Angel: A Different Story


Warren waited impatiently in the living room. He tapped his right foot on the well-carpeted floor to the rhythm of a song that got stuck in his head while driving a few minutes before. He didn't catch the title, and now the song was driving him crazy. He looked around the vast living room. There was a small coffee table, a couch, and a recliner. He sat on the end of the soft couch. The living room was quite large, the walls filled with exquisite paintings. It reminded him of their own living room in the Worthington Mansion, almost thirty miles from where he was now, which was at the Xaviers Institute, a school for gifted youngsters.

Gifted...yeah right, more like cursed, he thought wryly.

*You're wrong, Warren.*

Warren was startled. He glanced around, but saw no one.

Weird, I thought I heard–

Suddenly, the double-doors which led to who knows where opened and a bald man in a wheelchair, probably in his late forties, entered the room, followed by the exotic African woman who had told him to wait in the living room earlier. Warren stood up, and walked towards the man in the wheel chair. They shook hands and did the quick introductions.

"Good morning," Warren said formally, just as his father had taught him, "My name is Warren Worthington...the third."

"A pleasure, I am Professor Charles Xavier, headmaster of this newly founded school. And this," he said, gesturing to the beautiful woman standing beside him, "is Ororo Munroe."

She smiled warmly.

"Please sit down, both of you," the professor said, "so we can talk." Warren sat down on the couch, the same place where he sat before, and Ms. Munroe sat on the other side of the couch.

The professor maneuvered the wheelchair so that he and Warren were facing each other. The professor closed his eyes for a few seconds, then opened them again, and he smiled, as if it was nothing out of the ordinary. Warren raised his eyebrows.

"Um...are you okay, professor?" he asked, undoubtedly with concern.

"Yes, of course," he replied nonchalantly. Warren was now confused, very confused. "Oh, okay. I just thought that when you... uh, closed your eyes there, that maybe you had a... uh, headaches or something." He scratched his head, embarrassed.

"Charles, I think it's time we explained this whole thing to the boy," Ororo said to the man in the wheelchair.

"Yes, yes..."

*Warren, I am a telepath, a mutant. Just like you.*

Warren was again, startled. He turned to look at the professor. That voice, it sounded the same as the professor's.

"You..." he said pointing his finger at the older man, then put it away quickly, realizing that what he did was very...rude.

*Yes, me.*

Warren noticed that his lips didn't move. "Okay, you know what, stop that for a second. Stop doing that. Y-you're creepin' me out," he said shakily. Then he stood up and started pacing.

"Um...so you're a telepath?"

Xavier nodded.

"Telepaths can read minds," Warren murmured, then turned towards the professor, "Have you been reading my mind?"

"A little bit, Warren."

The boy's face turned pale.

"Don't worry," he added quickly, "I've only read enough of your thoughts just to know and to make sure that you are a mutant, like us."

Warren tried his best to relax.

"I-I guess that makes sense."

"You see, you have the power, the ability, to fly. The one thing that many men, including myself, have only dreamed of doing...."

"I'm a mutant? Is that what people call it? Tell me, what exactly is a mutant?"

"A mutant is a human being who has evolved faster...," the professor started, then giving up, he sighed. "To make things simple, a mutant is a person who has a special ability that most human beings don't. For example, I can read and project thoughts to others' minds, and you, you have natural feathered wings, like a birds'. You have to ability to fly. And Ororo, she can control the weather."

Warren tried to clear his mind, then he turned towards the woman.

"Y-you can control the weather?" "Yes, my child. A very...useful gift," she replied, smiling.

The blonde teenager smiled back, then took a deep breath.

"Okay, okay. So what exactly am I doing here? My father said that you could help me deal with this mutation...thing. How?"

"Well, I can help you control your powers better. I can help you adjust. And most importantly, I can help you to accept who you are," he replied, in a very serious tone. Warren thought for a moment, trying to absorb everything in.

"Hmm....okay. So, when and where do we start?" he asked.

"Well, first, we need to make a few arrangements, assuming of course that you're agreeing to stay with us here in the institute."

Warren nodded. "What kinds of arrangements?"

"Well, for example, I will be talking to your parents to try to convince them that you will be allowed to stay here in the institute for quite some time. And also, that you will be going to a new high school."

"A new high school? Bayville? Isn't that a public school"

"Yes. Bayville. Its quite close, probably a ten minute drive from here. The closest private school is almost an hour's drive from here."

"Oh....okay. Um, professor?"

"Hmm?"

"Are there any other students here?"

"None right now, but I did have a student before," he replied, his face statement became thoughtful, as he remembered a sweet memory, "a sweet, young, red-headed girl with almost the same powers as mine, however, she's back with her family now. But considering how powerful and dangerous her powers can be, I am quite sure that she will be coming back here to join us."

"Really? When?"

"Soon. Very soon."


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