Wenclair oneshots

Addams & Co

17 210 words

Summary:
Enid joins a tiny agency of ghost hunting teenagers led by a creepy, but gorgeous, girl obssesed with death

60 years after the world ended, Enid Sinclair knocks on the door to the run-down, wonky house labeled Addams & Co.

All her belongings are stuffed into one single backpack, and she shifts it on her shoulder and shifts her weight, pretending she is not completely freaking out right now.

A futile attempt, really, her extended claws gives it away right away.

Finally, the door opens, and for a second she is too relieved to be worried at all.

The boy that opens the door is, not too surprisingly, around her own age, round glasses peeking out under the mop of brown hair and a large print of a bumblebee on his shirt.

Enid blinks, glancing at the crumbled up piece of paper in her hand.
"Addams?" she asks, nervously.
He shakes his head.
"Eugene. Eugene Ottinger", he introduces himself, éxtending his hand.
Enid takes it, forgetting her claws, and Eugene pulls his hand away when she nearly scratches him.

"Oh my god, I'm so sorry!" she cries.
He just smiles.
"Werewolf, eh?"
Enid nods tensely.
"Listening and picking up their scents, mainly", she reports.
He nods.
"Cool."

She hesitates.
"You don't look like...", she starts.
"An agent?"
"Yeah..."
"I get that a lot."
Enid nods stiffly. He gestures into the house.
"I assume you are here for the job. Wednesday's inside", Eugene says.

Enid follows him as they enter the house.
"Wednesday?" she questions, looking around the hallway, spooky decorations and old paintings of half human and half animal creatures on the walls.
"Oh, yes, Wednesday Addams is who you wanna see", Eugene explains as they walk, Enid stopping dead in her tracks and spinning around to get a second look at a sculpture of a pair of legs sticking up from a shark's mouth.
Eugene notices her staring.
"Her taste in interior design is particular, yes. Apparently it's a family trait", he says.

Enid spins around again, only to once again stopping in her tracks.
"Wait. Her?" she asks.
Eugene turns to her.
"There's no patriarchy in the hive!" he declares.
Enid stares at him.
"Sorry, bee joke... Come on, I think she's in the office", Eugene says, and Enid once again follows him without a word.

Eugene knocks twice on the doorframe to the office, and the girl typing on a typewriter by a desk with her back to them pauses the typing.
"Yes, Eugene?" she asks.
"I have an applicant for the vacant spot here. Her name is-"
"No", comes the ice cold reply.
Eugene sighs.
"I mean, she is here now anyway. just talk to her", he tries.

Wednesday turns around, getting up from the chair.

Her black hair is neatly tied into two long braids, and she is wearing a plain, black dress, fixing Enid with a cold, intense stare.
"She hardly has what it takes", she states.
Enid snaps, dropping her bag to the floor and pulling out her claws.
"You listen to me now, Wednesday, or whatever your name is! This kitty's got claws, and in addition my werewolf senses pick up visitors with both hearing and scent! I am as skilled with a rapier as the best of them and I have trained to be an agent since I was old enough to do so! I have left everything I know, I have nowhere to sleep or go tonight! You should at least have the decency to speak to me!" she yells, flailing her arms as tears pour down her face.

Saying it out loud makes it feel even more real to her, and the reality of her situation finally sinks in as she crumbles to the floor, still clutching the torn-out ad for the agency in her hand.
"I came all the way to this stupid city, and no one will listen to me!" she continues, wiping at her eyes.
"Why are you crying?" Wednesday asks her.
"Because I am upset!" Enid wails, Eugene shooting Wednesday a scandalized look.