Chapter Text
She walked through the mansion’s halls carrying a large platter with almost four kilos of the finest beef. Enid deserved nothing less. It had been a week since her roommate had arrived at the Addams property, turned into a wolf.
All of it had been possible thanks to her Uncle Fester and his countless contacts across the country.
After explaining the situation and what it meant for her friend to be wandering who knows where, the man reached out to everyone he knew in the hunting world. He paid them an exorbitant sum of money to search and report any small detail about the whereabouts of a multicolored werewolf. And, refusing to sit idly by, she joined the search as well. She went through forest after forest, one by one, until exhaustion.
Despite the days passing, her hopes stayed high. She was more than certain her friend would return to her; she wasn’t going to allow her to be taken away.
She could live in misery until the day she died, but Enid? Did Enid deserve that ending? The answer was so obvious that even her parents didn’t question her when they saw her work until she collapsed.
But it had been worth it, and the letter from Fester announcing that they had found the wolf, though badly injured, was clear proof that nothing had been in vain.
The wolf had been found in the middle of a battle against other wolves, who had cornered her as a pack to attack. The hunters who identified her testified that they recognized her purely by luck. Rain, mud, and blood had nearly hidden her completely.
The uproar of the fight had been so loud that the men heard it from far away while camping in a forest in Canada. The metallic stench of blood, one of them mentioned, could be smelled even through the torrential rain that lashed the area that night.
They approached the area quietly, with night vision cameras and silver bullets loaded in every weapon, ready for any trouble that full moon might bring. And then they saw her.
The wolf was badly hurt. One leg was clearly broken, and a few more bites would have torn it off completely. Her fur was matted with mud and thick blood, but her colors still shone through.
When they focused on the wolf, struggling in vain to escape the pack’s fangs, their binoculars caught the multicolored strands. It was so fleeting that the hunter thought it had been an illusion caused by exhaustion and poor light, but the money Fester was paying and the reward for catching the true wolf left no room for mistakes.
They acted quickly, raising their weapons and firing into the air first to scare the animals, but it didn’t work. The attackers were still determined to tear her apart. When they saw one of the wolves sneaking from behind to ambush the multicolored wolf, they fired.
It was a direct, precise shot. Straight to the chest.
The wolf fell to the ground, its flesh burning and rotting under the deadly effect of silver.
Time froze. The pack stood still, and the prey seized the moment to run.
The wolf ran.
She ran with the will of someone who wants to live one more day.
She ran so death wouldn’t find her in a body that wasn’t hers. Under vengeful hands that didn’t know she had once been so much more than a beast.
The hunters had to shoot two more wolves, who seemed reluctant to let her go, chasing her with bloodlust.
When they found her, she was in a cave. Huddled in a corner as if trying to escape all the cruelty of the world.
She didn’t fight when they approached, didn’t attack, she just watched.
Her eyes darted everywhere, trying to take in the last details and exhaling her final breath while still alive.
They shot her with several tranquilizers. One by one sank into her flesh. She didn’t resist.
And then, lights out.
It took them almost an hour to get her into the truck, where they bandaged her wounds and stopped the bleeding all over her body, especially her front left leg.
They washed her fur with warm water and confirmed she was the one they had been looking for.
Fester told her with excitement once he saw her in person, and for the first time in so long, she could breathe.
Since she was still in wolf form, they had to move her to the basement, a wide, reinforced place meant for beasts of her kind. There, they had no choice but to chain her.
Not for their safety—they were more than willing to face whatever the wolf was capable of—but for hers. She was already with them; they couldn’t risk her escaping or hurting herself trying.
During her unconscious hours, they managed to give her fluids intravenously, along with anti-inflammatories and painkillers for her wounds. When she woke, she ripped them out.
She pulled at the chains countless times, growling until her throat could only make gasping sounds.
Wednesday wanted to get closer, to check if the beast could recognize her, but she held back, at least at first.
The seer had never seen such a large animal look so… afraid.
At first, she tried to tear out the throat of anyone who dared approach, even if it was only to offer food or water. But as the days went on, that aggression was replaced by desperation, and then, like that night in the cave running from death, the wolf gave up. As if resigning herself to find another way to escape.
She didn’t sleep, didn’t eat, didn’t drink. She only watched, as if waiting for something to happen.
Several times they locked eyes. Wednesday, from a gap in the metal door that served to watch the inside, observed the beast.
She could spend hours like that, just looking. Maybe to check if her wounds were healing well, or maybe searching for those blue eyes she missed so much.
Her only comfort was knowing she was there. Not human, but the simple fact that her friend was still there, somewhere in the animal’s consciousness, gave her a strange peace.
She had kept her promise. Enid was back.
Where she belonged.
Not in Nevermore, not in San Francisco. No.
She didn’t belong in those places. Not where she had suffered, or where she had been discriminated against for years while no one in charge did anything.
She belonged here. Where she had food, water, medicine.
Where they would move heaven and earth to make sure she would never again sleep cold in the rain. Where they would kill anyone who dared to lay a hand on her again, treating her as if she wasn’t worthy of affection.
Here, Enid was Enid. Not a beast, not a danger.
Wednesday opened the metal door, making an audible screech that echoed through the concrete walls.
Immediately, two eyes were on her, analyzing every move. Yet she didn’t flinch.
The seer placed the platter on the floor, and with a large metal rod, pushed it close enough for the wolf to reach. And as usual, she turned around and left, closing the door behind her.
She opened the small window slightly, making sure the animal wouldn’t notice her watching, and waited.
The wolf, after a few seconds of sniffing the air and inspecting every corner of the wide room, stood up. Her left leg was still in a cast, still healing from her severe wounds, but she managed to rise and eat.
It was quick, as if she feared the food would vanish if she lowered her guard, and when she finished, she returned to her corner. She lay down there, pressed against the wall, and for a brief moment, Wednesday noticed she was about to fall asleep.