Disclaimer: James Patterson owns both books (thus far) of the Maximum Ride series, which means I don't. I do, however, own Phoenix because he's my OC, so you can't take him, or else you WILL be sued! Got that? Good, good. Now on with the fic!
Notes: This fic was inspired by both novels of Maximum Ride, as well as the TV show, "Criss Angel: Mindfreak" (A&E owns it, not me, end of story), though it's a straight-out Maximum Ride fic.
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Phoenix: Death and Rebirth
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Prologue: Rebirth
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He loved the joy of freedom.
Having escaped the School many times before, he only took in small tastes of it. The Whitecoats always tracked him down somehow, overwhelmed him with mass numbers of the wolf-like Erasers, and dragged him back to that Godforsaken hellhole and its cruel, relentless experiments. He hated that place more than anything else in the world. He hated what they did there. They were toying with human lives, injecting them with various animal DNA before birth, and taking them away from their parents after they were born. They raised them like lab mice, with many of their results failing and dying at very young ages. This made him sick. Had they no sympathy for the hopeful futures of these children? Just what are these sick people hoping to achieve? And why was he so important? He was just a human-avian hybrid with large, red and orange wings sprouting from his back, but he also had abilities he couldn't even begin to fathom. And then there was the Voice; it spoke to him inside his head, talking about how perfect he was and other things he couldn't understand. It annoyed the hell out of him, and he just wanted it to go away.
Then, only a few weeks earlier, something unexpected happened; one of the Whitecoats at the School was actually a spy working for a group of scientists who opposed the School and its twisted experiments. When they were alone, she told him that the reason they could track him down so easily was that he had a tracer chip implanted in his right arm at a very young age. This came as a shock to him at first, but when she told him the source of the Voice, he couldn't take it anymore. After she had helped him escape from the School, he had resorted to drastic measures to ensure that he could stay free and not be bothered again. He was tired of the School tracking him down. He was tired of the corrupt experiments they do there. He was tired of the Erasers, he was tired of the Voice, and he was tired of having his freedom torn away from him.
He was tired of it all.
Now, he was soaring through the skies high above the Appalachian Mountains, his large, powerful wings carrying him along the winds. His long, nutmeg hair waved gracefully in the wind, his deep blue eyes looking this way and that. His katana, which he stole from one of the School's weapon display racks, dangled from his belt, never slipping out. His black, baggy jeans and red shirt, both of which looked like they hadn't been washed for weeks (and indeed, they weren't) rippled through the air freely, and his steel-toed boots did not impede his flying speed, which was a constant 100 mph.
He just loved flight. He loved the feeling of the wind sweeping through his hair. He loved the feeling of moving his wings up and down, keeping him aloft. Most of all, however, he loved the freedom associated with it. And now that he left the school for good, he loved the feeling of freedom more than ever, and probably will for the rest of his life. He felt…how would he describe it?...he felt…reborn.
Just like a phoenix.
And he, Phoenix, would never be captured again.
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Well, there's the prologue! Yeah, it's short, I know, but prologues are meant to be short and sweet. Chapter I may come depending on how well I fight writer's block.
May The Light Guide Your Path Of Writing!
Lightpaladin;)