She fell on the ground, blood on her lips and it stained her shirt as it fell. Above, a figure loomed over her, holding only a gun to her heart. She didn't really care. Her ribs were broken, an arm too. Black eye and too many cuts to count. Maybe a leg. Death was almost inevitable at this point. The girl spoke up, twisting her fingers around the gun.
"Look kid, I know you don't have a death wish." began the witch, twirling some office supplies around with red energy as if it were a nervou habit. The girl smiled and blood came down her temple, where a large cut had opened up.
"Your wrong about that, mija." spoke the girl with a thick Spanish accent. She jumped to attack the witch, but was greeted with a gunshot to her heart. The Scarlet Witch dropped the gun in suprise and ran away, leaving the girl alone. Death was coming. The only thing she did was hum. She hummed until her last moments, when her lungs drowned her in blood. She wasn't legally old enough to drink. She wasn't a bad person. She was just a victim of one of Wanda Maximoffs endless mind games. Only, she wasn't strong enough to allow herself to live. Death though of this as he reaped the small girls soul. He doesn't think it's either of the girls fault. They were just pawns on a chessboard. A chessboard where Death collected the missing pieces.