Fractured {Wanda Maximoff}

Prologue

There was something in the air. It wasn't magic, but it was something just as potent.

There had been no initial connection between this feeling and the body count. Not until Wanda Maximoff put the pieces together in her mind. No normal person could put the clues together like she had. To most, they'd assume a serial killer hit their city. Well, perhaps that was true, but they could never understand how the killer was doing it.

Wanda let others' thoughts around her in. They all spoke in one loud cacophony that threatened to make her brain burst out of her skull. Surely if the killer was around, she was bound to hear their thoughts at some point, unless, of course, they'd already skipped town.

Wanda didn't want to turn this person in. She didn't fear this faceless killer, either. In fact, she was enthralled by them. Intrigued. More than anything, she wanted a face to this killing spree.

Not again. Damn it, not again.

Wanda shook her brunette head. That voice was panicked, not the voice of a killer. This killer knew what they were doing. She knew they were enhanced. Perhaps another HYDRA experiment?

I need to leave, again. I gotta disappear.

Again, Wanda ignored the voice. It wasn't worth her time.

Yet...

The feeling in the air grew, through her magic, she could sense it. Wary, but encouraged, Wanda followed the invisible trail.

Why was I cursed? Why me? What did I do to get punished?

The voice in Wanda's head grew louder now. And, really, all other chatter became muted, except for this one voice. Wanda had to believe that there was a reason she heard this woman's voice, and hers only.

Perhaps she is a lead, Wanda mused to herself. Perhaps she is a captive. Her intention was to not save anyone, the last time she had tried...her twin brother paid for it with his life. She refused to help anyone, not that she had anyone left to lose.

The air grew grimmer, Wanda knew she was on the right track. She opened her mind more. She found herself before an apartment complex. Just as she was about to knock on the door, it opened, and a woman stumbled out. Wanda was taken aback.

The woman's ears, eyes, and mouth were streaming out blood. Black veins crawled on her pale skin, like she'd contracted an infectious disease. Instead of speaking, she gurgled, and Wanda cringed at the loud, wet sound her throat full of blood made. The woman grabbed Wanda, her hazel eyes pleading.

With one last wet breath, the woman collapsed at Wanda Maximoff's feet.

This must be the place. Wanda glanced at where the woman had grabbed hold of her. Knowing that what she had had was not contagious by contact (thank God), swallowing, Wanda stepped past the bloody, dead woman, and headed inside.

Wanda began to notice a pattern. Anyone she came across was already dead. Their mouths red and wet with their own blood. Black veins took over the body canvases. The wary feeling the witch had was now leveling up to worry, possibly concern for her own safety. Is this some sort of plague? A weapon?

All I wanted to do was live. All I wanted to do was belong.

There it was again, the voice. And it was louder than ever in Wanda's mind.

Wanda found herself before an open door. Inside, the apartment was trashed, the aftermath of a break-in. She stepped in carefully, trying to not further taint the crime scene. She came across a body, ski-mask concealing his identity. With a flick of magic, Wanda removed the mask.

The man suffered the same fatal fate as others before him: choking on his own blood, infected with the black claws upon his skin.

Quiet sobbing made the witch go into defense mode. Her eyes glowed red, she had a hex at the ready. She snuck around the back of the couch to find a girl huddled into a ball behind it. She stared at a fixed point on the floor with green eyes. Her raven hair, with navy streaks throughout the curls, acted as blinders.

For a time, she didn't realize Wanda was standing there—until she pulled herself out of her head. She jumped, pressing herself further back into the couch. Wanda could feel the air blanketing the girl. It was tenfold what she had felt outside of the apartment complex.

This girl, this girl right in front of her, had power. She had the ability, Wanda guessed, to kill people, to make them suffer cruelly.

A wicked smile touched the witch's lips. I planned on going solo, but she will be a fine asset.