Scarlett War

CHAPTER FOUR - STRONGHOLD

Wanda Maximoff - Private

I could hardly sleep that night.

Zussman didn't either, so we just stayed up together, mostly in comfortable silence.

I felt stranger as the hours went on. It was like something inside of me was trying to break free, trying to speak to me, but I didn't know how to listen.

I had no explanation for Aiello's cigarette and the dirt that was washed away around me. The burning sensation had been long gone, but the twitching and fidgeting were still making me jump.

In a way, I felt more powerful. Scared, sure, but it was like I was now Pierson's size and height, and had the position he did.

My senses were suddenly alive. I was aware of everything and anything, even just an old pocket watch hidden away in a corner was like a gold mine.

Sometime that night, whilst Zussman stared out the window and Daniels was sleeping on the armchair, I faced the wall and closed my eyes, trying to figure out what to do next.

He seemed distracted, probably thinking about his wound and if Pierson would keep him back.

My thoughts kept coming back to my hands. They were the only thing I could think of. I looked down at them, and they were foreign to me, brand new.

Shutting my eyes softly, I willingly let my mind go to my hands, wanting to see if lazily thinking about them would tell me why they were so intriguing.

Something told me to outstretched them, palms facing the ceiling. I did as told, hands shaking the tiniest bit.

I beckoned my mind to show or tell me what was the issue, remaining still and as calm as I could, but something else told me to keep them open.

My internal vision flashed from the picture I had of my palms, to the clearing where I was blasted off my feet. In the second I had, I saw the figure again, unable to make out any details.

Except for a strange, dark purple, glowing sensation around his hands. The same violet that invaded my mind before I fell unconscious.

The red. That is what I thought of next; the red energy that came towards me like a vine to the next tree.

I was so sure of what I saw. No matter if anyone else would believe me, but I could believe myself. It was as enticing as it was dangerous, it seemed.

"Red Energy. Red Energy. Red Energy."

A cooling sensation erupted from my palms and spread over the rest of my hands, like a stream slowly make its way into a smaller pond.

The train wreck in my head rebuilt itself into a working automotive. I felt relieved but also had a new feeling embedded in my brain. One that should've felt different, but instead, felt natural.

Like it was always meant to be this way.

My eyelids were suddenly hit with a red light, I could sense it behind the skin.

I opened them in confusion, wondering if a flare had gone off or if Zussman was doing something with light.

Coming off of my own two hands in a wispy and gentle stroke, was the red matter.

My breathing halted, and I was unable to process what was happening. I looked down to make sure that it was what I saw, and I could see that it was, indeed, forming from my own flesh.

I sat in silence, the glow bouncing off of my skin. It was beautiful, in a way, but it was not in anyway gorgeous when it was my own doing.

My mind finally caught up with my body. I let out a small yelp as I thrashed my hands around, begging for them to stop doing the magic.