Scarlett War

CHAPTER TWENTY FIVE - BATTLE OF THE BULGE

Wanda Maximoff - Global Destroyer

What I did last night was insane. Absolutely insane.

But I couldn't take it back. I didn't want too. I wanted to be numb.

And I guess there was a price to pay for that.

"Nice boots, College. They look new."

We were in a trench. I was sitting there perfectly fine, immune to the cold. The boys were freezing, however, shivering half to death.

Stiles was lacing up a new pair of boots, and Zussman noticed this. "Yeah," Aiello said, "poached em off some replacement. Poor kid froze to death." His voice was surprisingly stronger, which was probably because he braved through a German winter before.

"If Pierson wasn't so stingily with requisitions," his froze was barely there as he was almost blue, "I wouldn't have to steal."

"It's okay, they weren't doing the replacement any good." Daniels reassured.

"Where's that farm kid I used to know?" Zussman asked, and I could sense the worry in his voice.

"If you him, give me a holler."

I tried to convince myself what I would be doing was merciful. They were freezing. They probably wanted to die, no? They had to be suffering. They had too.

I wouldn't be killing them in vain. I'd be doing the world a favor. Ending the war and all possible future wars early.

The boys continued to freeze their asses off as I sat there blankly. "Maximoff," Stiles said, "you alright?"

I blinked myself back into reality. "I thought you froze over," he said, glasses with ice on them.

I shook my head. That was the end of the conversation. "Helluva Christmas, hey fellas?" He continued.

Aiello gave him a sideways glance. "Oh yeah. Why would I wanna be cuddled up by a nice warm fire with my girl, when I could be freezing my ass of with you bastards?"

Stiles chuckled, before looking up with wide eyes. "Oh shit, incoming."

I knew that meant Pierson. Which meant I wanted out of there as quick as possible.

I stood up with a slight adrenaline rush. I saw him look at me as I walked out of there, not wanting to face him. His eyes didn't drop until he began to bark orders.

I soon heard Zussman catching up to me. "Soviet," he stuttered out as he slowed down next to me, "what's wrong?"

I glanced back over my shoulder at the direction Pierson went, eye's narrowed. He knew instantly. "Trouble in paradise?"

I pursed my lips, speaking my first words that day. "There isn't a paradise anymore."

He blinked. Then, he turned, and swore lowly. "Don't do anything," I warned, forming more sentences as my tongue remember how to.

He knew better not to ask what happened. He gently placed a hand on my shoulder, and even I was surprised to feel how cold it was through my jacket. "You alright?"

I dodged the question as best as possible. The answer was no. I couldn't even think of the opposite word to that. "You're freezing."

"We all are." He replied shortly. We watched then as the convoy began to roll up.

Daniels, Aiello, and a new man left one of the tents. I was surprised to see that it was a black man. I hoped he didn't face anything to harsh, but I couldn't control everyone here from doing so.