floor boards creak under wanda's feet as she moves her boots across the cell.
she's been there for weeks, waiting to be tried for the witch trials.
she told stories. she lived. she danced.
that was enough for the people of salem to say she was a witch.
so, she sit on the floor of the dirty cells, hands chained, wondering how she got here.
she doesn't know. she doesn't know what to think anymore.
is this her punishment?
is this what she truly deserves?
does she deserve to be executed just because she lived her life?
that's what they thought.
the people of salem.
no one she knew were here.
no family, no kids, nothing.
erik had left her, saying she would be safe and, 'taken care of'.
pietro didn't glance at her as she was torn away from her family.
she was only 17.
what did she do to deserve this?
she didn't betray anyone; she didn't do anything.
all she did was exist.
and that was why she should be there.
she was a witch; her chaos magic being veins and running through her body at that point, ready to burst and hurt anyone close to her.
she could escape.
she could leave.
she could change herself.
but she didn't.
because she deserved this.
she was a burden to her family; with these powers that couldn't be controlled, her mother leaving her to go somewhere, leaving her with the name, 'harbinger of chaos', and that her time would come where she could be with her mother and not with erik and pietro.
they didn't care about her, easy as that.
she knew that and so did they.
she didn't deserve to live; she deserved to be burned at the stake, hanged, any way to kill her.
because she was a witch.
she was.
she could've easily broken out, her chaos magic could've easily changed the whole town, yet she didn't.
this was all her fault.
the x-men were a mess.
she didn't want to hurt them.
none of them.
nor did she want to hurt any of the avengers.
this was her fault.
and she was paying the price.
death.