Haunted
Prologue
"Truly great friends are hard to find, difficult to leave, and impossible to forget."
A young woman ran through the streets of the town, ignoring her burning lungs and the pain coursing through her body. She had to get away, to outrun them. If she didn't, she would die. They would definitely kill her.
She continued to run from the two figures chasing her. There were originally five, but she dispatched three of them before figuring that she was too wounded to deal with the other two and running away from the battle. But they were persistent.
She came upon a wall and gasped, turning to see the two figures advancing on her quickly. She glanced around, finding a tree close by, but on the other side of the wall. If she could get to that branch… There! A dumpster. She bolted towards the dumpster, her action causing the figures to pick up their speed towards her. She jumped on the lid of the dumpster, grabbed a hold of the lowest tree branch she could and hauled herself over the wall just as a clawed hand swiped at the air where her leg had been.
She fell out of the tree, too weak to catch herself nor maintain any balance so she fell on her ass. She leaned against the wall and heard the hisses and cursing in a foreign tongue from the people who were chasing her.
She placed her hand over the wound on her side, trying to stop the bleeding even though she knew it wouldn't help much. She shakily stood, wanting to get away in case they found a way to get past the wall and into the enclosed area.
She slowly made her way away from the wall, limping due to the broken bone in her leg that she ignored while she was running. However, now she couldn't help but notice the pain as black dots invaded the corners of her vision. She tried to shake her head to make them go away, but that only made it worse.
She saw a house and made her way towards it, trying to hold back the contents of her stomach that tried to make its way back up. She stumbled and fell just a few inches shy of the steps leading up to the front stoop, the cold from the snow around her seeping through her thin T-shirt and tattered jeans.
She knew she was too weak to stand again, so she just turned herself over so she could look at the cloudy sky. It was supposed to snow tonight. She wondered when it would start as her blood dyed the snow around her red.
She smiled a small smile as it started to snow, almost surprised that the weatherman was right, before she let her eyes shut slowly. She whispered what sounded like an apology to someone in a foreign language before she let the darkness consume her.
A few minutes later, the door to the house opened and the light from the doorway illuminated the ground and the girl. Someone gasped and yelled inside for help before running down the stairs and gently picking the girl in strong arms, running back inside. "Who is she?" asked a woman of African descent, her hair as white as the snow outside.
"Dunno." The man who held her replied, ignoring the blood that was soaking into his clothes as he carried her down to the medical room in the mansion. "She was outside. I don't think she'll make it."
The two worked quickly, cleaning the girl and hooking her up to machines while stitching the wound on her side and a few on her head. She looked to be about fifteen with an athletic figure and short, messy pale blond hair. She was covered in scars of mysterious origins, some looking like they could come from a whip and others from a blade and still others were obvious burns. "My God." The white haired woman gasped. "This poor child."
The man growled before turning when the door opened and a man in a wheelchair rolled in. "What's wrong, Logan?" he asked before the other man, now known as Logan, nodded in the direction of the unconscious girl. "Oh my."
"She was outside, just an inch or two from the front stairs. It's a miracle she's alive." Logan said. "There was a blood trail leading into the woods. Probably an animal attack."
"What animal can give her those kinds of scars?" The white haired woman asked. "It was probably an escape plan gone wrong."
"Either way, she'll need constant watch until she's stable." The man in the wheelchair said, reaching a hand forward to brush some hair out of the girl's face.
Her pale hand shot forward and grabbed the man's wrist before sitting bolt upright and then scrambling to get away from the three, jumping off the table to the other side of the room in one fluid motion.
She stood against the wall in a fighting position, the look in her eyes like that of a cornered animal. The four stared at each other, the three older ones paying close attention to her mismatched eyes. Her right was a navy blue and her left was a pale orange. The man in the wheelchair put his arms up in a gesture to show that he wasn't going to hurt her. "We mean you no harm." He said. Her eyes flitted from him to the other two before looking around the room for possible escape routes and then back to him to repeat the pattern. "What is your name?"
Her breathing slowed as she stared at him, a puzzled expression on her face. She then let out a string of words in another language. Logan and the woman had no idea what she said, but the man in the wheel chair just nodded to himself. "She's speaking Russian." He told the other two.
"Please, do not be alarmed. We mean you no harm." He told her in her language. "My name is Charles Xavier. This is my home. The man next to me is Logan and the woman is Ororo Munroe. They found you and bandaged you up. Please calm down. We will not hurt you."
The girl snorted. "Like I haven't heard that one before. Why should I believe you?"
"Why would I bring you in here and have you bandaged up if I didn't want to help?"
"Because you get some sick satisfaction from it. Everyone else seems to."
He stared into her guarded eyes and saw that she believed him but her self-preservation instincts ruled out her want to believe him. When she saw him wince and his eyes soften with a look of understanding her gaze softened as well. "However, you do not seem like that kind of man." She said, her stance relaxing slightly.
Xavier nodded before motioning for her to lie back down on the table. She took a step forward before stumbling due to her broken leg. However, when Logan made a move to help her she hissed at him, showing rather large fangs as her eyes flashed bright orange. He put his hands up and backed away as she regained her footing and limping to the table, her eyes back to their natural colors and the fangs shrinking back into her gums.
She sat on the table, her guard up as her eyes started darting around the room again. "We're not going to hurt you." Xavier repeated. "What is your name?"
The girl shifted uncomfortably before staring at the wall between Ororo and Xavier. "Svetlana."
"Well, Svetlana, do you speak English?"
The girl shook her head before flinching at the pain it caused. "Where are my clothes?"she asked, not liking the paper gown they had put her in.
Xavier motioned to a chair against the wall, her clothes folded and placed there with her boots placed underneath the chair. The dagger that she normally hid in her right boot was resting on top of her clothes. "Hiding your weapon in you boot is effective but a little risky. Why is the blade made of silver?" he asked.
"Silver kills them."
"Who?"
"The ones who chase me. The ones who hurt me."
He looked at her thoughtfully. "How old are you, Svetlana?"
"Thirteen."
"Where are your parents?"
He knew he hit a sore spot when she flinched and hissed at him, her fangs bared and eyes orange. "That is none of your business!" she yelled.
He nodded, trying not to anger her. "You're right. I apologize." She seemed to visibly calm down. Her fangs receded but her eyes remained orange, showing that she was still upset. "Tell me, do you know about mutants?"
She snorted and crossed her arms and he heard her mumble something about half-breeds before nodding. "Yes I do. I have met many in my travels. Are you one?"
"Yes. I am a telepath. Logan has regenerative abilities and Ororo can control the weather. Are you a mutant as well?"
She shook her head again, ignoring the pain it caused. "I am not." She replied. Xavier couldn't tell if she was lying or not. She had erected a strong mental barrier when she awoke. He didn't expect her to open up right now.
"Please let Ororo take care of you." He said. "Once you are healed, you can leave. I don't feel comfortable letting you go in your condition, especially on Christmas."
The girl nodded, not knowing what Christmas was but deciding to roll with it. She looked up at the white haired woman with untrusting eyes before looking back at the wall. Xavier smiled at her before he and Logan left, leaving the two females alone.
A WEEK LATER
The Professor had gone out and gotten Svetlana a Russian to English CD set and a CD player for her to listen to and learn from. Logan left shortly after she awoke and Xavier told her it was normal for him. He would be back most likely for Thanksgiving. Lana once again didn't understand the holiday but just shrugged and went back to listening to the CDs.
That was how Scott and Jean found her when they got back from Christmas break. Ororo explained the situation to them as she led them down the hall to the Medical room. "I should warn you, she doesn't trust easily and her English isn't good. She just started learning it two days ago."
The two teens nodded before she opened the door, revealing Svetlana sitting on the examination table listening to the CDs. Ororo got her attention and she looked up to see the other two. She immediately became guarded, though not as much as she was when she first woke up. Ororo introduced the two. "This is Scott and Jean." She said, speaking slowly so Svetlana could register the words and their meanings. She nodded a greeting before looking back at Ororo. "They live here. Xavier teaches them how to control their powers."
Svetlana's eyes looked at the two slightly older teens. The girl, Jean, seemed kind and accepting while the boy, Scott, looked like he didn't know what to think about her being there. She pointed to herself. "Svetlana." She said as an introduction. "Is nice to be meeting you." She spoke slowly, trying to make the words sound right before looking at Ororo for confirmation that she said it correctly. The woman nodded and a smile graced Svetlana's face.
"May we call you Lana?" Jean asked.
The girl looked at her for a brief moment before nodding. "Da. Is nice."
The two other teens smiled. They had a feeling that the three of them would be good friends.