A pale skinned boy pushed the double doors open, leaving the heated comfort of the movie theater behind as he stepped into the freezing, deserted street of Bayville. The cold didn't seem to bother this teen as much as it would any other. His lower body was clothed in baggy green pants and red sneakers, while his upper body was covered by a t-shirt and an unzipped black hoodie. But these articles of clothing were not the only things keeping him warm. Unseen to any others, thanks to his wrist watch, his entire body was covered in blue fur.
Kurt stuffed his hands into his pockets. Despite his jacket and fur, it was still uncomfortably chilly out there. To make matters worse, the Sun disappeared beyong the horizon, making it even colder. Had he seen that movie a month earlier, he would have simply teleported back to the institute without a second thought. Unfortunately, Professor Xavier had advised all of the students to avoid using their powers out in the open at all costs. He told them that if word ever made its way to the school board that one of them had used their power in public, they would be expelled from school, being considered "threats".
The mansion is about three miles away, Kurt reminded himself, wondering how long it would take him to get there. It was about ten, considering the length of the movie he had seen and the time it started. If he kept up this pace, he would probably get home at about ten forty-five. This would be past his curfew, but he didn't care. It was already past the nine o' clock curfew that Xavier assigned, so it didn't make much difference when he made it home now. But for the sake of his punishment, he turned down an alley that would let him get to the mansion about ten minutes earlier.
Even Kurt knew that going down an alley in the dead of night was asking for trouble. At least it was in the movies he had seen. In his case, however, he was willing to take the chance. Bad move, Wagner. The alley was about fifty feet long and ten feet wide. When he was nearing the other end, a strong arm wrapped itself around his neck and then flung him onto the concrete ground. He cried out in pain. For a normal person, this would not have hurt too much, but Kurt had landed on his tail, one of the most sensitive parts on his body.
"Man, if that hurt, you must be one weak mutie." So the guy must have recognized him from school. He was obviously much older than Kurt though, perhaps being held back for a year or three. Evidently he was only aware that Kurt was a mutant in general, unknowing of his fur or tail. It was too dark to make out any of the attacker's features, other than that he was a bit taller than Kurt and much stockier. Before he knew what had happened, two other thugs launched themselves at the helpless victim, both holding an arm flat against the ground.
The first attacker sat on Kurt's chest, causing him to yell and gasp for breath. Snik. A long object gleamed in the dull moonlight. Kurt recognized it immediately. A switchblade knife. "Why don't you use your powers, mutie?" one of the gangsters mocked. He longed to teleport away, but he knew that one of these men would run straight to Principal Kelly, making up a story that told of Kurt attacking the three, using his powers to mug them, or something of the sort. Kurt could do nothing but watch as the gleaming blade was lowered toward his face . . .
Back at the mansion, several of the young mutants were seated in armchairs in the living room, waiting impatiently for Kurt to arrive. This group included Jean, Scott, Evan, Rogue, and Kitty.
"I can't believe this!" Scott yelled, causing the rest of them to jump in surprise. "He's missed his curfew every day since the beginning of Christmas Break! When I get my hands on that elf, I'm gonna . . . ARGH!" He ended his rant with a grunt of frustration and slumped down into his chair, crossing his arms.
"This just isn't like Kurt," Jean said, much more calmly than Scott. "It's like you said, he's missed his curfew every day for the past week. Something must be going on with him."
"He's probably just, like, still getting used to the fact that everyone knows he's a mutant now," Kitty pointed out, trying to stick up for him a bit. "Look, I'll take the X Van and do a quick lap around the street. If I don't see him by then, I'll come back and get you guys. Then we can all go looking for him." Everyone seemed to agree with this and she headed toward the foyer. It was the fastest way to get to the garage, and she wanted to spend as little time as possible in the bitter cold.
Putting on a jacket, she phased through the door and ascended the steps two at a time, wanting the warmth of the heater more and more every second. When she was halfway down the driveway, her foot hit something soft, causing her to trip and fall onto the pavement. Thankfully she had been able to catch herself and not do any damage. Kitty huffed annoyedly. "Who leaves the garbage out in the middle of the driveway? When I find out who did this, they're-". She froze as the "trash bag" moaned, then expanded a bit.
"Kurt?" Kitty began to laugh, having been quite worried about the blue boy for a while. "Kurt, the yard is no place for a nap at a time like this." She reached over and rolled him over to face her. "You . . ." She once again stopped abruptly as a horrible site met her eyes. Without a second thought, she somehow managed the strength and will to heave Kurt's limp body into her arms, dragging his feet on the ground as she carried him toward the front door.
The teenagers in the living room jumped as they heard the foyer door slam shut with a bang. Scott rose and headed toward the source of the sound. A familiar person ran straight past him. "Hey, Kitty, what are you doing back already?" He then noticed the limp form in her arms. "Oh my god . . ." Kitty ran straight into the living room without a word. After Evan had quickly moved from his seat on the couch to make room, she gingerly set Kurt's body there and backed away, her lips trembling as if she were about to cry. Their mouths were all hanging open as they saw what had been done to him.
Kurt's clothes were torn in several different places, obviously by a blade. There were cuts all over his face, leaving his blue fur to be tinted purple from blood. On his white t-shirt, the word FREAK was written cruedly in blood.
"LOGAN!" Scott screamed at the top of his lungs.
