Chapter Text
The sky grows dark with clouds, a distant rumbling accompanying the incoming storm. A howling gust of wind circles the streets, begging for the destruction of the town as it lashes at the lone figure. The rumbling is getting closer, only emphasising the other features of the storm. Leaves of all shades of red and yellow scatter the streets in an attempt to flee from the merciless wind whilst their slender wooden counterparts are left to creak and snap. The sound of fabric rustling is lost amongst the sound of the trees and bushes. Rubbish makes its way briskly across the path, making sure to decorate itself across the nearby park. The swings inside the nearby park are flailing ravenously as their chains threaten to tether from their base. There are no children in the park, and upon further inspection you'd notice there are no adults there either. The entire street and park resembles that of a ghost town and it's nothing short of thrilling. It'd be almost calming if it wasn't for the situation going on. The air reeks of rain, invading the nostrils of anyone outside. The storm is furious and blood thirsty. A brewing beast, no doubt.
A pair of plaited pigtails flail in the fury of mother nature, whilst a pair of dark eyes pierce every alley and dark corner. She's beginning to find it difficult to see due to how dark it's gotten, not to mention her current inability to hear over the storm. She refuses to give up. She won't, Not yet. Her boots hit the pavement heavily as she fights the force of nature that threatens to knock her over. Her long coat proves to be a good shield between her skin and the cold wind. She feels the first cold spit from the clouds land on her forehead, followed by the roar of its siblings. It isn't uncommon for Jericho to get such heavy rain. Nor are the storms uncommon. Wednesday liked that about Jericho.
She can hear another rumble closing in on her. Not a storm kind of rumble, no. This rumble sounds very much like a car. She closes her eyes tightly, allowing her other senses to heighten. She stands blind in the middle of the downpour, listening closely. To her left. Approximately eight houses down. On the opposite side of the row of houses. She can hear a car starting. Her perpetrator, no doubt. She wastes no time sprinting into action. Her feet pound against the ground, creating tsunami's along the concrete as she goes. It doesn't take her long to hit the tall fence of the first house of the row. She swiftly grabs the top of the fence as she lunges towards it, rapidly throwing herself over it and continues her sprint. Her feet skid across the flooded pavement as she turns the corner.
She can see the car. Its hind lights are practically blinding, bleeding its bloody colour all over the road and on Wednesday herself. After a second, it's obvious her perp must've spotted her through the rear view mirror. The road is a dead end, and Wednesday is the only thing blocking their escape. So it's only natural for them to attempt to reverse into the Addams. All she can see is red. The bright colours burn into her retinas. The rain is as heavy as her breathing is getting. She's soaked through and unsure how well her grip is upon the pool of downpour on the floor but she sees no other outcome. She grits her teeth as she gets ready for impact. Her palms are drenched in a mixture of sweat and the storm. The engine growls as the bumper slams into her pale hands. The car pushes, and so does the Addams. Her grip on the floor quickly begins to drag her shoes across the cemented road. Her teeth are grinding much like the gears of the car. Somehow she's able to keep the vehicle in place. She can hear the engine struggling against her, hear the panic in her perpetrator spike as they realise they aren't going to get away like this. Just imagining the fear hitting them brings a small psychotic grin to her face.
Her fingers are starting to dent the bonnet of the car. Drowning in a mix of metal and storm. The tires are burning out against the concrete, tainting the smell of rain with a fresh scent of burnt rubber. Wednesday finds that she enjoys the smell. Her eyes are fixed in a permanent glare at the reflective mirror that houses her perpetrator's terror filled gaze. The car creaks and groans as she tightens her grip on the bonnet. The thunder is desperate to feature in the scene but is merely lost with the rain and the engine, its spot light long forgotten this time. With a cacophonous groan, the car finally stalls. The seer finally releases her grip on the iron horse and allows her fingers and knuckles the sweet relief of a crack. The vehicle's tires are practically eroded amongst the rough road and the bonnet features ten large finger sized delves.
Her perp is quick to scramble out of the car, plummeting into the puddles below their car. Wednesday's quick to jump on them and within seconds the criminal is in cuffs and crying out for mercy. The detective grabs her radio from her belt, alerting her partner of the arrest and their location for a pick up. In the meantime, it does not pass her by that the rain is beginning to die off. It saddens her that she was unable to thoroughly enjoy the storm. Perhaps next time.
She can hear another car approaching. A car she can recognise in an instant. A black ford parks just in front of the two of them. Her partner has arrived. The door opens and a blonde woman with pink and blue dyed tips exits just as the clouds separate enough for the sun to break through. It hits the car and the woman perfectly. Enid Sinclair, a heavenly sight to behold, truly. Her piercing ocean blue eyes are quick to meet Wednesday's. The woman's lips curl into a satisfied grin. A grin that puts her fangs on show for the world to see.
The woman’s sight is snuffed in the bright pinks and yellows of Enid's sweater. No matter how many times Wednesday tells her to wear appropriate clothes to work, the werewolf will never listen. Wednesday follows the sweater to Enid’s outstretched hand that reaches towards her, her brightly coloured nails merely inches from her face. Wednesday is quick to quirk a brow at the woman as she waits for her to remember.
"Oh, right. Not one for physical contact, my bad". She pulls her hand back as Wednesday stands, the perp still in her grip. "We managed to retrieve the stolen belongings from their apartment downtown around fifteen minutes ago so we've got all the evidence we need. C'mon, chuck 'em in the back and let's get back to the station, the Sheriff apparently wants to talk to us."
The Addams merely nods firmly as Enid opens the door in the back for her to shove the perp in. They both get into the front and head back to the station. Enid being the only one to engage in a very one sided conversation with Wednesday, who merely stares at the road as she drives. She much prefers to drive over having Enid drive. The werewolf isn't the greatest driver at the best of times. The perp has stayed silent since Enid turned up, not that Enid nor Wednesday care to even acknowledge any attempts to talk from them.
If it wasn't for Enid, the wet screeching of tires, and the engine of the car, Wednesday would've believed that the entirety of Jericho had been cast in silence. There appears to be no soul left in the small town. Wednesday couldn't even catch a glance at a figure similar to a human.
As they approach the station, a flock of crows catches the detective's attention. The flock line themselves on the roofing of every house in the area, on every house surrounding the car. The only movement from the avians is the cocking of their curious heads as they track the vehicle. The car slows upon encountering a red light, allowing Wednesday to close her eyes and take a deep breath for a brief second before continuing on at the green light.
Eventually, the station comes into view. Police vehicles line the station's front. The front was also decorated with the occasional dotted officer, either conversing with another, heading inside the station, or heading to a patrol car. The station's walls were meant to look a pale white but have quickly turned into a dark murky grey, mixed with the deep greys of the roofing and its broken guttering. The building is small and "L" shaped and sits right next to the local library. The windows that line the building have become murky and stained with the buildup of dirt and dust that flails in the wind of Jericho. Not a single window is able to open which causes the station to become reportedly humid and hot, the scent of the air always laced with sweat and coffee. Wednesday didn't mind any of it, her werewolf partner on the other hand had a few choice words about it all.
The Addams parks the vehicle outside of the station's double glass doors. Both detectives exit the car at the same time. Enid circles around to Wednesday's side and opens the back door, forcefully grabbing the cuffs on the perpetrator's hands and pulling them out of the car. The perp complied and didn't fight back, as they allowed the werewolf to bring them into the station with Wednesday following close to the side.
The inside of the building looks just as bad as the outside, its once white walls once again a dull grey. The building is dark due to the lack of natural sunlight and its dull fluorescent lighting. Low mumbles typically fill the room as officers converse with each other, discussing case details and weekend plans. The floor of the station is that of, yet again, a dark grey tacky carpet that is littered with coffee stains. The seer doesn't want to even think about what else may be staining the dreaded carpet. The room is laced with desks that are typically either filled with cases and reports or rubbish along with an old bulky computer and the rest of it's set up. Rarely any of the desk chairs are pushed in, typically due to the owners of said chairs rushing out on patrol.
A few desks into the building and Enid lightly nudges Wednesday's arm to gesture to follow her as she navigates the maze of desks looking for someone to take over their arrest. It doesn't take Enid long to find another officer to deal with their perpetrator whilst the pair spoke to the Sheriff.
"Bianca! Hey! Could you take care of our perp whilst we go talk to the Sheriff? They're the perpetrator for case 527, the local jeweller's case." It isn't a question, Enid has already thrown the perp into Bianca's desk and continues walking as she speaks. "Dude's a fast runner so keep an eye on them. 'Kay? Thanks! Byeeee~!"
The siren doesn't even get a chance to respond as the pair vanish into the Sheriff's office.
The room is as dark as the rest of the building. The top part of the walls are all streaked with water damage and, quite possibly, the beginnings of mold. The room smells like the rest of the station but with the added smell of dampness. The room features a small, paper filled, desk with three chairs and two potted plants decorating the corners behind the desk. One chair is placed behind the desk whilst the other two decorated the other side, each chair facing each other. The chair that sits behind the desk is a torn and tattered black leather office chair, whilst the other chairs are a battered murky wooden build. A single light sits on the left side of the desk, its bulb glowing dull in the dark dullness of the grey room. The walls are lined with battered filing cabinets and a single, busy, pin board that is showcased on the back wall. The board clearly presents the middle of an investigation as it is filled with photos, sticky notes, red string, and pins of all colours.
There sat in the torn up office chair is a pencil of a man. His stubbly excuse for a beard has turned grey and patchy, whilst his eyebrows have become overgrown and bushy. His decreasing hair is a pale white that curls around the top of his freckle filled scalp. The Sheriff's eyes have long since sunken in, the dark eye bags becoming a permanent feature years ago. His once pale blue eyes became a dull grey colour, matching that of his hair, as his eyesight decayed with his age. His skin hangs loosely on his skeleton, causing his skin to slightly sag over every edge he had. The Sheriff is long past his prime.
The man had looked like he'd been a few decades past his prime when Wednesday had first met him a whole decade ago. Perhaps the man wouldn't look as old as he did if he hadn't spent so many years crying and drinking. It had been no surprise that the man had been destroyed on that fateful night, when he realised he had not only lost his wife, but his son to the very same beast. The Hyde had destroyed everything he had apart from his career. Wednesday found it admirable that the man hadn't drunk himself into an early grave and was still able to keep up his role as the town Sheriff. It was indeed true that Sheriff Donovan Galpin will do anything to protect the people of Jericho.
Galpin hasn't noticed the pair walk in, his nose buried amongst towers of reports and case files. Wednesday takes it upon herself to get his attention, silently creeping up to stand in front of the desk. The man still has yet to notice, so she clears her throat. The Sheriff flinches, his head snapping up in the direction of the girls. He puts a hand to his chest to calm his heart as he sighs deeply.
"Addams, what have I told you about sneaking up on me like that? Are you trying to give me a heart attack?!?" His voice is long since decrepit.
Wednesday's lips merely smirk as she sits down in a chair, which quickly encourages Enid to also take a seat next to her. Galpin clears his throat, attempting to gain back some of his composure. He fixes his tie then allows his eyes to meet the pair.
"Good job on case 527, they were a real slippery kid". The pair nod their thanks as the man continues, "Now for the reason I called you here. I have an important case I need you to both work on, as my best detectives. We're dealing with a mass murder and kidnapping. I've got eleven bodies in the morgue over this case, and eight missing persons. We have yet to see a pattern or to figure out whether it's genocide or not. Six of the missing persons were children, the remaining three were adults of all different professions and species".
Enid's eyes widen comically with the information she is being told. Eleven murders? Eight missing persons? How is this only just hitting their radar? She turns to see her partner's reaction but is far from surprised to see no reaction at all, just a small nod from the girl.
"We'll take the case. Send the files to my desk and I'll look through them, and if there's any further details let us know. We'll get started immediately". Wednesday states. Enid is used to Wednesday signing them both up for big cases with no input from herself, though she never minded.
Galpin gives an understanding nod and shakes the pair's hand, or at least attempts to, if it wasn't for Wednesday just glaring at his hand till it recoils. They said their partings then head out of the office and across the building to get to the seer's desk.
Wednesday's desk sits in the darkest corner of the building, where barely any light hits it. The desk is painted a matt black and has papers neatly strewn in organised piles across the edge of it, along with a single black coffee mug. A bulky computer sits neatly to the side alongside a jar of ink and a feather. Her chair is identical to the old black wooden chair she had back in Nevermore.
The Addams begins piling cases and reports into a neat tower and pushes it into the corner of her desk, making room for the new case files. Wednesday takes a seat at her desk and gestures to Enid to pull her chair over from her desk. Which was right next to Wednesday's not even four feet away.
The desk is painted in vibrant colours, mostly consisting of pink. Her entire desk is in complete disarray. There are papers tossed everywhere, coffee mugs in every free corner, stickers slapped across every surface, and stuffed animals stacked all over the place. It'd be a wonder how she got any work done there, if she hadn't had a reputation for borrowing the side of Wednesday's desk already.
The werewolf is quick to drag her chair over. "So, what's the plan for starting off the case so far, Wends?" She asks as she cocks her head to the side.
Wednesday places her thumb and forefinger on her chin, allowing her finger to curl in as she lets out a subtle hum. She closes her eyes for a second as she gives a light nod.
"We begin by looking at where all the bodies were found and their autopsy reports. Perhaps we can discover a pattern that way and then follow on from there." Enid gives her a nod and a light hum of agreement.
After a few minutes more pass, an officer walks up to the desk with the case file and hands it to the Addams. "Your new case file. Case 618, mass murder and kidnapping". The officer states, then promptly leaves, leaving the pair to look over the case file.
Wednesday opens the file on the desk, allowing Enid to read over her shoulder. On the first page is where they'd begin their investigation, the crime scenes.
The seer couldn't lie, she’s excited about having a more exhilarating case over petty thefts for once. It isn't often a murder case nor a kidnapping case comes in.
Now this is where the fun begins.