---Los Angeles, 11:58 pm---
"Fucking cow," Javier muttered under his breathe. Although the heavy rain pallets against the window soothed her ears, Esmeralda was still hurt by these insults. She couldn't gather as quickly as he could. She had been left in deep sorrow by the actions of her mother. 'How could she do this to us?' Esmeralda thought.
"How could she," He muttered again, but much louder, "Esme I told you to pack some fucking clothes!" Javier spat across the kitchen while he yanked every food item within his reach and threw it into a cardboard box. She was trying to be brave and desperately holding herself together, as she always does. Tears still found their way down her pale skin. All she had to soothe her was the sound of the rain falling from the heavens and the isolating sound of her whimpers. She listened to her father and shuffled upstairs with a cardboard box while pulling back the tears into her eyes.
Once Esmeralda had left the kitchen, Javier broke. He wouldn't allow her to see him like this; it would have been too painful for her to watch. His arms fell limp, and he cowered in the corner of two counters while water dripped from his nose in sadness. His glistening eyes followed the room around until they landed on a note. A note he only read moments ago but felt like hours ago:
I saw you with her last night. Was I not enough? I've called the M.C.C. You disgust me with your mutant genes. Take our mutt daughter with you. She always preferred you. -Karen.
Introduction Song:
---Tokyo, 10:30 pm---
Elliott sat crossed-legged, uncomfortable, impatient for the welcoming Japanese lady to finish her job. He fidgeted on a cushion while his legs were suffocated under the short, hand-carved table. Silently, she placed his meal before him on the same table and bowed. She quickly, but quietly, exited his room. Elliott grinned anxiously, not knowing much Japanese and would much rather avoid conversation. As soon as she had closed the bamboo doors behind her to his ryokan inn room, he moved the ramen she had so gently placed before him and replaced it with his laptop. He would prefer to insult her culture when she was not in the room.
The laptop was the only light source in the room, and it illuminated his face into a glowing ball while he stared at the meaningful words on the screen. He read through all his history:
"Teenage Boy in Texas Strange Mathematical Abilities"
"MUTANTS: Are They Among Us?"
"Woman in Tokyo Bar 'Ku Kon' Saves Life Without Touching Victim."
The final tab intrigued him. That's why he is here. Maybe he could find her, understand her. He has heard too much about mutants to pretend they didn't exist.
He rested his eyes from the screen by taking a wander to the patio door and sliding the glass open. It was a wild night, with wind and rain swirling around the buildings and illuminated street signs down below. Although late, the night was busy with people. Since arriving in Japan, Elliott inhaled a deep breath and exhaled all his worries. From his pocket, he pulled out some form of a ring. He spun the ring in, and it danced on his palm. Engraved on the ring was a large X. He has his own reasons to believe it belonged to a mutant that unfortunately passed away. A beautiful ring, but it raises so many questions that Elliott desires answers too.
---Philadelphia, 12:39 am---
It was an ordinary apartment. It had ordinary windows, ordinary doors, carpets, wallpapers. Even an ordinary owner. Taking after his mother, Sam is studying sociology at university. His overbearing and overprotecting parents have supported him his entire life, even now, buying him an apartment close to his campus.
The night was clear but had a mysterious air. It was so silent is his bedroom; you'd think the whole world was gone but him. He slept under his covers peacefully. Maybe slightly afraid of living life independently and saying farewell to his high school friends.
But fate had unordinary plans for him. His skin, at 12:39 am, began to sweat. It was a warm bedroom after all. It dripped down his chest, down his arms and his fingertips and accumulated on his forehead into little dots. Meanwhile, his dreams became violent and unordinary, and his limbs twitched erratically. As his skin sweat overbearingly, the covers above his body sizzled and crisped into a bistre brown while laying upon him. The sweat that fell from his fingers that hung off the bed kissed the carpet and eroded crop circles into the fur. The spontaneous and aggressive dreams became too much for Sam, and a single tear rolled down his eye while in a deep sleep. The very second this tear touched his pillow, it lit into a beautiful orange flame beside him.
---Los Angeles 12:15 am---
Esmeralda created a parting between the curtains of the living room. A light beam from the street lights illuminated a single eye as she peeked onto the street and saw two long, shiny white cars pull into their drive way. On the hood of the cars was written "M.C.C."
"Dad, they're here!" She called nervously to her father in the kitchen.
"Follow me," he replied viciously as he held the back door open. She ran towards him and saw her escape into the dark, wet night. Behind their house was a long forest that ran for miles over countless hills.
The door rang, and harsh, deep voices could be heard communicating by the front entrance.
"What about the food? And clothes?" Esmeralda asked. They had spent so much time hurrying them into boxes.
"We can't take the car! They'll see us!" Her father whispers.
"We can carry them!" She answers back, but he ignores her.
"Where do we go?"
"Just run."
They exit through the backdoor hastily into the thick brush and woods. As Javier gently closes the back door, he could hear the M.C.C. hammering at the front door, clawing their way into his home. After hearing the signalling click that the back door had locked, he takes his daughter's small, pale hand and runs alongside her into the night of the forest.
---Phoenix 7:01 pm---
It was a late night in the offices, and a beautiful, tall, blonde woman paced her way down a long, wide office corridor lined with glass walls. Black clothes covered her legs and torso, but her arms were free and naked. She held tightly to her office work, folders and papers tucked into her arms. Although outstanding in figure, her appearance was somewhat cold. But there was much hidden under the cold surface of her skin.
"Aria!" her boyfriend sung down the corridor. He was large, tall and muscular and appeared older than the age of 23.
"Yes?" She asked. She turned around to face him. He looked at her legs.
"I told you to stand with your legs together," Evan complained, "your legs are too far apart, you look like a man. I don't want to date a man!"
"Sorry, I must have forgotten." She stood crossed-legged while her green eyes scanned the floor around his shoes.
"We're going out for Chinese food later, for your birthday," he stated while shuffling through his folders in his arms. Aria felt sorry for the folders for Evan had very cruel arms that almost burst through his shirt sleeves. If they had feelings, they would feel pain, she thought. She could empathise with the folders.
"I can't," Aria responded hesitantly, "I have to work until 10." But this angered Evan.
"I planned a special evening! Why didn't you tell me?" He questioned her maliciously. He took a few steps forward and looked down at her, waiting for an answer.
"I forgot! I forgot!"
"You forgot..." he chanted back. His eyes scanned the area to check if it was clear, "you won't forget this!"
He raised his large, muscular arm, ready to strike her in anger. Aria cowardly fell to the floor under his aggressive approach. Aria was not the only thing to respond to his aggression. Once Evan's hand was ready to strike down on her, the lights at the end of the hallway shattered under pressure. In a tidal formation, they continued to smash into glass splinters until it reached above Evan. The chandelier above him burst into intense light. Glass bullets shot around the room as if fired from a gun. One sliced Aria's cheek but another sliced Evan's forehead. Before either of them understood what had happened or realised they had been injured, they were plunged into the darkness with only each other as company.
---Los Angeles, 12:31 am---
Javier and his daughter, Esmeralda, still ran in the woods. The trees offered nothing more than the cold and the rain and low visibility. Esmeralda's dyed purple hair began to curl and tangle in the dampness of the forest. She was distraught that her mother had abandoned her and betrayed her, but this had fused into a wild rage against her internally. Esmeralda's large, hopeful eyes were now filled with fear of the future. What would happen to her? And her father?
"Esmeralda, you have to control it!" Javier demanded. With every single emotional step, her boot poisoned the ground and the grass and ferns surrounding it shrivelled and died within seconds.
"I'm trying!" She called back, angry. But she wasn't mad at her father; she was mad at her mother. Dogs barked in the distance behind them, and they both paused in fear, but they could not see anything through the thick, dense trees behind them.
"They're coming!" Javier states.
"We have to fight," Esmeralda decides. She was a brave girl, especially for only 15.
A few long moments later, torches, held by the hands of the M.C.C., searched their way through the distant branches behind them. Javier knew they'd catch up with him and his daughter soon. He took his daughter's shoulder and hugged her tightly.
"No matter what happens," he whimpers, "I love you."
Esmeralda treasured this. Her parents were never home often, and she became independent as a result. It satisfied her to know at least one parent is always with her. Ironically, feeling loved gave her the strength to accept her fate, whatever it may be. She also never felt particularly close to her father before this moment. He had Mexican descent, and that clearly showed through his olive skin and thick eyebrows. But she was stone white and little, like her mother. They had nothing in common until this moment. They were both being hunted for being mutants. Javier ended the hug on quick notice.
"Okay Esme," he spoke, "sing."
---Salt Lake City, 6:40 pm---
The orange glow of the sun was setting on the horizon. Humps and bounds of coal filled the large yard that was boarded with a chained fence. Multiple machines yank and dig at the mountains of coal, processing them. Sitting in the open transport carriage of a long, stationary train was a small, young girl of around 19. She seemed anxious. She had jet black hair that stretched far down behind her shoulders and her spine. Entangled in this hair was multiple beads and braids. Her hair was rather wild, but only to compliment her native American features: her dark brown eyes and tanned skin.
A boy comes around the corner, slightly younger than herself. His face is hidden by a black hooded jumper. He hops across the rusty tracks, across the sunset, and approaches the girl.
"Preston," he calls him, "what happened? I know something happened!"
But he said nothing, he hoisted himself in the loading carriage beside her and positioned himself against a large wooden crate. Not once did he reveal his face.
"Say something," she asked again. She waited once again, but he ignored her presence. She grew impatient. She stormed over and ripped down his hood. His eyes were glowing a fierce orange, and grey scales formulated down his neck. A ball of glowing fire illuminated through his throat and sat just above his Adam's apple. She could feel the heat radiating of him.
"I knew something bad had happened, I could sense it," she whispered to herself. He was breathing heavily, but she patted his chest, trying to calm him down.
"Cree," his lips mumbled meaninglessly.
"Don't talk," she sighed, "just rest."
This had happened to him a few times before. She recognised the symptoms. They both called it 'the Vulcan'. When Preston gets angered, sad, or sometimes just randomly, the Vulcan will emerge. Cree had seen it first hand, and it even scared her. No one could control the Vulcan inside of him. Preston already had amazingly great abilities. He could melt the toughest metals or create the hottest flames. But the Vulcan was no force the be messed with. She felt sorry for whoever happened to get in his way that night.
"I told you not to go," Cree whispered. But Preston's eyes were forced ahead as if fixed. He was cooling down from the Vulcan.
---Los Angeles, 12:32 am---
"There was a time when men were kind," Esmeralda sung. She sang gracefully, almost unnaturally. She stood, with her mouth open, in the dark, damp forest, allowing her voice to possess. Her father meanwhile, rose his hands and around both of them, a cage of branches encompassed them.
"That's it, Esme! Keep singing!" Like her father, she could control the growth of plants, but her power lied deeper than his. He could control his abilities by pure will, but hers were more spiritually. If she were sad, the flowers would die. If she were happy, the flower buds would open into spectacular colours. It wasn't as much will. But no matter the cause, her soothing voice always encouraged plants to flourish.
"And the world was a song,
And the song was exciting," she continued to sing. She had forgotten about her mother, about the danger, about the world. All she thought of was her song, and the branches grew faster. Javier harvested and controlled their growth and direction around them. The natural cage forming around them was filling, and only small gaps were left to complete. But Javier was still nervous as he could hear the M.C.C. approaching and their torches shinning through the natural cage.
Esmeralda did not notice the danger beside her: she was oblivious with bliss. Singing made her happy, and flowers began to grow all around the branches and the grass beneath her. Javier even began to smile as the job was also done. The cage of branches, leaves and flowers was thick. Nobody would be taking them anywhere. Javier, for the first time that night, smiled in relief.
"I think we did it," he sighed looking at her. Esmeralda's big, soft eyes slowly closed and she dropped the floor with a dart lodged in the side of her neck. Her purple hair spread across the floor and her limbs loosely attached to her body. As she fell, Javier noticed a gap in the cage behind her, the only gap they had missed. Javier thought they were safe, but they were not.
Her singing ended and her song unfinished. The cage shrivelled and collapsed around them without her aid. He felt a sharp pain in his neck too, and the drugs began to set in. In the fuzz of his vision, he watched the M.C.C. members gently carry Esmeralda's seemingly lifeless body away from him. He reached out his hand, but his eyes shut too, and his hand collapsed into the mud of the forest floor.
Ending Song:
MESSAGE: Thank you for reading! I hope you all enjoy! If you have not been introduced yet, don't worry, you will be! If you are wondering why one of your characters isn't in the list that may be because I wasn't able to fit them into the story, so I'm sorry. If any small details are changed like appearance, age or last name, that is just for the purpose of the story.
