I stood with my hands hanging grimly at my sides, only vaguely aware that my normally close-bit nails were growing into sharp, deadly claws. Unprovoked anger bottled up inside me until I thought I would burst, blotting out every other emotion or thought except for my newly sharpened senses.
Basically, I felt as if I was in the suspended state of being wrenched out of sleep by a particularly high-pitched alarm clock; everything was sharp and intense after the gentleness of a dream world. The ridges in the stone walls that surrounded me were distinct despite the dull light. I was aware of each drop of sweat mixed with dirty water that trickled slowly down my face and the sound of distant tennis shoes on the hard ground shrieked in my ears painfully.
I blinked my now wolfish eyes and the flock appeared. They stood against the slightly moist wall and even in my current state I could see Angel's eyes, glassy with worry and repressed tears. Nudge, too, appeared to be struggling: her jaw was positioned back tightly the way she had held it trying to learn spelling words during our brief stint at school. Fang had completely dropped his mask of indifference and his face was streaked with concern.
With every fiber of my being I wanted to run to them, to tell them that it was all going to be alright—even if I didn't know that for sure. Eraser Max, who used to taunt me from mirrors, had other plans. She and the hatred I now recognized as hers seeped into my soul, staining it forever. Somehow she had taken hold of my body, leaving only a tiny bit of me left. I could feel myself lunge powerfully at Iggy. It was a blow meant to hurt and it took Iggy completely by surprise. She had done it. Eraser Max was in control of my body. Of course this would happen to me. Who else would have a deadly half-wolf version of themselves try to take over their body?
My own hands, complete with pointed claws, scratched Iggy again and again. Blood rushed out of his cuts, covering his pale face with lipstick-red blood. I could sense Eraser Max's sick pleasure as she watched Iggy struggle and the life drain of out his bright blue eyes.
The part of me left in my body burned. I had been through hell with Iggy (School) and came out alive. He was my brother and he had died by my own clawed hands. Sure, Iggy had gotten to me sometimes with his tendency to detonate bombs at exactly the wrong time (or the right one) and the way he teased me about my barely edible cooking, but I loved him. Now he was gone and nothing would change that—not to mention that his last few moments had probably convinced him that I was a complete traitor.
Now Eraser Max advanced on the others and killed the only people on the Earth that I had really loved using my body. (I like to ignore the fact that I used to love Jeb. Too bad that she didn't kill him instead.) Watching this was a billion-trillion-million-infinity times worse than any horror movie Iggy and Gazzy had ever begged to see. Watching their beautiful eyes cloud over and hearing their strong, quick mutant heartbeats slow and finally stop altogether could have killed me. It could have. And yet it didn't, and that was the worst part.
It wasn't until my own hands wrenched the life from Fang that I felt as if the entire world was empty and hollow, devoid of meaning beyond sorrow. He was the only one who didn't fight back. He barely winced as my claws sliced through his otherwise perfect skin. The little that was left of Maximum Ride silently begged him to fight. I remembered asking him if he would stop me if he needed to. He had promised, but I had always known he wouldn't, that he couldn't . . . and now he was proving that. I gave him an especially vicious cut and he looked into my eyes like he used to so often, as if he could see straight through my soul. His face was calm, serene, and most of all, undeservedly forgiving. As the light faded from his dark, penetrating eyes, a final whisper died on his flawless lips.
"I loved you, Max…"