This story follows the hypothetical that The Flock stayed in DC with Anne(and she didn't suck), and Jeb sends my OC Vivian heart after them to spy on them. At this point, all of them are three years older. Max, Fang, and Iggy are all seventeen, Nudge is fourteen, Gazzy is eleven, and Angel is nine. It contains both Fissa and Mam(Sax?), but that quickly turns to Fax, and hints of Vang and Miggy, but that also remedies itself rather quickly, turning into Viggy. It sounds like a whorefest, I know, but it really isn't like that. D: It follows the perspectives of Vivian and Max, with an occasional interlude Fang and Iggy's perspectives. I promise I won't talk this much in later chapters, I just have a lot to say that I couldn't in the description.
Uh, I do not own Maximum Ride, or any of the characters, but I do own Vivian Heart and her alter-ego, and this version of the story.
'The lioness stalks her prey...'
This was all I could think of as I hid in the shadows of a filthy ally, watching a man watch a woman. She was beautiful. Tall, blonde, modest but carried herself confidently. Anybody could see why this creep chose her to stalk. She was out of his league, too. He most likely worked in a blindingly florescent office as another minor cog in the company, and another piece of unnoticeable drywall to society. He was coming up behind her, trying to find the right moment to pull that rag over her mouth while she walked, unsuspecting. I did this as well, waiting for just the right moment to bring him the surprise of his life. He was in for Hell. At least, that's what I thought.
At about six meters away, I walked out of the shadows, making sure the stepping from my boots was heard. I stopped in the middle of the ally-way, resting my hands on my hips and stretching my wings out as far as I could in the tiny ally. The man whipped around to face me, ready to attack whoever dared disturb his carefully planned strategy. He stopped dead, though, his features twisting into a mixture of fear and surprise. The girl he was stalking walked on in ignorance, but he looked like he was ready to piss himself.
"Archangel Gabrielle..." He gasped. I smirked. The way my name rolled off of the tongues of the scum of the earth made the adrenaline course through my body in the most pleasant of ways. He bolted, running in the opposite direction. I grinned, and flew up, planning to dive towards him in a flashy display and swoop him up into the air. Just as I was about to dive, though, I heard a terrible screeching erupt from somewhere. Wind whipped around me, the sound of helicopter blades cutting through air and a huge spotlight clicked on.
I looked up, up at the chopper. Inside? I man in a suit, grinning evilly at me. An Eraser. Confused, I look down at the criminal. He was grinning in horrible satisfaction as he glared up at me. At this point I realize what this is. A big, fat trap. I growl, and try desperately to find a place to fly, but there is no where to go, and I can't hear anything. This is futile... I think before a sharp pain pierces my neck. The corners of my vision fade in, and I begin to fall. The last thing I hear is "Goodnight, Gabrielle", and the last thing I see is the trampoline meant to catch me as I plummet to the ground.
It is 1998, and a young girl is on the floor, rasping breathlessly. Sweat pours down her forehead, and her cheeks are wet with salty tears. She has a metal device cuffed to her ankle, and wires that run from it to her forehead. Her fists clench and unclench as she tries to bare the pain of not only her exhaustion, but the low current of electricity coursing through her body.
"Давай, двигаться." Says a voice to the girl. The electricity increases, and she bites her lip to prevent a scream from ripping it's way out of her throat. She gets up, and unfolds her wings. She begins to fly.
This girl is an experiment, a branch of the Angel Experiment project. JebBatchelder the scientist is in Russia, observing the behaviors of his only experiment that is used purely for testing. Vivian Heart was created in Russia out of a test tube so that anything they thought of trying on their human-born subject would have been tested first. Right now, they are testing her on her ability to withstand the horrible headaches and the inter-neurological communication. This was later used on a different subject after being proven to work on Vivian.
Feedback was heard, her head throbs and she seethes, dropping to the ground. A whitecoat walks over to her, his deep Russian voice piercing her eardrums harshly. "Вставай, попробуйте еще раз." He says, kicking her in the side. Her head pounds, but she rises slowly, and tries to fly again. The headache gets stronger, and she gasps, falling down feet away from where she started. Electricity. Sobbing. She tried to claw at the device on her ankle, but she only get shocked at a higher voltage. The voice in her head tells her to keep going, that's she's special. She picks herself up, goes into the air. It rewards her with compliments. Tells her she is special. She knows what she is, though, and curses at him in her native tongue.
The headaches become stronger, and then she goes numb. She feels nothing, and she's about to faint, but she pushes, harder, harder.
'Remarkable!' The voice tells her, in unison with the Russian that is being spoken to her. She flinches, and drops to the ground, unconsciously giving up on what she was here for.
"В-фигня." She mumbles faintly before loosing consciousness.
I bolted awake, sweating profusely. It took me a moment to realize that is was all a horrible nightmare. Although, upon glancing around, I realize that it's also a reality. I am at the school. I can tell by the bed, the walls, the equipment. This is no normal hospital. I calm my breath as I look down at my arm. There is an IV stuck into it, feeding me painkillers. At first I think. 'Well fuck, they dropped me...' But then I remembered that it was more likely that I needed it then not. Knowing where I was... I wondered how long I had been out. I pulled the IV out of my arm, very carefully, and pressed my index finger over the wound. Then I pulled the heart monitor off my stomach and got out of my bed. It was at this point that I felt my stomach, stiff and wrapped up. I gasped.
"No way..." I muttered, stumbling over to the bandage cabinet. It dawned on me that they performed some sort of surgery on me. I growled, but proceeded to fumble around for something to press over my arm. I settled on a cotton ball and a band-aid. Suddenly, an alarm went off. I looked around frantically. It was the heart monitor. It had flat-lined. A team of nurses rushed in and picked me up, shoving me into my bed and strapping me down. Soon, a familiar face showed himself. Jeb.
Jeb, the bastard. I hated him, and everything about him. He strode over, dismissing the nurses. They closed the door behind themselves and left me alone. There wasn't a thing in the world I wouldn't rather be doing then being strapped to a bed, alone in a room with Jeb. Why? Ask my stomach. He, however, seemed to have the sullen look of 'I come in peace' on his face. I sneered.
"What do you want with me?" I spat. He raised an eyebrow.
"Vivian. Still as feisty as ever, I see." He remarked, a sad smile on his face.
"With good reason, вы задницу." I remarked. He chuckled, brushing off the foreign-tongued insult. He walked closer, resting his hand on the bed bar.
"Vivian, I am prepared to offer you your freedom." He said. I gave him a look that said 'Go on...' And he nodded. "You must be a spy for me. Spy on The Flock, and I will-"
"No." I remarked flatly. I'd have nothing to do with his most successful. There was something about them ,as a unit that really pissed me off. Plus, I didn't want to hang around two children, a blind kid, a brooding emo, and their self righteous but ever humble leader, Max. Max, being the heroine, I had learned her name fast with the constant pressure of her being better then me. I could care less what the rest of their names where. Jeb frowned at my clear irritation.
"Listen, you could get your freedom. You will never be chased or hunted or tested on again." He said. Tempting, sure, but I didn't believe him.
"I had my freedom. Without your 'permission'." I remarked.
"And look where it got you. Just think about it, Vivian." He remarked. I shook my head. His face turned soft. "I'm afraid you have no choice. With that chip in you, you will always be tracked, and we won't give you up without equal compensation." He said. Great. Now mere information on them was worth more then me. I hung my head.
"Okay." I remarked. He smiled, and walked over to the corner of the room.
"Great!" He said. "In anticipation of your compliance, I have packed your bags. It has a prepaid cellphone with my number only, your police radio, bandages, painkillers, and a credit card. Your account password is your Alias." He remarked, plopping the bag on my bed, and walking up to my restraints. He began to unstrap me. "You've also been enrolled in their school, to observe them on a more personal level, and give you the opportunity to gain their trust. I've packed your paperwork and the check for your uniform. Don't reveal yourself there, but make sure they see you when you're out, and make sure they make the connection." He said, unstrapping my arms, and moving to my legs.
"How do I get them to notice if I can't reveal myself in school?" I asked. He smirked.
"Be yourself. Be the flashy, crime fighting girl you've been since you last escaped, Archangel Gabrielle." He said, finishing up the unstrapping. He said the Alias I go by in sarcasm. "The second you hear a major crime, go for it as fast as possible, and make a scene." He said.
"How do you know they'll ask me to stay with them?" I asked.
"Because I know Max." He said. I scoffed, and got up from my bed. Then I felt a pain in my side. The killers where wearing off.
"Hey, by the way, what did you do to me?" I asked. He raised an eyebrow.
"Just a few minor surgeries we didn't get to complete before you took off on us last time." He said. That meant he didn't want to tell me.
"Well, alright. Get out so I can change." I remarked. He nodded, and opened the door.
"Be careful flying, you might pop the stitches." He said before leaving. I growled under my breath. I pulled my gown off effortlessly, and then quickly garbed myself in my black hero costume. I slipped the boots and mask on, and then completed it with my pink wig. I made sure to stick to the shadows as I exited the building, and then took off for Washinton D.C., thinking Hell, this may be fun.