There was a new recent murderer on the loose in the streets of Wednesday's house. A killer that had a particular taste in young girls that were harmless and he was probably a pedophile. She didn't care that much about that, until she heard about the news that you dissapeared. Her sweet, sweet girlfriend that is as weak as a little flower. Her focus now was on finding you. She ordered thing to sneak through police stations to get files about the other dissapearences of girls. She got a good lead when she found out that the killer was stupid enough to not cover his license plate after he drugged you and placed your unconcious, helpless body in the trunk.

After she managed to discover the killer's adress. She wasted no time...she didn't go to the police, she would rather gut that killer with her own knife for him even touching you. She snuck into his house and got into the...very doll realistic room. She was so silent that the old man didn't even notice her, no, his dirty and lustfull mind was just stuck on you, who was tied to the chair and sat at the table with the dolls. God, Wednesday felt her blood boiling after she heard his perverted little nicknames to you while he placed a doll that looked exactly like you on the table.

Well, long story short. She was so furious that she managed to push the man to the shelves full of dolls before grabbing his knife and slicing every inch of his body. When she turned back to you, she noticed that you were passed out, probably from the stress of it all. Poor flower, so fragile that you would go into unconciousness so you wouldn't get a panick attack. Wednesday just untied you and gently picked you up, holding you close to her chest.

After she got in her room, she layed you on the bed and immediately undressed you, looking over the harsh hickies and wounds the man had left on your soft and vulnerable body that was supposed to be hers. She gently kissed each of the wounds and hickies, wanting to make sure you wouldn't think of that man's actions again. And she knew it worked when she looked up and saw you subconciously smiling in your unconciousness. Enjoying the comfort of your girlfriend.

And she dressed you into a dark green silk pyjama (she only has it for you, because she likes to smell it when you wore it, she always loves your smell) and tucked you into her covers. Turning away from the bed as she placed the doll (yeah, the doll that that man made of you), on her desk and just observed the dolls features, looking between the plastic thing and your sleeping frame. Thing, the loyal hand he was, he checked up on you every 10 minutes, checking to see if you were still okay, which Wednesday was grateful for.

When she stopped admiring the doll, standing infront of her board full of files from the now dead killer's victims, she looked over her shoulder, looking at your sleeping frame, just tucked under her sheets like you were an angel that Wednesday was assigned to protect. She continuously played with her necklace, her emotionless eyes almost softening at the sight of you.