If you don't like OCs, turn back now.
I do not own the idea of Maximum Ride and mutants in strange laboratories called schools.
...Yeah... I kind of don't want to either... *ducks behind her desk before someone chucks a book at her*
Another Alley Cat Tale
A Prologue like Any Other
Welcome to the School
A boy of no older than twelve lay in a cage only big enough if he pulled his knees up to his chest. The clothes he wore were ragged and torn, a pair of simple jeans and a simple, grimy, short sleeved shirt. Around his throat, which looked to be scarred due to some kind of burning, was what one might have taken to be a metal collar. Every few moments, it would give a soft beep and a little red light would flicker.
Long black hair was around his shoulders, raged and ungroomed, and through the young boy's ratty bangs shined an orb of gold in the right and a sphere of icy blue in the left. Both orbs looked dull and lifeless as well as the face that held them red and puffy from tears. Raven black ears sat on the top of his head and a tail curled around his small yet agile form.
The boy seemed to be gripping the hand of another. The skin was pale, though also grimy, and was connected to a boy in the cage next door. This young man seemed to be about the age of fourteen, though he sat up and leaned his blonde head against the bars of his prison.
This boy's, what might have been silver, eyes were just as tired and lifeless looking as the other boy's, hiding behind what might have been at one time beautifully fair blonde hair. He too wore dirty clothing as well as had the strange device around his neck.
The thing that might have made him abnormal might have been the fact that there were dove gray wings probing from his shoulders… But even they seemed to fit into place with this somehow beautiful young boy.
The blonde gave the other boy's hand a light squeeze, causing the other's ears to twitch and tail to flick. A returning squeeze was all that was given as a reply.
As the sound of clicking heels echoed throughout the room, full of groans and moans and the occasional gurgle, full of dozens upon dozens of cages with many more children, the two boys separated their hands and closed their eyes to forge sleep.
A rather sour woman walked down the hall, her face hard with what might have been determination. Red hair was put up in a tight bun and glasses sat on the edge of her nose.
Her heel clicking came to a stop as she looked down at the younger boy through iron bars. A clipboard sat easily in one arm as her free hand wrote on the paper it held.
Tap, tap, tap!
"R forty-eight," the woman stated as she read off the identification tag attached to the iron prison, tapping it lightly with her pencil. "Black panther, twelve years old… Hm, so you're the one that survived out of the panther digestion failures…"
The boy simply gave a flick of his tail in reply, taking a deep breath before exhaling quietly.
The woman did not seemed as much bothered by the reply as much as annoyed; still, she simply went to the winged boy's cage next. "R forty-seven," she read. "Dove, fourteen years old…"
The blonde glanced up at his identification. "Yes?" he asked, voice somewhat scratchy.
"So you can talk." Writing down a few notes, the woman kneeled down to be at eye level with him.
The boy, in return, sat up a little straighter, his silver eyes still fairly dull. On the other hand, the younger boy stiffened, ears going against his head as his suddenly bright, alert eyes turned to watch the woman carefully.
The red haired lady seemed to raise an eyebrow in interest, but asked, "What do you think of this place?"
The blonde haired boy simply stared at her, wing giving the odd twitch here and there.
When she did not get a reply, the spectacle wearing woman stated a, "you have permission to speak."
Another moment of booming silence greeted her request.
The woman gave a frown before fishing a small remote-like device from her lab coat pocket and narrowed her eyes. "Speak."
The blonde haired boy flinched back at the device. The boy in the other cage had sat up slowly, ears down in fear. "Why waste my breath?" the blonde finally asked in a nervous tone, "When anything I say is simply data to you?"
The woman's mouth fell open. She obviously hadn't expected such an answer from someone whom looked half dead. Her hand made the motion to activate the small device in her hand, "Smart mouthed little…!"
"No!" came the cry of the other boy. He had lunged at her from his cage, an arm swiping to knock the red head's glasses from their perch on her nose.
Unfortunately, the woman turned on him, a small click of sorts coming from the device.
The crackle of electricity filled the air followed closely by the child letting out a blood curdling scream of pain that was only cut short by the boy biting into his lip. After the initial shock had died down, the boy found himself curling into a ball, twitching every now and then, as well as letting out the odd whimper.
The blonde let out a gasp, eyes glued to the device in the woman's hand until she replaced it back to her pocket.
"You seem to have some extra energy," she commented simply, sparing the smaller boy but a glance. "I'll see if there's any way of putting you in for the more difficult tests."
The clicking of the woman's heels died down after she picked up her glasses and walked off… Probably to torture some other innocent soul, the blonde thought bitterly was he reached out a hand to pet the younger boy's head comfortingly.
The black haired boy was shaking like a leaf as liquid crystal rolled down his cheeks.
What day was it?
How long had it been?
A day?
A year?
A century?
"How long… Have I been in Hell?" he whispered.
Okay, let's make this clear:
The characters in this story are no way related to any of the original Maximum Ride characters. The most that they might be affected will be the rippling affects the Flock caused in their fugitive arc.
So anyways, thanks for reading.
This story is basically the history for one of my characters on DeviantART for a role playing group... Yes, I RP. Shut up. It's fun!
...So yeah... And yes. It will be very dramatic... but then again, we were never really told what goes on in the schools, leaving it to our imaginations.