I.

"Does it feel good to be back, Rich?" Yvette turned from her spot on the couch to face Rich. He stopped typing at the computer for a moment to ponder the question.

When he first arrived in Snow Valley, he wanted nothing more than to complete his job and get back to England. But in the end, he discovered a home with the teens of Generation X—a family. Though he felt guilty about leaving his cousin and sister in England, he felt right with this place in Xavier's.

"Yeah," he sighed. "But I already miss the rest."

Though Rich was a member of Generation X for a few months, he had grown close to most of the members. They had become an extended part of his family and he was grateful for the time he had spent with them.

Yvette understood Rich's feelings. She had been with them since they had first come together as a team. They were the first people that she knew as family—people who gave her a sense of being and love, as opposed to the pain and suffering she had endured from Emplate for years.

"Next semester will be starting before you know it," Yvette replied.

Rich smiled. "Of course. Maybe we'll be able to bring everyone out here to England sometime."

Yvette smiled, "That's a good idea. I think they'd like that."

Tasha Lewis dashed down the stairs two at a time. "Hey, Kai, I'm going to the library!" she called as she grabbed her Nike backpack. She was dressed in dark blue jeans and a white sweater.

"Don't sit there and read too much and miss dinner. I'm making spaghetti tonight."

Tasha shot Kai a smile. "Yes, mother!" she replied, dripping with sarcasm. "Bye, Rich. I'll see you later, Yvette!" She bounded out of the door before Kai could respond.

Kai smiled to herself and shook her head.

Yvette turned back to Rich. "So Tasha is your sister?"

Rich smiled again. "I'm sure the looks threw you off," Rich said, referring to Tasha's caramel skin in contrast to his own fair complexion. "She's my foster sister. My parents adopted her when I was about ten. She's two years younger than me."

"Did something happen with her parents?"

Rich shook his head. "My parents never talked about it—neither did Tasha."

Yvette suddenly felt a pang of sympathy for the girl. She knew the feeling of losing her parents at a young age, but maybe the circumstances were different.

"She's such a great girl though. I've always treated her like my sister, and my parents treated her like she was their biological daughter."

"That's good then. Having a loving home must have been good for her."

Rich nodded. "Her powers were already developed when my parents adopted her though, which makes me think something happened with her powers."

Yvette nodded, thinking back to Clarice and the situation with her family. In her case, she lost her family forever because of her powers.

"What about Godiva and Kai?"

"They moved in after my parents' death. I inherited the castle, land, fortune, and title of Lord, but I couldn't do all this alone. My cousin Godiva is a big help. Godiva and I have been friends with Kai for a long time, so I didn't mind when she wanted to move in as well. Both of them help me out in business affairs as well as keep me company."

"We keep you in check, Rich!" Kai called from the kitchen.

Rich smiled again. "It's the truth. Anyways, they're mutants too. Godiva can psionically control her hair, growing it and shortening it according to the occasion. Kai can mentally control the emotions of others. Specifically, she can break down the natural inhibitors of a person and reveal their inner-most thoughts and desires. Trust me—she's quite popular at parties."

"What are you saying about me in there, Rich?"

"Nothing," Rich innocently replied over Yvette's giggles. "Tasha is a psi—something like Mike. As far as I know, she can read minds, project her thoughts, and a few other mind boggling tricks."

"Well, it sounds like you have a full house here."

"There's always room for one more," Rich said, looking directly at Yvette.

She blushed and smiled shyly, glad that she would be spending time with the first man she loved.

II.

Soundwave walked along the street, with the Discman blaring in his ears. His head bobbed unconsciously to the music that sounded in his ears. A newspaper caught his eye, and he turned to look at the front cover.

Rich Cale returns from America with his family.

"Rich—Cale—" Soundwave mumbled. He looked at a picture below the article and saw a young black girl, a girl who had similar features to Rich, probably Godiva, an Asian girl with a pretty face, and Rich.

His jaws clenched as he looked at Rich and remembered his treachery. The only thing on his mind was getting revenge on the one person he once trusted.

He looked up and saw a young girl walking down the street, the same young girl from the picture. He would get Rich, and he knew exactly where to start—his family.

He looked up to see a young girl walking down the sidewalk, bright and cheery. Just that alone made him want to do something evil to her. But when he looked at her face, he glanced back at the paper.

"Well, isn't this something," he recognized the girl as Tasha Lewis, Rich's foster sister, also pictured on the newspaper.

Soundwave threw his cigarette to the street and began to stalk his prey.

III.

"Hi, Mr. Cooper!" Tasha waved and flashed the older man a smile.

He gave a warm, friendly smile. "It's always nice to see you. How are you today?"

"I'm doing great. Gotta do some reading though!" Tasha disappeared around the bookcases and went to her favorite spot on the fourth floor, stopping at the other floors to grab a book. She settled down at what she deemed as her table, a hardwood, dark table, and began to read.

Tasha looked up from the book and glanced at her watch. "Oh no. I'm going to be late!" she said she closed the book and glanced around. There was no sound to indicate another presence in the building. She was on the fourth floor of the library so it seemed that she was light years away from the door.

It wasn't like Tasha to be afraid of being alone—she actually relished the time and took time out to spend alone.

She cradled the three psychology books in her arm as she threw her backpack over her shoulder. She patted the front pocket of her jeans for her library card and realized she had forgotten it. Tasha figured she came to the library enough for the librarian, Mr. Cooper, to let her go this time.

Reading was something Tasha loved to do, ever since she was young. She read both fiction and non-fiction frequently. She loved being immersed in the fanciful world of fiction, and learning about the real world through non-fiction.

She descended the marble spiral staircase quickly and quietly. Once on the bottom floor, Tasha headed straight for the check out desk. Cutting though floor to ceiling bookcases, she came out only to see no one there.

She quickly glanced at the small gold watch on her thin wrist. 'It's only six thirty…someone should be here,' Tasha told herself. If she didn't hurry, she was going to be late. She walked up to the desk and set the three large books down. Leaning over the desk, she looked for some sign of the librarian being there, but there was none.

"Mr. Cooper!" Tasha called. There was no answer.

Something wasn't right. Tasha's natural intuition was screaming, but she couldn't pinpoint why. There was nothing dangerous about the library, but it was suddenly different. The silence was deafening, next to the sudden beating of her own heart.

"Mr. Cooper?" she called again quietly.

It was instinctive for her to start walking more cautiously, looking around corners suspiciously, and listening for any sign indicative of danger. She could have easily dashed out of the library without thinking twice about the old man, but she was better than that. He could have had a heart attack, or maybe he fell and couldn't get up…Tasha had to find out.

She rounded the corner to his office, thinking that if he wasn't anywhere else, he would be there. The office was all the way in the back of a hallway that extended off of the front desk. It was dark, and she couldn't find the light switch.

"Mr. Cooper? Are you there?" Tasha suddenly thought that the old man may be in the bathroom, when the door opened due to her knock.

"Mr. Cooper?" Tasha whispered as she saw the man sitting at the desk, facing away.

A wave of nervousness suddenly washed over her. She felt like she was the character in a horror movie that was happening upon a horrific scene. Still, she played the role.

She crept slowly toward the chair and touched the man's shoulder. "Mr. Cooper?" she whispered for the last time. The chair spun, seemingly on its own, to leave a pair of lifeless eyes staring back at her.

Tasha wasn't easily scared, but a scream ripped from her throat before she could even catch herself. Her heart was pounding out of her chest, as she realized something was horribly wrong.

She dashed out of the room immediately, stumbling down the hallway momentarily before regaining her footing. She ran toward the front doors, but when she slammed against them, she found they were locked.

She glanced to the right and grabbed a chair. The nine doors that made up the front were made of glass, so she could easily escape. The police would understand. She threw the chair, but it bounced off of the glass and hit the ground.

Tasha thought she was hallucinating, until she remembered that the glass had been recently replaced due to the high winds shattering the glass. A new type of unbreakable glass replaced the old.

Tasha was trapped. She wasn't aware of another way out, but when the man appeared about twenty feet from her, she knew she had to figure something out.

"Who are you?"

He didn't answer, but slowly advanced toward her. Tasha heard the faint sound of music coming from somewhere. When the boy came into the light, she realized that she was in horrible danger.

"Oh my God—" Tasha backed against the door.

She looked over the man that shambled toward her. His head was low, bobbing to the music she heard earlier. He had on a set of headphones that looked attached to his head. His hard face was pale and scruffy, long and thin. His hair almost covered his eyes as it bobbed from side to side in time with the music.

Soundwave came within inches of Tasha's face, pressing her farther against the glass. He gently touched her chin, which made her skin crawl.

"Tasha Lewis—Rich Cale's right hand man—or should I say woman?" he pressed his face into the nape of her neck and sniffed loudly.

"You smell so good—"

"What do you want? How did you get out of jail?" she tried to sound strong, but her voice faltered several times, giving away her fear of this madman.

"You're in no position to be asking questions, Tasha." His low voice was almost hypnotizing as Tasha shrank back against his touch.

"Sweet Tasha—you're so soft—" he seemed mesmerized.

Tasha took this chance to try to get away. She kneed him in the softest area on his body, pushed him back, and landed at roundhouse to the side of his head. Soundwave stumbled forward, only to be met with a quick elbow to the jaw and a spin kick to the midsection. She ended by grabbing his stringy brown hair and pulling him down to meet her knee.

She ran as Soundwave fell to the ground. Tasha dashed into the maze of bookcases to try to hide herself.

Soundwave let a scream rip from his throat as he got to his hands and knees. "You bitch—I'll get you! You can't hide from me! I'll kill you!"
Tasha kept running, and then bounded up the stairs back to the fourth floor. She went to the very back and hid behind a bookcase there. She figured it would be several hours before he found her, but how would she get away then?

Soundwave recovered quickly then adjusted his walkman. A song with a fast beat and heavy on the electric guitar suddenly began to blast. He rose to his feet, like a marionette brought to life. He began to laugh as his eyes grew wild.

He sped through the bookcases as if he had traveled through them a thousand times and sped up the stairs. Tasha heard the sound of music approaching but she knew it was too late when she felt a hand roughly grab her arm.

She was snatched from her hiding place and thrown across the room into a bookcase. Tasha crumpled to the ground, surprised by his strength. She tried to rise to her feet, but he was upon her before she could recover. He picked her up by her shoulders and slammed her into the bookcase several times.

Tasha's vision blurred and she thought she was going to pass out. Soundwave saw the cloudiness come over her eyes.

"Not yet, sweetness. I have much more in store for you!" He threw her to the side and she bounced off the ground. He was instantly upon her and dropped a knee into her stomach.

Tasha screamed.

"Oh, you're going to give me more of that," he said as he began to laugh manically.

IV.

Detective Randall Harris hated the night shift. It was when all the strange and untold secrets of the night came out. The most tragic and horrendous crimes seemed to always occur or be found at night. He scratched his head as he looked at the mangled body in front of him.

In the background, he could still hear the forensics technician vomiting and other hushed conversation going on.

"Who was he?" Harris's mellow voice was almost startling to the woman officer standing next to him. He was a muscular man, and she expected him to have a much gruffer voice than he did.

She flipped through her notebook quickly. "His name was," she paused while she read a few lines, "Hector Fernandez. He was a custodian for the facility."

"Police record?"

"None. From what we've gathered from the tapes, he was simply cleaning, but began to sing. The prisoner somehow broke out of the cell, then…" she trailed off, letting her gaze fall on the body.

"There was a tape?"

"Yes, but it was distorted. We assumed that the attacking individual was the prisoner, which was a viable assumption, given the circumstances."

Harris remembered that particular problem with Soundwave. Because he could control actual sound waves, he could interfere with electronic waves, which continually distorts his image on camera.

"Poor soul," Harris shook his head.

"Shouldn't you call Mr. Cale about this?" the officer suggested. She then realized her mistake from the expression Harris gave.

Harris grunted then stated, "I don't need a vigilante getting involved in this case. There's going to be enough attention without reporters getting a whiff that this could be related to Cale."

The female officer sighed. "I know that the two of you have differences, but if this prisoner is who everyone says he is then Mr. Cale is going to be the first person he's after."

Harris knew that Jones, the female officer, was right. "Give me a phone," Harris gruffly said.