Electrifying⚡️pietro maximoff((( currently on hold)))

one

-December 18, 1921 Russia-

In a small town, in a small neighborhood, citizens gathered around the house where a tragedy had just occurred. The family that once resided in the yellow-doored house had been murdered.

This was uncommon for this peculiarly small town. In fact, a murder hasn't occurred in the last 300 years, give or take a few. What made the situation even more peculiar is that the 24 year old daughter was the murderer. While her parents laid dead with marks of electricity running up and down their bodies she stood petrified in the yard, looking down in horror at her hands.

Her hair that had been charcoal black since she was born was now a electrifying blueish-green. Her fingertips cracked and sparked, had she really killed her parents with those very fingers? Even her eyes were different. The formally green orbs, were now like a storm of lightning and rain.

The neighborhood was still for awhile. Murmuring how the once sweet girl had turned into a murderer. They were shocked, to say the least. Eventually they came to their senses and started shouting at her.Screaming vile things that could make the gods cringe in hurt.

She closed her fingers into a fist and tucked the under her arms, petrified of hurting anyone else. She looked up at the crowd, now holding guns and baseball bats, and a single tear slipped down her cheek. When the cops showed up, she was gone.

She ran for her life. Her long legs kicked mud and dirt onto her Sunday dress and made the girl look homeless. Which, now, she is.

After hours of running she figured she was far enough away and she collapsed onto the ground. Rocks and twigs dug into her knees, and bugs came out of the ground to see the commotion.

Her feet bled, and her hands had marks where her nails pierced her skin. The day had been rough, one that would scar her for years to come.

She sat in the dirt for hours, the sky turning dark and the predators of Russia coming out to hunt. She didn't care though. She had nothing to live for. Nothing to fight for. She killed the only family she had left and now she was known throughout Russia as a sociopath murderer.

So, she waited. She waited for death. She didn't care how it came. If she starved, was eaten by some animal, found by police, or just dropped dead. She had no will power.

Suddenly, there was a hand placed under her chin. She squeezed her eyes shut, preparing for her existing life to drain out of her. It never did.

Her eyes slowly opened to reveal a tanned-skinned, bright eyed woman in front of her. The girl looked her over, scanning for danger. She flinched when she saw the knife attached to her thigh.

"No, no. I will not harm you small one." The woman comforted. "I'm Anastasia,"

The girl remained silent. This angered Anastasia slightly, but she bit her tongue to not frighten the girl in front of her.

"I come from a ballet school." Anastasia spoke, her tan skin shining in the moon's glow. "They are very good, and they also... train girls in other ways." Still, the girl bit her lip and stayed quiet. "I like your hair. I bet a tutu would suit you well, don't you think?"

This time the girl spoke. "I'm dangerous Anastasia."

"So am I, little one." Anastasia stroked the girls blue hair. "Would you like to come to the school? Just to try it?" The girl slowly nodded, beginning to trust the older woman. "Great! So, little one, what's your name?"

The girl looked upset, "I don't want to say it. It ties me to my parents."

The older woman's eyes softened, "Change it then. Pick wisely though. You won't get to change it again."

The girl only had one name come to her mind... "Electra. My name is Electra."