Sam sat on the bed in his motel room, eyes closed in deep thought about nothing. The room was dark, no lights were on and the TV hadn't been touched since he checked in. He enjoyed the peace that an empty mind and the darkness created, back home this was his escape from reality. How he fended off the nightmares and screams. He didn't sleep, just sat with his eyes closed in the darkness.
He could hear a voice outside his window, followed by two steady thuds at his door. His eye opened quickly, locking onto the door. He wasn't expecting guests, in fact no one should know he was there.
"Samuel, it's Agent Monahan. Open the fucking door." Followed by two more loud thuds.
Samuel slowly sat up causing the cheap and worn mattress to creak. Flipping on the light switch he opened the door allowing the man in. Agent Monahan was Samuel's handler and liaison at the UN, a tall, slender pale man, although he was rather red presently with dark brown hair and brown eyes.
"How'd you find me?" Sam asked as he shut the door.

"What the hell Sam?!" Monahan's voice crackling slightly in anger. "We put money in your pocket, give you a bus ticket and one instruction. Check in at the Xavier School!" The agent sarcastically looked around at the cheap motel room, arms open as if presenting it to Sam. "And you toss the phone we give you and disappear!" He stared Samuel down in a mix of anger and frustration awaiting some response for his actions. The unfazed demeanor and Sam's own glare seemed to calm Monahan slightly as he took a few deep breaths and sat on the bed.
"Talk to me Samuel, what's going on?"

Adjusting his posture allowing his back to rest against the nearest wall. In all honesty he was hoping to have lost his G.I. babysitter. "How'd you find me?" He asked again; still glaring at his unwanted guest.

"Called in a favor at NYPD when you didn't arrive at the school….traffic cameras. Now you answer my questions. Why didn't you go to the school?"

Making his way over to one of his bags Samuel searched and rummaged through it. "Age wise we all believe I'm roughly in my twenties, so…" he paused as he pulled a pack from his bag and placed it between his lips. "...why am I going to a school?" He attempted to hide his accent but it still managed to slip on certain vowels and letters. "I can read, write, do arithmetic. I passed all your tests, so what is the point." He questioned lighting his cig. "Besides, I'm no longer your responsibility." Motioning his head to the manilla folder with his visa and release papers. "I don't need school."

"Yes you did, but you're here alone. The school would provide you with a means to socialize and adapt to normalcy." Monahan sighed, combing his finger through his hair anxiously. "Listen, after you check in with the school. You're no longer my or the government's responsibility. But that's after you check in. That also means no more support from us, no funds, housing or food. Go to the school, get situated and build a foundation for yourself son."
His words held some truth and struck a soft subject for Sam, softening his resolve. Monahan continued. "I know this has been hard but you're almost free." Standing from the bed he approached Sam resting his hand on his shoulder. "Just check it out, I can't and won't leave you alone until you do." He smiled as he removed his hand and made his way to the door. "Don't make me come find you…" he warned with a wave before exiting the room.

For a few seconds Sam just stood there pondering his next move. He moved toward the folder dumping the contents onto the table, before finding what he was looking for. He pulled the yellow post-it from the pile and looked at it closely.
"School for the Gifted…huh?"

Samuel looked around with a start, realizing the familiar interior of the tent. Compared to the ones he was used to sleeping in this one was far larger, decorated with pillows and furniture. A desk was off in the corner beside the bed, and a small bookshelf next to that. Yes, he knew this tent well. His eyes continued to search the tent as he seemed alone, then himself.
He tugged on the familiar oversized and sweaty green fabric of his shirt, legs covered in olive cargo pants too loose for his pre-teen frame. A young boy's suit belt holding them in place. His boots were muddy and torn held together with duct tape in some spots. He looked like he hadn't washed in days. He felt a cold shiver of fear rush through his body, before automatically snapping to stand at attention.
This was Koffi's tent, the Commander's quarters.

"You, my boy, are special. Deadly yet so beautiful….my lil Viper…" The voice spoke with a thick Afro-French accent. The tone was deep and guttural, almost harsh to the ears. Koffi was a large man 6'6 280 pounds of chiseled war-hardened steel. Four decades of seeing nothing but war, violence and pain.
"I knew from the day we found you, you'd serve me well...now look at you almost a man…."
From nowhere Sam felt the powerful man's hands on his neck, his grasp inescapable as the massive silhouette emerged from the darkness.
"To better serve the federation, and to better serve me…" Koffi licked his cheek before throwing him onto the bed. "..I will make you a man…"

Terrified Samuel jumped up from his motel room bed and onto the floor, wrist blades fully extended, scooting himself against the nightstand between the bed and wall. His pulse was racing, beads of sweat raced down his forehead, only to merge with tears. He struggled to calm himself down, reminding himself it was just a dream. This is why he hated sleep. He forced himself to try and relax, unclenched fist allowing the blades in his forearms to retreat. He looked at the clock behind him, it was 5:45 am. He looked to the bed to the left of him.

"Guess I'm up for the day…" Preferring his early morning to anything the bed could offer. Rising to his feet he made his way to the bathroom to start his morning hygiene and get so he could get dressed.

About an hour later, he would emerge from his room; loose-fitting blue jeans would hold firmly at his waist via a black leather belt. He wasn't one to expose his drawers like most trends suggest. He would wear his grey hoodie over his white t-shirt, adjusting it so everything hung and fit comfortably. Pulling his hair back into a low ponytail before securing it with a rubber band. With no real destination, and a day to waste he set out to explore his new city.