there, soaking wet, almost shivering and thoroughly alone. Heaven after such a day.

Washing and picking out the small bits of glass off her hair had been a particular pain in the ass and she would have a talk with Enid about it. Part of her was almost tempted to call her back and demand her to do it instead, but unfortunately Wednesday did need her silence and own solitude. 

The tip of her fingers danced on the water above the spell cuts and she closed her eyes. A single mutter of words she had long since memorized and the constant presence in her skull was gone, Enid must've been glad, it was still stinging after all. 

She left the bathroom after an hour and a half, the water had been frigid and her fingers started to feel a bit stiff. Five minutes in warmer water did the trick.

Enid was already in her white pajamas, watching something on her headphones and picking some fruit set in a bowl. She looked at Wednesday, neither of them spoke, they didn't need to, and offered the bowl. 

Mostly blueberries and raspberries.

How she found them at that time of the year, Wednesday didn't ask. 

They shared it in silence, Wednesday's head felt a lot clearer. The sounds less loud and the dim light Enid had set were incredibly less overwhelming. She breathed easier and allowed her shoulders to slump, barely an inch, but it was enough to relax her.

Once they were done Enid got up and left, Wednesday frowned in confusion. Usually when this happened, they would lock Wednesday in a trunk she had modified her closet to possess. Dark, cold and tight, just perfect to deprive her of the senses she felt were trying the most to drive her insane. 

Enid was back before she could question further. Little medicine case in her hands and a look of something almost akin to regret, but just not quite. All Wednesday knew was that she didn't want to watch it. Her steps were hesitant and the way one of her hands raised to touch the air above the cut on Wednesday's cheeks even more so.

“I know you don't like it…but please let me fix it,” Enid whispered. 

Wednesday could only nod – the words she was always so familiar with, the leave me alone, I can do it myself and touch me and you'll lose the hand all got stuck somewhere between her brain and apparently broken vocal chords.

Enid washed her hands and showed up again, serious, almost solemn. Her fingers applied ointment gently, almost too gently, her skin burned and tingled where they occasionally fully met and Wednesday felt like she was slowly being poisoned. Enid massaged the surrounding area to the touch, trying to soothe the sting and not knowing she was just making it worse, her eyes were focused, bottom lip between her teeth.

She finally applied the small patch of gauze on it, entirely unnecessary if Wednesday had any say in it. Unfortunately she had none, her tongue was heavy and too stubborn.

Enid traced the edge of the bandage on Wednesday's face, the almost touch was worse than being smothered in it. She didn't know if she wanted to lean in or to bolt.

“Let me see the other one,” Enid gently demanded, her voice so soft, no hint of the weight of expectations. Blue eyes softened beyond what she knew was possible, were she anyone else, Wednesday would’ve gauged them out. “Please.”

She, again, couldn’t say much of anything. Couldn’t do anything other than nod meekly, in a way so uncharacteristic to her it almost made her think she had been possessed by a particularly annoying ghost. Enid pushed her shoulder down slowly and gently and Wednesday went along with it pliantly, laying down on her back and fisting the bed covers just to have something to do with her hands.

“Excuse me,” Enid lifted her shirt just enough to see the shallow wound, her hands were shaking and Wednesday could, surprisingly, relate to the strange nervousness plaguing both of them.

She took notice of the way Enid didn’t avert her gaze to anywhere other than where she needed to treat, even if she glanced towards the small scar Crackstone left behind. Enid was quicker than she had been on her face, maybe because her ears were so red Wednesday was sure they were burning or maybe because it made the atmosphere so heavy it was difficult to navigate without some awkwardness.

Seeing Enid there, head down on her stomach made Wednesday’s face burn. She tried to keep her breathing minimal and control better her bloodflow, usually this was second nature. She could make sure none of her emotions ever showed in any way that included sweating, smiling, shaking and blushing. Such a wretched word, and yet…she burned. Wednesday was glad that at least Enid couldn’t lift her face up to meet her eyes. Some of her reputation wouldn’t suffer because of this.

Enid covered the cuts with the bandages and turned away, leaving so abruptly it reminded Wednesday of earlier in the bathroom. The difference was that she felt like she had also lost the game she didn’t know the rules to.

The door opened after Wednesday managed to fix her clothes and finished her night routine, she didn’t blame Enid for taking so long…the time alone had been much appreciated.

Enid got into bed with her and they lied on their backs side to side, untouching.

“If this is…too much let me know but– um…” Enid fidgeted with the hem of her shirt. “Can we cuddle?”

Wednesday turned to look at her, the still sort of scared eyes, the nervous hands, the split corner of her lips probably done by her fangs. She remembered Enid’s frantic protection, Callaghan drove them back to the house and Enid was twitchy, looking around at every turn and ears flickering back and forth at every noise. It reminded her of the aftermath of the wilderness.

“Bad night?” Wednesday asked, voice quiet and yet rough. She was exhausted.

Enid shrugged, Wednesday watched as she hurt her lip again. “Maybe? I…I just don’t like it when you’re hurt,” she whispered. “I need to know you’re ok,” a beat of silence and Wednesday saw the apprehension turn into a sort of panicked edge on her face. “I mean like– if you’re okay with that! If you don’t wanna be touched it’s fine! I’ll be fine! I just have to like–”

“Enid,” Wednesday interrupted, waiting until those blue eyes were on her again. Then she nodded and opened her arms in the slightest. “Come.”

Enid didn’t waste a second. Her arms surrounded Wednesday and held her against her chest, the pressure of Enid’s arms tight around her were more than sufficient to make her body relax. And as always, the warmth got her drowsy before she could do much. There was very little she could do against it, especially when she was that tired. 

Enid started scenting the top of her head and Wednesday knew it wouldn’t take long for them to mirror that morning’s position – the day had been so long it felt like a century had passed since then. She also knew she wouldn’t be aware of it, everything was dark, she could only hear Enid’s quiet breathing and feel herself being constricted, exactly what she needed.

Her eyes closed.

“Nighty, Weds,” was the last thing she heard Enid whispering. She would schedule their flight for the next day, maybe at night.

Chapter Text

By EneedyWolfie

I thought about writing it but thought it'd be easier to show you!! So here’s how the holidays went!!! ₍₍⚞(˶>ᗜ<˶)⚟⁾⁾

“Okay,” the camera moved and shook until it stabilized in her hands. The mirror reflection looked at her with a bright smile. “Howdy, guys!”

“Is this necessary?” Wednesday bitterly murmured from her spot on the black bed in the corner of the room. Enid moved the camera just enough for it to be possible to see her roommate almost pouting in all of her glory. Though she doubted anyone but herself would be able to catch it.

“Of course! My followers want to see it and your parents said I could record everything.”

She moved the camera back to herself in the mirror, zooming in to catch every bit of detail on her clothing. They still had two days before Christmas but preparations started that morning and she wanted to be useful so her chosen outfit reflected that. Most people, especially those at school, thought her staying with the Addams meant she dimmed herself to fit into their standards of elegance but it couldn’t be further from the truth.

If anything, it only made her want to burn brighter.

When she put on a dazzling pink sweater for the first time in her extended stay at the manor during winter break Gomez’s grin was big enough to almost split his cheeks in half and she still remembered his booming, affectionate voice as he embraced her. Oh, my little serotonin supply, how we have missed your radiance blinding our eyes. So, she always made sure to be the colorful spot in their delightfully dark manor.

She just had to be extra careful in touching Wednesday, but it wasn’t like their skins touched most of the time; their shoulders brushed over hoodies or long sleeved shirts and Enid’s hand only ever touched the air around Wednesday’s. They used to cuddle at night, Wednesday’s grip firm on her wrists so she wouldn’t scratch herself, Enid spent almost three months sleeping in plain white night gowns and black tank tops. 

She still did whenever she sensed it would be a crappy night.

“Rate the look guys,” she excitedly started, showing her washed jeans, and up to the little charms dangling on her belt buckles, to her striped red and white sweater and the fun little necklace she made herself with some beads on their very long flight. “I’m going for peppermint-stick-core today!”

“This must be a humiliation ritual,” came Wednesday’s voice from her left in a sigh.

“Shut up!” She giggled. Then opened her arms and took a step away to open space in the mirror. “Your turn,” she patted her leg. “Come.”

“I am not the dog in this friendship, Enid,” she sneered, teeth bared and all, Enid would think it was cute if it were not for the contents of the phrase itself. 

“Okay, I’m pretty sure that’s like– some kind of phobic,” She moved the camera to show Wednesday’s extremely blank stare. “Two, c’mon, it won’t kill you,” she whined.

Her friend rolled her eyes in a slower movement than usual, making sure everyone could see just how she felt about this situation. But with a deliberately long suffering sigh she got up and did a slow turn, showing off her black slacks and equally black large hoodie, twin braids not even swaying.

“Yeah, that’s the most we’re gonna get, chat,” she turned the camera around and shrugged. “It’s more than I expected, tee-bee-eich. Now, let’s go to the fun part!”

She wiggled in place, recording herself, her routine was fun. It was one of her favorite hobbies, even when she couldn’t post anything or when the sight of the scars marring her face made her stomach queasy, she enjoyed having those memories to look back on.

The camera captured her feet hastily walking down, sometimes recording the plentiful decorations on the wall, Enid helped with most of them, either handmaking garlands with fake tree stuffing and some mistletoes or just sticking golden and black star stickers in between the medieval armors and the hand painted family portraits.

She focused on the last one, made the year past, and pointed to the very figure in the middle. Oddly contrasting to the rest of it, the dark background and darker clothes of the family, with her neon green sweater and white pants, her smile wide and fanged. If the camera zoomed a little on her and caught the way Wednesday was drawn with her eyes fixated on her face, the scarred side, and the very edges of her lips curled half a millimeter, that wasn’t particularly her fault…and she was sure her followers wouldn’t really notice either.

“You’re gonna choke and die in the most undignified way possible, you dimwitted bastard,” A female voice came from the kitchen. Enid recorded herself rolling her eyes and mouthing ‘children’, she made sure to catch Wednesday’s smirk.

“I’m not a bastard!” Came the squeaky, muffled, response. 

“Not in the literal definition of the word,” Eugene conquered and Enid was glad she caught the way Pugsley’s eyes widened and his jaw dropped, a hand dramatically to his heart.

“Et tu? I thought we were allies!”

Enid focused the camera on Morticia’s face, her dark eyes sparkled with amusement and the smile on her face was almost radiant, she sent a wink to her and Enid almost dropped her precious recorder. She pretended not to feel Wednesday’s glare.

“Ah, you two finally woke up!” Gomez’s voice came from the far end of the table, one of his hands beckoning them closer and the other putting down a newly cooked plate of bug shaped pancakes.

Enid had learned in her very first week that they were crunchy in the middle for a reason. It was Pugsley’s favorite. Though she doubted Gomez made them in the usual fashion, he wouldn't upset Eugene like that.

Enid looked around and pouted. Pubert was out with Grandmama collecting whatever was necessary for the bone tradition the witches of the family did. He begged to go this year, claiming it would be more fun than to do nothing all day, Enid knew he was secretly scared the old crone would maybe hurt herself in the process. He was always so caring, such a gentle soul, an Addams through and through.

But they'd see him at night, he and Grandmama would pick up Ophelia. Enid didn't know how she was getting down there, she maybe didn't want to know at all.

“Blame Enid's incessant need of recording her every move. I don’t know why anyone would want to watch her brush her teeth,” Wednesday mumbled, making sure to lean back and evade her Father’s arms. She had started allowing him to hug her once a week, it wasn't the time yet.

“Dental hygiene is important!” Enid pointed out and smiled to show off her perfectly cared for teeth and fangs. “I’m setting an example…” she paused to accept Gomez's hug, his arms tight around her and the camera darkened with the immaculate fabric of his blazer. It was possible to hear a barely muffled cracking sound. Enid stepped away and focused the camera on her face again. “Besides, you could've come without me.”

“And leave you to the hallway ghouls?” Wednesday raised an eyebrow.

Enid didn't know if it was sheer giddiness of bantering like this or the memories of those spirits playing pranks on her that made her heart race. Maybe both.

Still, she scoffed. “You know they don't mess with me after I beat Looney at poker.”

“Oh,” Morticia suddenly exclaimed, a laugh in her lips. “He’s still sulky about that.”

They walked to their seats, Wednesday with light feet still managing to look dragged without a single sound made and Enid with the happiness only known on Christmas eve. 

“He told us you cheated!” Gomez pointed out from his seat, his lips halfway to his wife's cheek.

“He’s a liar! I’ve never cheated once in my life!”

“That’s not what I heard…” Agnes suddenly piped up. “Or seen.”

“That so doesn't count! Anyways!” She aimed the camera at the plates. “Here’s breakfast. We have mysterious meatloaf, maybe bacon, delish fruits and pancakes! Yay!”

Pugsley suddenly thrust his plate in front of the lens, voice excited as she showed off his beetle and praying mantis pancakes, topped with blueberries and some sort of syrup he made himself. Enid refused to try, even his sweets ended up with some sort of spice she knew she couldn't handle. A girl had to know her weaknesses.

“Pugs love bugs,” was all Enid said once he finished.

“I do!”

“You’re lying,” Eugene exclaimed by his side, face contorted in a frown. “You slept in every Entomology class we took. I don't even know how you passed.”

“Of course I did,” he shrugged. Enid caught the mischievous way his eyes sparkled, he was maybe the only person she knew whose eyes could legit just do that. “I just don't like classifying them by species, family, whatever. The main categories should be crunchiness, taste and texture.”

Enid was glad she had the forethought of shifting the view to show Eugene's suddenly pale and horrified face just before he passed out. Her finger mistakenly ended the recording as she broke out in laughter.

“Okay,” Enid's camera perfectly framed her face and she praised herself for choosing such a great spot for lighting. Morticia's greenhouse was always awesome. “So, since the Addams don't celebrate Thanksgiving– y’know with the genocide of native people and all that, most werewolves also don't cause it's kinda weird. I'm going around asking what everyone is thankful for before we go for the annual hunt, it's almost sundown and almost everyone's finally here so we have to be quick.”

She looked up and bit her bottom lip. Her cerulean eyes not trying to hide her conflict, she wanted to be truthful – these silly videos were reminders of who she was, lying was pointless – but she also didn't want to give too much away.

“I’m grateful for…being here, being sort of okay…I’m grateful for the Addams family. I– I wanna thank them for everything, in particular my roomie…I’m grateful I never gave up on being her friend and that she never gave up on me.”

She paused. Tears in her eyes and a smile on her lips, it wasn't usual for her to think of a family, her family, so fondly. But she remembered how they helped glueing the tiny pieces she lost in the wilderness together, from Grandmama’s healing potions to Morticia's wise and kind words; from Pubert’s childish yet so very loving support to Gomez's loud affection and quiet reverence; from Pugsley's awkward pep talks and weird attempts to cheer her up to Wednesday’s stilted cuddles and even more awkward words of comfort.

Were it not for them she would be either dead or, if she managed to turn again at all, lost in the deep trenches of her mind without a way back at all.

“Uh…yeah, I think that's it,” she laughed, a little awkward with the depth of it all for a vlog and blinked away her tears, Wednesday would be proud with how quick she got it done. “Yeah, let's go.”

She walked a little faster than usual, sniffing the air to know exactly where everyone was. Her first victim was just outside the greenhouse, Morticia herself was tending to some overgrown weed near the glass dome.

Her eyes shot up slowly, almost languidly, and her smile rose just the same. Her hands were delicately holding hedge shears the size of Enid's face. It would be a scary sight if one didn't know the sheer size of Morticia's heart, Enid would feel safe with her gloved fingers holding a silver knife to her neck.

“Hi!” She showed her own hand waving in between the lens and the woman.

Morticia dropped her tool to repeat the motion. “Hello, dear. To what do I owe the pleasure?”

“Um…I’m doing a project! What are you grateful for this year?”

Morticia took off her gloves and put a perfectly manicured nail to her chin in thought, a low hum leaving her throat.

“I think…my family…we’ve all grown so much. My Gomez, of course, and” then she got closer to the camera, Enid bending down to meet her, and whispered playfully. “I’m also grateful for Eugene and Agnes, Pugsley needed friends his own age.”

Enid laughed, but she was glad the trio had been getting along so well. Although she could do with a little less mayhem. She thanked Morticia for her input and prepared herself to leave but the woman suddenly gasped, fists in the air in an excited motion and the corner of her lips turned up.

“Oh! I'm also grateful my Delphiniums grew so well…it took me so long to modify them enough for them to get that beautiful color.” She cooed, her garden was indeed beautiful and Enid knew just how much Morticia studied to be able to genetically modify her plants as she pleased. She was a genius in Enid's eyes.

The flowers in question were an almost gleaming black. Enid was sure they were so dark they absorbed light and made a sparkle on their own.

“Oh, that's good! They do look very pretty, thank you!”

“Nonesense, thank you, dear.”

Enid gave her the biggest smile she could possibly muster, fangs lengthening just a tad. A part of her was ashamed to have this need to show off her strengths all the time, maybe because she was proud of them or maybe because of something else entirely, the other liked the praises too much to care.

Her feet followed the slight cigar smell coming from Gomez's office. He was probably playing with his trains, the lingering smell of smoke just always seemed to cling to him, Enid liked it. It reeked of comfort. She avoided thinking about her blood family as she knocked on the half opened door.

“Hiya!” She exclaimed from the doorstep and hopped in once he motioned her to. Maybe she spent too much time with Yoko in school. “Very quick, sir,” she started, knowing that if he had the opportunity he would ramble on and on. “Three things you're grateful for this year!”

He fumbled with the little remote in his hands and spluttered, fingers raising to start counting.

“One, my beautiful Morticia. Two, my children. Ah…three! My wonderful,” he grappled for his remote again and smiled, wide and wild before putting his thumb just above a red button. Enid knew what was coming, she shut her ears the best she could. “C4!”

She quickly ran and recorded the explosion and rambunctious laughter from outside the office. She wished the camera could record through the smoke to capture the way Gomez stood on the wall, perpendicular to the floor, in sheer joy. She adored this weird family so much.

Her nose twitched, searching for either honey or gunpowder. If she wasn’t mistaken it was time for Wednesday to practice fencing and she knew Agnes would trail after her, even if she had quit her tendency to perfectly mirror her former idol, Wednesday had not so subtly allowed her to join in a claim for efficient self defense. With their track record, it really was better to be safe than sorry. 

She ended up finding the scent of caramelized apples alone. In one of the couches in the northern wing, her ears fluttered as she caught the faint sound of fire crackling. Of course.

The camera caught just how cozy Agnes looked in front of the fire, curled in an armchair and with a heavy blanket Enid knitted for her the year before, her fingers quickly pressing the buttons on her switch.

Enid just stood in front of the girl. This was a trick learned with Wednesday of course, she stood completely still, camera pointing to Agnes’ face, zooming in a little every second she sat there ignoring Enid. 

“Okay, what?” She groaned out once she lost in whatever game she was playing. Enid had always been more of a gameplay watcher than a player. 

“What are you grateful for this year?”

She scoffed. “Really?” Enid said nothing and kept the focus on her face. Agnes sighed, but Enid could see the smile on her face. “Okay…well– the nevermore kitchen staff, I guess. I haven’t eaten grey gruel since last year.”

Enid frowned, maybe a little more concerned than she should be on camera. “Your dad doesn’t hire kitchen staff?”

Agnes nods. “For parties, yes. Normally he doesn’t even like to eat so…it’s gruel and maybe fish.”

“Yikes.”

The girl hummed in affirmation. “I’m also grateful for um…”

Enid snorted. “It’s okay, you can say your friends.”

Agnes rolled her eyes, her bangs were almost below her eyebrows, Enid would cut it for her soon. “Now I don’t want to.”

“We know the truth,” Enid singsonged.

The last thing the camera caught in that room was Agnes shaking her head, red hair falling on her shoulders.

Enid passed by her and Wednesday’s shared room and kept going straight ahead as she caught the familiar click-clang of the typewriter. Her roommate must’ve been catching up before the hunt, she would have to help her mother and grandmother with the yearend ritual. 

She did end up finding Fester and Ophelia by the kitchen.

“Aunt Ophelia,” she called and the woman brightened a tad more than usual. “What are you grateful for?”

“Oh!” She exclaimed, caught by surprise. No one would guess she was the older one. “My coven, my forest– my home,” she touched a vine necklace resting above her chest, Enid liked to believe her woods could feel it. “Beef jerky.”

She blinked at the last one, but that was fine. It really was something to appreciate in life, one of the best things societal progress granted them. 

“Alright. And you, Uncle Fester?”

“Batteries,” he tapped his fingertips together, bouncing a little on his heels, manic smile on his lips. “Mental asylums that work in the old fashioned way and…mama’s cooking.”

“Oh! Definitely,” Ophelia excitedly clapped her hands. 

“The whole family, of course,” Fester cackled.

“Thank you!” Enid left quickly, those two could talk and talk for hours about lord knew what. She always left their conversations ninety percent more confused than when they started.

She bumped into Eugene and Pugsley on her way to Grandmama, the two were either arguing or passionately talking about something. Enid didn’t care nearly enough to know.

“Boys!” She interrupted. “What you’re grateful for. Go!”

“My moms,” Eugene started, visibly awkward and a little embarrassed. Classic teenage boy for emotional vulnerability. “My bees too. I guess…”

“It’s alright, Gene. You did good. Your turn, Pugs!”

He smiled, crooked and kind of shy but sincere nonetheless. Then he started to count his fingers. “My family. Cyanide. Ammonium Nitrate. Cicadas. Moths, the ones with white wings.”

“Thank you, buddy,” Enid wasn’t going to analyze any of those answers. She made sure to put a warning on the screen that he was mostly joking, the last thing they needed was cops.

Two people left.

Grandmama left the kitchen smelling like the cleansing potion they usually soaked the bones of whatever they hunted in. Eugene and Pugsley went back to bother Agnes now that her requested one hour of solitude for her sanity was over – she did still sound like Wednesday sometimes. 

“Don’t even ask, kid,” she cackled. Enid knew she already had to know what she was doing, the crone must’ve had a third eye somewhere, somehow. “I’m thankful for my children and grandchildren. And for frogs. Frog legs are so very useful! Oh! And the cat. She did wonderful things for you.”

“Which cat?” Enid blurted out. “I’ve never seen one here.”

“She will do great. You will love it.”

The woman cackled and left. Enid tried to splutter some sort of question or even response but, truly, that woman could be simultaneously clinically insane and the most lucid person to ever be. Enid adored her, though her brain suffered from the half sentences and conversations. She shook her head and shrugged to the camera.

Grandmama did as Grandmama willed.

She walked by the room again and the sound had stopped. It was now or never.

Enid came into the room in a flurry, making sure she wouldn’t record anything other than Wednesday’s blank face and raised eyebrow.

“Howdy, roomie…what’s one thing you’re grateful for?”

Her expression was the same, but Enid could feel her spiritually arching her eyebrow more. “Nothing.”

Enid let out a whine, wholly canine in nature. “C’mon, Weds. Everyone answered already.”

She would’ve rolled her eyes if everything wasn’t being recorded, Enid knew. But still, she let out a huff of air through her nose. “Fine. I am,” she gritted her teeth. The word was just so…heartfelt for a recording that would stay on the internet forever. “Grateful for graduating.”

“Thanks,” she beamed and turned the camera around to focus solely on her again. “Okay…so I’ll get ready for the hunt and no, it won’t be recorded because that would like– break so many community guidelines and I don’t want this account to be suspended.”

“You should fight back this inane censorship by releasing the footage anyway,” Wednesday claimed from her right.

“Of course you think so…but no. I promised Eugene and Agnes they could come along with us and we have to be focused.”

“Why would you ever do that?”

“It’s their first time, silly! They need help!” Enid rolled her eyes and turned off the camera. She refused to let her friend be seen pouting of all things.

“Howdy, people!” Enid greeted, the camera managing to catch the light stain of blood in her left cheek, just over her scars. It didn't matter how many times she scrubbed her face, it never seemed to fully wash off after it got stuck to get fur. “It’s time for hunting haul!”

“I don't think that is grammatically correct at all,” Wednesday deadpanned from her side.

“And I didn't ask,” Enid snickered. “I snagged two stags, I won't show but Gomez said he'll make venison! Yum!”

Then she shifted the camera to Agnes, who despite her best efforts, blushed a little in embarrassment. “Do I have to?” She muttered.

Enid hummed in affirmation. “It’s your first hunt, next year we'll be able to reflect on how much better you've gotten.”

Agnes sighed, she bit her bottom lip and nodded. “I got some fish…in the lake…um– I had to go in to catch them. It was so cold.”

“It really was,” Enid conceded, hand patting Agnes’ head. “You?” She turned the camera to an even more embarrassed Eugene.

“I got one rabbit,” he mumbled, so low Enid was surprised the camera even caught it at all.

“It’s alright,” Pugsley said from his spot, Enid made sure to not record the hands on his laps playing with a beaver he was cleaning for further taxidermy later. “Next year the three of us can practice," he smiled at the camera. “I got the rest of the rabbits Eugene couldn’t finish. Teamwork.”

“Teamwork is the best solution,” Enid nodded. “You, Weds?”

She rolled her eyes, arms crossed and utterly bored with this nonsense. Though Enid knew she probably would help with the training. “A black bear. Though we will not be able to eat it.”

Enid heard her and Grandmama talking about the bear’s hibernating body being used as a puppet by some witchcraft practitioner to spy on whatever had been going on in the Addams state, she didn’t know how to feel about it. Grandmama said it was probably one of her old foes, likely going for a prank, Wednesday didn’t want to risk anything.

“Can we even eat bear meat?” Agnes blurted out.

Pugsley nodded enthusiastically. “Uncle Fester makes great stew out of it!”

Eugene scrunched his nose. “Honestly, I’ve seen your uncle fester eating copper cables…I don’t know if I’d eat something he made.”

“Your loss,” Pugsley shrugged. Wednesday nodded in agreement. Enid wouldn’t judge, the stew was good and she had eaten much worse – probably…her wolf usually blocked out such memories from her. She didn’t care to know anyway.

“I won’t record the rituals,” Enid warned, a finger shaking in front of the camera. “Out of respect…But! We’ll do a get ready with me and I’ll talk about it.”

She got closer to the camera on the dressing table and showed off her already done make up look. “Aunt Ophelia helped me with the make up, we were going for fairy-witchy-magical girl winter,” she fluttered her eyelashes to show the glitter on her mascara. And smiled at the camera, hands busy arranging her jewelry in a little box. It was recommended to not use any.

“So! I think most covens do cleansing rituals to start the year, that’s what Weds told me. They all have the same basis but are different depending on the instruments,” she shows the three dresses she could choose. All plain black, all having some sort of lace on the sleeves. “The clothes are meant to not be distracting so Weds and I went out to buy these last time…they’re very comfortable but I do miss some pink,” she shrugged.

The video cut to her wearing the first option, floor length, lightly tailored on the waist and with flared sleeves, an intricate lace pattern following from her shoulder to her hands. “First we'll have a feast with the meat we hunted for and whatever vegetable we managed to gather, then we start with the cleansing with fire and something Grandmama called…um…purifying– y’know what? This is a violation of privacy. Anyway the whole week we’ve been writing about things we want to forget going forward and we’ll burn the pages.”

She stepped away from the camera and did a little twirl. This one was good enough, she was too lazy to even look at other options.

“Then we write the things we wish for in the next year. Grandmama says that words have a lot of power especially if written, so we also add some runes for good fortune and faith…in ourselves, in the moon, whatever else,” she paused to show a simple necklace, black with a colorful stone in the middle. A gift from Morticia. “And we burn it in a green fire that never stops burning, they leave it in the family heirloom dungeon…I don’t know how they made it green but they do. It looks super cool.”

Then she sat again, a small, closed mouth smile on her lips. One of her fingers touched the underside of her chin and she giggled a little. Enid’s nose twitched and she tried her best to control her smirk, she had gotten better at identifying the faint smell and the little disturbance in the air that marked a presence she no longer felt annoyed by.

But Enid was nothing if not indulgent, so she’d rather keep talking and pretending nothing was going on.

“This isn’t like shooting stars…we can talk about our wishes. I think I want some peace, maybe some more success…clarity, y’know? All those things we usually need when we get a little older. Hm…maybe–”

“What are you doing?” Agnes suddenly appeared by her side.

Enid jumped out of courtesy but sent a wink to the camera. Agnes laughed at her, head up and smug smirk.

“Agnes! I told you to stop doing that!” Enid playfully scolded and pulled the chair on Wednesday’s vanity besides hers, and patted the seats. “I’m telling them some of my wishes for later.”

Agnes sat down and nervously fixed her hair. Enid hoped exposition would fix her anxiety of being seen.

“We can do that?” Enid nodded and Agnes bit her lip before smiling a little shyly. “I want to join you guys on your trips,” she pouted.

Enid shook her head. “Wait ‘till you graduate…for now you’ll be Oracle instead of Robin, yeah? She’s much cooler anyway.”

“I don’t know what the hell you’re talking about,” she frowned.

Enid sighed, a little exasperated. “You need more culture.”

Agnes clicked her tongue. “I am cultured. Wednesday says so.”

“Wednesday also doesn’t know the difference between Fifth Harmony, Little Mix and Red Velvet so we really can’t take her opinion into account, can we?”

A mumble came from her right. Enid wasn’t sure if it was a that’s fair or you’re right. Either way, she was fully taking the win.

“Wait– did you show them?” Agnes suddenly asked, her finger pointing at the doll Wednesday had gifted her on their first day of junior year.

She hummed in surprise and immediately pointed the camera at it. “Guys! Weds gave me this like– almost three years ago,” she squealed and showed the details of the doll. “So cute!”

“Did she ever tell you where she got it?” Agnes tilted her head, it reminded Enid too much of her stalker era to do much other than let her face scrunch in disgust.

“Nope!” She forced her face into an easy smile and focused the camera again. “And I don’t wanna know!” A wink at the lens.

“You are so…”

Enid shushed her and posed at the camera, turning it a little so it could focus on Agnes too. She kept posing until Agnes relented and threw a little peace sign and a strained smile. More than good enough. 

The next time the camera turned on the family and the guests, who honestly…were on their way to admitting they were part of the first group, were talking animatedly and laughing in front of a bonfire. The view was close to the ground, almost too close and the camera was clumsy. 

“What are you doing?” A monotone voice came from above.

“Wanna show,” a little noise of struggle as the cameraman attempted to move the camera up. “The wolf.”

The higher voice hummed and suddenly the camera moved enough for it to be a more familiar height off the ground.

“You have thirteen seconds until I put you down,” it stated.

A childish giggle sounded and the camera focused on the huge wolf yawning near the fire. Pugsley and Eugene resting on the side of it, leaning against Enid as if she was a particularly comfortable recliner. The hand holding the camera moved a little more and the top of a redhead poked out from Eugene’s side, resting on his shoulder. 

“Horrifying…magnificent. Don't you think so?”

“Yes,” his tone was so serious, so deep for such a small child. “Enid wolf’s pretty.”,

A beat of silence.

“Pubert,” the voice sounded. The child hummed. “What are you grateful for this year?”

“Mama,” he muttered. “Enid…”

Another hum. “Got it, little terror,” a yawn. “Now, c’mon…we both need to retire.”

“Wendy,” he mumbled. An old nickname she thought he outgrew in the last year.

The camera caught a sigh, a tired one but fond nonetheless. 

Then it was off.

“Time for gifts!” The camera turned on again. It was clearly the next day and Enid showed off her ugly sweater, red and white and with reindeers all over it. “Aunt Ophelia left in the morning, boo! She said it was time to be with her coven, I get it…Uncle Fester and Grandmama are currently missing. They'll probably show up tomorrow morning,” a shrug.

Then she focused on the people sitting in the living room. The scene was cozy and she hoped it was enough for people to actually start understanding the Addams, enough for them to overlook the bear head and taxidermied posed rats above the fireplace.

She focused first on Pubert, his little body almost shook with excitement and his arms wiggled in the air. Adorable. There were three boxes near him and he was polite enough to wait for Enid to give the ok for him to open them.

The first was from Gomez, a handcarved, handmade train toy. He laughed and squealed in happiness, getting up to hug and kiss his father. Then, from Morticia, his first own dagger. Also handmade.

Wednesday, Pugsley and herself gifted him a doctor set. A professional one, he had been babbling about being a doctor for a while and they couldn't not do it. Enid was just glad she caught the way his eyes lit up and his smile even scrunched his little moustache a bit.

Agnes got a magic tome from Wednesday and Morticia, she had been eager to start learning runes for a while now and though Nevermore had an introductory class it wasn't enough for her. Gomez and Enid found a beautiful necklace with matching earrings one of these days, pure white gold with a little fox pendant and charms, the eyes were made of emeralds. Just like her.

Eugene and Pugsley attempted to crochet each a sweater and, surprisingly, Pugsley's was much prettier and even more functional. Eugene's one would be good to sleep, thankfully he handed it alongside a beanie that was decently well made. Agnes looked at it with a bit of disgust but Enid knew she would wear it anyway.

Eugene got, from everyone, new equipment for the hives. Some especially fitted for winter, it would get harsher in a few weeks and they all knew sometimes Nevermore didn't have the proper tools to handle it. There was always a huge loss of insect life during this time of the year and this time he probably wouldn't be able to keep them in his room.

Agnes and Pugsley also gave him a few games for his switch. Enid didn't know which ones, again, not much of a gamer. She made sure to turn the camera towards herself and shrug, a text on screen saying that she wasn't sponsored so no free promo.

Pugsley got a new chemistry set from his friends, a new backpack from Enid, his current one was in terrible condition, and it was fairly recent, and she found this almost bulletproof one online. Wednesday gave him a single handmade grenade, Enid knew he would throw it and somehow get back to him. 

He seemed to know too, his eyes narrowed but they knew he'd use it until the end of the day. He could never quite control himself.

His parents gave him a new telescope. He had started watching the stars for some reason the last few months or so, maybe puberty made Addams boys a tad more sentimental.

Enid got a new sweater, black with pastel pink little hearts, labeled from Morticia and Gomez. Most likely handmade and the softest thing she ever touched. She knew Gomez probably made the little hearts, to think of him sitting and learning how to knit for her made her eyes sting with tears. She did love them.

The unholy trio had gotten her a handmade scrapbook of her best moments of senior year. Enid frowned at some of those pictures, there was no way they could have possibly known about most of that. One look at Agnes’ sheepish face told her all she had to know. They really needed to have another conversation about boundaries.

Then the most anticipated one was in her hands. All black wrapping with no signs of a bow anywhere near it. The camera caught her rolling her eyes in good nature and Wednesday’s very smug sort of smirk. They had agreed not to spend too much on each other’s gifts, so she really was anticipating this.

She half expected another creepy doll but a lump showed in her throat when she opened the wrapping and there were two items inside. A book, all black with a golden raven engraved on it. Enid squealed, she knew Wednesday would self publish her first novel after the new years, to have the first copy be hers was enough to make the very back of her eyes sting.

She looked at Wednesday, who kept her neutral expression, though she knew her eyes were mixed between excitement and nervousness.

“Open it,” she quietly – Enid would so like to use the word softly but Wednesday still had her reservations in front of family  – demanded.

She didn't show the camera, they would have to buy her roomie's book for that. She was a great promoter like that, a great friend. But it caught her eyes tearing. There, on the first page;

“To the light caught in my ever present moroseness, I dedicate to you each gory word in these pages.

With wretched gratefulness, W.A.”

She sniffed, trying not to show just how much this gift spoke to her, and moved on to the next item with a single more look at her friend. Her friend who refused to match her eyesight, Enid didn't expect her to, not after that.

If anyone knew just how much Wednesday's writing was deeply etched into her very soul, how much blood she poured into it, how much of her those pages contained it was Enid. Of course, she had known Evelyn – the best character in the damn books, in her humblest opinion – had been based on her, had even given some output after the whole body swap fiasco. But it was one thing to be a character in her best friend's major self insert novel, it was another to have the whole thing dedicated towards her. 

Her wolf howled and whined in her head, she ignored it completely and grinned at the other thing in the box. She turned towards the camera and raised a coupon at it. Two thousand dollars at the best yarn shop in town wasn't a joke.

She had complained once to Wednesday about five months ago over not knitting anymore and that she wanted to get back at it but just could never find it within herself to. The last thing she made had been Bianca's beanie almost a year before. 

If her heart fluttered at the fact that Wednesday remembered it, the public didn't have to know about that.

“Chat, I totally am going to post some tutorials,” a squeal. “This is so exciting!”

Then it was suddenly off.

“Guys…I'm sorry but Weds said she'd rather jump into a vat of alcohol after skinning herself than be forever on the internet opening gifts…so I didn't record her,” Enid shrugged and scratched her jaw a little, a tiny giggle in her lips.

“But! I won't leave you hungry and begging,” she wagged a finger at the camera. “I love you guys too much,” a hand to her chest and a pout.

“Anyways! Morticia and Gomez gave her new stuff for her typewriter, she was complaining about having to go out and buy it,” an eye roll. “Pugs gave her a Soviet rifle…authentic, apparently.”

A beat of silence and a little smirk.

“Agnes and Eugene joined forces and got her some new top notch strings for her cello,” a more dramatic pause. “And…I,” she stomped her foot in drumrolls.

More silence. Then a little scrunch of her nose.

“I found a couple of dead ravens in one of my walks in the woods when we got back from our last trip,” Enid mockingly gagged. “It was disgusting but I sent the more conserved one for someone to taxiderm it, I even told them to put a little black hoodie, striped shirt and pants on so it could sit in a little miniature typewriter I commissioned.”

A gasp.

“I’ll put the taxidermy shop and the typewriter maker in the bio…if any of you find creepy dead animals and wanna play dolls with them, now you can! And it's totally not weird!”

“I had some help to clean the yucky and bleach the other one's bones. The poor thing was probably attacked by an animal. There were scratches on the bones but it was weirdly kinda preserved?” She asked, head tilting at the camera.

“Anyways, the bones were intact so I made another little thing for her to put on her shelf and she loved it!” Enid clapped excitedly, if she was in her wolf form her tail would be wagging.

“She even said,” Enid cleared her throat and lowered her voice, making sure to add the vocal fry. “I appreciated the gesture, Enid. They will be of the utmost importance.”

She giggled again, almost manically. Enid was sure some of her followers would probably think her strange.

“I won't show it cause I think it's against guidelines,” a shrug. “But what can we do, ya know?”

“Before some of you ask about Gomez and Morticia's gifts…we all joined in to give Gomez a realistic Glacier Express track, snow included. We had to commission it months in advance,” a sigh. “Oh! I'll also link it in the bio, so check it out.”

“And for Morticia we also joined in to get her a whole painting set, with frames, oil paints and seventeen types of brushes…I didn't know there were that many. But she said she wanted to start so…why not.”

“They said they'd only accept one gift from us,” she then made quotations with her fingers. “‘Kids’ and if we really wanted to give it to them they'd accept it at other times of the year…something about us not surrendering to ‘capitalistic traditions’ out of a sense of obligation.”

“But I'll knit them sweaters with the all new yarn I'm gonna buy…maybe a quilt for their bed,” she mused aloud.

“Anyways guys, this was Christmas with the Addams…they're really great! And I love them…I hope this helps you see them as, y’know…people.”

Enid smiled at the camera and waved frantically. “Bye! I'll see you guys…one day!”

—

[DELETED FOOTAGE 334]

“So…” she moved closer to the camera, her body the only thing visible in the shot. “I called someone super special to do my makeup for tonight's party!” She wiggled excitedly. “My guest is,” Enid stopped herself to make drumming noises with her mouth and moved back in a sudden jerk to reveal her company. “Aunt Ophelia!”

“Hi!” She said looking at Enid then her head shook in every direction possible, the purple and yellow flower crown impeccable in placement. “Which– where– do I just–”

Enid giggled and pointed at the camera. “Just say hi, maybe introduce yourself.”

“Hi! Hello! I’m Ophelia Frump,” she extended her hand for a shake, smile wide and energy so pleasant Enid relaxed her shoulders completely. “And um…I’m Morticia’s older sister!”

“First of all, loving the outfit,” she pointed at the long sleeved white sundress, some lace patterns on the collar and skirt. It was so pretty, almost like a wedding dress. “Second, you had such a nice eye look when you got here, I gotta learn how to do it.”

Ophelia put a hand on her chest, a little pout of gratitude in her lips. “You’re so sweet. Now, it’s very easy…just–”

Then she pointed at a small brush, thicker bristle. It really wasn’t complicated. Since it was winter they settled on a colder palette, light blue in a nice gradient to purple. It was a little heavier than her usual looks in shadow, she usually focused more on blush and lips. Ophelia had naturally pinkish cheeks, she didn’t have to put too much effort into it but she enjoyed making her eyes pop, her eyeshadow always matched her earrings somehow. 

Enid’s lips parted as she started applying mascara, the camera captured Ophelia’s eyes focused on her with nothing but adoration, she was a little more open than her sister. Just a tad, both of them were rather easy to read if one focused on their eyes. A family thing, Enid could guess.

“How are things with my darling niece going?”

Enid’s hand almost faltered but she understood the nature of the situation, Ophelia had a strange speech pattern sometimes. Not surprising in the slightest.

“Well…we’re at a stage in our friendship where I started buying black hoodies.”

Ophelia laughed at that, a wink sent to the camera. “Oh, I get it…when we found out about it I started wearing daisies,” she pointed at the crown in her head, the flowers changed every day but there were always white ones, a laugh bubbling in her lips. “Her reactions can be so nasty.”

“Yeah…I know,” Enid blurted out and noticed how confused Ophelia looked at her from behind her own reflection. She finished applying her mascara and grabbed a lip liner, another glance back. “Body swap.”

Ophelia chuckled. “Ah, classic.”

Enid just smirked. “I thought she was joking about the whole skin peeling off thing until I felt it.”

“Oh, she learned sarcasm at a very young age. I wasn’t aware she joked.”

“Well, I’m about to rock your world! She told me a knock knock joke on my birthday. As a treat,” she may have been bragging. Smirk, shoulder shimmy and glimmer in her eyes at the way Ophelia widened hers. 

“No way!”

“Total way,” she cleared her throat and lowered her voice, a deadpan perfect after so much time spent together. “Knock knock.”

Ophelia giggled, her shock turning into glee. “Who’s there?”

“X.”

“X who?”

“Axe murderer. You’re dead.”

Ophelia broke out in laughter. It wasn’t a very good joke, both of them knew, but Thing had let it spill that Wednesday spent an entire night workshopping that. 

“Oh, that is just adorable,” Ophelia cooed, knowing she’d be safe from death glares, thrown knives and a minuscule pout that would make her lose it all over again. How she loved her little niblings.

“I know,” Enid giggled. “She’s so cute!”

Her eyes were too soft, her smile too fond, the blush in the tip on her ears couldn’t be hidden by makeup. She couldn’t post that, lest she wanted people to start speculating about things they had no business even considering.