I started this story roughly two months ago and it only recently occurred to me that I have a fanfiction account where I could put this up for all to see. Yup. Kat be derping again.
Unbound was a challenge from a friend of mine that I put off for three whole months before throwing myself in headfirst. I was to blend Soul Eater with Maximum Ride, and then have a few certain highlights from prompts. I swear, I never meant for Kill la Kill to nose its way in, but I wanted to borrow a few concepts. And characters. And more concepts. Hence, Unbound was born from the insanity of the merger. In the Maximum Ride world, this takes place roughly around the time the first book starts but Max has the Voice; in Soul Eater, this takes place directly after the prologues (and after the entire plot of Soul Eater NOT!), but the zombie thing with Sid already happened and Stein's now a professor - because I said so! The Kill la Kill timeline doesn't apply, so nobody go rush off to Google the entire plot this instant. Also, characters pulled from all three worlds may be changed at will to fit the plot (not just because I said so.) Another note: chapter names are the character from whose point of view the chapter will be in. Basically, if it says Fang, Fang will be your narrator. WARNING: SPOILERS FOR ALL THREE SERIES TO COME. Ahem. So, without further ado, Unbound.
Oh, and I own practically zilch, except for the minor OC's I'll need for literary support. Whoo.
Maximum Ride
"This ride that takes me through life leads me into darkness but emerges into light;
No one can ever slow me down. I'll stay unbound." - Unbound; Avenged Sevenfold
I don't know what I was expecting. A 'thank you' would have been nice. A Hallmark card would have been a little corny. But maybe once in a while, some appreciation would make the world go round.
I mean, I'm only suppose to save the world.
I'm Maximum Ride. Fourteen and proud. Oh, yeah. And I can fly.
You see, it doesn't take a genius to look at my wings and think hey, those look like they work, but it does take a genius to fuse avian DNA with human DNA. I'm only ninety-eight percent homo sapien, and that other two percent makes a big difference.
There's six of us: me, Fang, Iggy, Nudge, the Gasman, and Angel. Six winged kids running around. As though one of us wasn't enough. But together, we form the flock—a dysfunctional family that brings a whole new meaning to the word "normal." We were born in test tubes and raised in cages in a place called the School, a laboratory made especially for us mutant children. In fact, we would still be there if it wasn't for a whitecoat scientist named Jeb, the man who rescued us from the barred life four years ago and hid us far away in the mountains of Colorado. Granted, he dropped off the face of the earth two years ago, but I guess it's the thought that counts.
Just us six again. Just the bird-kids.
Well, us six, plus the poor woman who got caught up in the middle of our fight for survival.
The brunette let out a scream loud enough to wake the dead, ducking just in time to inadvertently avoid the downward slash of the Eraser's claws. I swung my feet forward and kicked out as hard as I could. My sneakers introduced themselves to the Eraser's head and the wolfman went sprawling across the ground at the woman's feet. Another scream threatened to burst my eardrums.
See? That's the second Eraser I've taken out for her.
"Max! Look out!"
Nudge's voice, sharp but not frantic, rang out from my five o'clock. I tucked in my wings and dropped the last few feet to the ground, landing in a low crouch, feathers brushing the earth. Wind whistled as the Eraser swooped over me. I felt part of his claws slice through my hair as he passed.
Teeth gritted, I planted one foot firmly on the ground, arched my back, and lashed upwards with the other foot. The connection sent a shock wave up my leg and the Eraser howled in pain. He slammed against the ground, rolled end over end, and eventually bounced off the truck of a tree.
But he didn't stay that way.
Snarling curses and animalistic growls alike, the Eraser heaved himself to his feet, one wing askew at a painful-looking angle. Blood tricked through the thick fur covering his face, staining the gray and brown with a russet hue. Sharp fangs protruded from a slavering mouth. Facing an Eraser head-on like this was a sure-fire reminder of why it's better to leave well and good enough alone. At first Erasers were human-wolf hybrids, but once realizing that the flock could, well, fly, then some brilliant whitecoat had the bright idea to sew on some patchwork wings and send them out to kill us. Again. A good thing for us—they weren't the most graceful mutants.
I didn't wait for him to attack; I lunged.
"Fang, get that woman out of here!" I yelled, landing a roundhouse kick smack-dab in the middle of the Eraser's chest. His back hit the tree with a crack.
"MAX!"
Angel.
I whirled around.
My baby—my little girl—was surrounded by three Eraser seventy feet above me.
Six years old, and surrounded.
Save Angel and leave the woman completely vulnerable. Save the woman and leave Angel to the wolves. Literally.
I didn't see the blur until it collided with the Eraser before me. Iggy shot me a thumbs up as the Eraser dropped like a sack of bricks. Guess that ninety pounds of amped up bird-kid isn't too pleasant to take to the gut.
Sometimes, I forget that Iggy's blind.
When he laced his hands together and extended them towards me, I didn't hesitate. [Great minds think alike.] I took a few steps and planted my foot into his grasp. Iggy thrusted me into the air and over his shoulder, and I kicked off of the tree truck before taking to the skies.
Sometimes, a little boost is appreciated when it comes to saving lives.
Gazzy had come to Angel's aid before me. I had to swoop to one side to avoid a falling Eraser who clutched his face and let out high-pitched yelping. By the time I ascended to their side, Erasers Two and Three didn't seem too keen on being outmaneuvered and outnumbered. If only they thought to retreat before I started punching.
Welcome to your self-help manual on how to beat Erasers.
Step one: inflict damage.
The first punch knocked Eraser Two sideways into Eraser Three, whose clipped wings sent him spiraling out of control. The second punch caught Eraser Two full in the stomach and he emitted a sound similar to a wheeze or a dying Whoopee Cushion.
Step two: inflict more damage.
A final kick to the skull brought him down right on top his friend. Having just recovered from his spin-out, Eraser Three had no time to dodge his falling buddy and the two plummeted towards the ground in a heap of fur and feathers.
Step three: enjoy the carnage.
"Angel, Gazzy, you guys okay?" I asked, wiping blood off of my knuckles and onto my pants.
"Did you see me, Max? I was all—bam! with those moves you showed me!" the Gasman said in excitement, a hint of laughter ringing in his voice. His entire body was coated in a thin layer of dirt that spiked the hair on his head and colored his white T-shirt tan.
At his side, Angel nodded. Blonde curls fell around her face in ringlets as dirty as her brother's hair. A jagged cut along the seam of her cream blouse exposed the white tank top underneath, but apart from a thin scratch trailing from the outside of her eyebrow down to her cheek, she looked unharmed.
Almost instinctively, my eyes fell to the clearing where the assault had first caught us. Iggy was helping Nudge to her feet, her arm thrown over his shoulders. The woman let out another shill cry before scrambling to her feet, swaying precariously, and fleeing into the dense underbrush lining the clearing. Fang-
Fang?
My gaze swept the clearing and what little I could see through the trees. No Fang.
Come to think of it, I hadn't seen Fang since the first Eraser dropped down on us.
"Sound off!" I said in a loud voice.
"All good!" The Gasman.
"Here." Angel.
"Nudge hit her head." Iggy.
"Ow." Nudge.
Still no Fang.
"Fang?" I called.
Zilch.
"This isn't funny!"
Nada.
Angel and Gazzy exchanged an uneasy glance. Even from this height, I could see Iggy's lips press themselves into thin lines. For once, the Nudge Channel wasn't running ninety miles an hour.
"Fang!"
