All characters, scenes and plots in this are the property of Marvel and its respective affiliates. Any original characters, scenes and plots are our own work and not taken from anyone else. If you wish to use one of our ideas please do so, just give us due credit.

This novel comes after X-Men: First Class but with one minor difference: Charles X is NOT in a wheelchair.

This story is written by me ALICExRxH and my good friend AlbinoPheonix

January 5th 1965 – 23:00

The cold of the water alone nearly killed me instantly. That, of course, was the aim. I imagine to the casual observer my angst filled pose and subsequent dive looked elegant as I threw myself off the end of the peer into the choppy, hate filled sea below me. But I do not care. I am not some casual thrill seeker looking for a rush. I did this life threatening act for a simple reason; to end my life. It very nearly worked.

I am under no illusion that while my dive looked elegant, my following struggle did not. At war with myself; the urge to live fought against the pit of despair and fear that gnawed at my insides. I sobbed releasing a single pain filled wrench as I surfaced before the waves threw me under once again. Peace, all I wanted was peace. I thrashed and screamed, bubbles billowing in the almost pitch black water around me.

I was pulled deeper by the forceful current and stuck at the bottom, sharp rocks cutting into my back and wiry, chords of seaweed gripping to my fragile, bruising form. The last of the air left my lungs, floating away from me as I continued to scream and involuntarily the cold water did more than entered my mouth. It flooded into me. It filled my lungs and filled me with the burn of death, of the end. I was vaguely aware of movement but nothing until the stars filling my vision ended as I without meaning took a deep breath of freezing, salty air. My vision cleared for a split second. It was enough.

In that moment of clarity when I was still alive I realised three things. One I was no longer at the bottom. Two someone was shouting my name from the pier above me. And three, the steel hull of a boat was directly in front of my face. I lacked the time to even blink before I was smashed into and everything swirled inward, as my eyes narrowed to tunnels of vision. Then, blissfully, everything went black and I thought no more.

What got me here I hear you say? Well, my name is Rosa Olivia Halleway; I'm eighteen and a psychology student of Oxford. 5 days ago something terrible happened. Something that changed my world forever. Something that ended my life then and there.

I killed my mother, and paralyzed my father; now him and all of Britain is baying for my blood.

My name is Rosa Olivia Halleway and this is my story...

January 1st 1965 – 19:00

Rosa hadn't been feeling well for around six months. Initially she'd felt weak, but this had quickly progressed to shaking. Then came the cramps and the migraines so horrific she practically overdosed on painkillers. She'd never noticed the occasional peculiar things, pencils rolling toward her when she went to pick them up. As was typical for her, she didn't tell anyone. Her family, fiercely Christian would force her to pray for several months to expel the sins hurting her soul. And her friends... well she didn't really have any. It wasn't that she was boring of freakish; she was just very mature for her age and quickly grew bored with such conversations as footballers and gossiping respectively of each gender.

On this day, the day, she stood gazing at herself in the mirror when it happened. She was tall, with a slender toned body but curved hips. Her hair was a very dark brown and she could have been model if not for that fact she had heterochromia iridum; meaning one of her eyes was a dark, deep blue and the other a pale, sea green. She was dressed normally in dark clothing, favouring trousers over skirts. She came from a good family. Her father a ground breaking brain surgeon and her mother on the local council. They lived in a large home just outside of Plymouth. And as she stood there looking at herself, something inside her snapped. She collapsed, moaning at the cramps. This was worse than ever before.

When the pain finally receded she lay gasping on the floor for a moment. She looked at her head, in line with her light wooden floor, in the full length mirror. Something was different. She was scared, scared of the pain and what was wrong with her. Gradually she looked around her room. Her bed, complete with its cream blankets was floating. The wardrobe against the far wall was also a foot in the air, pressing into the ceiling. The bedside table, the drawers, the cabinet, the desk, the chair, even the rug. Everything not tied down was floating a foot into the air, with no visible means of support.

She looked back at the mirror, a scream rising in her throat she choked off before it could start. It exploded. She watched in almost slow motion as cracks splintered outward from her eyes in a spiral. Less than a second later it collapsed. She watched as shards hit the floor and shattered into hundreds of thousands of tiny pieces. They flew toward her but slowed, revolving as they bobbed toward her. She flinched but they stopped a foot before her.

"AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!" the high pitched scream nearly deafened Rosa as she rolled from her place on the floor. Her mother, a short woman with black curled hair flecked with spots of grey. Her piercing blue eyes were filled with shimmering tears of fear. Thundering booms filled the house as her father ran up the stairs shouting my mother's name.

"ISABELLA?" He cried "ISABELLA! What's wrong?" He reached my mother just as she backed outward into the hallway, leaning against the wall as if trying to shrink away from me. The scream was still pouring from her lungs. My father grabbed her in a hug, looking into my room. He wore a black suit, with a black haired comb over and circular glasses showing his green eyes. For a moment the only noise was my mother's sobs and wails as his toothbrush moustache quivered dangerously. An animalistic roar poured from his outraged mouth as he charged toward her.

"DAD! DAD! No! No! Don't! PLEASE!" She begged as he ran towards her and she scampered to her feet, hurriedly backing away. His fist backhanded her and she was down. Sobbing and wailing poured from her desperately as he fists pounded down once, twice, then three times. She was braced for the fourth blow, but it never came. She dared to glance through her cowering hands. His fist was there, an inch in front of her arm, quivering as it tried to push through some invisible barrier. Veins bulged in his forehead and his arm shook as he tried to force his way through.

Rosa was angry, how dare he? Her arm flew outward, intending to hit him. He was thrown backward with a sickening crack. But it had been directed at his chest. She watched with horror as he flew backward, his chest and spine bending backward at an impossible angle. The wave seemed to hit her mother as well and a second crack filled the air. Her neck, crooked at an unnatural angle, shook once and she fell to the ground, unmistakably dead.

Silence reigned. The furniture had been thrown around, paper and dust filling the room from chunks of missing wall and plaster. Her mother lay completely still. Her father lay quivering as if shocked.

Rosa never would be able to remember how long she knelt there. She did however remember what she did next. She leapt to her feet and pulled open the doors to the overturned wardrobe. In less than 5minutes she'd filled her travel bag with all her most useful clothes. She grabbed the money she had and left her room, it was the last time she ever set foot there. She charged down the stairs, stopping only to grab the emergency £200 from dad's study and pocket the jewellery her mother had been cleaning. One backpack full of food later and she left the house. A knife secure in her pocket.

January 4th 1965 – 9:00

She'd been on the boat for 61hours. From her home Rosa had run into the city. She'd reached the docks and overheard two men talking about the massive ship headed for the USA. Fighting a strange fatigue she'd boarded, hidden in a small cave made between three large metal containers used to store goods for transport.

The entire time had been spent by Rosa curled up under her trench coat sobbing and sleeping, occasionally eating. Now they'd finally arrived, sailing past the statue of liberty Rosa uncurled, stretched the cracks from her spine and crept to the edge. The moment they were docked Rosa broke cover, jumped the metre down to the wall and ran to the nearest building.

In the few seconds it took her to be down the alley between two old, one story factories covered in grime, she'd been soaked by the torrential downpour, so thick it was difficult even to see. Then she was in the small doorframe of one of the buildings back exits grabbing the various cardboard boxes from the alley and squishing them to make a seat, complete with backrest and pilling the rest on top of her.

For the first time she really thought about what she did. What had happened. As the cold from the rain seeped into her it seemed like her fear grew, until it was almost a corporeal paralysis within her. She'd killed them. Oh god! They, they were dead. A wail broke from her throat for a few seconds, swallowed by the rain as she held in the further cries and sobs shook her body. She lay there for hours, rocking with silent wails.

As fate sometimes seems to take a sadistic pleasure in doing; Rosa was hit when she was down. The wind, only lightly laced with rain now, pushed the newspaper rolling it down the alley until it nudged her foot. Inhaling deeply, sounding like a child after a tantrum even to herself, she picked it up and froze one again.

USA TODAY:

MASSIVE-MUTANT MAN HUNT UNDER WAY FOR VISCIOUS AND SADISTIC MUTANT KILLER!

A massive manhunt is sweeping the UK focused on the coastal southwest city of Plymouth in the search for the mutant Rosa Olivia Halleway. Rosa's father Hugo is helping in the manhunt to find and capture the rogue mutant who, in his words, 'killed the humanity from my beautiful god-given daughter'.

At around 7 o'clock on New Year's Day Rosa broke her cleverly constructed cover and viciously attacked her parents. Her mother was killed with a broken neck and her father, who is helping the search, has been paralyzed from the waist down. She is believed to be hiding in the moorland surrounding her local city and orders have been given to the army to use lethal force if at all necessary in order to bring this monster to justice.

Rosa curled up again. That was It then, she was being hunted. She was a monster, a mutant. Looking down the alley she could see the particularly rough sea and an old wooden pier leading out twenty metres into the sea. She decided then. She'd wait until nightfall and go to the pier. Then she'd escape the pain...