Fang sat, his vision distorted by the dog cage he had been thrown in. A man in a white lab coat kneeled by him, holding a long, metal needle filled with pale yellow liquid. Shirking back against the cage wouldn't help; he had already tried doing that dozens upon dozens of times. All that had earned him was a shock, delivered through the bottom of his small enclosure. So, instead, he sat motionless as the metal sliced through his skin, dreading what the after-effect would be. Taking its place next to all the others, a red mark swelled in the needle's wake.
He was in this crate for a reason. This body, his body, had been cursed. A fate that he could never escape tormented him everyday, and everyday he paid the price. Be it grotesque experiments or tortuous events, he had suffered through them all for nine years. In this cage he couldn't even show what made him a target. The space was far too small for him to extend his almost fully-grown wings, eleven feet wide and black as the night. Though many ordinary people wanted wings, few are willing to even consider the consequences of his personal nightmare.
Even before he was born, the bird DNA had been a part of him. He had been stolen from his biological parents- one of his favourite pastimes was wondering just who they were, if they missed him, or if they were even alive. After that, the labs had raised him, if you could even call it that. Learning English by listening to hushed conversations, never having seen food above the level of animal feed; it wasn't the best way to live.
In the crate beside him Max stirred, her tawny wings peeking out of holes torn in her already ratty clothes. Her head turned to gaze at him, a mixture of anger and disgust clear on her face. If Fang respected one person, it was Max. Equipped with a sharp tongue, she could make anyone feel like a complete moron in less than a minute, an accomplishment that didn't come without consequences. Max's skin was more bruised than not, and red stained every article of her clothes. She was stronger than him, both physically and mentally. That's why she was in charge, their trusted and strong-willed leader. Of course, being held captive in a lab left little choices, so being the leader was comparative to being a representative.
Nudge and Iggy, in their own respective crates, were whispering quietly to each other in the smallest voices imaginable. You had to be quiet and sit still, a lesson that had been drilled into their heads since they were little. Or smaller, as it seemed; they were really never 'little'. At age four, thanks to the bird DNA, their bodies had grown to the size of average fourth graders. Logically, you'd think the small space of the crates would have hampered their growth. Guess not.
Along with their abnormal size, the bird DNA also impacted several other characteristics-one example being the need for food. While normal kids needed at least 2000 calories a day, Fang and his merry bird kid squad averaged at around 3000. Though the scientists had figured this out, they willingly neglected it. One of the main reasons they weren't picky eaters stemmed from the need to survive. As Max had wisely (bitterly) commented, "It's not like we have a choice."
Fang glanced over at Angel, who was fixing Max with an intense gaze. For a two year old, she was exceptionally tall, resembling a six-year-old child. There was something about her that disturbed him, a gut feeling that he just couldn't ignore. Max seemed to love her though, so he supposed he could trust the little girl. She truly did resemble an angel, with her cherub-like wings and strawberry blonde hair. Even in the bad lighting, caked with dirt, she somehow managed to have a shining aura about her.
Last but not least, Fang checked out the last creature that was a bird-human mix; Gazzy, a nice little three-year-old with an odd digestive system. Nobody knew how that had happened, but it was safer to stay away from him after meals. Which you know, is kind of hard to do when you're locked in dog cages. He had soft dappled wings, crusted with weeks' worth of dirt and grime.
His 'family' was here, and although he would never ever admit it, he loved them more than anything. He wasn't good with words anyway; social skills weren't part of the program here. It was far smarter to keep your mouth shut and your expression blank, not giving them the satisfaction of seeing you squirm. Max had taught him that. Minus the mouth shut part, of course.
Suddenly the heavy iron door opened with a slow, fluid motion. Shoes pounded on the hard linoleum, causing a knot in the pit of his stomach. When they finally stopped, the knot had evolved into a horrid feeling that made his palms damp with sweat. The shoes tapped over, past his cage, and his feeling of dread grew. His fears, which had always been justified, were confirmed. Fang heard a click, then Max's dry voice.
"Here for another check-up? I must say, the room service sucks here." she taunted, her dirty blonde hair hanging in front of her face. Fang shuffled over, trying to see more while looking unconcerned.
"I don't want to hurt you; we just need to do some more experiments." The man insisted. "I must warn you, if you continue to resist I will have to resort to violence, and neither of us want that." Max scoffed, smirking in a way that seemed to shake the man.
"Are you kidding me? Saying you don't want to hurt me, look at this! Do you have eyes? Or did they experiment on you, like they did to Iggy? And trust me, I really do want to use a whole lot of violence on you, you—"
A loud thwack was heard, and Fang saw Max's head swing to the side as blood splattered from her mouth. She glared up at the man, enraged.
"You will come with me now," he said, feeling more in control now that he had a false sense of superiority. "No more arguing. Do not make me repeat this incident." Max tilted her head up, and defiantly spit a stream of crimson blood at his face. The man recoiled, grabbing her arms with such force that his knuckles turned white. He murmured a threat to Max, who didn't even blink, then dragged her beaten form out of the room. No doubt she would be worse for wear later.
Although he didn't show it, Fang was shaking on the inside. No matter how incredibly selfish, he hoped beyond what was acceptable that she would come back. Even though they had all agreed that death would be the best and most welcome escape, he couldn't stand losing her. It would crack his remaining sanity, break him beyond repair.
He hated his body, for all that it promised but lacked. He was stronger than a human, but not strategic enough to escape. He was faster than any known being in the world, yet it wouldn't do any good. He wanted to leave so, so much…but he just couldn't, not with two toddlers and three other children. He was only nine, and there was only so much he could possibly do.
So he promised himself. Every time they took her away, or injected him with fluids, or made them run endless laps in order to test their limits. He promised that when he was older, he would learn more. Be more composed and calm, be someone that even Max could rely on. If he ever did escape, he would fly and learn to fight with precision instead of counting on brute strength. Emotions like this helpless fear wouldn't hinder him, and all he would care about was his makeshift family.
When he got older, he would be strong enough to beat these monsters, and that's the only thought that got him through the night.