JIMMY WOO WAS MORE THAN HAPPY TO DELIVER COFFEE TO HIS NEW FRIENDS. Maybe they're not exactly friends but rather co-workers; however, Jimmy seems to spend most of his time with the two women, and he considers them acquaintances.
In a way, they're his co-worker friends, and Jimmy was okay with that. Usually, Jimmy doesn't try to get too buddy-buddy with his co-workers, but this felt different from the group in the FBI unit; Monica was determined to find other solutions to help Wanda and Eszter rather than exploit them and frame them as evil sisters. Darcy is intelligent and managed to get him inside Westview, and she was the first to crack the code. Plus, Darcy is easy to have a conversation with.
The FBI agent sped walked through S.W.O.R.D. as fast as possible without letting the coffee spill through the small holes, and he didn't want to drop hot coffee all over him. He rounded corners, turning left and right, then going through halls and passing other S.W.O.R.D. agents. Jimmy was on a time crunch, knowing he was missing a small brief meeting meant for the three of them, but Jimmy thought it would be nice to deliver everyone a cup of coffee for their time.
As he rounded the last corner, Jimmy was storming into the small room where he spotted Darcy first, sitting on the table with paper scattered all around her; Monica was giving a quick idea of what she could use that'll give her a nudge to get back inside Westview, but Darcy wasn't too keen about the idea. It sounded sketchy and definitely not safe. Monica was on the right page to the scientist, but the woman didn't realize that she had barely made it out alive. Something was itching the back of her mind, but Darcy had been holding back up until the right timing.
"What'd I miss?" Jimmy asked, setting the tray of coffee down.
"The twins aged up to ten," informed Darcy,
Jimmy's eyes widen briefly, passing the coffee to Darcy. "Holy Christmas. At this rate, they'll be empty nesters by dinner time."
Darcy jerks her head, making a face. "Yeah, Wanda wasn't happy that Eszter let the twins bring home a stray dog," she lowered her coffee, knitting her brows into a frown as she sat in thought. "It's so weird seeing Eszter in there after everything we'd seen. It's like she got into characters as soon as she got the chance."
Jimmy turned and left Monica's coffee on the table as he took his to the empty seat across Darcy, taking a small sip. "Well, maybe she thought she had to?" Jimmy frowned. "Or maybe Eszter didn't really plan on coming back when we let her in. I mean, that's her sister; I'm sure she'd do anything for her."
Darcy hums, taking a sip of her coffee.
Disassociated from their conversation, Monica felt the lightbulb over her head blink on. "I know an aerospace engineer who'd be up for this challenge," a grin slithered to her lips, feeling the success finally sparking.
Darcy, a little concerned, commented. "But I can't guarantee the Hex won't just mind-wipe you as you go in."
Monica paused from her texting, looking up at Darcy. "Wait," she furrows her brows. "What's a Hex?"
A sheepish smile tugged on her lips. "Oh, um, it's what I'm calling the anomaly because of its hexagonal shape," answered Darcy, a small ounce of pride shifted on her shoulders. "It's starting to catch on."
Monica glanced at Jimmy like she was looking if it were true, but Jimmy merely shook his head. No one's bothered to call the anomaly Hex. At that, Darcy looked a bit depleted that no one thought to use the clever name she'd come up with, but the woman knew that wasn't an issue she should be pondering about right now.
"You really wanna go back in there?" asked Darcy. "After everything she's put you through?"
Dropping her phone on the table with a quick thud, Monica sighs. "Yeah," she pursed her lips as she could see the memories play out in her mind like a movie. "Yes, I do."
Monica didn't plan to leave Wanda and Eszter in a place of vulnerability, leaving them for Hayward to deal with; the woman knew that wasn't in the plan, and she didn't want to cause either of the sisters to react poorly. Monica understands the dire situation that Hayward preaches it to be, but they don't know what she'd felt when she was in Westview. There was a sense of hopelessness that Monica couldn't look over.
Jimmy studied the screen with a photo of Billy and Tommy, still puzzled; he never was able to discover the boys' identities, no matter how many tries Jimmy had done in search of Billy and Tommy, but he found himself at a dead end.
"Have we identified these minors yet?" asked Jimmy, shuffling toward the screen, gesturing it with his coffee cup. "Or the newborns?"
"Oh, Wanda's twins are hers. Everything might look fake in the TV, but everything in there is real."
"But Wanda manipulates people's perceptions, makes them hallucinate."
"Yeah, that's her whole bag," said Darcy, flabbergasted. "If all the sets and props and wardrobe were solid matter, that would mean she's wielding an insane amount of power." She looks between Monica and Jimmy. "What does that say about Eszter?"
Jimmy and Monica shared concerned looks. Not only did they have to be worried about Wanda and the insane amount of power she holds, but a teenage girl who's still going through stuff every kid deals with. The worse part is Monica knows they're not okay, and holding that much power could spell disaster.
"Far exceeding anything they've displayed in the past," commented Jimmy.
"Uh, she could have taken out Thanos on her own if he hadn't initiated a blitz," retorted Monica. "Wanda and Eszter separate is powerful, but together, they would've been unstoppable. I mean, nobody else came close."
And it was true, in some sense; however, another woman with powers from an Infinity Stone would say otherwise. Everyone knew about the battle against Thanos and the several close calls they've had. None of the original Avengers would've beaten Thanos alone if it weren't for them.
Jimmy jerked his head at the thought. "Well, I'd argue that Captain Marvel came close."
A small wave of emotions crashed into Monica at the mention of Captain Marvel; like whatever happened between them, Monica didn't want to talk about the hero. She was uncomfortable with the conversation of an old friend who she hadn't seen in years. Monica tensed at the thought and shied away from the conversation, quickly flipping the table and turning the conversation elsewhere.
Monica wasn't going to sit here and listen to them talk about an old friend like she wasn't affected by the woman because Monica couldn't. There was this deep sense of disloyalty and betrayal that Monica couldn't shake off, and it hurt anytime someone brought her up. No amount of excuses could deter Monica's feelings.
"We're not talking about her," Monica says as she deflects the conversation like it was a moldy set of cheese that reeked, and Monica didn't want to stay there any longer. She moved away from the table to the collection of photos on the board, hiding how she must've reacted at the mention of Captain Marvel. "We are talking about Wanda."
However, even as Monica tried to pass the discomfort of the topic like she was dusting off dirt, wanting to get to the critical situation, it didn't go unnoticed by Darcy and Jimmy. They could practically sense the tension radiating from Monica as she avoided their gaze, refusing to want to speak up about the woman. Darcy was always in for a few tea-spilling moments, but seeing as this wasn't the time or place to discuss a woman's backstory, Darcy decided today wouldn't be great to discuss.
Jimmy and Darcy shared the same reactions behind Monica's back; they were suspicious yet aware of how cold Monica had gotten at mentioning the blonde superhero. There was no denying that their new friend must have issues with Captain Marvel, knowing they had known each other for a long time.
Monica frowned as she studied a photo between two others, but rather it being one of the characters of Wanda's show, the woman was ogling the only colored object in the frame. Interestingly, it was the face of the photo with a bright red helicopter with bis of paintings of orange in between, grabbing the attention. Monica analyzed it closer when she peeled it off the wall.
"Darcy?" called Monica, turning around and barely looking at the woman. "What was that you were saying about props and sets and . . ."
"Wardrobe?"
And right there, Monica believes she might be on to something; she has a conspiracy itch in the back of her mind, but she needs to test this theory. Monica has an idea, maybe it won't work, but that's why testing it is vital for scientists. So many thoughts were running through her mind, and she barely caught her breath when she gasped in disbelief, hoping she was on the right path.
"Where's the lab?"
The three of them were storming off in the direction of the lab, Darcy and Jimmy falling behind as they tried to keep up with Monica's hurried strut. No words were exchanged once Monica had set off in search of the lab, seeming as if the woman kept her thoughts to herself; neither Jimmy nor Darcy knew Monica's intentions. They were left in the dark.
"What are we looking for?" wondered Jimmy.
Monica marched toward the board on the side of the room; her clothes from Westview were pinned up and hanging on the wall, discarded shortly after Monica was ejected from the town and undergone some tests. Monica hadn't seen this outfit since then, but her suspicions might be correct.
"That," Monica went to the computer next to the clothes.
"Oh, man, are we being mind-controlled to see that right now?" joked Darcy.
"Jeepers, creepers!"
Something appeared on the screen, aligning with Monica's theories. "Ooh, no. They're real alright," Monica walked in between Jimmy and Darcy, stealing the gun from the hip of Jimmy's holster. "Can I borrow this?"
Jimmy didn't have time to react. "Whoa, whoa, whoa."
Darcy's lips parted momentarily before she cupped her ears to block out the loud popping from each shot Monica struck at the clothes, each bullet landing somewhere on the shirt. Darcy hadn't expected Monica to start firing guns out of nowhere, especially without warning. It was terrifying, to say the least. Darcy has never fired a gun before, and she's pretty sure she's never been around guns like that. She's usually the sidekick who sits in the van, assisting their partner from a safe distance.
Once the firing ended, Darcy let out a gasp. "Whoa!"
Monica handed Jimmy back his gun as he passed by her and made his way toward the discarded bullets resting on the ground; something strange occurred the more Jimmy looked at them. Typically, when a bullet is shot at such speed, it would've torn through the shirt and the metal shelf it was strung up on; however, Jimmy was astounded when he found the bullets laying on the floor in front of the frame.
Jimmy kneeled and picked one up, surprised to find it flat like a coin. "You had a bulletproof vest on when you went inside, didn't you?" Jimmy was in disbelief.
It was as if things were getting stranger each second.
"Those pants are eighty-seven percent Kevlar," Monica grinned in awe. "It's not an illusion. Wanda is rewriting reality."
"Permanently?"
"If she can change things as they go into the Hex--"
Darcy grinned. "Ah, you called it the Hex."
"What happens if we send something in that requires no change?"
Suddenly, a red light blinked in the lab room with an obnoxiously blaring alarm, alerting the facility of a breach. The sound took the three by surprise, pulling them away from their conversation as they looked up and around like they were searching for the source. But then Monica turned back to Darcy and Jimmy with matching puzzled expressions, unaware whether Hayward was going back into the Hex or not.
"Is this a drill?" wondered Darcy.
The trio walked toward the front door and stepped out, watching as men and women in gear rushed toward the Hex, guns ready and suited. Monica furrowed her brows as she wondered what the hell was happening, listening for any more muttering about the situation as they rushed back. However, Monica didn't hear anything.
Even Jimmy was confused as he watched the S.W.O.R.D. agents dart across the field, making their way toward the Hex. The FBI agents followed their direction with narrowed eyes, finding the Hex glitching like something was happening; Jimmy recognized the way it shifted, similar to when Monica was ejected from Westview. Then he realized.
"Someone's coming through the Hex," he said.
Darcy looked excited to hear Jimmy refer the anomaly to the Hex, feeling giddy that it was starting to stick to the FBI agent. She couldn't help herself when she commented about Jimmy using the name, but he didn't say anything back. Instead, they were shooting off and following everyone else in the direction of the Hex, curious about who was breaking through.
The alarms blared to a beat as the light flickered into the night sky, warning the agents to be prepared for what was about to come. No one knew what was happening, no thanks to the television that's been solely focused on Wanda; occasionally, they'd see Eszter here and there, but it was like the sister avoided being on the show unless she was with her sister. Everyone was on high alert from the moment Monica had disappeared prior, but Hayward was taking high precautions with whatever's been happening with Wanda. Not to mention, Eszter managed to escape from their clutch, putting her as a threat to everyone.
Monica glanced around, trying to find Hayward and better understand the situation, but the woman couldn't spot the man in the sea of agents. If he were out here, then Monica wasn't anywhere near him; chances are, Hayward was at the front of the crowd, leading them.
The Hex flickered and shifted like the colors you'd see on an old television screen when you stand too close; Monica stared in awe. She was standing on the edge of her feet with anticipation; fear didn't trickle in Monica like most of the agents would. The woman was determined to help the sisters no matter the cost. Monica felt her lips part in astonishment, eyes running along the side of the Hex, waiting for the surprise to finally show itself. Someone was trying to escape; however, Monica noticed the men were already aiming their guns at the Hex.
With her heart in her throat, Monica waited with anticipation.
Blinking like she was trying to fix her vision, Monica squinted at the Hex when a silhouette appeared behind the Hex, flickering in and out of existence. Someone was heading right for them, slow and striking suspense. Monica couldn't pin out who it could be, suspecting neither of the sisters would leave the Hex for the sake of their freedom; there was no chance either of them would escape the safety bubble Wanda had created for them. Monica doesn't see that happening. But a tiny slither of hope had Monica wishing that Eszter would possibly talk and get to the bottom of what's happening with Wanda.
Finally, the silhouette got closer as the Hex flinched to the movement inside, stretching like a swollen bubble when the figure got as close to the edge as possible. With everyone hanging on the to anticipation, their questions were answered when the Hex popped open, spewing the person out of its safety net.
Green lasers found their way to point threateningly at the figure strutting toward them, resembling someone who was all-too-familiar, yet she looked nothing like the person they last saw. The young woman wasn't wearing the familiar suit she wore once upon a time, designed and made for her by the start of her journey; her hair was pushed back by a strange headpiece that shimmered a deep violet color, looking like the letter 'M.' Her new attire was drastically different from the one she once wore--the neck piece cut around her bare shoulders and down the sleeve of her arms, distinct designs etched into the material with deep purple; the corset was cut sharply, and the similar dark purple was color-blocked with a dangerous black, an open skirt flowed down to her knees with a powerful, majestic violet with darkness swirled along with the fabric.
Eszter Maximoff didn't come out of the Hex as the fragile teenager they once took in, but a powerful, dangerous being that didn't resemble the Dusk; the witch had the darkness hiding behind her eyes, and her strut was emitting destruction waiting to happen. Eszter's eyes trained hard on Hayward as she looked like she was on a mission, ignoring the guns aimed at her chest and head. She was unfazed by them.
The witch stopped shortly, shooting Hayward a taunting smirk. "Director," said Eszter with the Sokovian accent dripping from her lips. "Happy to see me?"
Hayward stood in the middle of his men, protected by the guns surrounding him. "Can't say that I am," he answered tensely, watching Eszter warily. "I didn't think we'd ever see you again. Are you coming as a friend?"
A laugh wafted from Eszter. "Oh, we were never friends, Director," mocked the witch. Eszter's eyes sent shivers down Hayward's spine, feeling a cold and empty feeling weighing him down. "Don't stress yourself, Director; I'm not here to start anything unless you do as I say. I wouldn't be here if I didn't need to, but you have something that I want."
He furrows his brows. "I don't know what you're talking about," Hayward said, playing dumb.
Eszter started to pace, igniting a wave of hostility from the agents. "How about I jog your memory?" the witch stopped and turned scarily at Hayward. "I want that video Beck gave you. Then, you're going to tell everyone Mysterio is a liar, and framed Spider-Man. I want all of it, and you're going to give it to me."
"And if I don't?"
"Cute," snicked Eszter, amused. "You think you have a choice. No, no. You see, I'm not asking you; I'm telling you." Her fingers touched as they hooked together, resting in front of her as her gaze held Hayward's.
Part of Hayward couldn't decide whether Eszter was being serious or not; to him, Eszter was nothing but a dysfunctional teenager who could move things with her mind. She abuses her abilities to gain power, forcing others to her mercy. Hayward wanted to laugh in her face, take her in and send her to the Rift.
"I don't know who you think you are, but--"
"You're right; you don't know me," snapped Eszter, cutting Hayward off before he could finish his sentence. She watched him shut his mouth instantly as she fired back. "I'm a lot scarier when it comes to protecting my family and friends."
"Are you sure you want to do this? Risk your freedom, for what? For a fairytale?" Hayward bit back, trying to keep the throne that was being threatened by the witch. "Stand down and hand yourself over."
A cackle cracked through the starry night. "It's funny trying to pretend like you're the most important man in the world, hiding behind your men as they point their weapons at a seventeen-year-old," Eszter smiled forcefully, feigning amusement. "Tell me, Director, does it make you feel powerful? Do you feel like a man?"
Eszter left the man speechless, merely narrowing his eyes at the witch like he was threatening her with nothing; Hayward had nothing but the video dangling over her, and Eszter was done being treated this way. It irritated Hayward that Eszter had shown up and presented herself like this in front of his men, trying to intimidate the man and give up. He wasn't, though.
The witch's smile disappeared, and she was glaring at Hayward, barely taking a step forward before his men were shouting commands; they yelled and cursed at Eszter, ordering the witch to stop moving before they opened fire, but the witch ignored them. Even so, Hayward lifted his hand in the air, silently telling them to stand down until needed.
The witch stopped just before Hayward. "If you keep playing games, I'll give you a game to play," taunted Eszter, grinning manically. Suddenly, the witch started pacing around, and green lasers followed her movements. "I want that video and a promise that you'll leave my family alone."
"Your sister is holding those people hostage," argued Hayward, glaring at the witch. "This isn't something to joke about."
"They're well taken care of, thanks," she made a face, mocking Hayward's concerns. "We can do this all day, Director. I'm willing to play this game, but it'll be on my terms."
Hayward scoffed. "These are innocent people we're talking about, Eszter," he stared at the teenager with horror crossing his features, appalled. "Your sister is holding them against their will, forcing them to play this sitcom for what? For a chance to have children with a synthezoid?"
Eszter's features harden, tired of the stalling. "Clearly, you're incompetent enough to understand the dire situation," she stretches her neck, eyes shifting away from Hayward and toward the back of the group. "I'm done speaking with you. I'd like to talk to Monica."
He turned around subtly over his shoulder, barely casting a look at Monica, who most likely could hear the conversation play out. However, Hayward turned back to Eszter, pursing his lips tightly and shaking his head. He knew what the girl was trying to do. If he could stall long enough, Hayward would be able to get Eszter right where he wanted her, but he couldn't do it too soon.
But even with his silent schemes, Eszter can see right through him as if he were a transparent paper. The witch felt her eye twitch with anger as she clenched her jaw, almost cracking her neck when it jerked so fast to the side, glaring at Hayward. Eszter didn't like how Hayward was wasting her time, thinking her threats were nothing but empty; the witch thought she'd show him mercy, allow him to save his men. But no, Hayward tested her patience, and Eszter could feel the line growing thinner and thinner.
"As long as I have that video, I know you wouldn't do anything that would force me to put it out for the world to see," threatened Hayward, swallowing hard. "For everyone to see what you really are. Your friend will suffer the consequences of his actions . . . as will you."
Eszter's lips wobbled as her body trembled with adrenaline. "I hope you know that you've put everyone's lives in your hands," her voice was soft and shaky, forced and thick. "If you continue to refuse me what I want, then you'll understand what it feels like to lose everything." threatened Eszter with a faint voice. "Until you're ready to give me what I want, how about we play hide-and-seek? I hope you're not afraid of the dark."
Suddenly, uneasiness settled in the air at the sight of Eszter's manic smile; her lips were tugged from ear to ear, presenting the most gentle smile, but her eyes revealed the evil, dark thoughts hidden in the green forest eyes. It was like Eszter had lost her mind. Her sanity was being torn right before their eyes. She was fighting a losing battle with herself.
Eszter was becoming the devil.
Eszter turned her back to Hayward with an evil glint in her eyes, strutting away as her arms stretched down to her sides, fingers bending and curling sickly. Hayward's gaze fell to her fingertips where the energy orbs were casting beneath her grasp, purple and tainted with the destruction clutched to the chaos of a teenager's mind. Eszter faced the group once again, seemingly excited for what was about to come.
"Last chance, Director," said Eszter, eyeing Hayward warningly.
Standing his ground with wary eyes, Hayward forced his gaze away from the energy orbs. "Eszter," he said with an edge in his voice, staring at the witch with a subtle look.
She dipped her head low as the energy orb cast a shadow across Eszter's face, making it feel like they were in a scary movie. "I hope you understand why I'm doing this," she started, turning her gaze to the energy orb, and shifting it around. "But I tried to be reasonable."
Hayward took a step back. "Eszter, stand down, or we will open fire," warned the man.
Even as guns rose and aimed at Eszter, screaming threats at the witch to stand down, the girl refused to back down. Not when she finally was going to get what they deserved. Slowly and menacing, Eszter lifted her gaze and stared back at the agents, a taunting smile tugging at her lips. In the palm of her hand, Eszter held power to do whatever she wanted; finally, the world would understand the pain the witch had felt all these years. She was tired of taming this flame boiling in her belly; Eszter was done being their lap dog.
Eszter lifted her hand in the air as the energy orb hummed to the vibrations shimmering in her grasp; the witch twitched her wrist as she watched the dark energy swirl deeps into each agent's mind, rushing through their eyes, sending them to another place where their mind wouldn't be able to differentiate between reality and their nightmares. Eszter's eyes glowed as she lifted her other hand as darkness opened its wings from behind the witch, jumping high and low; the darkness swallowed the S.W.O.R.D. base until the field was utterly submerged in the dusk.
Purple lightning flashed through the shadows as nightmares wailed and screamed into the darkness, creating a devious smile that looked anything but like Eszter. She manifested the nightmares to her liking, using their fears against their will and watching as they tremble in fear; Eszter enjoyed watching someone else experiencing the same trepidation as she. Eszter craved the power she had over them, and for years, the witch let them control her like an animal.
Voices carried over the inky sky as cries called for someone, some running for protection while some followed their memories. Eszter drank in their anguish as they withered in pain, screaming from the insanity she bestowed. It was almost terrifying how their fears practically quenched her thirst for their pains. Like a satisfaction she never knew she needed.
This should be wrong, but why does it feel so damn good?
In the distance, Eszter could hear Monica's cries for her mother, pleading with the doctors to find her mom; the feeling was too close to home, and Eszter sensed it. Her weeps echoed in the pool of darkness, begging and crying out for a woman named Monica. It reached Eszter's ears as she dipped her head, eyes rolling toward the side, staring into the abyss. The witch shifted her attention away from Hayward and his goons to the woman who shared Eszter a bit of mercy, making her feel like she wasn't in Hell. Monica was drowning in her misery, watching the moment her mother died over and over again; all Monica could do was cry out for her mother, but Maria couldn't see her daughter standing there, screaming that she was there.
Eszter strutted toward the woman with her eyes trained on her, watching how Monica curled on the floor, her hands pressed to her face, sobbing. The witch didn't necessarily feel bad, but she did come here to make amends with Monica.
The witch gently laid a hand on Monica's head, petting the woman as she watched her memories; Little Monica was running around and playing with Maria, screaming out of pure joy. They were happy, even if it was just them two. Then the memory changed; Monica was in her early adulthood when she and Maria resided in the hospital, the older woman sleeping peacefully in the bed, head shaved.
"This feeling was always familiar to me," said Eszter, watching Monica's memories play out. "This darkness, it swallows you up. Grief, anger, sadness; it's like a ticking time bomb waiting to happen." Eszter steps away from Monica. "But I didn't come here to torture you, Monica Rambeau; I've come to negotiate."
Eszter waved her hand and dissipated the memory from Monica, releasing her from her hold. The older woman's cries stopped with sniffles, blinking away the tears as her brows furrowed in confusion; the nightmares were fresh in her mind, and Monica recalled the pain she felt that long ago. Monica picked her head up and scanned her surrounding, feeling her lips part in awe when she realized she wasn't in Westview; not really.
The witch walked around until she was standing in front of Monica's view, grinning proudly as she closed her hands together in front of her, turning her gaze toward the woman. Eszter was different from when Monica had last seen her, and she noticed the teenager was something more than they could handle--more than Hayward could take.
"You're awake," grinned Eszter, entertained. "Glad you can join me."
"Eszter? What--What is this?" asked the woman, baffled. Monica looks around, horrified. "What are you doing?"
"Finally standing up for myself," smiled Eszter. "Don't worry; I don't intend to hurt you, Monica. I just came to talk."
Monica presses her hand against her chest, eyes wide, appalled. "What did you do to me?"
"Yeah. Sorry about that. I had to get my point across," explained Eszter. She glanced at the agent. "Now you know what I'm capable of. But now that we got that out of the way let's chat; just us girls. Glad to see you good and new."
Monica frowns, pushing herself to her feet. "I didn't think you'd care when your sister threw me across town and out of Westview," she stared at Eszter with skepticism. "Why now?"
Eszter's lips twitched. "You were nice to me when we met; you tried to help me, and I'm repaying the offer," answered Eszter, raising her brows. However, Eszter sighed when she sensed Monica's doubtfulness. "My sister means everything, Monica. I'm sure you understand that feeling. You've lost someone from the looks of it?"
The air wisped from Monica's lungs, feeling grief strike her. "Something like that," she eyed the darkness, wary. "What is this place?"
"I'm not entirely sure, but I like to call it my own personal Hell. It's where I'm in control," informed Eszter.
Monica eyed Eszter carefully, but she looked around at the screams echoing in the distance. "What are you doing to them?" Eszter glanced at Monica with amusement hidden in her expression. "Eszter, what's happening to them?"
"I'm glad you mentioned that. I have a request--well, more like a demand," started Eszter, suddenly dropping the smile and revealing the snarl she hid. It took Monica by surprise; she'd never seen Eszter like this before. "There's something your boss has, and I want it. Either you give it to me freely, or I'll force it out of you."
"I . . . don't know what you're talking about, Eszter," Eszter shook with anger as Monica was stalling, infuriating the witch; she didn't appreciate the woman wasting her time. "If you'd just explain it to me, maybe we can figure it out--"
"Enough," said Eszter, commanding Monica to silence herself. The woman tried to speak, but her lips wouldn't part; the only sound she could make was the hums behind her lips. "I've waited long enough, Monica Rambeau. I want that video, or I'll bring this all down to hell. Don't make me ask again!"
Eszter glared at the woman as her patience grew thin, tired of feeling like everyone was a step ahead of her. The witch didn't want to be here any longer, but Monica was playing games, and Eszter was fed up with everyone playing her. Eszter studied the woman.
"He hasn't told you?" Eszter wondered. The witch blinked, and Monica finally felt her lips part, allowing her to speak. "You don't know what I'm talking about." Eszter looks in the darkness, waving the energy orb in the air, and suddenly, Hayward is standing in front of them. "But he does."
Monica stared at Hayward, startled by the way he was standing there silently, staring into space as he muttered nonsense under his breath. There was something wrong with him, and Monica suspects it has something to do with Eszter; whatever's happening here, Eszter was affecting everyone.
Eszter's lips pulled into a cunning smile, watching as Hayward suffered in the nightmares she cast on him; the witch's eyes burned violet as she looked through his eyes, changing the story where Eszter was hunting Hayward. His body quivered stiff like a board, unable to move under the witch's spell. Monica can see it in how Eszter walked with pride resting on her shoulders, apparently ecstatic that she had everyone under her will.
"The big and powerful Hayward of S.W.O.R.D. underestimated my capabilities," snickered Eszter. However, as much as Eszter would've enjoyed torturing Hayward, she has other places more important than him.
The witch waves her hand and forced Hayward onto his knees, muttering nonsense under his breath. Eszter watched with a horrifying glint in her eyes, enjoying the pain she was instilling into the director. Monica could do nothing but stand there and watch as Eszter tortured Hayward; the woman was helpless against the powerful witch. Then, Eszter released Hayward from her prison.
"Had a nice dream, Director?"
Hayward blinked as the nightmare disappeared from his sight, finding Eszter standing in front of him; he took a step back, looking around to see the world blanketed in total darkness, listening to the screams and wails. Hayward furrowed his brows in disbelief, and deep inside, the director was terrified of Eszter. No doubt, the witch can sense it.
"What the hell is this?" hissed Hayward, stepping back from Eszter with uneasiness. "Eszter, let us go, or there will be consequences."
Eszter chuckled. "You're in my house now, Director," sneered the witch, narrowing her eyes darkly at the man. She steps forward, following Hayward as the darkness loomed over the girl. "You do as I say."
Hayward pursed his lips, unable to fight Eszter, especially when they're under her powers. "What do you want?"
"You know what I want," snapped Eszter. She began to pace around Hayward. "I want the video you were so graciously given and for you people to leave Westview and never come back." The witch forced a wicked smile, eyes wide and swimming in tears. "And you'll never have to see us again. I swear."
"All this over a small video?" Hayward scoffed. "You're willing to risk everything all for a video?" The director wouldn't give into Eszter's demands. "You're gonna have to kill me if you want that video so bad."
Eszter smiles. "Or I can kill them," suddenly, the witch raised her hand as bodies appeared beside them, hovering in the air with purple energy wrapped around them. They screeched in pain, bodies convulsing under the magic burning through their skin. "I can kill them one by one--your call, Director."
Their wails had Hayward flinching as if he were the one experiencing the pain, looking away from his team in hopes of not being influenced by their pain; however, Hayward couldn't force out the way they sounded as they wither to the excruciating pain Eszter was putting them through. They were more than just his team of agents, they were still Hayward's friends, but he couldn't let Eszter win.
"Eszter! Stop this!" shouted Monica, heart racing fearfully. "Eszter, please! Don't do this! This isn't you."
Eszter fiddled with her magic, and she adjusted the energy until she began to hear bones cracking. "Not until I get what I want," said Eszter, staring hard at Hayward. "So, what's it gonna be?"
The pressure on Hayward's shoulders worsens, forcing him into a predicament. He looks at his agents briefly, feeling his hands shake anxiously. Hayward wanted to curse out loud, get back control, and put Eszter away once and for all, but he knew something was different than he could imagine.
"You're not a killer, Eszter!"
Growing annoyed by Monica's constant cries, Eszter rolls her eyes in the woman's direction; the witch moved her head and narrowed her eyes, cocking a brow.
"Aren't I?" Suddenly, Eszter twitched her fingers, and out of nowhere, one of the agent's body began to turn into dust. He screams. "I've always been since I was thirteen, according to everyone. Might well prove them right, right?"
Monica grimaces painfully. Her stomach was churning at the sight of the agent slowly being torn apart atom-by-atom, and there was nothing she could do. The agent was slowly dying a painful death, and Hayward was too stubborn to give up a stupid video.
His screams made Monica want to throw up whatever's in her stomach; the sight of a human being being erased from existence isn't soemthing Monica ever thought she'd witnessed, especially not by a teenage girl. Monica felt for the agent, but her main concern was Eszter proving to the public that she was a killer. Monica doesn't want Eszter to fall into their trap.
Monica couldn't let Eszter make this rash decision. What if she realizes her mistake, and then what? That will forever live in her conscious, and who knows what that'll do to her.
"Hayward!" Monica screamed until her lungs were burning. "Hayward, dammit! That video can't be more important than their lives, is it?" Monica glared at the Director with clear distaste by his hesitance. "Give her the damn video, Hayward!"
Most likely fighting a losing battle in his head, Hayward's face twisted into a grimace as if he was struggling; in fact, Hayward was. The video of Eszter 'brutally murdering' people is basically leverage Hayward could use to his advantage, but Monica was right. He couldn't stand here and let this go on. It's not worth it.
"Alright!" yelped Hayward, spitting slightly. "I'll give you want you want, just . . . let them go."
Smirking triumphantly, Eszter released the agents as they dropped carelessly to the floor; the witch was finally getting what she wanted. Eszter even reattached the man back together until his body was whole again. She didn't care for anyone here; even if Monica was kind to her, Eszter spared her life in return--her debt was completed. Eszter wanted nothing more than to leave S.W.O.R.D. in the past and go on with her life, to be with her sister and ignore the world. Nothing else matters but Wanda, and Eszter will be damned if she lets anyone get in the way of that.
Eszter strutted passed Hayward and toward the base that appeared in the distance. "Lead the way, Director."
☁︎ isabel's thoughts ☁︎
❝ i was soooo excited to post this! I wanted to make it big and crazy, and Eszter definitely is crazy lol. You have no idea how excited I was when I was writing this or when I wanted to publish it. Ahhh, it's finally here!
I know it's not much but it's a start I think. I love how Eszter can go from being a regular teen to a crazed witch lol. She's got different moods. I think we're slowly getting to the end. I'm already writing the Halloween episode. How crazy.
Also, I started reading Ice Planet Barbarians and wow, I'm in love lol. ❞