AN: Don't own, don't sue. Period.


CHAPTER 1: CAT


They say, they don't trust,
You, me, we, us,
So we'll fall if we must,
Cause it's you, me,
And it's all about,
It's all about...

All About Us, TATU


June 21, 2005

Wouldn't have been great if the oh so amazing Maximum Ride and her flock broke into the Institute and set all the poor caged mutants free?

Too bad she didn't.

Sadly, there were a few of us that were taken to the heart of the building and stowed there.

There, they lay forgotten, even by those they loved.

How do I know this? Simple. I'm one of them. One of the Left Behind, the Forgotten.

My name is Cat, and this is my story

~*KA-POW*~

You know, I should probably rephrase my opening statement. I sound bitter. But whatever.

Alright, before I start, there's a few things you should know about us.

First off, we aren't a flock. Most of us don't even have wings. I'm not one of the lucky ones who did get them.

Second, we were never ever meant to meet. Not like Maximum and her All-American flock, who had been carefully selected and bred in California, with their stunning good looks and flawless actions. Hey, the US base, the US looks. God, there's like, four blondes in the whole group. Counting Maximum, who has brownish blonde hair, but whatever. It's close enough. You got Angelic Doll, Adorable Devil, Brown Beauty, Pretty Boy, Mr. Tall-Dark-and-Handsome, and Maximum Supermodel to boot. How do I know this? Simple. We saw them. And they were good, but more than that, they were hot. Even the girls. Oh, I went there. So sue me if I called another girl gorgeous.

No, dear readers, we are a rag-tag group of mismatched failures. Hell, sometimes we can't even keep track of our members. We're just that uncoordinated.

Third, we're slated for termination.

I know, I know, so totally cliché. The whole, 'oh no, pity me, for my life is about to be snuffed out.' Yeah. I've always hated sob stories – sadly, right now I'm living one.

But I digress.

Our youngest member is Ember. She's a nine-year-old gun-totin' pyromaniac with attitude problems. Well, minus the gun-toting. But she's a damn good shot if I've ever seen one. Lucky bitch got hawk DNA, giving her wicked sharp eyesight and a pair of flippin' huge wings. Oh yes, I do swear. Have been for a few years. Nasty habit I picked up from one of the senior members, Lana. Bitch can swear in more languages than all of us put together. And she's only nineteen.

Oh yes, I said that. I just dethroned Maximum Ride as Girl Wonder, First Experiment Extraordinaire. Maximum, as I'm sure you've heard, is the first hybrid.

You know what I say to that? Bullshit.

Just 'cause she's the oldest to escape doesn't mean that she's the oldest made. Actually, Ax was the oldest that I know of. He would've been twenty-three today, 'cept for the fact he was caught trying to escape, and was promptly gunned down. Yes, I know. Tears for the fallen comrade and all that shit.

But I'm getting sidetracked.

Em's from Ireland (came here at seven), and isn't exactly what you'd call pretty. She's pretty normal. The only thing different is her hair, which is the most vivid shade of red I've ever seen. But seriously. It, like, glows like fire. Like, really really really bright red. I shit you not.

The next is Tan. An abbreviation for katana, like the sword. He's got a real thing for pointy edges. He picked his name when he fell in love with the picture of a real katana. The picture came from a weapon magazine the metalheads left lying around on the floor. He's about eleven, I think. We think he's got some kind of snakey DNA because the kid is the most flexible and skinny mutant I've ever known. And that's saying something. Tan's from the Japan base, somewhere beneath Tokyo. Got transferred here at age eight. Don't ask me why. He still won't talk about it. I think the only one who really knows is Em, 'cause they're like best buddies or something. He's a cute kid, a little bit on the girly side, with almond-shaped and colored eyes and the softest and fluffiest black hair you could ever imagine. He's a beautiful kid, but hey, I'm not complaining.

Then there's me. Unlike the rest, I'm a native, but I come from down 'round Florida. Or Georgia. It was somewhere in the South. Anyways, I've got some kind of panther or lion or tiger DNA in me. Take your pick.

Unlike the others of my group, I really love hand to hand combat. And not the prissy finicky martial arts they teach to the norms now. I like street fighting, fast, furious, and dirty. Let your guard halfway down, I'll kick you in the balls. Lower it all the way, and sorry buddy, you just bought a one-way ticket to the undertaker's. I fight with everything I've got. Feet, hands, claws, teeth, anything. It's why I'm named Cat. It's short for Hellcat, to be precise, but I've learned that norms, hell, even mutants, look at you funny when you introduce yourself as Hellcat, no matter how accurate it may be. Yeah.

After me, it's Murray. The girl's from all the way down under. You know, Australia. She's part otter, too. Well, a vicious and blood thirsty otter, but then, we all are. Vicious and bloodthirsty, I mean. It's the whole reason why we're here. She's the worst out of all of us, though. She's got a quick temper and a mean sadistic streak a mile wide. And she's a totally amazing swimmer, which is always a plus. She's got blue eyes and long blonde hair, her pride and joy, and won't dye or cut it, despite the fact that we try to make her realize that otters don't have blonde hair. She's got her moments where she can be the devil incarnate or one of the ditziest girls you've ever seen, but we love her anyways. She's a year older than me, fourteen.

Then, our self-designated leader is Locke. Play on the word loco, meaning crazy in Spanish (see? I'm not totally uneducated). And he's crazy. In a good way, a good way. He's got fox DNA, no doubt about it. He's the oldest at sixteen, and he's had the hardest time out of all of us. He's tough as nails and as blunt as a fucking nail head, but he gets the job done. He's the sneakiest, most manipulative, and generally the most experienced with all things. So, like I said, the fox fits him the best. And he's got the furry reddish-brown hair to prove it. And it's furry. Did I mention furry? I did. Good. Because it is important to stress that Locke is furry. Not fluffy (that's Tan), not sleek (that's Murray), not puffy (that's Ember), not even fuzzy (that's me). He. Is. FURRY.

Yeah.

All of us are special. Not because of who we are, what we've done (though that's part of it), which animal we were mixed with, what powers we have, or anything like that. We're special because of our track record. It's also why we're slated for termination first when they finish the serum. Which is something I don't get. I mean, really, they could just, you know, shoot us. Or chop off our heads! Hell, there's a bunch of different ways to die in under ten seconds. But yeah. We're kinda the rebels. The ones that are just unable to be controlled. We all have a record for destroying the most property ever in almost a century. And we're goddamn proud of it.

So now we're in the bowels of the seventh level of hell, about to see if there's an eighth. Consequently, we were not freed with the rest. I feel for them. I really do. Poor little midgets, couldn't even speak. Only Aria could, but she's only one. But that's past now.

Their calling for us now. Hey, whoever reads this, if you find my corpse, tell everyone I died a hero, right?

You will?

No?

Ah well, too much to hope for. Murray always said I was a drama queen. Just 'cause she's got the emotional quagmire of a tablespoon, doesn't mean she has to take it out on us (*coughhackMEraspchoke*).

God.


Sooooooo, whaddaya think? Didn't mean to come off as a bashing fic, but that's just the other experiments opinion on the Flock. They range from hero-worship, to eternal gratitude, to indifference, to downright loathing. This is just one of the viewpoints.

Errrm, well, this won't be written like a traditional fic. I'm trying to put it in First Person POV, kinda like diary entries. There'll be some from Ember, Tan, Cat, Murray, and Locke. Some of the terminology will differ from the book (whitecoat = metalhead; human/non-mutants = norms), but mostly similar.

Please tell me what you thought of this style of writing. It's the first time I actually tried it.

You see? I did put Aria in here. Now, she's the girl who the flock set free, the only one that could talk. Yeppers, that's her.

Review, my pretties! *does cackling laugh like the Wicked Witch of the West*

~Becca