There were only two things on my mind that Saturday: FroYo and Doctor Who binge.
Studying abroad in Great Britain, though quite fun at times, was stressful to say the least.
It was about to get a lot more stressful.
Let me explain a few things first: my name is Crystal. I was seventeen years old at the time— still lingering in the void between childhood and adulthood, not ignorant to the world around me, but not nearly as perceptive as I am now. The funny thing about that Saturday night— and I can still remember it distinctly— was that I was wishing for something in my life to happen, for someone to sweep me off my feet and take me away from my so typical, so boring life. I'm still not sure if I'm glad things turned out the way they did, or if I would be better off if I had never gotten my wish.
Actually, "typical" isn't a perfectly accurate word to describe my life. It never is when you have the X chromosome in your DNA. Oh yeah, I forgot to mention that part. I'm a mutant, but shhh! don't tell anyone. I like to have a life outside of superpowers, ya know. And I like to surprise people with my power if I get in a fight. Once, these guys tried to mug me, so I used my powers on them and they though they were seeing things. They ran like Hell, needless to say.
I guess now I should explain my powers. I can form ice from my body, yes like Elsa. But I can't make it snow or anything. That's one thing Elsa can do that I can't.
I was crying over yet another lost Doctor's companion, so hard that I spilled my FroYo, which I had made myself. I heard a creaking of the kitchen floor and assumed my only friend/ temporary legal guardian while my parents were still in America, Linda had come home early. I headed for the kitchen to clean up the FroYo and to greet Linda.
And that's when I faced my demon.
The first thing my mind registered was that there was an intruder in my house. The second was that the intruder had bright crimson skin and held a deadly sword. My fingertips turned cold for a split second, and then I ran.
Of course, as I later learned, running from a teleporter is never effective. I was astounded when he appeared again in front of me. "What the Hell?" I said, as I knew I was in deep trouble. I guess my fist fight-or-flight instinct was to run, but as I said, that wasn't working. Time for a fight. Back then, my powers had gone, for the most part, unused, at least not in this kind of situation. I was mainly used to forming snowballs and similar objects in my hands, so trying to use my powers to ward off an attacker was rough at first. I shot a weak burst of snow and ice at the devilish man. Unfortunately, this did almost nothing to slow him. He merely seemed a bit curious and amused by my powers. AND THAT PISSED ME OFF.
As strange as this sounds, I didn't want that guy to think I was some wimpy, little child, even if he was breaking into my home. I then conjured a greater stream of frost and blasted it at him. This seemed to catch him off-guard. He was knocked back a few steps and I tried to run again because I didn't know what else to do at that point. I wanted to put up a good fight, but I wasn't stupid enough to think I could take on that imposingly huge, at least six-foot-four man with a sword.
After those few short moments of distraction, he caught up to me again. He grasped his great arms around me. He was so strong I knew there was no hope of me simply pulling myself free, so I tried to freeze his arms. The frost began to cover his elegant black suit (I was a bit sad about ruining such a beautiful garment). He loosened his grip just a little, giving me just enough room to slip free.
That's when I first heard him speak. He muttered just one word. "Clever," he said, and I could hear that Russian accent. His silver sword gleamed in the light. That was my next priority: to try to get the sword away from him. I sent one more blast of ice out, this time aimed for the sword. The sword became covered in frost, and the demon-like man dropped it. Yes!
Then the man teleported behind me and grabbed me again. I tried to freeze him again, but then my vision became foggy and my head heavy. I felt his warm breath run down my neck as my eyelids began to drop. Finally, I heard his deep voice saying, "You've got fight," and that's the last thing I remember.
Author's note: This story takes place in an alternate universe in which Azazel is not dead, as discovered in Days of Future Past. I apologize in advance. I am currently working on several stories and may not be able to update very often. Anyway, I hope you enjoy the story. I must warn that there is some semi-mature content in later chapters, so proceed with caution. There will also be a Nightcrawler appearance later. Feel free to leave reviews if you want. Enjoy!