Disclaimer: I do not own X-Men Evolution, or any of the characters and I don't claim to. I am just borrowing them for a little bit and will return them to their rightful owners when I'm done. Don't sue, I don't have any money.

Warning: THIS FIC IS R-RATED FOR A DAMN GOOD REASON! IT CONTAINS EXPLICIT VIOLENCE, TORTURE AND RAPE! DO NOT CONTINUE IF YOU ARE UNDER SEVENTEEN OR HAVE A WEAK STOMACH! I will not be held accountable for any who choose to ignore this warning and continue to read. Flame me if you want, but I'll just laugh at it, and then you.

Notes: Extra big THANK YOU!!!!!!!!!! to my friend angyl-devyl, who read the prologue and pronounced it good. I wouldn't have posted this otherwise, so thanks ever so much. Now, everyone go and read her fics because she rocks. Enjoy and review!

Prologue

Her breath fogged in the air, icy raindrops splashing against her skin. Even through her outfit of heavy clothes, thick coat, gloves, and scarf, the cold slashed at her skin, biting and clawing, numbing her body. She hated the cold, it was such a miserable state of weather. She preferred the warm, sunny days, not overly bright or hot, just a mild warmth that lazily caressed her skin.

She sighed and ducked her head, clutching her books to her chest with her numb hands. She stared at her feet as she walked down the sidewalk, listening to the sharp sound of her boots hitting the pavement. She passed under a streetlamp, the yellow light offering no relief from the warmth, merely light to see by.

She stayed in the pool of light for a moment, looking around at her. The street was deserted, everybody was already tucked away in bed, perhaps snuggling with their loved one, or maybe just a teddy bear. Still, a wave of unease flooded her body, making her pulse race and her skin tingle. It wasn't fear, not quite, just wariness, uncertainty, anxiety.

She shook her head, telling herself that she was being ridiculous, and moved out of the light, stepping into the shadows of night once again. Even if she was attacked by a mugger, which was highly unlikely because nobody would be out in this cold unless they had no choice, then she was more than capable of dealing with them. She was being foolish and instead of wasting time thinking about all the bad things that weren't going to happen, she should just hurry home. There was a mug of cocoa, a hot shower, and a warm bed calling to her, and it would be rude to ignore the call, don't you think?

The attack came out of nowhere. Only her quick reflexes and extensive training in martial arts let her evade the first blow, dropping her books as she twisted to the right, turning around to face the attacker. Or rather, attackers. She couldn't see exactly how many there were, they were hidden by the shadows until their bodies meshed together into one solid shadow filled with the glinting of knives.

Raising her fists, she fell back into a defensive position and waited for them to come at her. It would be stupid to go for them, she would lose, but if she let them come at her, she had a better chance of survival.

Three rushed her at once, two holding knives, the other holding a baseball bat. She brushed the bat aside, ducking down to sweep the man's legs out from under him. He fell with a heavy thud, a groan spilling from his lips, but she ignored him, already back on her feet and fighting the next man. She jumped back to dodge the knife, delivering a sharp right hook, following it up with an uppercut, and then knee-capping him. He joined his friend on the ground, and she turned to face the other person.

He was faster than the other two, and his knife managed to make contact, slashing through the thick sleeve of her coat, sweater, and shirt, to slice at her skin. The pain was sharp and immediate, small needles of pain spreading from the injury. She felt a thick, warm liquid form and drip down her arm, warmer than normal because of her cold skin, but she paid it no attention. She raised an arm, brushing away the fist he'd raised, and executed a textbook snap-kick, her booted foot connecting with his jaw. He stumbled backwards, but didn't go down.

The other men, she assumed they were men but they might have been tall, broad-shouldered and muscular women, muttered various threats, insults, and curses, and rushed at her, weapons raised.

She tried to defend herself, her body moving fluidly despite the cold. She punched, kicked, dodged, danced, but in the end, all it took was one lucky hit to her face to stop her. The punch split open her eyebrow, warm blood dripping into her eye and blinding her, and for the split-second it took to wipe the blood away, three things happened at once: someone swept her feet out from under her, another stabbed her in the shoulder, and someone else pressed the cold barrel of a gun against her temple.

She stared up at them from the ground, not moving, but glaring with everything she had. She waited, her body tense, but the punches, the kicks, the pain, didn't come. Instead, they rolled her over onto her stomach, someone pressing down on her shoulders, including her injured one, to make sure she didn't move. Pain shot through her arm from the stab wound in her shoulder, but she didn't cry out, she wouldn't give them that satisfaction.

Cold steel, cold enough to make her body twitch, touched her wrists, she heard the snap and click of handcuffs. She frowned, wondering what was happening and knowing that it would not be good, and the last thing she saw before they beat her unconscious was a pair of baby blue eyes glaring at her from the mass of men, blue eyes filled with hate and triumph. She didn't hear his proud proclamations, didn't feel the men lift her effortlessly to throw her into the back of a van, she didn't see the other girl already there, all she saw was a black expanse of absolutely nothing, as she drifted peacefully in sweet oblivion.