Fire and Smoke - Wanda Maximoff x Reader

Chapter 48

It feels like the van keeps going for hours. It probably does, but there is absolutely no way for me to tell time from inside the steel contraption. After a while of just lying there, my mind has begun to wander freely on its own, my imagination keeping me busy while my body complains angrily at every jolt I feel and every bump on the road. My mouth is parched, and I need to pee. Having nothing to keep me occupied with, having to pee is all I can think of, and I doubt I've ever been thirstier. I vow to never again take a cold glass of water for granted. Come to think of it, I feel slightly chilly, my skin is covered with cold sweat, so a nice cup of tea would hit just right. All those times I had a teacup in my hands and didn't finish it... most of those can be attributed to Wanda being there.

The cold from the floor of the van creeps through me, chilling me all the way to my bones. I doubt I could ever properly warm up again. If only I had some of Wanda's scarlet to borrow; that would surely feel like fire in my veins, keeping me nice and toasty. I've been fiddling with the rope trying my wrists together, but it's been fastened immaculately and however much I fiddle with it, it doesn't budge even the slightest. All I manage to do is irritate the skin underneath the rope, and now it won't stop burning.

So, all in all, I feel fabulous! I'm cold, clammy, every muscle in my body aches, I am parched and my throat feels like it's covered in sand, I also need to pee so badly the next time the van jolts might be the time I wet myself, and my wrists burn and my shoulders ache, and I cannot see a thing, and I feel incredibly car sick. But I don't like to complain.

Thankfully, my slow and incredibly frustrating torture doesn't last forever. The van eventually slows doesn't and comes to a halt. It feels weird, lying there in stillness without the rocking motions of the van and the slight shaking the engine created. Even the absence of the sounds of the road and the other cars is eery. I hear two doors slam and the floor shakes slightly. A little while later the doors open and I need to shut my eyes tightly, being blinded by the sudden bright light streaming into the van. A rough pair of hands grab my ankles and pull me out of the van. I try to open my eyes but the buggers just keep watering. Someone holds me upright from both sides, their hands big and strong.

"Let's go, bring her in." I hear a familiar voice say. It's the black-haired man from the park.

"You don't tell us what to do, soldat." A rough voice growls on my right, his words laced with a thick accent which a place as Russian.

"I just did." The black-haired man replies, his voice calm and smooth compared to the man on my right.

The man grunts and unceremoniously yanks me forward, caring as much for me as for a bag filled with trash his boss has asked him to take out. My arms scream in protest and I keep in a pained grunt, not wanting them to know how much they're hurting me. The blinding light pushing against my closed eyelids softens slightly and I dare try to open my eyes again.

I'm being led down a corridor of some sort. The walls are a dull grey color and harsh lights are fixed on the ceiling at even distances, their fluorescent light bathing the corridors in a horrible eery shine. The dark-haired man is leading the way, confidently walking down the hall, obviously familiar with his surroundings. There is a man on either side of me holding me up by my arms. They're both so massive in size they easily dwarf the black-haired man, and the way they're holding me up so easily tells me they've definitely been hired for their strength. My feet barely even graze the floor.

I try to keep track of the way they're leading me in, but soon my head is pounding hard again and I've lost track of the number of plain doors we've passed and the numbers of corners we've rounded. It feels like they're leading me deeper and deeper into a maze of corridors that all look the same. Just when I think I must have entered some simulation in which I just keep being dragged around forever and ever, the dark-haired man stops in front of a door next to a big glass window. The two men come to a halt behind him as he unlocks the door. He has to use three different keys, but eventually, he unlocks the door and steps aside to let us in first. The two men step inside with some difficulty due to their size, but when we make it in they toss me forwards and I'm so taken aback I crumple to the ground like I'm a marionette whose strings have been cut. My knees slam painfully down onto the cold cement floor and I'm not able to stop my fall with my hands as they're tied behind my back, so I just keep falling.