Trigger warning: self-harm.
Y/ns pov:
The smoke is thick in my throat, I try to cough, but I'm strangled by the iron collar there's burning around my sore neck.
I look out into the crowd there's shouting and already celebrating my death, but they have no idea what's coming for them and if it wasn't for the iron blade resting on my tongue I would gladly tell them to run.
The man in front of me pulls me towards the stake, but I stumble and try to take off with my hands, but they're tightly tied close to my body so my knees takes the fall. I hear chuckles from the crowd, but when I stand up with tears in the eyes it is not because of shyness, but guilt.
I feel someone push me forward and I take a few quick steps and get closer to the stake, then a few steps up and I stand face to wood with the stake, this is the fifth. I don't know what makes these men believe in the fact that they can kill me, but their friends couldn't.
"Any last words, witch?" the man spits the last word out of his mouth like it was poison, I nod, but he couldn't care less I was after all in his eyes just an untamed animal.
The man turns me around ties me to the stake, I'm facing the crowd, but no one really looks at me, at least I don't think so until I catch the eyes of a small boy. His red hair is burning alive on his head, freckles covers his face and a pair of green eyes light up.
Tears appear in my eyes and I try to guide the boy away, I try to point away from the crowd with my head. He understands.
"Daddy" he says and shake the arm of a tall man standing with a smirk on his face, "we have to go daddy" the boy cries.
The redhead looks back me and see the tears in my eyes he understands, run boy, run!
"William, stop. There is no danger here, look" a tear slides down my cheek as the man lifts the boy up in his arms. I want to scream at him, tell him to let the boy go, but I can't, I simply can't.
A man with a torch walks up on the platform, a grin plastered across his face. I shake my head wildly and tears escape my eyes, I try to break free, but I can't, not yet.
"Please" I try to say, but the word is swallowed by a silent sound of someone choking. me.
"You end has finally arrived, witch, such pity you don't die as proud as your fellow pests" he says and starts the fire.
Oh how I wish I would die, how I wish I didn't have to lose control, but I can already feel the white light leaving my fingertips, I can already feel my body choking the fire, I can already hear the silence after the crowd is dead.
"Daddy, please" the young boy William cries, but it is too late.
Power rushes through my body. It burns from my chest to my arms and leave my fingertips. Like a wind cutting through the air my powers pushes through everything around me. My powers make the iron chain and blade crumble.
Coughing the iron out of my mouth I fall to the ground with not as much as a bird whistling in my ear, the square is stone dead.
With glassy eyes I look up. White faces and bodies lay around on the ground and one still with burning red hair and shining green eyes, a handsome man he would've become.
Agathas pov:
With a sob I fly out of my bed sweaty from the nightmare that so clearly did not belong to me, but the person I can't get off my mind.
My hands are shaking when I reach for the glass of water on the nightstand. Drowning the water I shake my body, but the nightmare was so alive, so real, but Y/n can't possibly be this old? She doesn't look a day over twenty-five.
I get dressed rather quickly determined to visit the woman across the street once again, but a knock on my door stops all of my ongoing thoughts and leaves just one: urgh, Wanda.
With a fake smile plastered across my face I open the door, "Hi W- Y/n?"
Y/ns pov:
Tears run down my face in rivulets, scorching hot against my cheeks as I pull my blanket aside jerking out of bed. The memories are burning hot in my brain and it takes everything in me to contain my powers.
Poor William and his promising future as a handsome and smart man.
I let out a cry as my powers maintain their usual hook in me, the burning sensation of having lost and killed overtakes me and I quickly go for the bathroom down the hall. My magic doesn't have a stop button, it's powerful, but it does not come with ease, it hurts and tears me apart from the inside.
My sweat and tears are warm as boiling water, the pain pulls me down and I end up crawling to the door.
When I get there I raise a weak arm up in the air and push down the doorknob. The door squeaks open and I waist no time trying to turn on the light.
I heave myself to a standing position over the sink and open the mirror cabinet where my knife lays, the blade especially bought for when I have my nightmares.
I grab the knife and drop to the floor again out of breath from pulling myself up, without as much as a second thought I let the blade slide over my palms. Red liquid trickles down and land on the white floor, but I begin my chanting before I can start worrying about my fine floor.
As the words of a foreign language slowly makes their way out of my mouth I feel my nightmare dissappear from my thoughts and gets replaced by sadness and hopelessness.
I keep repeating the words until I feel my tears cold in my face and shivers run down my spine. First then I allow my mouth to close shut and look at my bloody hands. My powers are once again slightly under control.
I wash my hands and clean the floor, but new red spots keeps appearing and I realize my self-healing magic hasn't kicked in yet, is this my powers repaying me?
I sigh and open the cabinet again, but to my big horror I realize I don't have any bandage since I usually don't need it.
Panic rushed through me by the thought of having to go buy some in the supermarket, I'll be leaving a blood trail after me and in worse scenario someone will call for an ambulance.
A sob escape my lips in the same moment I get an idea, a stupid and vulnerable one, but better than going into town.
Jogging downstairs I slip into a pair of shoes and open my front door with my elbows as I do not trust my own powers. I'll have to leave my house unlocked since my hands are already covered in blood, how long till I have to think about too much bloodlose?
The door slams behind me and I quickly cross the road after watching out for any traffic, but there is none.
Running to the front door I knocked hoping not to wake her up, what if she's still sleeping?
I hear footsteps and decide that no one can be this quickly after just having woken up.
With a fake smile plastered across her face Agnes opens the door, "Hi W- Y/n?" her mood drops from fake joy to seriously caring.
"What happened?" she asks as soon as she notice my hands, I come up with the excuse that I was cutting cucumber - very early and very badly apologized - and accidentally cut myself.. In both palms.
Agnes doesn't buy it, but quickly pulls me inside telling me to take a seat on one of the kitchen chairs while she rush through all of her drawers.
She's a lot more worried than I am, I take my times to look at her kitchen that looks a lot like mine, but the houses were probably built at the same time with the same designer.
"I'm sorry for bothering you, I didn't know I was out of bandage" I say not daring to meet her eyes as she approaches me with both bandages and what I can only guess is some sort of cleansing liquid. I squint at it and the brunette notice.
"Don't worry, Y/n, it'll only sting a little and then it's over" she says calmly and carefully grab one of my hands. Her fingers a soft against the back of my hand, but I can barely think about anything but the coming pain and if my powers will react.
"Ready?" the woman asks softly and I can't help, but to look at her through my messy hair there's covering most of my view, I nod.
It stings and not a little, it stings enough for me to let a tear slide down my cheek and form my hand to a fist only for it to be pulled open by a pair of strong hands.
A gentle shushing reach my ear at the same time a soft finger wipe away the tear on my cheek, "Good girl" Agnes says calmly making sure I keep my hand open.
"You okay?" she asks after a while and I can only nod, at least my powers didn't act up, I was just being a baby about this small pain in the palm of my hand.
"You don't talk much, do you doll?" I blush by the nickname while I shake my head no, I'll prefer thinking over talking any time.
Agnes strokes a strain of hair behind my ear and slide a finger under my chin tilting my head gently, "I have to do it one more time and then it's over, okay?"
I nod and swallow, I move my gaze to rest on our hands while I still feel Agnes' eyes are on me, she clearly wants to say something but instead lower her eyes to my hand.
This time I don't form my hand to a fist though Agnes has her fingers ready to loosen it if I did. I don't let a tear slip through my eyelids either, I simply watch the woman clean my palm and thereafter wrapping soft bandage around them both.
"You're not bothering me" Agnes says after letting her thumbs slide over her fine work, "but please be careful the next time you do- whatever you did" I look up and nod hastily, the next time I'll make sure I have my own bandage.
"Thank you" I say and let my own fingers slide over the soft fabric.
"Y/n?" Agnes says with tenderness in her voice.
"Yeah?" there's worry in mine.
"Who are you?"
___________________________________
Sorry for leave you with a
cliffhanger, but I felt evil today :))
I'll publish the next chapter soon.
Stay cukoo for Agatha Harkness
-M