Hiya. Don't you just hate writers block? I have all of these ideas for new chapters of my existing fics, but when I look for a way to start it… nothing. Grr. But, maybe writing something else will help me think. Onwards!
Hold up… I hate it when I put the wrong word and mean something totally different. And… I have a poll up! Feel free to check it out! Kay, now onwards!
Max's POV
Bunnies are white. Bunnies have pink noses. Dylan is white. Dylan is going to have a bloody nose. Being cooped up in teeny tiny room with no windows, pacing, really makes you… crazy. I have been talking to myself for hour's non-stop about nothing. Not a thing. Just random bits and fragments of thoughts and ideas. If I was given anything sharp, even a freaking fork, I would put myself out of this misery. But no! Dylan is too smart to give me anything sharper than a plastic spoon. Then again, at least he's feeding me. Stale bread and dirty water. Appetizing. Prisoners get fed better than this, and they've killed and raped people!
To make things worse, there isn't enough room to spread my new limbs and test their ability to actually fly, so I'm forced to pace. It's not like I know how to fly, or that I even know where to start.
Some amount of time later, the door opened and I shied away from the light it provided. Dylan bounded down the steps and smiled brightly. The bastard.
"Max! Good to see you again. How is everything?" Did that even deserve a response? No. Glaring, now that was appropriate. Other things much worse than that would be appropriate as well, but I had only so many resources at hand.
"Tell you what," He said after a few minutes, "I'll take you outside to, ahem, stretch your wings…"
"You mean the wings you grafted onto me?" I snarled before he finished.
"Ah, Max, that's your problem. You react too quickly. I was going to say that you can go outside if you lose that nasty little temper, but seems to me like you still need a little adjusting." He smiled brightly. Such a stupid and naïve boy.
"I'll tell you what needs adjusting!" I screamed, charging at him. I didn't get far though. Quickly, he wheeled something I had least expected. A needle.
Mocking me slightly, he cooed, "Maxi need to calm down? Yes, Maxi does. Maxi needs to be a good bird." Crackling like a manic, he doubled over and slapped his knees, "Maxi want a cracker? 'Cause we can get a cracker down here if Maxi wants. But Maxi has to be a good girl. Good girl." Then… let's just say something even more unexpected happened.
The door creaked open the tiniest bit, and a shadow-like figure slid inside. Dylan was still recovering from a huge fit of laughter, so he didn't even notice. The shadow pressed his index finger to his lips, and revealed a weapon of great use. A baseball bat. As the buffoon in front of my continued to make cheesy bird jokes, I took a quick glance of the room that I had in my immediate view. No useable weapons; no chance to back the figure up if needed. Unless… well, the lead pipe connecting to the poor water system look easy to manipulate and disconnect from the wall. It was hanging down just barely out of reach of my left hand. If I moved quickly and yanked hard, it might be just what I needed. Hmmm…
Now Dylan seemed aware of the danger looming behind him. He looked over his shoulder and did a double take, just in time for Fang to swing the bat hard. It connected with Dylan's jaw, and I didn't hesitate. As the boys battled, Dylan baring his needle and Fang swinging his bat, I pulled the pipe with all my might. I honestly didn't think it would budge, but I guess Dylan and his freakish scientist buddies gave me an advantage with my wings. Greater strength. The pipe disconnected in my hand, and water sprayed everywhere.
Fang was seconds from losing, backed in a corner and ready to be struck by the liquid in the needle, when my lead pipe targeted Dylan's left side brain. A satisfying thud brought the sick and twisted man down, and brought my only attempt at freedom. Now, Fang and I booked up the stairs before anyone could stop us.
Fang's POV
Oh what the hell she said By the light of the moon And she says oh
I just can't win for losing
And she lays back down
Man there's so many times
I don't know what I'm doing
Like I don't know now
She rubs her eyes
Says it's funny how the night
Can make you blind
I can just imagine
And I don't know what I'm supposed to do
But if she feels bad then I do too
So I let her be
I can't take no more
Her tears like diamonds on the floor
And her diamonds bring me down
Cause I can't help her now
I turned the radio off with an angry flick of my wrist. I have enough problems of my own; I don't need to hear some other guy's pathetic plea for sympathy over the radio. But now the quiet in my car is deafening. I need something to steal my attention, rather than what Dylan is doing to Max as we speak.
I cringe as I think about how much longer she may have. I could have wasted a lot less time if I could fly to Max in a jet, but sadly, I am only one man. The government was more than willing to give me a ride… to each and every location where Dylan might be holding my Max. Not my Max. You get the damn point! The stupid government has a list of all of Dylan's recent locations and where do they check? The last freaking place on the freaking list first! Why not check out his most recent location, in Canada? It's pretty said when the average man is smarter than the many government officials. But you live and learn, right?
That would be why I am currently flying down the interstate, taking as least time as possible to get to Dylan.
In too much time to even compensate, I am finally arriving in the area I suspect Max is being hid. The last location Dylan was at happened to be 20 miles back, but an abandoned warehouse in the middle of scenic nowhere? Just too convenient, if you ask me.
Getting past security wasn't hard. I hid my face and flashed Jeb's id to slide right past the gate. Some people are so gullible. The old bomb shelter was surprisingly easy to find and get past as well. The door was shut, but not properly locked, signaling that someone was inside. Someone besides my Max.
"Maxi need to calm down? Yes, Maxi does. Maxi needs to be a good bird." Crackling like a manic, he doubled over and slapped his knees, "Maxi want a cracker? 'Cause we can get a cracker down here if Maxi wants. But Maxi has to be a good girl. Good girl." Hearing that voice made my sick to my stomach. Oh the things I would do to that boy when I finally got my hands on him. Or rather, when I hit him with the baseball bat I had stashed in the back on my car just in case.
Pressing my finger to my lips, I silently told Max to wait. I would attack when Dylan least expected it. I barely noticed her checking out the immediate area. I was too busy focusing on the space I would connect my bat too on Dylan's head. I was finally ready to swing, when Dylan looked back rather quickly. I almost froze, but knew it was too late. My target moved and I hit his jaw. The first blood was shed; the war had begun. He bore a needle, and I was only mildly concerned. He would need to corner me to use such a weapon.
I spoke too soon. He somehow managed to get the better of my and now his needle seemed like a much bigger threat. I was so focused on the man in front of me; I almost missed the water now spraying through the air. Wtf? Then… Max swung nothing short of a lead pipe, ripped from the plumbing. A satisfying thud brought Dylan down. Who knew such a hit to the left side brain could knock a man out? At that same moment, Max looked to the door and we possessed the same thought. Freedom. That was when we booked it. Goodbye, Hell-hole.
Yeah! I updated! Now I gotta go, before everyone slowly kills me for being, slow. Review! Come on! Just push the little green button!
~Faxisthegreatest123~
