*is sad* I'm begging you to please give this story a chance. I know, I know, he's dylan, but still. It's his real story. Please give it a chance. Everyone who comments gets a virtual cookie! (oh and to those who already commented, thanks! I smile about this big when you do :DDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDD)
ANYWHO, on with the story...
3 Months. 3 Months had passed.
The time went anything but fast.
At first the idea of him being a clone was unbelievable. It was impossible. He was himself. He had to be. He could feel every memory; he could remember. He was a person, he wasn't a person of a person.
He had seen clones in movies. Lifeless. Emotionless. Not a speck of any feeling shining in their eyes. Almost-robotic. they just stood there, dead, taking orders.
But he wasn't that. How could he be? He had a heart, and a mind. Imagination, sarcasm, feelings.
He was just an organism. Just an experiment. They had ripped the other Dylan's cells, the other dylans feelings, memories, and banded them together. And he was the result.
He had been furious at first. And confused. And sad. Before he had any control, he had the weak doctor slammed on the floor. The outcome had him sedated and a weak three days under severe watch.
When he was deemed 'Controlled' the doctor had explained what he was.
The real Dylan was far too in pain to continue going. They 'took care of him', which sent shivers down his spine every thought of it. Well the brain and heart, and such, were still living they created him.
He was Dylan, technically. His soul had just transferred from one body to another.
He didn't like thinking about it. Mentioning it. It was weird and sent his mind spiraling.
When he was finally out of care, he was tested. His speed, his strength, his mind. Pushed in every direction to be perfect.
Daily needles were expected and accepted now to him. Eventually the sting dissolved. Every new chemical they could find to make him perfect was plunged into his skin. A chemical to stop pimples, boyles, and everything else, stop, making his skin smooth and perfect. His eyes and hair genetically enhanced. His speed increasing at multiple rates.
He wondered if it went wrong they would replace him with another Dylan.
At first he had refused. It was enough to be a clone, a winged-bird kid, but and experiment? He didn't want any of that creepy Doctors inventions poking into his blood. But of course He brought up the 'Bell and Amelie' thing. He accepted after that.
It wasn't such a bad price to pay. Be perfect and get his life back. Fine, right?
But he knew there was a catch. Just like with all bad guys, there was a catch.
The days would tick away slow. His agenda was the same. Race, run as fast as you can, or have werewolves make you run as fast as you can. Lift items and throw them, fight with all your strength. Then go to testing on the mind, which is way worse then all advanced schools combined.
Not one allowed him to use his wings. Which bugged him. He wanted to see them, to touch them, to fly. They were itching him to get out.
Amelie and Bell constantly crossed his mind. If he was technically dead, were they doing the same to them? Would they be nothing but clones?
His mom crossed his mind as well. She had already lost his father when he was five, now she thought her only kids were dead. Dylan wanted to be home, let her know he was fine.
He thought about the 'flock' too, sometimes. He was basically being trained, alive, to fit in with them. To make the leader fall in love with him. Only to break her heart, he would add. Doctor would show him clips in the spare time of them, and pictures. Slowly, he grew to know more and more about them.
He wondered what was going on in the Doctor's sick mind.
If he really wanted to know.
Oh cliffhanger...well sort of. This chapter was just a filler basically. Just Dylan's thoughts and all. Yeah. Not all that interesting. But the next chapter will be! I promise! Hope you liked this chapter! Thank you to Around the World and Back my only reviewer for chapter two and three.