Scarlett War

CHAPTER SIX - S.O.E

Wanda Maximoff - Private

It's been almost a month since Marigny.

My wound was nothing but a pink scar, now. It wasn't puffy anymore, and there was barely any sign that I could've bled out a month ago.

Though nothing too exciting had happened to the entirety of our platoon, there was something happening to me.

The voice had taken a different approach to get me to succumb to him; and, I did.

He would tell me that I could help my platoon, help the war effort. Plow through Nazi's quicker and eventually destroy armory.

Although, from time to time, he would mutter something incomprehensible, with malice in his voice. I brushed it off as my own conscience trying to rid of the parasite.

And so, when no one was looking, I held out my hand and let it free.

I was getting surprisingly ok at it, still trying to understand how exactly to pull it out of me, and how to make sure it didn't when I wanted it not to. The best I could do was just think, and it happened.

I no longer had to put much effort into creating a spark; it all came with a single tiny, almost mute, though. It was like walking or breathing; your body only did it when you needed it, and you did not have to think of the mechanics behind it.

But then, a day ago, the voice stopped altogether. I guess it was because I didn't need it much anymore, or it was a figment of my imagination, my subconscious wanted to get rid of the fear.

Pierson definitely noticed that something was up. Like I said before, nothing slipped under him without him noticing. He stared at me more often than before, always watching for another slip-up.

I thought with the voice gone, there would be no headaches. I was completely wrong. They didn't change at all, coming every hour or so and lasting less than a minute.

I just hoped it would go away, seeing as they didn't last very long, and there was no more voice to accompany it.

There were successes in my failures. The man in my head had whispered to me once, a week or so ago, that I could lift things with any weight up.

That enticed me more than anything. Large and heavy loads? Armor? Zussman? The possibilities seemed endless, though I still couldn't show anyone.

So, I had snuck off, quickly set my sights on a large white rock. I put a single hand out, thinking that was all I needed.

"Cmon," I thought, urging myself, "just don't think about it."

As planned, the red energy came out, extremely quick, enveloping around the target. The ground underneath shifted when I raised my hand upwards, hoping what I was doing was right.

And, it was. Slowly but surely, the boulder came out of the ground, floating in the air weightlessly. I felt nothing, no added weight. It was nothing, now.

When I snuck back, Pierson instantly locked eyes on me. He must've noticed my disappearance, and I groaned silently, knowing the questioning was about to begin.

"Where the hell were you? You're supposed to be patrolling with Stiles." He wasn't yelling, but his voice was raised as he closed in on me.

"Just heading to him, sir."

He moved towards me threateningly, yet I just felt annoyed at his interest. "I can always tell when a Private is lying, Maximoff."

"Tell me," the words slipped through my mouth before I decided whether to say them or not, "what do I have to gain from lying?"