Devilaire Mshadi: I thought Mystique stories seemed pretty rare, so I decided to begin one myself that will still manage to tie and run into the movies. Thank you however for reviewing, I appreciate it (:
Rogue151: Thank you for such a big review! Super! And yes, you're right, it was Logan. Well, think of it this way. Raven is younger there; it's in the past long enough (I think!) for Logan to still be in Stryker's control. In order to relate all these mutants I made Logan carry out a mission for him which did not mean to result in him killing anyone.. but he needed a car.. it happened to be Peter's and he got killed in the process of Logan stealing it / Anyway, thank you for reviewing!
Mythers: Thank you, I am gaining more confidence with this as it goes (and seeing lots of reviews liking it helps!) I know this update is belated but life IS hectic as late, and I'm trying to keep my other stories on track as well as this one.
Galadeidre: I have updated! Sorry! I'm happy that you like it so much. It's people like you who give me promising reviews that let me know that you readers do indeed want to read more! Thanks!
Legolasfreak2: Thank you. It will tie in with the movie and stuff. Glad you like it (:
Dancing Through Life: Yes, it does show the strength of some people's hatred. Mystique must have had traumatic things happen to make her into the mutant we know from the movies. More stuff will happen though.. so don't worry! Thanks for the review!
Calandra: Hello you! I did consider some sort of rough childhood like that, but it also seemed to be very stereotypical of a badass mutant P So I tweaked it to make it more traumatic.
Chapter 7The rain thrashed murderously against Raven's windows as she sat silently on her bedroom floor. She knew it was nighttime, as there was no form of light filtering through her curtain, but she also had her clock still sat on her bedside table. But Raven hadn't looked at the time for months. She never needed to know the time. In a world where the days passed by undisturbed, time wasn't important. Nor did she use her calendar, she wasn't aware of the month, or day. She wasn't even sure if they had ventured into a new year or not. She had been locked up so long that she had lost all track of time.
In truth, it was the ninth month since she had been first shoved into her room, the ninth month since her mutation was blatantly revealed. But she couldn't tell. She didn't even know how much she had changed body-wise since that fateful day, for she never looked in her mirror. She was too frightened at what would stare back at her.
Ever so slowly, she stretched off the carpet and stood to her feet. She walked slowly over to one of her windows, prising back the curtains to stare down at the dark road. The rain slashed down in torrential sheets whilst the wind howled and roared as it grabbed at every lingering object to thrash and shake it up. As threatening as the outside world look, she so desperately wanted to be out there, to touch reality again. The dark confinements of this square room were slowly breaking her down. She didn't feel the same anymore. For countless nights she had opened her curtains and stared at the street below with so much longing. But as she looked down to her dark blue hands she made a soft sigh and covered them up under the sleeves of her jumper. She could never step outside into this world.
She turned gently from the window, pulling the curtains closed before she shuffled slowly back across her carpet and sat down against the wall. She curled up upon herself, staring across the room at where her chest of drawers sat. Her mirror was still stood upon it, but a sheet from her bed had covered the large grandness of it. As you may well remember, she didn't look at her reflection. Ever.
Go on.. came a voice inside her head. Go to the mirror..
Raven sat against the wall, staring at the covered mirror that stood opposite her on the chest of drawers. Go on.. Ever so slowly, her hands gripped into small fists as she stood back to her feet and walked slowly across the room. The outside wind continued to holler its anger and vehemently rattled at her windows like some trapped beast. But the frightful noises were ignored as she slowly walked towards her mirror. Her dark hands rested gently on the wood of the surface, unclasping from their tightly coiled clenches. She stared at the white sheet that covered the front of the mirror, and she carefully uncurled her trembling fingers, which arched out of the frightened ball like a spider rearing from it's back. Her fingers clasped at the front of the cloth, suddenly and hurriedly whipping it down. The material tumbled, landing upon the chest of drawers and sending items scuttling across the smooth surface.
Her wide and frightened eyes stared into themselves; her shaking hands rested back down on the surface, clutching the fallen sheet. She watched her reflection with an apprehensive expression, like she didn't really want to view the sight, like it was some bloody scene of an accident. For there was a burning hopelessness in her eyes, a submissive retreat in the striking yellow. Her defiance had been weaned away, her hope and pride battered at and destroyed like a blunt axe upon wood, chipping away parts of her. Pieces that made her inside.
There was a solemn realisation in the pit of her stomach as she watched the shine of her blue face be framed by the new, striking red hair. There really would be no escape from this life. Even if she got out of this room, away from her parents, she would be forever trapped by hatred - invisible rope tying her down, cutting into her, loathing her for being who she was; for being what she was.
But just when one simple breakthrough of being able to look yourself in the eye occurs. Terrible things commence to ruin that shred of relief.
You thought you had just grabbed the rope that will hoist you out of this dark pit of despair.. but at the top, somebody just cut the line..
It was a deep downward spiral. There was little she could do to stop herself plummeting so fast to the very lowest of lows. With her mirror uncovered, she would stare at her face every day, wondering if she would ever change, wondering if her life would ever be normal. She had been stuck in this abhorred abyss for so long, she couldn't remember her own age anymore. Years had gone by, and the only contact she had was from her parents who still held nothing but loathing and distrust for their daughter. But the global hatred from the outside world had not yet reached her. But it had been tapping on her window in the night, just to let her know that it would be coming. Like the wind that eased through the gaps of her window frame, the suffocating stench of anger was creeping in and it began to strangle her dimmest hopes.
It would whisper to her, voices come and go through her head, each one displaying their anger and thorough hatred. She'd sit and cry alone in the corner, wishing for these voices to leave her. But they followed the breeze of the wind, and the wind never stopped. Air would never cease to exist. She vocally begged for them to stop, but they never did, they laughed and jeered.
One night, she ran up to the mirror, staring at her face, tears streaming from her eyes. The voices were multiplying, they were louder. She could hear a car engine rumbling in the street below, but these voices were now drowning it out, swirling like an unbreakable fog around her weak mind.
"Go away.." she whispered, staring into those vivid eyes, "Please go away."
A thousand voices escalated their volume, so much so she could feel her head straining at the pressure, hurting.
"Please!" she cried, her voice rising as she shook her head in despair at her reflection, as if it were to blame for her condition, "Stop taunting me!" Her hands moved to her face, covering as she sobbed into her hands. She still shook her head, her hands moving slowly before clutching at her forehead, trying to press the voices out as she gripped into her head viciously with her hands, "STOP IT!" she screamed whilst her fingers sat poised like spiders, fingers arched whilst her nails drove into the dark shining flesh, puncturing the surface as blood began to ooze out of the digging grooves. It ran along her fingers, staining her nails and trickling down through her hair.
She gasped softly at her self-destruction, staring as the blood streamed slowly in long and winding strips down her forehead, dropping off the contour of her eyebrows to splash at her cheeks. The voices jeered and laughed louder, mocking her. Her breaths quickly escalated, eyes tightening as she made a furious scream of anger, her bloodied hands reaching forward and swiping the mirror off the chest of drawers. She staggered backwards, the clean glass now smeared in her bloodied handprints as she spun at the wall, smashing the mirror against it with desperate screams of fervent rage.
She repeatedly struck the wall with it, the glass shattering and spilling out of the frame like a thousand tears. With one last scream of fury she snapped the frame in half as it slapped against the wall, the wood buckling and splintering defeatedly. She gasped madly for air, her chest heaving with her sudden explosion. She looked down to her shaking hands that held either half of the broken frame, bloodied smears coating them. She gently dropped them; giving a soft exhale as the torrent inside her head had calmed and she could hear the alarmed shouts from her parent's bedroom. She sunk slowly to the floor, resting her head down in the shattered glass. The blood smeared from her wounded scalp and across the carpet and shimmering shards. But right there and then.. she slipped away. Her body went weak and her eyes fluttered shut as she fell unconscious. As she slumped down slowly, her bedroom door burst open, but she had collapsed in a bloodily curled heap in the ruined remains of that wretched mirror.
I finally updated! Please review for me!