What is worse? To run and hide, or to fight and die?
Victor Faust, who once befriended the Maximoff twins, moves back to Sokovia in hopes of finding solace and peace. Now older and alone, he reopens his grandmother's herbal shop and tries to help So...
June 29th, Agatha's home,2019, Salem, Massachusetts US
Victor Faust POV
The forest and the stars were watching him. Judging him. Victor stared right back as he released another thick cloud of smoke. With a loud sigh, he held his breath and drowned the entirety of his cup. He nearly spit out the thick black liquid that Agatha has called 'prune juice.' His cousin's potions were effective; his body returned to its state before Thanos, but God damn, it was, disgusting. Like rotten eggs mixed with mud. Right after he swallowed, he took a long drag of Matilda. His throat and stomach relaxed as the sweet herb numbed his insides. This was the best thing he ever made. The wind started to shake the trees, yet only silence surrounded him. Victor felt his breath freeze.
"What the hell?" Then delicate fingers took away his cigarette. Soft green eyes looked into his own mischievously. Those weren't her eyes. It's the wrong shade of green. "I must really be losing it. I'm fairly certain it didn't take another dosage of Sylvia."
"You didn't." 'Wanda' mused while opening her pink lips and blowing smoke on his face. "Are you really so lost that you would rather lobotomies yourself? We've got family now, Victor. We can start over and do something with our lives. You know she would absolutely hate what you are trying to do."
"Shut up and stop appearing as Wanda! You are not her! You are just my stubborn brain; who should stop resisting."
"I'm trying to save you!" She shouted. "If you were actually in the right mind, you would already notice that Agatha can't help you. She is the one who needs help!"
"She's crazy, but soon it won't matter. Nothing will. Just a day or two, and I will be able to force you into submission, even with the incomplete Sylvia."
'Wanda' dropped the cigarette and looked at him with disgust. Even if, rationally, Victor knew she wasn't real, that sight hurt him more he could ever admit.
"Ok, fine, let's make a deal. I will let you kill yourself today, even in a moment, but first get to the basement."
"It's bad I don't trust my brain so much, isn't it?"
"Yeah, it is." 'Wanda' snorted.
"But why the basement?"
"Because since the moment Agatha offered her help, you have acted like a race horse. You only see what's in front of you. If you were in the right mind, you would immediately sense that thing underneath."
"What thing?"
"Just do it, Victor. Please. For us and for her." And she was gone. Her image blurred and disappeared in the wind. Shrugging, he went back inside. Agatha was away doing God knows what, so he moved through the dark and empty house and went into the basement.
Have you ever thought you were going to hit a wall and jerked back? Even if there was never a wall?
Neither the energies Victor has sensed from his father's magic nor the Nightmare's came close to the rotten and putrid air he was hit with. He slowly moved, as the wooden stairs creaked under his foot. It grabbed him. Victor felt his throat and face being covered in this... This thing.
"Sweet Lord, have mercy. I was really blind."
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