Wack! Wack!

It was almost a month later when the pounding on my bedroom door sends me into a fury of rapid heartbeat and tingly limbs. "Yeah?" I call. When no one answers, I think maybe it was dream induced. My heart slows down and I'm just about back to sleep when.

Wack!

"¡mierda!"I say below my breath, now laying completely still. If it's the MRD at my door, I'm done for.

Wack! Wack! Wack!

But why would to MRD be knocking? If they had the intention of taking me, they wouldn't be knocking. They'd be busting the door down and shooting lasers everywhere or something. So when there is another pound on the door, I slip from bed and pad across the carpet. "Yes?" I call again.

I'm answered by more knocking.

I turn the doorknob and… I'm almost beheaded by a flying piece of wood.

"What the hell!" I scream, ducking just in time for the debris to soar over my head and slam against the wall, splintering into thousands of tiny pieces.

The entire hallway is filled with the same thing. Pieces of wood and plaster airborne. Spinning haphazardly throughout the corridor. Now that the door's open, I can hear panicked voices, yelling back to each other with commands. I come to one conclusion. It's a tornado.

In my confusion, I forget everything I was taught in school on tornado safety and find myself running out into the hall, bent down and covering my head with my arms. I stumble several times until I finally fall flat on my face.

I'm going to die. Debris flies overhead, crashing into each other and the other ancient artifacts that fill the hall. I try to get up, but don't want to risk getting my head taken off by the chaos. I end up army crawling away, my face pressed against the dusty carpet.

"Artemis!" I feel someone grabbing me and pulling me to my feet. Then something pulls at the pit of my stomach, my feet leave the ground, and everything goes black. My feet hit the ground again and my knees buckle below me. Did I just die?

I'm in someone's bedroom. It smells strongly of tween boy body spray and dirty laundry. I heave, but surprisingly don't vomit. Not because of the scent, but because of vertigo that overswept me.

"Wha…." I cannot get any words out.

"Sorry," Tyrone says, kneeling next to me, "I teleported us out. It may have some, uh, lasting effects on you."

"What was that?" I ask.

"Nathaniel lost control of his powers," He explains, standing up and offering me his hand. I hesitate, but finally, grab his clammy hand with mine and stand up. My legs wobble underneath me and I fall into him. He grabs me and leads me to his messy bed.

My arms burn from splinters and scratches, and specks of blood raise from under the surface, clotting the cuts.

"That… That was madness!" How could something so chaotic come from Nathaniel? That calm, collected kid?

"That was telekinesis," Tyrone sits down beside me and flops backward, covering his face with his arm, "Poor kid."

I cross my legs, my head starting to slow its spinning. Out in the hall, the debris was still crashing into everything, which then resulted in new debris. This whole floor would be trashed before it stopped.

A puff of smoke fills the room. Coughing on it, I scoot back in the bed, like the five inches would keep me from any demon that would attack. But Illyana is the only one who emerges, Laikyn clinging to her.

"Artemis!" Illyana exclaims! "We went to your room to get you since you're the closest one to Nathaniel. You weren't there."

Laikyn nods, "we were worried he disintegrated you," she says. Illyana wrinkles her nose.

"Wait, what?"

Tyrone sits up and runs a hand through his dreads, "Nathaniel's telekinesis is off the charts. He takes after his mom. The Professor supposedly put some type of mind-blockers in his head to keep his evil side from escaping, but it uh, didn't work apparently."

Laikyn shivers. She's as pale as a ghost, and her wide eyes are tear-shining. "Nathaniel isn't evil." She corrects. "Awhile ago, Dr. Grey lost control too. It was bad. Really bad. Worse than this. It took her months to recover, apparently. But she isn't evil. And neither is Nathaniel."

"Nate doesn't even know what happening, probably," Illyana tells us, perching herself on the stand by the bed. "He told me once that he will lose control when he's asleep because he isn't focusing on his powers. Usually, it's just little bursts of power though, maybe enough to shake his room or pull books from the shelf. Never anything like this."

Another knock on the door. It had happened so many times that it didn't even phase me until a voice follows. It's Ms. Munroe's. "You four can come out now." She says, "Dr. Grey would like to speak with you."

We all exchange looks. Her son's powers just went ballistic and she wants to talk to us?

So we all file out of Tyrone's room, where Ms. Munroe stands. Like I assumed, the hallway is completely trashed. Holes are punched in the wall, statues lay headless or without a pillar, bookshelves are thrown without regards to the items inside. The whole area is just one big dust cloud. I can tell now why I thought it was a tornado.

"Is Nathaniel okay?" Laikyn asks, shakily.

"Professor Xavier and Dr. Grey were able to establish the barriers that keep his powers in check. He's in the infirmary under close monitoring now." She says, softly as she leads us through the maze of debris. Some teachers were helping students relocate for the night, and others are already cleaning up and repairing the damage.

Ms. Munroe takes us down, via crowded elevator, to the sub-basement. The sound of hushed voices is coming from an open door.

We are lead into a hospital wing. Dr. Grey and Mr. Summers are discussing something. Behind them, Nathaniel is laying on a metal exam table. Electroid tabs are stuck over his temple and forehead, the monitors above him are going ballistic, the sharp zigzag lines are skinny and go completely to the top and bottom of the screen. The EKG's beeps angrily like it's about to explode. The entire situation was dire, but this seemed straight out of a sci-fi movie.

"Ah, Ororo. Thank you!" Dr. Grey exclaims with an expectant look towards Mr. Summers. "Come out into the hall. Ororo can you keep an eye on Nate?"

The group of us stand in the hallway, Illyana and Laikyn holding hands while Tyrone leans against the wall and I stand awkwardly straight, holding my hands behind my back to hide their shaking.

"So, since you are Nate's group of friends, we wanted to let you know what's going on," Dr. Grey says, "Nate isn't a normal kid. Or a normal mutant at that. He was, uh, for lack of a better term, built in a lab."

Tyrone jumps up straight, "Are you kidding me?" He demands.

"I wish," Mr. Summers says., "A while ago there was this man who was bent on world domination. He took our, Dr. Grey and my, DNA and well… Nate was made. We found him and it took a while to get all the programmed stuff processed out but by the time his first birthday, or what we estimated his birthday to be, rolled around."

"So what? He's a robot or something?" Ilyana asks.

"Clone," I correct, despite my disgust. "Robot would suggest that he is a machine, where in reality he is flesh and bone."

"First sheep, now dinosaurs and people," Tyrone shakes his head, "How many movies have to come out for people to realize that cloning is not a good thing?"

"Does Nate know this?" Laikyn asks.

"No," Dr. Grey says, "We thought it best to keep it from him so that he could be a normal kid. Unfortunately, we had overlooked the fact that hardwired control that we thought we destroyed still resides in his mind. It's taken over again and now that he has his powers he is basically unstoppable."

Unstoppable? That is not what I wanted to hear. Well, none of this is necessarily something I want to hear, but the term Unstoppable made it sound like Nathaniel was out to control.

Only one question resides in my mind; What have we gotten ourselves into?

To Be Continued...

Author's notes: I have not given up on this story yet! However I am struggling to find inspiration, so if you have any ideas I would love to hear it!" xoxoxo