This is an Original Character that I created. Later on if I continue to write, he will join some characters. The X-men, and all Marvel characters belong to them, not me. This is my first story, so go easy on me and tell me what you think. Thanks.
My name is Gabriel Mors. My story started four years ago. It was my 13th birthday and everything was going great almost everyone in my grade from school came. We were at my house swimming, jumping on my trampoline, dancing to music, just regular kid party stuff. When it got later though we decided it was time to go inside and open my presents, I got some great stuff. An Ipod, video games, everything a kid could ask for to bad it was going to be a waste. That's when everything turned around, we all went inside my house. It was time for the cake. It was so huge, my brother and my dad had to carry it both standing on each side. The thing was covered in white candles, there had to be a hundred, and in the very middle was 13 red candles. It was going to take a lot to put out 113 candles, right. So I stretched my chest out as far as I could and took in as much air as I could and then blew out.
When I blew out though, it wasn't the same air that I took in, it was smoke. I blew a dark blackish grey smoke everywhere . It ran right into my dad and brothers face and they dropped the cake, the cake with the 113 candles, right on the floor that was completely covered in wrapping paper and it all ignited instantly. Everyone could feel the heat but didn't know which way to go. The house was on fire and everyone was blinded by the smoke. I don't really know who survived, not many, not my family. I was one of the first to catch on fire. It tingled at first, hurt a little but then it stopped, I could feel my body disappearing as the smoke instantly climbed up it. I was dead, or I thought I was. I didn't have a body, but I could hear everyone screaming, pleading for their lives. Looking for a door or a window so they could get away. Someone must have got out sometime because I could feel it. I could feel an opening in the smoke. I had to get out, I had to tell someone to call the firemen, call someone to help us. After I got outside away from the trapped smoke I felt a tingling again and felt like I was disappearing but I reached out and got more smoke and pulled myself together. Back into a person.
It was a tough year or two after that, I ran away. I knew everyone was dead, I heard them. I couldn't go back, but I heard news about the disaster. They said a lot of people escaped, a lot more people than I thought anyway. But it didn't matter, my family was dead. Dead because I killed them. I never used my mutant powers that much after my 13th birthday party.
I didn't kill anybody again after that until 4 months later. I was at some hotel in Jersey. When some thug came after me. By then I was pretty familiar with the streets, doing a few petty crimes here and there, to make some cash. I never tried to stay in the same place for to long, but I knew where to find someone who needed work done. Anyway, the guy comes after me with a knife telling me he was going to make me his. I took off and he chased me. I was almost at the end of the alley when I tripped. Lucky me. With the guy right above me, I stuck out my hand and remembered the feeling I had when I blew out smoke for the first time, then it just erupted from my hand and blinded him. It must have been a week blast, and I didn't really know what I was doing. He raised up his hand and called me a "fucking freak," and something different happened. I could feel my anger inside me, as I still held my hand out. Then he dropped the knife and clenched his hands to his throat, smoke was pouring out of his mouth, nose, and ears. By the time I realized what I was doing it was to late for him and he was dead.