All the Maximum Ride characters in this book do not belong to me. Hope you like it


I had been walking around the same part of the woods for hours, letting the time slip out of my hands. I kicked at the leaves under my feet, my hands in my pockets and hood pulled up and over my white hair. This had to be my hundredth lap around the same huge boulder that I had made that night, just waiting for the sun to raise over the bare treetops. There truly was no better way of spending my time on Earth, for me time was only night and day, days and weeks had no meaning to a person with only one meaning in life.

I groaned as I looked to the east again, swearing I would give myself whiplash if I kept turning my neck like this. The moon still hung in the same place it had been the last ten times I had looked, and the other twenty times before that.

This wasn't working, there had to be a better distraction than literally walking in circles.

With two strides I reached the base of the huge rock, and with even more ease than breathing I scaled it, perching lightly at the top. My fingers dug into the hard stone, scraping some of it under my fingernails. I looked down to the ground, a good thirty feet down. I stood to my full six feet high still staring at the ground.

"Maybe… this might even hurt." I wished, then closing my eyes I stepped off, letting myself fall to the other rough rocks at the bottom. I felt the wind rush through my ears, but only for a moment before I unwillingly caught myself.

I landed so perfectly that I wanted to scream! I hadn't even opened my eyes, why was this happening! There wasn't a scratch or bruise on me, nothing.

Just like always, I felt nothing. And I hated myself for it.

The truth was I was the one of the most deadly and perfect killers in the entire world. I had been created, trained and forced to fallow whatever orders the men in the white coats told me.

Orders almost always came as taking someone out of the picture.

Orders were given often.

I had been trained, no, made to be perfect. I knew every way to break a neck, snap an arm and the best way to get any information needed. I was capable of doing the most extreme a human could manage, as if I was on an adrenaline rush that would last for hours. That's why when I had fallen from the rock to a certain broken something below I could save myself. My skin was thick, like armor, my strength unbeatable, I was always angry, always having a sick lust for death.

There was no escaping me. I couldn't even get away.

I hated myself, who I was and what I had done. You would think that if I was so awful, and I knew it, I would just end the constant pain. Trust me, I have tried. What do you think that last free fall was? Fun, no. It has been two years since I have felt anything. Love, hope, trust, and never pain. That last stunt was an attempt at giving me some sort of emotion.

Nothing.

Now you see why I wanted to scream, why I feel like slamming my head against the rocks under my feet. I swear I would too, but I was completely incapable of self inflicting any pain.

At least I could cry, but what was crying when you couldn't feel tears running down your face. I had given up on that a long time ago. I had forgotten a lot of things like that a long time ago.

Climbing back to the top of the boulder I looked to the horizon, then down to my left hand, covered by a frayed glove. I pulled at each finger, letting the fabric slide off my skin. Underneath were overlapping scares. They looked like what happens when you wake up from sleeping and you have lines on your arms from the blankets. Those go away though; mine have been with me all my life, spreading up my arm and around my shoulder, running half way down my spine. I sighed as I looked at them, another effect of being the monster I was.

Out of the corner of my eye I saw something; I looked in its direction just as a black speck fell out of the morning sky. I shoved my hand back into the glove and ran in its direction at a normal 30 miles per hour into the deep mist covered woods.