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Chapter 1 – The Seventy-Fifth Night
Chapter 1 – The Seventy-Fifth Night
Written by: Camila (@infernareina on X)
Written by: Camila (@infernareina on X)
I miss you. If you were still here, with me, I know you'd tell me it's past time to move on. To get over it. It's been years since I lost you. You're gone and I've been deprived of living alongside you. But I can't. I just can't imagine my life without you. Without both of us being together. Especially with everything changing so much. I know my intuition has never meant anything good, but it's driving me crazy. Ever since I arrived in Leipzig, things have been strange. Too calm. And too quiet. Simon keeps me company most days. He says we're friends, but friends shouldn't make me feel like I'm being watched, should they?He takes me shopping and out for nice meals, but always at quiet times. He doesn't seem to want me to see too many people. The Baron says it's all right. He says there's no reason for me to be afraid of anything or anyone. And that what happened at the orphanage won't happen again. But how can he guarantee me that? He doesn't even know what happened. To be honest, neither do I. My memories remain so foggy. As I don't remember you there. But I remember the others. And the director. Then I remember feeling so much pain. So much power. Everything is so confusing, brother. I miss you so much, Pietro.Of you braiding my hair while I sleep.Our impromptu cholent recipe.Your presence. Love, Wanda.
[ᱬ] - How are you, Wanda? While keeping her arms crossed and a blank expression, Wanda only wished that this was enough to spare her of the necessity of an answer. She bit the corner of her thumbnail while thinking about it, an ordinary gesture that was no more than automatic. - I'm fine. The doctor sighs, causing her glasses to cloud over for a quick moment. She takes them off her face and puts them over the table.- Are you? - asks the woman with a shiny blonde hair. Her blue and spooky eyes were fixed on her patient, but Wanda frowns: for a brief moment, they seemed to flicker, as if they were affected by the light in a... strange way. But then she blinks. She was just daydreaming. - Yup.
She wriggled in her seat, crossing and uncrossing her legs rapidly, as her body wanted desperately to get out of there. The psychiatrist seems to lose her patience for a bit and starts tapping her nails on the metal table with more incidence. - And how have you been sleeping? Wanda bites the inner corner of her right cheek and then crosses her arms again. - Normally. The doctor smiles with a certain tone of mockery. She doesn't believe Wanda at all. - This is your seventy-fourth night with us, Wanda. And since you've been here, you assured to fill each one of these nights with hysterical screams and rather peculiar moments, if you know what I mean. Wanda smiles back, with the same sneer as the doctor. - Nightmares are usual. I've read that people who go through some intense experiences often dream about situations that are just as intense. - And you're right, but nightmares can also represent your surpressed memories. They're keys to achive even more intense and traumatic moments. The ones that you may have forgotten. Maximoff's eyes squint, while her frown deepens. - If I've forgotten something that’s really bad, then why should I try to remember it again? Isn't it easier to just live my life normally? I mean, that's what Zemo promised me when he offered me shelter. - And do you remember what you promised in return? Wanda says nothing, but the bitter taste in her mouth was so hard that the doctor certainly noticed the suddenly blush in her naturally tanned cheeks. - Of course you do. - She smiles, somewhat cynically. - You promised to help the Baron with his studies. And to cooperate in any way you could. And I'm sorry to say, dear, but right now you're not cooperating at all. Before Wanda could even answer it, she rolled her eyes and sank further into the cold chair. - Let's start again, shall we? - For the third time in a row, the good doctor continued without any truthful answer from Mrs. Maximoff. She straightened her crooked identity tag – Dr. Karla Sofen - as she loosened her dense blonde hair from its tight bun. She was beautiful, but she also seemed cruel. As the strands fell, Wanda had the strange feeling that the gesture was more intentional than necessary, as if it were part of a rehearsed act.- How are you?- Exhausted.She smiles. Wanda wants to punch her.
- I'm sorry for that, my dear, but don't worry, I'm here to help you. - She took a few notes from the notebook she brought with her and then turned to face Wanda. - Let's talk about your adaptation here, shall we? Our collaborators described you as, should I read it? I think so. “antisocial, suspicious and with tendencies to dissociate from reality”. – She then stared at the set of files next to her notebook, reading each word with a heavily unnecessary dramatic intonation. - “Deeply disturbed and traumatized by the events at the orphanage. Poor sleeping habits. Nightmares about her imaginary twin brother. While whispers some unfamiliar names, as Elia and Hadou, in her sleep.” The last words seemed to physically wound Wanda, who retreated into her own embrace with her eyes closed. She was trying to escape from a waking nightmare.
The doctor kept her gaze on her patient. She was waiting for an answer. - I don't know much more than you, doctor. - After a sigh, she deepens in her brunette curls while opening her big maroon eyes and shrugged. - These names... these disconnected moments... are the only things I still have from that place. - What about your brother? The so-called Pietro? “The so-called Pietro”. Wanda clenches her right fist so tightly that she feels the inside of her hand throbbing at the touch of her nails. - The fact that you don't know anything about him doesn't necessarily mean that he doesn't exist. - She replies in a low but firm tone of voice. - I'm sure of few things in my life, Doctor. Very few. And that really bothers me, as you've probably already realized. - She maintains eye contact, letting her irritation grow. - But Pietro? My brother? The person who just came into this world with me… he’s one of the few certainties in my life. And that will never change. The blonde nods, as she takes something else to write down in her notebook.
- Apart from our collaborators, I've noticed that you've started to grow a close relationship with our other resident, Mr. Williams. Have you two been getting on well? Before Wanda, Simon was the Baron's only “guest”. The Young Hollywood star became a rather dangerous superhuman after a rather freak accident, and Zemo provided him help to master his new abilities. He was a little older than Wanda, but he was so gentle that sometimes sounded a little childish. He was too naive by his own goodness. Wanda tried to keep an open mind. She strove to be at least a little nicer. Even though she didn't trust Zemo and hated how Simon spoke of him as if he were some immaculate saint, she couldn't see any malice in those shiny purple eyes.
He's good company. - Maximoff's eyes dropped to the floor, but her countenance relaxed for the first time. As she spoke, her fingers played absent-mindedly with the sleeve of her old sweatshirt, rolling it up and then unrolling it. - He's kind and he also makes me laugh. And last week, he took me to the mall for the first time. It was nice. The blonde woman listened attentively. She had even stopped taking notes. For the first time, she was content with just a smile. She seemed satisfied. - “You intrigue me, Miss Maximoff,” she said. She closed her notebook and, without looking away, added: “Way more than you think.” Wanda frowned. She even looked a little offended, but didn't say anything. - Let's call it a day. [ᱬ]
Pietro. Running through those dark, cold corridors. Through that horrible place. The gray walls. The slippery floor. So many rooms. So many doors. Pietro went through each one. He seemed to be looking for something. Or someone? He was restless. He was trembling. He kept looking over his shoulder. - Wanda? - He raised his voice to the darkness of what was left of the orphanage. And no one answered. Pietro sighed. He seemed about to jump to the next door, until something stopped him. Or maybe someone? - Wanda. The name is repeated by a mouthless voice. No timbre. And no soul. The platinum-haired boy's clear eyes widen. He runs faster. - Wanda? The question is asked with a certain tone of mockery. As if those walls could now speak and chose to mock Pietro, who kept running. - Wanda! He won't stop. He can't. He's almost caught. He's almost...
[ᱬ] - BEWARE!The scream escaped before she could stop herself. She gasped. Her trembling hands didn't seem to obey her. She looked around with her glazed reddish eyes, but found nothing that could offer her relief. Nothing in that room belonged to her. The walls were too adorned, the furniture too cold and expensive, and the clothes seemed to have been chosen for someone else. Nothing there belonged to her, absolutely nothing. Nothing there was familiar. And nothing brought her comfort. She stood up, brushing away the hair stuck to her sweaty face with irritation, and walked to the bathroom, which was as impersonal as the rest of the room. Halfway there, however, she stopped. She stopped and wondered. In fact, she saw it. Was the reflection in the mirror as unfamiliar as everything else? - Why you can’t be here? Sitting by her window, she hugged herself. It was the only hug she still had - and she was already sick of it. She sighed deeply and looked out at the city that pulsed beneath the tower of Zemo’s Castle. What she didn't know, however, was that in the darkness shadow below the window, far beyond the misty reflection in the glass, two eyes were still watching her.
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