All For Fun | Jenna Ortega Imagines

The Raven's Eye (w.a)

It was nightfall.

You pulled the last bit of your cigarette, allowing the nicotine to calm your nerves while you stared at a your next adventure. You were across the street, eyes fixed on an apartment building in the city of New York. The occupant would tell you if your suspicions were right about the person you've been married to for the past three years.

For a few months, you've had someone keep an eye on your wife after suspecting that she's having an affair with one of her coworkers. Extremely wild to not do the digging yourself, sure, but you had your reasons. You were a busy person who could multitask but your brain wouldn't allow you to get too wrapped up in your wife's "work," so you gave that responsibility to someone else to minimize your wife changing her style of cheating and keep the suspicions you had secret. Like a scorpion, you would sting when ready.

Your marriage had become touch-less, kiss-less, and more upsetting for you, loveless; all of which was proof in your mind of cheating. However, you needed something tangible to slam divorce papers in her face, and to get out this would-be expensive divorce.

...And seek your revenge, as in the state of New York, a cheating spouse can be put behind bars, and because your wife was famous — you could slander her career.

You exhaled the smoke, tossing the butt onto the ground. You reached into your blazer, retrieving a business card. You read the small card one final time:

The Raven's Eye
————-
Wednesday Addams,
Private Investigator

You returned your sight to the building, mumbling to yourself, "Show me something good, Miss Wednesday Addams."

A car passed along the lonely, wet street before you crossed, stepping through a puddle or two. You reached the curb of the apartment building, making your way inside.

You buttoned your blazer while your eyes roamed the dark lobby, your lip raising in disgust at the presentation. You hesitantly tapped the cobb-webbed bell on the desk, hoping to get some assistance.

You waited, eyeballing the floor, but then a spider crawled across your foot, causing you to kick it off, and laughing ensued.

You looked to the desk, spotting an unusually tall man who had a face only a mother could love; this guy was either cosplaying Frankenstein or was Frankenstein, no in-between.

You squinted reading his name tag, Lurch. An eerie name for an eerie guy, you supposed. You cleared your throat, you spoke, "I'm here for Miss Addams, the address on her business card led me here."

You showed Lurch the business card, and he groaned. Your eyes shifted left to right, you furrowed your brows, "Huh?"

Lurch groaned again.

You opened your mouth to speak, but another man spoke, "I told you to leave Wednesday's clients alone, Lurch. I'm on desk duty."

Lurch looked in the direction of the man groaning an explanation, and the man rolled his eyes, "I know you want to help, but your job is to greet and clean. Wednesday's order, not mine."

You rose a brow while Lurch groaned again; you had not a single clue how they were communicating, but you didn't question it. This wasn't the weirdest thing on this planet by a long shot. The tall man moved away from the desk, gathering a broom from the wall.