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The week had been rough. A failed date, a nagging roommate, and now Enid’s skin was prickling with anticipation. The moon was full and bright, and Enid was glad she could decompress by shifting after the days she had had.
She put in her magically altered AirPods, strapped her phone band to her arm, and shifted. Her coat gleamed under the cascading moonlight as she stretched into the form that finally felt like relief. It was way past midnight, and she was sure a run would help her sleep well that night.
She bolted forward, closing her eyes as the wind hit her face. The urge to stick out her tongue was almost winning her over, but she restrained herself; she wasn’t a dog after all. She loved this time of the night, few cars and people roamed around, and she could even sometimes run into fellow wolves, and they’d challenge each other in little races.
Life was starting to feel good again, her music blasting into her ears, the moon beckoning her to run faster, letting go, and she did, rounding the corner at full speed. She never saw the trailer…
The driver hit the brakes, but it was too late, and he unfortunately slammed straight into the massive wolf…
…
Wednesday had been ready to call it a day. The mortuary was quiet as usual, and she preferred it that way until Sheriff Santiago walked in, pushing a gurney into her pristine autopsy room. “Miss. Addams, I’ve got one more for the night.” She announced, “I know it's late, but this one you'll want to see.”
Wednesday raised an eyebrow, walking towards the gurney, unzipping the body bag with practiced ease. She took one look and inhaled as the Sheriff started talking, “She was pronounced dead on the scene. A hit and run. I have to get back to the station to help find who's responsible for this. Hope you don’t mind finishing this one up tonight and filing the paperwork.”
Wednesday could feel the oncoming headache; she nodded, and the Sheriff was out with a tilt of her hat.
Wednesday looked back at the body, “I thought you were not interested in a second date, yet after a week, we meet again, Miss Sinclair.” She opened the body bag completely and began to examine it, filling out the paperwork as she went through Enid’s injuries.
“Miss. Enid Sinclair, female human, mid-twenties, blunt force trauma due to being hit by a trailer.” She scribbled in the chart as she continued, “A shattered sternum, nasal fracture, face shows signs of impact, right orbital collapse…” She slid the body onto her examining table, covering her with a clean white sheet up to her shoulders. “Interesting. Why were you out in the street nude, Miss. Sinclair?”
She gathered the necessary instruments to start with Enid’s autopsy, her body ready for the infamous Y-incision.
Wednesday lowered her glasses and picked up the scalpel, voice low and matter-of-fact. "It is quite curious how my proximity to death put you off, yet how delightfully ironic it is that death has delivered you to me instead. It appears you were dying to see me, after all...”
She pressed the blade just below the sternum, making the body jerk.
Wednesday froze; was her mind playing tricks on her, she pondered. The scalpel momentarily hovered over Enid.
That’s when Enid's eyes snapped open, bright blue, very much alive, and she bolted upright with a gasp, sending all of Wednesday’s medical equipment flying across the room. She clutched the sheet to her chest like it was scandalous lingerie.
“Owwwww! Fuck!” Enid yelled, “The fuck was that!” She shook her head. Wednesday stared quietly, watching Enid’s bones audibly snap back into place beneath her skin, leaving only bruises in their wake.
“Fascinating,” Wednesday said softly. She hadn't moved. The scalpel was still in her hand, held aloft. She stared, her expression a masterpiece of controlled shock.
“Shit!” Enid’s focus was now on her. “Wednesday?”
“Yes?” She replied, matter-of-factly.
“…Were you about to dissect me?” Enid asked, voice still croaky.
“That was the scheduled activity that you have somehow interrupted,” Wednesday said, finally putting the scalpel down. "You were pronounced dead at the scene," Wednesday continued, tone even despite the adrenaline spike she refused to acknowledge. "Traumatic impact with no pulse detected. A standard procedure."
Enid swallowed. “But…I’m not dead.”
“I am aware,” Wednesday said calmly. “Hit and run victims seldom complain about customer satisfaction and are far less…conversational.”
Enid touched her face, wincing. "Yeah, that hurt like hell. But...werewolf healing usually slows everything down. I think it's like just...shutting off for a while. Like hibernation mode." She laughed shakily. "Guess that trailer didn't finish the job…sorry for ruining your dramatic moment, though." She shrugged.
Wednesday's lips twitched with the barest hint of a smirk. "On the contrary, this is the most entertaining resurrection I have witnessed…and I have seen quite a few..."
Enid swung her legs over the edge of the table, still wrapped in the sheet like a toga. "So...this is awkward. You were about to cut me open because I ghosted you after one coffee date."
"Technically, you were the ghost." Wednesday crossed her arms. "And I do not hold grudges against the recently deceased. You have, however, created a significant amount of paperwork.”
“Sorry?” Enid questioned curiously.
“You were declared legally deceased. Reversing that requires several forms...” Wednesday concluded, flipping through the papers the Sheriff handed her earlier.
Enid stared. “You’re…not freaked out?”
“I am mildly inconvenienced,” Wednesday corrected. “There is a difference.”
Enid chuckled, “Of course, paperwork would annoy you more than a literal walking corpse.”
Wednesday looked at her over her glasses, “I must inform the sheriff that you are…undead. There are some freshly washed robes in that wardrobe over there.” She pointed towards the corner of the room with her pen.
Enid awkwardly slid off the table and clutched the sheet around herself, wobbling to grab a robe. “…So,” Enid said, now hidden away behind a room divider. “This is not how I imagined seeing you again…”
“I was under the impression that seeing me again was the last thing on your to-do list,” Wednesday replied dryly.
Enid winced, she did deserve that... “For the record, I didn’t say no to a second date because of you. I just…freaked out about the whole mortician thing.”
Wednesday narrowed her eyes. “You are currently alive because of the mortician thing.”
“…Yeah,” Enid said, walking back out, barefoot, and sitting on a chair near Wednesday’s desk. “You know, this is actually kind of funny.”
“It is objectively amusing,” Wednesday agreed as she jotted notes on the fresh set of paper.
Enid smiled, now feeling slightly less wobbly, “Can I be honest?” She asked tentatively.
Wednesday just nodded, prompting her to continue.
“See you like this… It's kinda interesting, not gonna lie.” Enid said sheepishly.
Wednesday set her pen down, pushing her glasses back up over her head, "Flattery from a corpse. How novel."
"Not a corpse anymore." Enid reached out, hesitant, and brushed a stray hair from Wednesday's forehead. "So...if I'm technically back from the dead, may I have a second chance? Like, coffee round two? No buts this time. Promise."
Wednesday considered her for a moment, the twist of things, the hopeful eyes now staring at her, the absurdity of it all.
Finally, she said, “A second chance… One could call this fate. And I have learned that when the universe delivers a prospective date to your place of work in a body bag, it would be foolish to ignore the omen. I shall grant it, only on the condition that you permit me to document your regenerative process…for science.”
A full laugh bubbled out of Enid. It was the same too-loud laugh from their first date, but now it sounded like music. “Oh my god. Only you could make that romantic.”
“Was it?” Wednesday asked, a flicker of genuine curiosity in her voice.
Enid flashed her a huge smile, “Yeah. It really was.” She winked, “Pick me up tomorrow at seven?”
Wednesday ducked her head, a faint flush creeping up her neck, a betrayal she'd deny if asked. She pushed her glasses back into place, reaching for her pen. “Now, if you do not mind, please remain seated until the sheriff arrives. I need to fill out some rather complicated forms explaining why I am going to walk out of here with a presumed corpse as a date.”