The new street: part one

She ran down the street, clutching something to her chest. Her blonde hair, although short, blocked her eyes as she maneuvered through the crowded sidewalk. She dare not stop to wave the hair from her eyes, so she continued on, tossing her head from side to side, hoping to retrieve her vision. As she ran forward, a large roar shook the sky, a strike of lightning illuminated the sky, and rain began to poor on her face. Cries from behind stopped the crowds around her, and screams of people echoed in her ears.

She tripped from a crack on the sidewalk and scrambled to get back on her feet. It was too late. A large man, dressed in a dark green uniform grabbed her by the back of her shirt and lifted. She flew into a standing position and started to plea. "Please don't hurt me," she cried. "I haven't done anything to you!" The man responded with a slap to the face but she continued to plead. The people around her said and did nothing. They simply stood by and watched. "Why should we spare you, you didn't spare a single person in that store," he spoke with no emotion, as he let go of her shirt. She scrambled, turned her back to him, and ran off. He lifted a weapon from the pouch on his belt, and without aiming, so it looked, fired. She gave a muffled scream as her blood littered the street, and she lay motionless, the bullet lying in her back. Dead.

From the roof top, a fist closed tightly. A young woman, around the age of 21 turned around and walked to other side of the building. There she went down the fire escape. She walked slowly, but it seamed she glided down each step and turn. When she arrived at the bottom, and landed on the floor of the alley, she was not alone. A man, around the age of 16, 6 foot, at least, greeted her not with a wave, but with a light punch to the arm. "What happened," his asked, his deep voice sounding out of place with the silence. "Gun shot to the back, right below the neck. Dead," she answered, her voice also deep, but with a smooth tone, almost motherly. "You tired, let's go home, Gel said she had some news for us." He glided his hands through his thick brown hair and left them at the back of his head. "Naomi, we can't expect to save them all. Especially not now, with Triggers patrolling the streets, America isn't safe for mutants anymore." His voice still lacked the emotional tone, and he started walking out of the alley and down the street. His commando boots, black jean pants and purple muscle shirt show off in the crowd of people, all wearing blue or gray suites.

Naomi follows him, her outfit more matching: a pink tank top with a gray overcoat, which darkened in the downpour. They walked for minutes, and soon arrived at their home. A large, bricked building, a perfect match with its surroundings: a home to several hundred apartments. "Tell me again… why we live on the 15th floor in a building with no elevator…" he complained. "Because you free-loading bastards have to live in my apartment, and I love making you guys walk," she laughed. "Bitch," he replied. She slapped him on the back of the head and they continued on.

They walked up the stairs and soon, after about five minutes, they arrived at apartment 15D. "Ladies first," Naomi said with a smile, pushing him into the unlocked apartment. In there were several other people, all around the age of 16, some younger. "Alice, where's Gel," ordered Naomi at the youngest girl. She was short, around 5'5 but had a wide smile on her face. She had blonde hair, which at the moment was in pigtails. Her hands were covered in scratch marks, made by her own fingernails. "I think she's in the bathroom," her cheerful voice shouted, as she watched TV from the couch. Just then, the bathroom door opened, and a large man, around the same age of Naomi came out, a freshly shaven face showing. "My Gel, how ugly you've gotten," a smaller male laughed. He was about the same size of Alice, blonde hair also covering his head. His was messy, and his dark green eyes were hidden by his bangs. He stood up and walked into the bathroom. "What was Trit talking about," the larger man said, his voice higher than Naomi's companion. "Khan, where is Gel?" the man said. "Na Felix, I don't. Wait. Yeah I do… actually. She's in the mall." "Which one…" Felix asked, annoyed. "The big one," Khan replied, with a smirk. "Which big one!" Felix was annoyed, and began approaching Khan, when Naomi stopped him by placing her hand on his shoulder. "Khan," is all she said, and he answered. "I don't know which," he said, his smirk gone. "Thank you," she responded with a smile.

She walked over the couch, where Alice still sat, mindlessly watching the television. She put her feet on the table, the left foot over the right, and stretched, "Then we'll just have to wait".

The new street: part two

Hours had passed since the duo returned home, but still, Gel had not returned. On the couch, built for three, sat five people: Naomi, Felix, and Alice sat on the actually cushions, while Trit and another character sat on the armrest. As the show on the television switched to a commercial, Alice looked over at Felix and slowly, so gently moved her hand to his ear. Before he could do anything, she had flicked his ear and burst into laughter.

Without saying a word, Felix got off the coach, bent down in front of Alice and picked her up by the torso. He flung her over his shoulder and carried her to the window. He opened it up with is left hand, not flinching as Alice's feet and hands kicked and smacked every part of his upper body. He took her off his shoulder, she felt light a feather, and he tossed her out onto the fire-escape. He shut the window and went back to the couch. "That's classic," laughed Khan, coming out of the kitchen, a beer in his hand, "but you know, she's going to break the..." his sentence was cut short. Glass flew inward from the window as a retreating fireball returned to Alice's hands. The angry Alice came back into the window and glared at Felix, who was smiling.

She clutched her hands into fist and starting walking towards Felix, "You think that was funny?" "Yes, yes I do," Felix said calmly. The flame had reappeared over her left fist and as she lifted it, she extended her middle finger. "I fucking hate you," she screamed. Naomi stood up and glared at her, "put that thing out before you set off the sprinklers. She was right, a moment later, the above fire-fighting sprinklers went off, and the entire 15th floor was soaked. Everyone stood up and ran out of the apartment. They were joined by the people of the other seven apartments as they flew to the stairwell. They all hurried down the apartment stairs and landed in the 14th floor. Of course, the fire-bells began to ring, and everyone was forced to evacuate the building, and they did.

As the people piled outside grumbles and moans were head everywhere.

Questions were asked, of course, and answers were given. "There's not fire…right?" "Did a mutant do it?" "Damn muties." One man, unparticular stood on a wooden crate and yelled to his fellow housemates. "You know what, it started on 15. Fifty bucks it was from Apartment D, how many people of them are in that room…nine, ten? I bet they're all mutants." The man bellowed as load as his girth would allow, and people from neighboring buildings started to come out. "Let's find them, and burn them, like they tried to do to our building!" As cheers followed, and cries, the inhabitants of Apartment 15D quickly ran away down the street. They turned and ran on, until Trit, the leader of the marathon, ran into a large, bulky man in a dark green uniform. He said nothing and stared down at Trit as he picked himself up. Trit, shocked and surprised, for only a few seconds, became invisible. The uniformed man towered over him and smiled. Trit had no idea what to do, and turned around to find his friends finally catching up to him. As Naomi came closer she shouted, "everything all right Trit?" As he began to answer, the man grabbed Trit by the head, and twisted Twit's neck to the right. A soft cracking sound was heard as Trit's limp body fell to the floor. Naomi stopped in her tracks, as did everyone else. "God damn mutants," he began, in a deep load voice, "always making a mess." Naomi lifted her hands, her palm spread open and her fingers stretched upwards. "You monster," she screamed, "he did nothing!" She put her left hand on her right's wrist, as it began to glow with a pink light. "You'll pay!" She ran towards him, and before he could do nothing, she had thrust her palm into his body, and pink lines, like electricity, began to shine from the gaps of her palm and his stomach. She retracted her hand, and his body fell onto Trit's.

She screamed into the night air. The smell of rotting flesh soon overpowered that of the night air. Before her feet lay two dead bodies, and behind her, two males and two females stand behind her. The males stood firm, but one female, a tall brown haired woman, around 17, leaned into Khan's shoulder as she cried.