You're sayin' those words like you hate me now (Wo-oah),

Our house is burning when you're raisin' hell (Wo-oah),

Here in the ashes your soul cries out,

Don't be afraid of these thunderclouds

-Thunderclouds; by Labrinth, Sia, and Diplo

Sophia sat forward in her seat, her elbows resting on her thighs as she studied the man in front of her. He was older, bald, and sat in a mechanical wheelchair. He looked kind, almost grandfatherly, but Sophia could sense there was something else about him. Something almost unnatural. Was she right to make an assumption like that? It felt a bit rude, but she couldn't say for sure.

Letting out a shaky breath, Sophia looked down for a moment. She had to take into account everything she'd been told. It would make sense, but she still couldn't believe it. Nothing about what she'd gone through — what her daughter had gone through — seemed real. It had to be a nightmare of some kind. Right?

"Ms. Sinclair," the man said, his voice laced with a British accent. "Do you have any questions?"

Swallowing thickly, Sophia nodded. "Will you be able to fix my daughter?" she rasped.

His eyebrows raised in alarm. "Your daughter isn't broken, Ms. Sinclair," he stated. "She's anything but."

Shaking her head, Sophia ran a hand through her hair. "She wasn't like this," she said. "She was normal before. She was human."

"Your daughter was born with the X-Gene; she was born a mutant. Her powers didn't manifest until she hit puberty, a common sign in others her age."

"Why did it have to be my child?"

"The X-Gene is unpredictable at best," he answered. "It's hard to say when it will appear."*

"Unpredictable. . .," Sophia murmured. Letting out a sharp, almost humorless, chuckle, she ran her hand through her hair again. "I-I don't know. Do what you want with her, I don't care anymore."

"Ms. Sinclair, it's important to understand that Jerilyn is still your child," he exclaimed. "You shouldn't treat her any differently because, now, she has powers."

"She's not my little girl anymore," Sophia said. "My little girl was sweet and happy. Not some freak."

A saddened look came across his face. "Would you mind if I spoke to Jerilyn for a little bit?" he asked. "I'd like to familiarize myself with her."

Nodding, Sophia stood up to go get her daughter.

°˖✧◝(⁰▿⁰)◜✧˖°

There was something oddly fascinating about blood. The color, the coppery smell and taste, the overall feel of it. Jerilyn knew that her thoughts on the substance was in no way normal, but she didn't mind. She still found herself intrigued by it. Blood, in her mind, was complex and mysterious. All living beings had blood. They needed blood in order to survive. If too much blood was lost, then the beings would die. But in Jerilyn's case, she felt like her relationship with the red, coppery liquid was different.

Taking a thumbtack, she pricked her forefinger, watching as a red drop of blood oozed out. Narrowing her eyes a little, Jerilyn focused on that drop of blood. Almost immediately, the drop started extending outward, shifting and twisting about. It moved like it had a mind of its own, as if it were curious about the world around it, but Jerilyn knew better. The reason her blood moved in such a manner was because she controlled it. And if she could do that with just a little bit from a pricked finger, then God only knows what she could do with a bigger opening.

Focusing even more, Jerilyn felt her brows furrowing and her lips pursing tightly. She wanted to see just how far she could take it. And it seemed to work, too. The harder Jerilyn focused, the more changes seemed to occur. The blood twisted around until it became a point. It looked almost like a thorn, jutting out long and firm at the tip of her finger.

"I can't believe it," Jerilyn murmured. "I just can't believe it."

The blood went from its thorn-like appearance, back to a more fluid state. It moved with ease, becoming longer and more elegant. In Jerilyn's eyes, it was amazing.

But a knock on the door broke Jerilyn's concentration. Letting out a startled gasp at the sharp knocks, she watched in horror as the string of blood spattered on her bed sheets. Not long after, an ache pulsed throughout Jerilyn's finger. That sensation was incredibly mild, compared to other cuts the teen made.

"What?" Jerilyn called.

"I need you downstairs." Sophia. The teen's brows furrowed. She'd been told specifically to stay in her room no matter what. Why the sudden change?

"Is there something wrong?" Jerilyn asked.

"Just come downstairs, please."

°˖✧◝(⁰▿⁰)◜✧˖°

Jerilyn had to admit she was surprised. She never would've guessed the reason she had to go downstairs was because of some old man. He gave off a grandfatherly vibe, one Jerilyn found welcoming yet suspicious. No one could come off that warm and welcoming without wanting something in return.

"Hello, Jerilyn," he stated, a British accent lacing his words. "My name is Charles Xavier. It's a pleasure to meet you."

He extended his hand, a welcoming expression on his face. Again, that seemed to raise Jerilyn's suspicions.

But, at the same time, the teen had to remember her manners. Her mother taught her to be respectful to those around her, and if some mysterious old man was going to introduce himself to her, Jerilyn knew she'd have to do the same. Firmly shaking his hand, the teen looked him in the eyes, her mouth set and her gaze focused.

"It's a pleasure to meet you," Jerilyn responded. "I'd tell you my name, but it seems you already know it."

With a chuckle, Charles nodded. "I'd like to have a talk with you," he responded, folding his hands on his lap.

Sitting down on the sofa, Jerilyn studied Charles carefully. She took note of how articulate he was, how he seemed to clearly state what he wanted to say. That was more than the teen could ever do. She always stumbled over her words, taking a moment to really figure out what she wanted to say. Charles was very matter-of-fact.

"What is there to talk about?" Jerilyn asked.

"Your mutation."

Furrowing her brows, the teen felt her lips purse. Mutation? She'd never heard that word as a description for herself before. It made her blood boil somewhat. To be called a mutant, in any shape or form, seemed to be insinuating some kind of insult. And if Charles was in some way trying to insult Jerilyn, she'd let him have it without even hesitating.

"I don't have a mutation," she exclaimed. "So wherever you're going with this, you can. . ."

"I can assure you, Jerilyn," Charles interrupted, "you are, in fact, a mutant. It is a common trait rising more and more in today's youths."*

Glaring at the older man, the teen felt her skin crawl at the word. She couldn't handle the thought of being called anything but human.

But how many humans are capable of controlling blood? Jerilyn thought. That doesn't seem very natural in ordinary people.

Normal. It was a word Jerilyn desperately tried to fit into. Her mother always talked about wanting a nice, healthy, normal family; so when the teen's blood abilities started manifesting, things started to change drastically. Nothing made sense anymore. Everything felt like it was crumbling in Sophia's eyes; but the mother never took into account the toll it was taking on Jerilyn.

"There is nothing wrong with being a mutant," Charles went on. "It is simply what we're meant to be. For me, I find it to be helpful to find newly developed mutants and help them grow into their powers. The sooner we can control our gifts, the sooner we can go back into the world."

Jerilyn's brows furrowed. Was Charles telling the truth? She didn't know; she wasn't a mind reader. Did she want to believe he could help her? Possibly, but she was still on the fence about the whole thing. The word mutant still pissed her off to a degree. But seeing the determined look in Charles' eyes, Jerilyn had to wonder if he really was willing to help her out. While she could control blood on a smaller scale, using it in large amounts weakened her severely. It was horrendous.

"You think you can help me?" Jerilyn asked, crossing her arms over her chest.

"You've got a gift, Jerilyn," Charles stated. "I'd be more than willing to give you the proper guidance you need."

Guidance. It was such a simple word. It could hold no significance to some, but it could mean the world to others. Was Jerilyn ready to give guidance a chance?

°˖✧◝(⁰▿⁰)◜✧˖°

Hemokinesis. It's a rather dark form of known psionic abilities, seen as barbaric and savage by many. While not very common, it always seemed to pop up every once in a while. In Jerilyn's case, she was the first mutant in over two decades to possess a blood-related mutation. In her eyes, over time, she saw that as quite the honor.

A plus side of having hemokinetic abilities seemed to be the endless uses it possessed. Jerilyn could weaponize her own blood, using it as both defense and offense. She could also manipulate other living beings, her victims' bodies becoming puppets to her. That was one of Jerilyn's favorite techniques.

Sadly, Jerilyn had to be careful with how she used her mutation. If she drew too much blood from herself, she'd die. Should she cause too much damage to her victims, she could essentially kill them, too. Hemokinesis was essentially a power trip waiting to happen. As much as Jerilyn enjoyed using her powers, over the years it took her to control them, she had to understand the risks that came with it.

(A/N):

Not the best first chapter, but I think it's at least decent, don't you think? If you've got any ideas on how this could be improved, be sure to let me know. Constructive criticism is always welcome here!

Do I own anything in the MCU? No. No I don't. All I own are my OCs, my subplots, and the bamboo plants in my room. If you've got ideas for an OC or a subplot, be sure to PM me or leave a review.

Side Note: "So far, we have an idea of what Jerilyn's powers are. She can weaponize/manipulate blood. Honestly, I got the idea of hemokinesis from the anime, Deadman Wonderland. The show only has one season, but I was rewatching it and the idea just popped into my head, ya know? So, for now, I have two official weapons Jerilyn can use her own blood for: 1. On her forearms and hands, if an open wound is present, Jerilyn can manipulate her blood to become scythes (similar to the character Senji from Deadman Wonderland); 2. She can also create "blood bombs", concentrated balls of blood filled with explosive kinetic energy. Those abilities will be shown later in the story, though.

If you guys have any questions, don't hesitate to let me know."

Leave a random fact in the review section if you want. It could be on something new or on something old. It's completely up to you guys.

Thank you guys so much!

Harper Sy