our weird friendship anomaly (Wenclair)

Letters to SoulMates - 37

Her boots stepped through the large gates and across the pavement.

She followed down the decently constructed houses of the private neighborhood, only seeing a person or two walking around.

The sounds of nature were nearly dead silent, but this was how it was when she first arrived in this area.

The sun brightly shined down on the neighborhood, casting long shadows that Wednesday stepped across.

She continued down the road, passing by some residents who raised questionable stares, a few recognized her as the one who brought the lost werewolf home.

Once again, this was definitely the neighborhood of the Sinclairs.

The Addams' boots came to a halt as their home came into view.

Her dark-chocolate eyes studied Enid's home closely.

It looked... brighter?

The curtains were open and there were new flowers being planted for the Spring season.

Wednesday approached swiftly, her eyes glanced over the mailbox that read, Sinclair Residence.

She carried her feet up the small flight of stairs and stopped right before the front door.

Wednesday raised the back of hand toward the door, taking in a deep breath due to finally seeing Enid again...

And then she knocked on the door twice, in beat with a Addams Family signature theme they practiced at home.

She waited, and waited, until suddenly her breath hitched when she felt a presence rush from upstairs.

The goth gulped as she waited for the door to swing open and be embraced into open warm arms.

And then it finally did.

After an unchain and twist of the lock, the door opened but slowly instead.

Wednesday's eyes quickly adjusted to the dim-lit hall inside.

She didn't see her bright werewolf so it must've been her father or one of her brothers.

"Excuse me, I-"

Wednesday felt all the air leave her lungs.

Her eyes went wide as she saw what was happening in the far room.

Blood.

Blood was splattered everywhere.

Limbs and shreds of clothes and weapons were scattered across the floor.

There stood a few unknown people in the bloodiest room.

They all held lit torches and pitchforks.

What the- Wednesday head snapped toward the neighborhood and saw it was still the same.

This... this is your home- no, this is not your home, right, Enid?! Wednesday rushed in, passing by nobody as if the door was opened by a ghost.

Enid, no-no-no, don't tell me- Wednesday approached the group of people standing.

She immediately recognized what they were wearing and they were all in the gear of hunters.

But... but this is a private neighborhood accepted by- Wednesday didn't know when, but the tears had already fallen as she saw what the bloody hunters were standing around.