The Prophecy

Rubix

"We've probably been here for like 4 days now, do you feel tired at all?" Rebeka asked me.

I shook my head and looked over at her, "not at all actually."

She hummed and nodded, "me either ... when we get home, what are you going to do about Wanda and Natasha?"

I exhaled shakily and shook my head again, "I honestly have no idea, I knew Wanda would be pissed off but not like that ... I've never seen her like that before."

Rebeka hummed and shrugged her shoulders, "imagine you were her and you'd seen her in bed with someone else, your mind would go there too."

"I suppose," I admitted quietly, "it's frustrating because now I have to build a trust with both of them again even though I didn't do anything intrinsically evil."

Rebeka nudged my arm and gave me a small smile, "first world problems, hey?"

I laughed out my nose and nodded back to her, "we're on THE witches road and we're still talking about our relationships."

"Got to pass the time somehow," she nodded, "the next trials got to be coming up."

"Yeah you could say that," I replied as I stopped walking and looked ahead at the old shed at the end of the path.

Beka stopped when I did and moved her eyes from me to the shed also, her brows furrowing.

"That is a shed, isn't it?" she checked.

"I think so," I nodded slowly, pulling a small hand held knife out of my sleeve and walking ahead to push open the door.

"What do you thinks inside?" she whispered.

"I have no idea," I sighed, turning the handle of the door and watching it fall open before stepping inside into what looked like the set of a 1980's horror movie hang out spot.

"Have you ever seen cabin in the woods?" Beka muttered as I hummed a no, "yeah this isn't good."

"Perfect," I sighed, turning around as she shut the door and leaned back against it.

Her hair, still blonde, was pulled into a half up style with a small fringe on her forehead, a scrunchie holding her locks together as she lived in a large sleep shirt and fluffy socks. Looking down at herself and furrowing her brows, I turned and caught sight of myself in the reflection of a mirror. I was also dressed in sleep clothes but mine were a matching pink frilly shorts and tank top, my hair had been teased into a messy bun at the top of my head, my feet cold as they were bare on the old wooden floor.

"Have you noticed we're going forward in decades?" Beka observed, moving past me to look around the room.

"We are?"

"60s, 70s and this has got to be 80s or early 90s ... that's peculiar," she added, picking up a rubix cube that was solving itself in her hand.

"I hate pink," I muttered, walking around her toward a book case that housed a variety of random crap you'd collect as a child but stood front and centre were ballet shoes, blood staining the material around the toes and next to them, a thick paintbrush, "the trials know it's us that's here."

"Yeah," she whispered, still looking down at the rubix cube before it started to smoke from how fast it was moving.

As I turned around, she quickly threw it across the room and smiled innocently up at me.

"This doesn't feel like a trial," I observed.

"Yeah I agree, it's oddly quiet," she nodded, walking to the other side where a pile of board games lived.