Aug Chapter 9: Wild Hunt

Wanda Maximoff rested her eyes as she lay in her padded cell in Saint Marcus Asylum for the Criminally Ill, Southwest Kentucky. It was dark and mold filled room, secured by heavy iron vault doors that belonged in a Bank instead of an Asylum but Wanda was special and thus needed special accommodation. This solitary room had been her home for the past six years. In two years she would be free to hunt Erik and Pietro Lehnsherr and put them both in ground as they deserved.

The dark haired mutant spent her hours obsessing over the multiple ways that she would painfully end their miserable existences. She once called them family but after their betrayal, after six years of abuse at the hands of doctors trying to fix whatever her former father and brother framed her for, after six years of isolation she could no longer call them such.

Wanda would be the first to admit that she had been an angry child but that was to be expected after Erik had ripped her from her mother's arms and forced to live in a city that was not her own or learn language that she did not know.

Her mother was Romani, or Gypsy as most knew them, and so were her people and she had joyfully lived amongst them eight happy years of her life before Erik stole her away. For two years she lived with the silver haired father and son, with them she learned anger, hatred, and envy.

Erik treated her former brother like his heir. Wanda, he treated as a burden. She was forbidden from practicing the arts her Mother had dutifully taught her, her charms were burned, her herbs flushed. Every time she tried to gather materials Erik's son would rat her out, leaving her to stew miserably in a cold unfamiliar house.

Pietro was arrogant and entitled, stealing her toys and hiding them away while Erik did nothing. He believed that only the strong survived… yet how could she grow strong without the support of her family?

Sadly, Erik did not think her worth her time so he had Melanie Bird, a psychologist and psychiatrist, to put her in this cage. With her aid and several animal corpses, they had enough to keep the last Scarlet Witch on a short leash. As it was, she wouldn't be able to leave the doctor's 'tender' care until she reached majority.

By tender, Wanda meant the twenty-three hours of isolation, he beatings that followed if she didn't take her drugs, and leashes that they used to dragged her around to back of the building… were they would do unspeakable things to her body.

They tried to break her but men who feared her power, like Erik and Pietro, would not cow her, Wanda would destroy them all.

In the darkness, where none could see, the Scarlet Witch began to chant. A cursed chant, one that her mother had not taught her, but one she had learned from the whispers that buzzed through her ears at night. They spoke in tones that elicited horror but as time went on, and days slipped into months and months into years, they became the only way she knew that time was passing.

"Nyctophobia." Wanda heard herself mutter. The fear of night, no, that wasn't quite right. Wanda didn't fear the night as much as what was in it. "Fear of night, fear of not night." She hadn't seen the sun in years as those that kept her prisoner only took her when the moon hung high and the others were asleep.

She poured her anger and hatred into the chant. Pushing the comforting memories of her mother, of her people, of a time before Erik into the far reaches of her mind so they wouldn't be tainted by the dark magic she was about to preform.

They kept her bound from head to toe. A brownish, filth covered straitjacket, that at one point had been white, were tied behind her back in a manner that would make the necessary hand motions impossible but the guard that had bound her hadn't been careful when he strapped her down. She relaxed her wrists and slowly tugged each hand free.

She did not whimper when the fingers in her hands made popping noises, Wanda's blue eyes steeled in determination. When they were free, bones popped into place and in dazzling display of magic, she tore the fabric off her torso in a glow of red light that left her immaculate, if not naked.

Except for a half formed headpiece that began to materialize the moment Wanda began to channel her power.

The Scarlet Witch moved to the center of the room and looking at the south-facing wall. Wanda extended her arms out and moved them in the circle her fingers danced and her wrists moved as she began the chant in the language of the Great Old Ones.

"Ph'nglui n'ghft ot ah'mglw'nafh yogshugg, ep ahmgn'ghft nwngluii ot shub-niggurath, fhalma ot yeeogognor gof'nn, Y' ymg' uln mgepmgvulgtlagln ehye! Kierrok!" In the darkness of a dying moon, under the shining eyes of the Black Goat of the Forest, mother of a thousand children, I summon you Damned One! Kierrok!

A wave of magic erupted from her being. It shot through the iron doors and carried through the flickering hallways like a wail of insanity and misery. As it passed it infected every single inhabitant with pieces of Wanda's rage. The patients howled like beldam and a few of the guards had to be restrained and sedated. The few guards that were not immediately driven to madness scrambled to reach Wanda's door.

When they managed to unlatch the locks, the Scarlet Witch was nowhere to be found but that did not mean that the cell was empty. In her place was a large demonic dragon like beast with thick, red scales, sharp rows of teeth, and twisting, winding black horns. The creature's maw was wide open as its single large red eye studied each and every man and found only fractions of his prey within each of the mortals.

"What the hell is that?" One of them shouted in fear. His soul was the most corrupted out of all of them.

"I am Kierrok, little animal, Kierrok the Shatterer of Souls, Kierrok the Slayer of Men and I have come for you this night, humans." It growled. The monster's voice was deep and umbra. "For your lives and for your souls!" The demon's leathery wings extended to half-mast, making the beast look larger than it was. Armed with chattel prod and poles meant to restrain Wanda.

The screams that followed were drowned out the howls and shouts of the inmates; safe behind heavy iron doors… the guards had no such protection.

o0o0o0o0o

Twenty miles away, Rogue and Sam had parked off the side of a lonely, decrepit back road miles away from any nearby town or cities. The night was dark as the moon in its crescent phase and Sam could see the stars for as far as her blue eyes could see. It was a beautiful night, peaceful as her life ever managed to be. Despite the foliage, the small clearing reminded her of the Burrow… especially because Rogue snored just as loud as Ginny used to when Sam stayed over3. As it was she was resting on the roof of the dilapidated truck.

One of the two comforters they had bought in one of their many stops as they traversed the hidden paths of America. This was mostly on Sam's insistence but Rogue didn't exactly disagree. Neither one wanted to run into the X-Men nor anyone that wanted to capture Sam, so they tried to hide their trail as best as they could. They back tracked, tried to make it look like they were heading west instead of northeastward. It was why they had taken so long to traverse Tennessee and were just now entering Kentucky.

Not that she minded.

Sam loved traveling, it was something that she had only started doing after Sirius had died and even then she didn't get to do it for long. She almost wished she had a broom, almost. As soon as her mind wandered to the more spectacular part of her life her muscles began to seize.

Snapping away from thoughts of magic, Sam continued to star gaze but the warm feeling of nostalgia

But it was not the beauty of the night, nor was it the feeling of nostalgia, or the conditioning she had suffered through that kept her awake in such a beautifully peaceful night. It was the fact that she couldn't quiet her mind or her thoughts that irked her to no end. When she closed her eyes all she could see was the burnt twisted mindscape where the Other resided. This internal scar kept her from escaping from the waking nightmare that came to life every time she caught a glimpse at her reflection.

The old, rusted truck that Sam had acquired nearly a week ago and the camper that came with it were hidden behind thick trees and bushes.

She was dressed in a pair of shorts and a long sleeved green shirt. Her feet were bare and covered in dirt. The fall colors had overtaken the green on all sides, even in the darkness she could make out the fiery blaze that adorned the trees with a myriad of a thousand shades of flame. If a passerby were to spot Sam's unmoving form they may have confused her for corpse or a scene out of Snow White, much to her annoyance. Skin as white as snow, hair as black as night… all she was missing were the Ruby colored lips and she was set.

Sam huffed and sat up from her perch. Oh, how she wished she had Hermione by her side… The curly haired witch would, after extensive research, know exactly what Sam needed to do. For example the mutant was sure that Hermione would have already planed out multiple routs that would get them to the American Ministry without being spotted by the groups that were hunting them. Her analytical mind would be invaluable compared to Sam's own.

As it was Sam was in quite the pickle. If or, more optimistically, when they made it to New York, how exactly would she explain that the supernatural was real… but then again… would it be that much of a leap from a Mutation that absorbed both powers and identities?

Whatever the conclusion might have been became irrelevant as a horrid scream pierced the night. In an instant, Sam had slid herself from the roof of the car and was pulling on the driver's side handle, but froze when she heard the scream once more but this time Sam could distinguish human qualities to it. Through the psychic bubble, that had arisen the moment she sprung into action, Sam felt wave after wave of agonized emotion coming from somewhere beyond the trees.

In all her life, Sam hadn't felt anything quite like this. The closest she had ever come to something like this was when the Dementors were swarming Sirius and her. This was what had made her freeze, not because it reminded her of the unearthly sound that came from a Banshee's wail, but because she was literally fighting herself.

The Other, feeling that Sam wanted to see if she could help the source of the scream, was trying to wrestle control away from the telepathic witch. It began as slight discomfort but it quickly spread like a fire though her body. It nearly brought her to her knees but yet she resisted. Sam retaliated by pushing back the burning sensation, isolating it beneath the base of her skull, and sending the feedback to the Other directly.

Between the two of them the pain threshold was unbelievably high but a second in reality could be days within the mindscape. Time lost all meaning under those glowing red stars and the field of bones that sat between the Forbidden Forest and the Black Lake, As the battle for supremacy continued the sound of screams died down until all Sam could hear with her keen ears were broken whimpers of a wounded woman.

With each sound, Sam's resolve grew exponentially and she was able to snuff her inner fire. Once free of her turmoil, she charged into the darkness with only pained sounds as her guide. She ran faster than she ever thought possible, stumbling once or twice on ill placed roots but never loosing her footing.

The closer she got, the stronger the scent of blood became. From there it wasn't long until Sam found herself in an artificial clearing. The reason that she knew that this was man made was due to a series of scorch marks branching out from the center of the field where a body lay trembling.

What she saw and what she felt nearly brought the pale mutant to her knees. The body on the floor belonged to a girl, younger undoubtedly younger than Sam by at least a year, huddled in the fetal position. She was malnourished, much like Sam had been before Sirius put the fear of god in the Dursleys, and they were bruises that marred her sickly pale skin, her eyes were bloodshot and there eye bags that indicated her lack of sleep. Her hair was covered with filth but it looked to be black or at least dark brown. The only thing she had on in the manner of clothing was strange M shaped headpiece that kept her hair from her face.

But there was something that made her muscles lock in the air, something she had given up on ever feeling again after her kidnappers were done with her.

Sam felt Magic… yet for some unknown reason her body did not stop until it was cradling the girl's shaking form. The headpiece cluttered to the ground while Sam easily lifted her off the ground but yet the older witch paid it no mind. Each step felt heavy as they made their way to the camper.

She would have to wake Rogue once she got back… ask her for some of the clothes they bought for her…. Because Sam was sure that the two were about the same size.

An eternity later she reached the truck and found a worried Rogue looking like she had just roused from her slumber. She was wearing her usual outfit, the one she had brought with her from her house. Oh, and she was very angry, Sam didn't need to be a telepath to know that, but her expression instantly softened when she saw the state of the mysterious girl in her arms.

"Dammit, Sam." Rogue cursed under her breath as she ducked into the camper and held the rusted door open for them. As Sam passed her by her companion Rogue whispered: "Next time you get a hankering to wandering around, you better tell me, or I swear... "

Sam was lucky that there was no real bite in the Goth's tone. Rogue could hold a grudge. Evidence towards this conclusion was apparent everyday when she muttered about the mutant hunters and how they had ruined her life.

"I will." Sam apologized, placing the girl onto the only bed. "Do you know any first-aid?"

"Sure do, Sugar." Rogue moved passed her, popping the overhead compartment and grabbing a red bag with a white cross on it. "Just help mah clean her up an I can start bandaging her up."

o0o0o0o0o

Emma Frost did not like doing favors for other branches of the Hellfire Club. They tended to be far more trouble than they were worth but when Andromeda Tonks nee Black approached her she couldn't very well say no. The woman was a literal witch and held tremendous influence in their circles and was rumored to be next in line for the position of Lord Imperial once Sir Gordon Phillips passed on. As such it would be in her best interest to maintain her a good relationship with the woman.

As a result, the current White Bishop stood in front of some of the best trackers whose services she could acquire on short notice. Of these five figures at least two would complete the mission without much trouble. From left to right stood: Domino, Deapool, Sage, Silver Sable, and Taskmaster.

Silver Sable, true name Silver Sablinova, and her Wild Pack made their reputation hunting down war criminals. Hopefully, they would put their expertise to good use finding the missing Samantha Potter. Though only human, she was in peak physical condition and Emma did not hesitate to send her against super human enemies. In her tenure as a retainer for the Hellfire Club she had yet to fail. Silver Sable had white hair and had a rather average height, but that did not mean that she was to be underestimated. She was a master martial artist and proficient in most forms of weaponry. She wore a signature white cat suit that was armored over vital points.

Taskmaster, true name Tony Masters, was newer but equally as reliable. He did not posses the X-gene but he did have a superhuman ability to copy and understand his opponent's movements. He was an excellent strategist and she had little doubt that he would succeed if Silver Sable failed. The man carried a long sword and a shield. He dressed in a blue jumpsuit and a white cloak. Taskmaster hid his face with a skull mask.

Sage, true name unknown, was a mutant Technopath. Her ability to connect to machinery through the World Wide Web and her capacity to process, retain, and understand data was unparalleled. With her help finding Miss Potter would be considerably easier… especially if her suspension about that she was taken by more unsavory elements, possibly HYDRA due to their involvement with Grinderwald and his abolitionist movement, was correct. She was a rather short woman with a visor connected to her network. She was responsible for patching the Hellfire Club in Xavier's Cerebro.

Domino, Neena Thurman, was her trump card. Her mutation allowed her an incredible amount of control over probability, in other words when dealing with Domino nothing was left to chance. Her chalk white skin and signature circular black tattoo over her left eye had become a signature in the mercenary world. Next to her was an uninvited tagalong she would have rather never laid eyes on.

Deadpool, Wade Wilson, was unpredictable and left a staggering amount of collateral damage in his wake and worse of all was the fact that in more than a few occasions his objectives were left unfulfilled. That being said he proved to be an effective distraction if Domino made him focus enough he could be, dare she say it? effective.

"You each know the job." Emma spoke loudly and clearly. "Find Samantha Potter; bring her here and get paid. Whether you do this individually or as a group matters little to me but you should be aware that the your pay will remain unchanged. Ten Million upfront; twenty for whomever brings the girl here alive and well." She paused locking eyes with each of the assembled mercenaries. "bring her back in under a month and I will add another million. Grab a file and be on your way,"

"Get the girl, get paid." Taskmaster mumbled before nodding. "I'll get it done." He grabbed a file flipped through it and left.

"My Wild Pack will not fail." Silver Sable confirmed as she grabbed one of the files on the table. She didn't even bother opening it before she followed Taskmaster's lead and left.

"This will be an interesting case." Sage nodded and exited as the other two had done.

Domino had a cocky smirk on her face as she grabbed a file but that left her face the second she caught a glimpse of the girl's picture. Whatever she was thinking was quickly hidden away in a mass of meaningless drivel. This of course peaked Emma's curiosity but she didn't feel it was prudent to push the issue… that was until Deadpool brought it up in the least tactful way imaginable.

"I was struck by lighting, walkin' down the street
I was hit by something last night in my sleep
It's a dead man's party who could ask for more?
Everybody's comin', leave your body at the door… wait a second!" Wade had been singing until he made a connection. He gasped dramatically and began waiving his hands excitedly. ""OMG, Dom. Is this kid, like, your sister or something, cause, holy chimichangas she looks just like… no. Wait… she's your kid!" At Domino's non response Deapool continued to escalate. "You had a kid… and you didn't tell me! what kind of best-"

The gunshot that silenced the merc with a mouth was loud enough that it left a ringing in the White Bishop's ear. "Not another word, Asshole."

Emma made a note to contact Domino later, she needed to know that this wouldn't interfere with the job but the fact that she didn't want to ruin her clothes stopped her from doing it now.

o0o0o0o0o

A/N: A lot of things happening in this chapter.

First up Kierrok: He's an old obscure X-Men villain that made his irst appearance happened shortly after Thunderbird's death in the comic. I'm using his original draconic appearance for the purpose of introducing more mystical elements of the X-Men mythos into the story.

Wanda: I know her first appearance in the show isn't until season two but I felt that it be good to get her out of the asylum now so she could grow as character before Magnet uses mastermind to fuck her mind up. I also wanted to add to the Wanda Erik conflict. Give her a real reason to hate the man as much as she does that it drove to near insanity.

The Mercenaries: I honestly thought that it would be more realistic than Emma assembling her Hellions and hunting Sam down.

Next Update: Foxglove