𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐀𝐌𝐀𝐙𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐒𝐏𝐈𝐃𝐄𝐑-𝐌𝐀𝐍..
Not all heroes get remembered and surely not all heroes have it all; this story is about the hero who was never where she was supposed to be. Wrong place, wrong time, life gets confusing until a...
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Agatha was twirling around her kitchen. This is it, she thought to herself, at last, free to assume a true smile on her wrinkled face. Those ridges on her skin paled themselves into concrete stone and amongst the wilderness of darkness she wore for hair, white curls appeared. Yet, there was her smile, which hasn't graced reality in so long for that universe, be it truncated or a whole, tossed and lost so far away from where Agatha and her New Salem were at. I can finally win.
I'll show everyone how the blood of old Salem runs through my veins, she dared think at last at the long lost desire of revenge, and oh, that sweet hymn of her mind played a tune to the empty pit where a soul used to be for her. She was not but a vessel filled with the vile thoughts crumbs of ash that from time to time descended to paint her skeletal hands, reminding her of her sins only as much as a headless chicken could be reminded.
There were no feelings left to be felt for this Agatha Harkness.
In a world without life, her eternal prison, there was also no music; while she fooled herself in ignorance that her carnal desire for revenge was actually happiness, her body swayed to the thrills of a song she remembered, from a life so long ago, before Galactus, before the descent down this road with a certain path towards either salvation or perdition. And she sung, of prisons, because in her cycle, a prisoner could only raise another and attempt to doom as many as possible, to the same fate, crawling on their rot to climb out.
From the 60s, it played off her lips, a crooked, false rhythm of a whisper, "One pill makes you larger... One pill makes you small. And the ones that mother gives you don't do anything at all. Go ask Alice, when she's ten feet tall."
A loud click broke the tempo and Agatha, just pierced by an ache into the old spine holding her together, barely as of late, turned around with a hand on the small of her back, trying to stop the signs of old age with the bridge of an equally old palm. On the island of the kitchen, returned to a gloomed atmosphere of middling darkness, now that acts no longer had to be put on for Wendy's silly mind, the pyramid glowed steadily, all its runes complete and the puzzle assembled, armed for battle.
So Agatha's grin grew deeper. She had spread a prune color from an old lipstick over the thinness of her smile, readying it, heart full, to embrace the new life this power shall give. Humming continued, but she had forgotten most of the lyrics while she completed her revenge plan, getting ahead of herself by each step she took away from the kitchen, through the living room, with that little perfect pyramid in her hands, in front of her chest.
And I will destroy my universe, I will destroy it whole and then pay He Who Remains a visit too, she thought. When she passed the living room and reached the hallway with only a single door to sport now, she remembered her hums still knew the lyrics from about the middle of the song she used to listen, every time she wished Ebony had instead been a white rabbit, not a familiar that will get her compared to the likes of Sabrina, the Teenage Witch.
