Dream a Little Dream


Wanda Maximoff was born a mutant, a member of the race known as homo superior. The unlocked potential created by the x-factor within genes allows her kind to do the unimaginable. In her case, Wanda can create a hex sphere just by gesturing with her hands. What was once the improbably can quickly become stone-cold reality. Donning the code name the Scarlet Witch, she has undertaken the tremendous responsibility of protecting humankind from superhuman threats. To this end, she became a member of earth's mightiest heroes, the Avengers.


**********

What is a dream if not a chance to escape the bonds of reality? It is a landscape that finds its form within subconscious desires. A dream can act as a portal through time and space -- healing old wounds, creating new friendships, giving life to the dead and forgotten. Though far from the control of the dreamer, its creation bears its fruit only by the seed within the sleeping mind. The dream belongs only to the dreamer.


But Wanda Maximoff does not dream; and the nightmares that invade every pore of her unconscious body are not of her making.


Her arms flail about, reaching for a husband who is no longer there. Sweat covers her body though she is cold to the touch. She tosses around, uncomfortable but still unawake. The worst part? She knows that it's not real and still she can do nothing about it.


A scarlet-hued boot gently finds it footing on the cracked desert floor. Not one, but two suns irradiate her body, heating her to the core of her being. Clouds fill the sky but offer no protection. Instead they taunt with a promise of rain that will never be fulfilled.


One foot finds its way in front of the other and Wanda begins the aimless quest. This isn't the first time she's been here -- that much she can remember. But which one of her enemies has found consistent pleasure in the torment of her rest? The Scarlet Witch has faced so many with seemingly limitless power -- Mephisto, Immortus, Dormammu, Chton, Set, Lore, Satannish, Morgan Le Fey -- any of these or a host of others may well be responsible.


She crosses the river of blood where the tree without roots spreads its tangled branches. The lively fluids calm their song as Wanda increases her distance from it. But turning back for a singular moment, she can hear it as loud as ever. It sounds like laughter.


Scaling the small rockface is easier than it should have been. Her fingers melt into the stone as though it were so much snow. Captain America could have made the climb in sixty seconds. Wanda makes it in ten.


At last she stands on the marble-like plateau. A howling noise comes in from the west, driving a wind that tosses her cape about recklessly. She stands firm. The twins -- fear and tragedy -- will not shake her today. She has grown to know them intimately over the years, and that served only to build her up. She knows they were weak; her courage will lay waste to them once again if necessary.


And then it appears. The Enemy. Cloaked behind darkness and lies, she can't make out its form, but the malice emanating from it plummets daggers into her soul.


Its energy flies towards her, as though it were some metal to her own magnet. A mystical shield is erected with only seconds to spare as the barrage begins. She holds her chin high -- confident, never wincing -- barring the attack. The creature is taken aback by her magical prowess -- and this is the lesser of her powers!


Moving to the offensive, Wanda calls on her mutant heritage with her hex bolts. Blow after blow forces the demon's retreat -- not backwards, but within its own body. Moments later she stands alone again. All that remains is the lost echo of a voice crying out her name.


"Wanda!"


Dazed but completely alert, she awakes to find herself in complete uniform, standing before several fellow Avengers.


"Wanda!" Captain America yells again. "Why, Wanda? What could have possibly made you do it?"


The man she has admired for years has a puzzled expression on his face. His questioning eyes make a near-deafening sound, but it is subdued by the faint smell of something smoldering. She turns, slowly, as fear coupled with a sense of impending tragedy nearly freezes her. She moves towards the direction where her unknown assailant stood only moments ago. But it is not the creature or its ashes that reside in that spot. All that remains in that dark corner of Avengers Mansion is the blackened and melted body of the Vision.


She stares in disbelief as she recognizes the tragic consequence of her own power. She wants to scream. She wants to cry. But mostly she just wants to wake up from the dream that has forced its way into her reality.


But Wanda Maximoff does not dream; and the nightmares that invade every pore of her unconscious body are not of her making.


To be continued...

This page hosted by GeoCities Get your own Free Home Page