She woke up to the smell of burning flesh; it worked its way up into her nose. She came to with a start, jumping up in the bed. As her body moved forward the singed skin fell away, revealing soft, white, creamy skin underneath. She tried to remember the last time she had burned her entire body, head to toe, but could not remember despite the feeling that this was not the first time it had happened. She reached up to scratch her hair and was startled to find that she was bald, or at least close to being bald. The hairs that were on her head were short and reminded her of what rubbing a porcupine must feel like.
She took a moment to think on where she was; when an answer did not come she quickly rose from the bed. She was in a hospital, a new one from the looks of it. She was surrounded by white walls and floors, stateless steel that was not even marked with fingerprints. Flashbacks of flooded through her brain of every time she had ever been locked up and treated like an experiment. She wanted out.
An eerie feeling worked its way into her. She couldn't remember where she was or how she had gotten her. Nor could she remember what she had been doing for the last few days. The most recent memory she had was of leaving work, and she had a feeling that that was more than a few days ago.
She stood for a moment in complete silence, listening, waiting. Where was she? The last thing she could remember was running through the Tennessee wilderness.
The sound of footsteps filled her ears and she panicked. Looking around there were no weapons in the room. No needles, or knifes, no blunt objects she could throw if she had to. She looked to her left, nothing. Then, to her right, there was a chair. Quickly she pulled it towards herself and grabbed the back of it, prepared to fling it at whoever walked through the doors.
The doors opened automatically and she threw the chair blindly before jumping over the two figures that now lay on the floor. The hallway was similar to the hospital room, white and spotless, bits of stainless steel used as knobs and handrails. There was an elevator on her left, and a long hallway that ended with a dead end on her right. She got in the elevator.
"Elizabeth!"
The door to the elevator closed and she froze.
They knew her name. They knew who she was; probably what she was capable of. And she, she remembered nothing.
Ding.
The doors opened and she bolted. While running she observed everything around her, trying to take away as much information as possible. She wasn't in a hospital anymore, or she had never been in a hospital. Her surroundings told her she was in some sort of old house, probably a mansion based on the sheer size of the hallway she was running through alone. Old, very old, and very expensive.
"Elizabeth, stop! We wanna help! Stop running!" She didn't look back to see who was calling her. She could hear their footsteps advancing towards her, their breathing louder in her ears.
She took a sharp right. Panic quickly worked its way through her veins. She was running out of hallway, a dead end with only a glass window was in front of her. She knew what she had to do if she wanted to escape her captors.
50 feet. 40 feet. 30 feet. 20 feet.
She jumped, throwing her arms up over her face, the glass shattered around her. She was grateful she was only on the first floor, and landed rolling onto the grass. Quickly she got back onto her feet and continued to run, ignoring the shards of glass stuck in her arms.
Soon she was running through some sort of park. Or that's what it looked like. Kids were at play on a basketball court or running through fields. Some sat and talked with friends, others ate alone in silence. But as she ran there was one thing she noticed.
The one boy ran faster than humanly possible, along the surface of water. Another would disappear and then reappear five feet away. A girl running through the fields would jump to ridiculous heights every few steps. An older boy stood in front of a group of kids, juggling chunks of ice all while changing the shape of the inanimate objects every time he touched them. She was surrounded by mutants. Mutant children to be more specific.
"Bobby! Kitty! Stop her!" The same voice from before when she was running through the mansion filled her ears.
She pumped her legs faster, willing herself to outrun her captors. They ran after her, the situation getting out of their control.
Control. At this moment she had control of the situation. She knew she was being chased, knew she could outrun them. The fear of hurting people was flushed from her mind. In this moment she thrived.
Her legs moved more quickly than they ever had before. She pushed herself harder, sucking in oxygen to fuel her lungs, pumping her arms; she propelled herself forward away from her captors and the children around them.
Before she knew what was happening she fell to the ground. Crushed by one of her captors.
How had they been fast enough? How had someone caught her?
Her mind jumped to moments before.
The boy that was running faster even then she had ever seen, the girl that had jumped higher than all the rest, the boy that could teleport from one spot to another. It could have been any of those children.
But, when the scent of cigar smoke, alcohol, and pine filled her nostrils she knew it was no kid that caught her. She looked immediately to the left and then to her right: claws. Three long, sharp claws were keeping her from moving her head more then and inch in either direction. Looking out of the corner of her eye she saw a man kneeling over her, a half smoked cigar in his mouth. He was breathing slowly; a thin veil of sweat covered his forehead.
She hadn't thought of anyone coming at her from the woods, she hadn't thought of that scenario as a possibility.
She became frustrated as the sun pushed out from behind the clouds beating down on her and the man above her. The temperature seemed to rise in mere seconds. Everyone outside broke out into an immediate sweat.
"Got her, Storm." The man said. Nodding his head at a young man who could not have been more than 25 years old he simply said: "Iceman."
She felt the cold cover her body, all the way up to her shoulders.
"What's going on? Where am I?" She said, trying to wiggle her way out of the ice cocoon.
"Elizabeth, welcome to Charles Xavier's School for Gifted Youngsters." It was the same voice from the hospital. "Please, try not to run away this time, we want to help. You need to understand that. We do not want to hurt you, okay?" The woman speaking to Elizabeth was tall with a head full of shoulder length white hair, but her body was young, her beautiful blue eyes made sure you knew how young she was despite the color of her hair. "My names Ororo Munroe but please call me Storm." She looked to the boy standing at Elizabeth's feet, his hand gripping her ankle. His hands were blue from the layer of ice he had spread over Elizabeth's body. "Bobby, could you please unfreeze her."
When his hands left her skin the thin layer of ice that had formed on her skin melted away, surprisingly enough leaving her as dry as she was before she had been entrapped in her ice cocoon.
"Logan, if you don't mind I would like to speak with our new friend." Storm said, this time speaking with the man who was crouched over her. With a huff and then a grunt he pulled his claws that from the ground around Elizabeth's head and walked away grumbling to himself.
"Come with me Elizabeth and I'll explain everything." Storm helped Elizabeth from the ground before motioning for her to follow her inside of the mansion.
