Chapter 1
The young man sat in the hiding place, a twisted knot of tree branches and bushes, and looked towards his quarry, far away and yet very close. The warmth of the rain was strange for him, as he came from far up north, where rain was always accompanied by frost and ice the following morning. He looked out to the mansion again, seeing it far in the distance, looming above the trees like some sacred monolith. He looked around again, and then darted out of his hiding place toward the mansion. He stopped again near another hiding place he had spotted previously, and then blew on his hands, which were covered in gloves. In fact, every square inch of the teenager was covered in clothing, thick, woollen and tight. He looked out again, and the lights from the mansion shone on his goggles which covered his eyes. The balaclava which covered his mouth like a muffler acted to make his words almost unhearable in the dashing rain and the 'plops' of rain falling off the trees, but the words still made it out of his mouth.
"Almost there, almost there…"
There was only one reason he was hiding, for he had seen a young man darting between the trees earlier. He was making sure he wasn't within seeing distance in any direction. He HAD to see Professor Xavier.
He remembered travelling here, and remembered the reason why he had come here. They were painful to remember, but he held onto them anyway, the remnants of his old life…
It had been but a few months ago, when he was at home and celebrating his 16th birthday with his family. He could almost taste the sweet taste of his cake now, the blue icing, the fresh, home-made jam which has mother had made the previous week. He had wondered where she had been then, when he needed her, and instead had been greeted by his cruel, mutant-hating father. His mother. How he wished he was home to look after her. His father was probably still telling lies to her about his 'runaway act'. His father was tall, strongly built, with dark brown hair which was long and tied in a ponytail at the back. He was a mechanic, and he spent many a day under a car before coming home. Or so the family had thought.
He knew better. He had walked to his fathers workshop on one occasion, to surprise him, but he saw him in a backroom. The lights were dim, but he could still make out through the keyhole a banner in faded red paint; 'FOH – THE TRUE FRIENDS OF HUMANITY!' That had really boiled him up. They were a new racist group, the Friends of Humanity, almost as bad as the Ku Klux Klan, who despised and hated mutants, and tried to rid the world of them. He was now himself a mutant, but then one of his best friends at school had been one, a very minor one, but a mutant none the less. He had always wondered why his father had detested his friends.
After he saw the flag, the light in the room went off. Puzzled, he tried to see more, but then his father had walked out the door. His ponytail had bounced as he stormed in the room, saw his son at the keyhole, then proceeded to scream at him.
"WHAT DO YOU THINK YOU'RE DOING YOU RATNOSED LITTLE WEASEL!! NOSING INTO OTHER PEOPLE'S BUSINESS? I'LL GIVE YOU WHAT YOU DESERVE, MY SON!!" He had followed his word, and had lashed him within an inch of his life, chasing him down to the end of the street. Him and his father had never got on well, but now it was almost arctic temperatures whenever they were in a room together. He had made up an excuse to his mother about his bruising, as he knew she loved him very much, but he had almost spilled the beans when his father arrived home. He clapped him on the shoulder and had said, "Well, Boys will be boys, eh, Margaret?"
Five days after he had had his birthday, his Mutancy began to show. His father found out the first day he arrived home, and had proceeded to beat him relentlessly for daring to be one. He had run away four days afterward, unable to take anymore, and had hitched a lift down towards California. He knew that was where Xavier lived, he knew, as his name and face had been on the new recently. His father had always called him a 'mutant loving freak', and he had never dared protest. His mother must be frantic now.
He shook his head, perhaps to get rid of the memories of his past, but they painfully stayed there. He shook his head again, then dashed up to the front door of the looming mansion in front of him. As he ran up to the door, the rain lashing down against his back, his face twitched, as if he was struggling hard. A look of horror crossed his face, and he ran faster. He slammed into the door with his shoulder, full speed, but the door didn't budge. He rattled the door handle.
"Come ON, COME on!" he cried, rattling it harder.
Behind his frantic form, a shape was coming closer and taking form. A red flash from his glasses lit up the back of the boys head. He cried and turned round.
A man was standing behind him, not older than 19, with brown hair and a blue jacket on. He had brown jeans, and he couldn't see the colour of his eyes as they were covered by his red-tinted glasses.
"Stop! Stop there!" the kid cried.
The man pause where he was. The kid, breathing hard, looked bedraggled and more than worse for wear.
"Look, kid, I just want to get inside. Rain, see? Though you obviously don't get to touch most of it," he muttered, looking over his covered form. He inched closer.
"I said stay back! I mean it!" the kid cried.
"Alright, Alright!" He skipped back a bit. "So, is there any chance of me going to bed tonight? It's just that Jean already knows where I am…"
"I don't care! Just…stay…back…nnnnghhh…" the kid leaned forward, and lifted a hand to his goggles. "What the hell...? My eyes!"
The man darted forward, only to have the kid thrust his head up, his eyes glowing red even through the goggles.
"I…TOLD YOU…STAY BACK!!" The kids eyes flashed ruby once, and the man backed up.
The mansion was bathed in red as the kids goggles were blasted off his face. In his direct line of sight, the man turned and ran only to be hit in the back by an immense amount of power, and was blasted through the trees. Far away, there was a sickening thud.
The young man turned his head away from the man he had blasted, and his new power melted the door handle, and blasted the door off its hinges. He closed his eyes, and then peeked through with slitted eyes. No more ruby light appeared in his vision. He opened his eyes fully, and finally stepped through the door. He turned around, and picked his goggles off of the ground.
"I was sure thick clothing would help…" he groaned. Now he had to explain a potential murder to Professor Xavier. He turned towards the mansion, and entered. The furnishings of the place was exquisite. Well, Professor Xavier WAS the richest man in California, what did he expect? But… red carpet? Wasn't that for royalty? He sighed, turned…
And was face to face with a head sticking out the wall.
"Yikes!" he cried, and pulled his head back from the girls head. He could tell it was a girl as she walked through the wall more, yawning with her hand on her mouth and stretching. She wore a blue nightdress and no slippers, and her brown hair bounced on the back of her head like a basketball. Her blue eyes looked at him piercingly, making him sweat.
"I, I, I can explain," he babbled, as the girl looked at the door and at him.
"Well, if you can explain THAT clothing, you're better than I am. Don't, like, worry about the door, it kinda happens all the time!" The girl had a Californian accent, and looked mostly like the girls he had seen at the mall. They usually had the same type of personality too – looks but no brains. He groaned, thinking of how hard it would be to explain anything to this girl.
"Close your mouth, you fish, you'll totally catch flies! What's your name, anyway?" She looked at him quizzically. He held his breath…and fell through the floor up to his shoulders.
"Oh, that is so cool! I thought only I was, like, the one who could do that! I mean, it's so cool!" she squealed. He, on the other hand, was not so pleased. His clothes were crumpled, though they had phased through the floor with his body, and his muffler was almost strangling him.
"Any chance you could help me up here? This is kinda weird, having half my neck in the floor!"
"Oh – my – gosh! I am so selfish! Here-" She tugged on his arms really hard, and almost pulled off the top half of his body.
"OW ow ow ow ow! Stop! You're tearing me apart!" She crouched on the floor, and thought. "Well, usually I just take a deep breath to-"
"Right, thanks! Bye!" He gasped, before he slid through the rest of the floor, and fell into the room beyond. He heard her cry above him as he landed on all fours, "Wait! I didn't even ask your name! Oh, well," she tutted. Her footsteps moved off, and he crouched in the darkness, fully aware and at home in his surroundings. He saw the boxes and suitcases around him as if they were bathed in a milky white.
He looked around some more, and his eyes set upon the door. It looked a bit sophisticated, with a keypad next to it, and it looked like it slid apart like the doors on Star-trek. The keypad next to it seemed to be very simple, only 9 numbers. He smirked. This should be easy, he thought.
It was a little more difficult than he thought. He very quickly put in the right combination, but as soon as he had, a little pad next to the keypad lit up red and a voice said, "Please place left thumb on control pad to allow access." He placed it in the correct place, thinking it very similar to a government agency facility. It stayed red, as he had thought it would.
"Present person has not been entered into database. Access denied." He groaned as the computers voice faded away into the rest of the room.
"Oh, well, gave it a shot, OW!" he cried suddenly, as the thumb pad gave him an electric shock. He looked at the thumb pad curiously.
"Present person has not been entered into database. Access denied. Further inquiries without correct access code will be severely reprimanded." He removed his thumb. He didn't like this. Not one bit. He sat down on a box and waited.
After maybe half an hour of thinking and scheming, he suddenly heard someone singing coming closer to the door:
"(anyone know German? Put in the 'Great Escape' tune here. In German, of course!)!" He jumped off of his box and pounded on the door.
"Hello? Who's that? Is anyone there? Can you get me outta here? It's cold and dark in here!" He scratched his head. It had seemed good to say at the time, (every person in a dark room says it), but it just sounded petty from where he stood. He waited, watching the door with anticipation.
"Vat? Keety, are you in there? You can just phase out!" a guy with a severe German accent answered.
He decided to play along. "Well, I can't get out! Open the door, will ya?"
"Fine, fine, just wait there. If this is another of your stupid tricks…" he muttered.
"No, no, it's nothing like that!" he said, and crossed his fingers. He looked at his fingers, as they felt weird. He stared in shock.
His whole hand was covered in short, fine blue hair, and his left and middle two fingers were…well, there was no better way to describe it, were melting together, and they had joined up to make only three fingers. He held it in front of his face, as he heard his trousers rip from a tail bursting from his trousers.
"What the…?!" he groaned, as he felt pressure in his head and flashed out of sight as Kurt, otherwise known as Nightcrawler, opened the door. He waved away the smoke and smell of sulphur with a three-fingered, blue hand, and coughed as he shouted out, "That's it, Keety! I'm just going to leave you there next time!" He paused before he turned, and remarked, "Nice stink- bomb, though," then walked off down the corridor, his tail swishing behind him.
The young man sat in the hiding place, a twisted knot of tree branches and bushes, and looked towards his quarry, far away and yet very close. The warmth of the rain was strange for him, as he came from far up north, where rain was always accompanied by frost and ice the following morning. He looked out to the mansion again, seeing it far in the distance, looming above the trees like some sacred monolith. He looked around again, and then darted out of his hiding place toward the mansion. He stopped again near another hiding place he had spotted previously, and then blew on his hands, which were covered in gloves. In fact, every square inch of the teenager was covered in clothing, thick, woollen and tight. He looked out again, and the lights from the mansion shone on his goggles which covered his eyes. The balaclava which covered his mouth like a muffler acted to make his words almost unhearable in the dashing rain and the 'plops' of rain falling off the trees, but the words still made it out of his mouth.
"Almost there, almost there…"
There was only one reason he was hiding, for he had seen a young man darting between the trees earlier. He was making sure he wasn't within seeing distance in any direction. He HAD to see Professor Xavier.
He remembered travelling here, and remembered the reason why he had come here. They were painful to remember, but he held onto them anyway, the remnants of his old life…
It had been but a few months ago, when he was at home and celebrating his 16th birthday with his family. He could almost taste the sweet taste of his cake now, the blue icing, the fresh, home-made jam which has mother had made the previous week. He had wondered where she had been then, when he needed her, and instead had been greeted by his cruel, mutant-hating father. His mother. How he wished he was home to look after her. His father was probably still telling lies to her about his 'runaway act'. His father was tall, strongly built, with dark brown hair which was long and tied in a ponytail at the back. He was a mechanic, and he spent many a day under a car before coming home. Or so the family had thought.
He knew better. He had walked to his fathers workshop on one occasion, to surprise him, but he saw him in a backroom. The lights were dim, but he could still make out through the keyhole a banner in faded red paint; 'FOH – THE TRUE FRIENDS OF HUMANITY!' That had really boiled him up. They were a new racist group, the Friends of Humanity, almost as bad as the Ku Klux Klan, who despised and hated mutants, and tried to rid the world of them. He was now himself a mutant, but then one of his best friends at school had been one, a very minor one, but a mutant none the less. He had always wondered why his father had detested his friends.
After he saw the flag, the light in the room went off. Puzzled, he tried to see more, but then his father had walked out the door. His ponytail had bounced as he stormed in the room, saw his son at the keyhole, then proceeded to scream at him.
"WHAT DO YOU THINK YOU'RE DOING YOU RATNOSED LITTLE WEASEL!! NOSING INTO OTHER PEOPLE'S BUSINESS? I'LL GIVE YOU WHAT YOU DESERVE, MY SON!!" He had followed his word, and had lashed him within an inch of his life, chasing him down to the end of the street. Him and his father had never got on well, but now it was almost arctic temperatures whenever they were in a room together. He had made up an excuse to his mother about his bruising, as he knew she loved him very much, but he had almost spilled the beans when his father arrived home. He clapped him on the shoulder and had said, "Well, Boys will be boys, eh, Margaret?"
Five days after he had had his birthday, his Mutancy began to show. His father found out the first day he arrived home, and had proceeded to beat him relentlessly for daring to be one. He had run away four days afterward, unable to take anymore, and had hitched a lift down towards California. He knew that was where Xavier lived, he knew, as his name and face had been on the new recently. His father had always called him a 'mutant loving freak', and he had never dared protest. His mother must be frantic now.
He shook his head, perhaps to get rid of the memories of his past, but they painfully stayed there. He shook his head again, then dashed up to the front door of the looming mansion in front of him. As he ran up to the door, the rain lashing down against his back, his face twitched, as if he was struggling hard. A look of horror crossed his face, and he ran faster. He slammed into the door with his shoulder, full speed, but the door didn't budge. He rattled the door handle.
"Come ON, COME on!" he cried, rattling it harder.
Behind his frantic form, a shape was coming closer and taking form. A red flash from his glasses lit up the back of the boys head. He cried and turned round.
A man was standing behind him, not older than 19, with brown hair and a blue jacket on. He had brown jeans, and he couldn't see the colour of his eyes as they were covered by his red-tinted glasses.
"Stop! Stop there!" the kid cried.
The man pause where he was. The kid, breathing hard, looked bedraggled and more than worse for wear.
"Look, kid, I just want to get inside. Rain, see? Though you obviously don't get to touch most of it," he muttered, looking over his covered form. He inched closer.
"I said stay back! I mean it!" the kid cried.
"Alright, Alright!" He skipped back a bit. "So, is there any chance of me going to bed tonight? It's just that Jean already knows where I am…"
"I don't care! Just…stay…back…nnnnghhh…" the kid leaned forward, and lifted a hand to his goggles. "What the hell...? My eyes!"
The man darted forward, only to have the kid thrust his head up, his eyes glowing red even through the goggles.
"I…TOLD YOU…STAY BACK!!" The kids eyes flashed ruby once, and the man backed up.
The mansion was bathed in red as the kids goggles were blasted off his face. In his direct line of sight, the man turned and ran only to be hit in the back by an immense amount of power, and was blasted through the trees. Far away, there was a sickening thud.
The young man turned his head away from the man he had blasted, and his new power melted the door handle, and blasted the door off its hinges. He closed his eyes, and then peeked through with slitted eyes. No more ruby light appeared in his vision. He opened his eyes fully, and finally stepped through the door. He turned around, and picked his goggles off of the ground.
"I was sure thick clothing would help…" he groaned. Now he had to explain a potential murder to Professor Xavier. He turned towards the mansion, and entered. The furnishings of the place was exquisite. Well, Professor Xavier WAS the richest man in California, what did he expect? But… red carpet? Wasn't that for royalty? He sighed, turned…
And was face to face with a head sticking out the wall.
"Yikes!" he cried, and pulled his head back from the girls head. He could tell it was a girl as she walked through the wall more, yawning with her hand on her mouth and stretching. She wore a blue nightdress and no slippers, and her brown hair bounced on the back of her head like a basketball. Her blue eyes looked at him piercingly, making him sweat.
"I, I, I can explain," he babbled, as the girl looked at the door and at him.
"Well, if you can explain THAT clothing, you're better than I am. Don't, like, worry about the door, it kinda happens all the time!" The girl had a Californian accent, and looked mostly like the girls he had seen at the mall. They usually had the same type of personality too – looks but no brains. He groaned, thinking of how hard it would be to explain anything to this girl.
"Close your mouth, you fish, you'll totally catch flies! What's your name, anyway?" She looked at him quizzically. He held his breath…and fell through the floor up to his shoulders.
"Oh, that is so cool! I thought only I was, like, the one who could do that! I mean, it's so cool!" she squealed. He, on the other hand, was not so pleased. His clothes were crumpled, though they had phased through the floor with his body, and his muffler was almost strangling him.
"Any chance you could help me up here? This is kinda weird, having half my neck in the floor!"
"Oh – my – gosh! I am so selfish! Here-" She tugged on his arms really hard, and almost pulled off the top half of his body.
"OW ow ow ow ow! Stop! You're tearing me apart!" She crouched on the floor, and thought. "Well, usually I just take a deep breath to-"
"Right, thanks! Bye!" He gasped, before he slid through the rest of the floor, and fell into the room beyond. He heard her cry above him as he landed on all fours, "Wait! I didn't even ask your name! Oh, well," she tutted. Her footsteps moved off, and he crouched in the darkness, fully aware and at home in his surroundings. He saw the boxes and suitcases around him as if they were bathed in a milky white.
He looked around some more, and his eyes set upon the door. It looked a bit sophisticated, with a keypad next to it, and it looked like it slid apart like the doors on Star-trek. The keypad next to it seemed to be very simple, only 9 numbers. He smirked. This should be easy, he thought.
It was a little more difficult than he thought. He very quickly put in the right combination, but as soon as he had, a little pad next to the keypad lit up red and a voice said, "Please place left thumb on control pad to allow access." He placed it in the correct place, thinking it very similar to a government agency facility. It stayed red, as he had thought it would.
"Present person has not been entered into database. Access denied." He groaned as the computers voice faded away into the rest of the room.
"Oh, well, gave it a shot, OW!" he cried suddenly, as the thumb pad gave him an electric shock. He looked at the thumb pad curiously.
"Present person has not been entered into database. Access denied. Further inquiries without correct access code will be severely reprimanded." He removed his thumb. He didn't like this. Not one bit. He sat down on a box and waited.
After maybe half an hour of thinking and scheming, he suddenly heard someone singing coming closer to the door:
"(anyone know German? Put in the 'Great Escape' tune here. In German, of course!)!" He jumped off of his box and pounded on the door.
"Hello? Who's that? Is anyone there? Can you get me outta here? It's cold and dark in here!" He scratched his head. It had seemed good to say at the time, (every person in a dark room says it), but it just sounded petty from where he stood. He waited, watching the door with anticipation.
"Vat? Keety, are you in there? You can just phase out!" a guy with a severe German accent answered.
He decided to play along. "Well, I can't get out! Open the door, will ya?"
"Fine, fine, just wait there. If this is another of your stupid tricks…" he muttered.
"No, no, it's nothing like that!" he said, and crossed his fingers. He looked at his fingers, as they felt weird. He stared in shock.
His whole hand was covered in short, fine blue hair, and his left and middle two fingers were…well, there was no better way to describe it, were melting together, and they had joined up to make only three fingers. He held it in front of his face, as he heard his trousers rip from a tail bursting from his trousers.
"What the…?!" he groaned, as he felt pressure in his head and flashed out of sight as Kurt, otherwise known as Nightcrawler, opened the door. He waved away the smoke and smell of sulphur with a three-fingered, blue hand, and coughed as he shouted out, "That's it, Keety! I'm just going to leave you there next time!" He paused before he turned, and remarked, "Nice stink- bomb, though," then walked off down the corridor, his tail swishing behind him.