Possible & The Witch

A Witch In Captivity Pt.1

Sorry for the wait- mental health not doing great.

TW- Torture.

Wanda's Pov:

I can feel my mind begin to wake up before my body does. Like the sensation of opening your eyes when your room is still dark. You know something is off. You just can't quite figure out what.

And without the feeling of my skin I can only taste the change in my environment.

It tastes like stone.

It tastes like blood.

It tastes like a cell.

Again...

Suddenly my only thought-

"Pietro?"

I question the air. My brother suddenly walking into my mind.

Metaphorically- unfortunately.

I do so want to believe I am currently strong enough to open my mouth and ask for him truly. But deep down I know his name only made it as far as the boundaries to my skull.

The last time the wall smelled this much like hell... at least he was on the other side of it.

At least I wasn't alone.

But if he were here. I would feel him.

And I don't.

I don't feel Y/N either.

So even as my fingers slowly gain life, and my muscles suddenly twitch into a minutely controllable spectrum... the less I want to open my eyes.

I am cold.

Everything is cold.

Stinging cold. Like metal in ice.

Detached, unloving, and most definitely not home.

Because at home I am never cold.

Y/N never lets me be cold. They would give me every inch of their warmth to see that I am comfortable. To see me smile. To feel our love.

If I were home I would feel their arms around me. Or would be looking forward to them coming home from a mission. Their hands would rub my back and softly touch the small bit of my stomach that gives evidence of our daughter.

If I were home. I wouldn't be in pain.

Yet as I give myself moments to adjust into consciousness... my ears ring... and my wrists ache.

I finally force my eyes to open into the loneliness.

I am greeted by a blurred view of a small room. No bigger than a large closet. Enough for a twin size stone bed. A brick standing shower and toilet. A door locked from the outside with rusted hinges. And a large mirror in front of me.

I try to sit up but it takes multiple tries and long blinks to stabilize my view into one image. When I am able to sit up I am not allowed completely upright. Something on my wrists scraping against the stone block and pulling my hands back like a dog on a leash.

I groan twisting my muscles around before focusing on my hands. I pick them up close to my face and finally understand.

Chains.

I am chained.

Like an animal.

My vision is finally under my control and I look at the room again. I touch the wall over and over until I realize... this is real.

"No- no- no..."

I yank on my chains to try and break them with my power but all I feel is pain. They won't work. They won't even spark. There is something denying them, strangling them down into the depths of me without the chance of release.