A/N: Hey people, here's the next chapter…and here's a little summary of what has already happened, just to make sure people understand it (remember, this is supposed to seem weird).

Prologue and Chapter 1 Summary: Max is caught in a dream she doesn't understand, because her dream has taken her back to the Flock's old house. Once inside, she realizes that something is wrong. All the pictures are gone, all proof that the Flock was once there, has vanished. She finds a message addressed to her: Please forgive me, my Maximum Ride. Upon reading the message, the dream world around her falls apart. Her surroundings crack, shatter, and reveal another scene. This time, this scene is a memory, a playback of the day she first found out that Jeb was gone. Then her surroundings start flashing, showing her bits and pieces of things that happened in the past. The flashing memories move so quickly that they soon become a white blur that is then overtaken by blackness. Max finds a door in this blackness, and through it she can see all her deepest fears. Despite her fear, she runs through when she hears the sound of Angel's screams, coming from behind that terrifying door.

Ok, so I lied, that was a long summary, but that's the gist of what happened. Anyway, here's the next chapter, and I warn you, the first section of the chapter is probably going to be confusing. It's actually designed to raise more questions (and up the suspense). So please please please bear with me. All questions will be answered soon. For now, just read carefully and understand that something very weird is happening outside of Max's dream…

Disclaimer: I do not own Maximum Ride…but I DO own everything that she does in this story. So HA.

XXXXXXXXX Chapter 2 Part 1: Invisible

Fang jolted awake. Well, jolted was a gross exaggeration. Jolting was something Max, wired as always, might have done. But Fang? Nope, not a chance. Calmly, he lay with his eyes closed for a few seconds, and then, after opening them, he turned over to see what it was that had woken him.

Wait, what? The hell? Okay, screw calm and collected…

Struggling up with as much speed as possible, Fang stumbled over to where Max lay, twitching and moaning on the ground. He watched in horror as her eyes rolled back, and curling up into a ball, she rocked back and forth. Abruptly, the twitching stopped and her whole body stiffened. Troubled brown eyes flew open. Glazed and unseeing, they stared straight ahead, and reaching forward, Max moved her hand in a twisting motion…almost as if she was turning something, or opening a door…

With a strangled gasp, Max stopped breathing.

"Hell, we've got a problem!" shouted Fang. And promptly clapped a hand over his mouth. Because instead of his own smooth and controlled voice, a rough, grating growl, edged with a hint of a feral snarl, had scraped its way out from between his lips. An Eraser's voice. He glanced nervously down at Max. But no, she hadn't heard anything. She still wasn't freaking breathing.

A tinny voice rang out faintly. "Damnit, turn on the voice modulator, you idiot!" A slight pause. "No you stupid piece of crap, turn it to the FANG setting!" The voice was coming from Fang. Not from his mouth, but it was clear that the tinny, mechanical voice was coming from somewhere within Fang, like background noise.

"Watch it, Fang." The Gasman snapped, sending a hard glance in Fang's direction.

Fang's voice was back to normal. "Well, what the hell would you have done? I mean, this isn't even our real job, we're just substitutes for god's sake. What do we do?! She isn't breathing. We can't let the subject die, or whatever it is that it's doing. As much as I'd love to finish off that freak, we can't. Batchelder would kill us."

XXXXXXXXX

Max stood with her forehead leaning against the chillingly cold door she had just slammed shut, Angel's screams echoing in her ears. As soon as she'd registered what was on the other side of the door, she'd immediately turned around and closed her eyes, sweat starting to bead on her forehead. Gripping the metal doorknob tightly with one hand, she struggled to breathe evenly. Heck, she was struggling to breathe, period. The overpowering scent of antiseptics and the sterile, dead smell of the white walls that enclosed her, were creeping their way into her head, unlocking memories she had buried long ago. Her breath shuddered, and she shivered compulsively as the ice cold and artificial air conditioning washed over her clammy skin – only one coherent thought was running through her mind…

XXXXXXXXX

I can't do it.

I can't do it, I can't turn around and face this nightmare, not even to save Angel. Why is it that, even in my dreams, I have to be haunted by this living hell? God I hate this place, I hate the School, it's the only thing I've ever had to run from. And I'm Maximum Ride, I don't run from anyth–

I broke off from my mental breakdown, as I felt an odd tingling feeling spreading across my lower arm, and a stabbing pain concentrated near my left wrist. Looking down, I stared, as the scar on my forearm shimmered, and then started to fade away. The trophy of the one time I'd totally lost it, that day at the beach, was disappearing. Like nothing had ever happened.

"What the hell are you doing?"

"Are you crazy?"

"Want the chip out."

"You're going to bleed to death, you idiot!"

"Max, what were you doing?"

"I wanted to get the chip out."

"Well, forget it! The chip stays in. You don't get off that easy. You die when we die!"

"I'm sorry."

"Don't do it again."

"I won't."

Blood on the ground, on the sand, pooling around a 14-year old girl.

…crazy?...

Her bloodshot eyes drip with pain and desperation.

…chip out…

He knocks the shell out of her shaking hand. His eyes stand out, dark and burning, against a white, white face.

…You idiot…

Panicked…Desperate.……Broken.

…Max…

Four kids plus one dog run up and watch her. Horrified.

…chip stays in…

His angry, jerky movements hide his fear. He hides everything.

…heart attack…

They love her.

…that easy…

She hates herself.

…I'm sorry…

God, I'm sorry Fang. It feels like its been weeks, months, years even, since that day, with the shell, and the chip, and me, flipping out. What was it, last week? I don't know what was wrong with me. What's the heck is wrong with me now?

I looked down and rubbed at the spot where the pale, jagged scar had once been. Once. It was gone now. What is freaking wrong with this crazy dream? Isn't it enough that my normal life already completely sucks? If you could call it normal, or even believable. Somehow, I doubt that blood-thirsty wolf mutants, sicko scientists that want to take me apart, and an annoying voice in my head, really count as being 'normal.' But what would I know?

I mean, I'm such an expert on leading a normal life. Right.

A harsh voice snarled out from behind me: "What the hell is this?"

I flipped around, and nearly socked an Eraser in the eye with the fist I instinctively shot out in front of me. Not, that that would have been a problem. Baring my teeth menacingly, I launched myself at that furry, godforsaken excuse of a puttycat. 'Cause you know what? To heck with my phobia of The School. Angel needs me. There you have it. Maximum Ride, saving the world, one bird kid at a time.

Readying myself for one of my infamous roundhouse kicks, I took aim…and stopped. My foot thudded back down to the ground as what I was seeing finally caught up to my brain. The Eraser wasn't looking at me. It didn't even notice me, even though it was standing right next to me. I stared, in total astonishment, as I realized that the Eraser had actually been talking to the whitecoat in front of him. And apparently, both were totally unaware that there was one confused and loopy freak watching them in the white hallway.

Wait, did I just say that? Ok, so I lied, there wasn't just one freak in the hallway, there were three. I'm pretty sure that whitecoats and Erasers count as freaks too.

The Eraser and whitecoat were poring over a clipboard together…since when were Erasers intelligent enough to read? Must be some new breakthrough, like, Eraser 5.0. But I mean, smart Erasers? Don't make me laugh. The Eraser was pointing excitedly at something on the clipboard with one clawed finger that was flecked with bits of a dark, sullen brown; blood. Gross. Something about the data sheets and statistics on the clipboard had obviously caught his attention, so I decided that that was the reason for his outburst of, "What the hell is that?" This had nothing to do with me. I could get used to this.

Then I remembered. Angel! I couldn't hear her screaming anymore, but I knew I had to find her, and make sure that she was all right, even if this was only a dream. Setting my teeth and trying to ignore the white walls around me, I started running in a direction that actually, come to think of it, looked rather familiar. But not before punching first the Eraser, and then the whitecoat, in the head. Hey, I couldn't help myself. As I had suspected, my fists passed right through them, as if I was made of air or something. But as I turned to start running down the hallway, I did notice, with some satisfaction, that both men (well fine, one of them wasn't a man) were shivering and looking slightly unnerved, eyes darting suspiciously around the empty hall.

I was running. Hurtling through the hallways. Some force was leading me irrevocably forwards. Left down a hallway. Another left. Right. Left. Right. Right. Straight. God these hallways all look the same. Left. Right.

Suddenly, I started slowing. Gasping for breath, I realized that my sides were heaving, as if I'd just run a marathon. What? I hadn't run that much, why was I already getting so tired? Panting, I stopped in front of a white – big surprise – door, and bent over, leaning my hands on my knees. Can't. Breathe. Too. Tired.

I glanced up at the door I had stopped next to, and looked down again, still huffing and trying to catch my breath. Wait… My head shot up, eyes widening with shock. What. The. He-eck.

Room MFI1471

My eyes ran quickly over the sign on the door. My mind registered the door's long, rectangular window that was covered up with black paint, probably to keep people from looking in. Or maybe to keep any light from reaching the dark little room on the other side. Stepping forward, I reached out my hand, and traced, with one, trembling finger, the outline of the small picture of wings that had been clumsily etched into the black paint from the inside.

Room MFI1471

God, why this room.

This is definitely one strange and twisted dream.

This room…is where I first met Fang and Iggy.

Years and years ago.

Something told me that Angel was inside. Clenching my teeth and desperately trying to control the adrenaline that was rushing through my already too-hyped up body, I moved over and prepared to walk through the door. But I hesitated.

BAM

Jerking back, I stared as the door shook in front of me. Clearly, someone inside wanted to get out, and they wanted to get out badly. I waited for my heart to restart, and then, before my mind could catch up with me and tell me to stop, I rushed through the door, without opening it, just as if I was made of air. Made of air, and invisible. I mean, heck, what could happen? This is a dream. Nothing's going to hurt me.

I was wrong.

XXXXXXXXX

A/N: Well, there you have it. Part 1 of Chapter 2. Don't worry, I'll be posting part 2 very soon (this chapter was getting long so I'm splitting it in two). I know that this whole thing was probably very confusing, but be patient, and you'll get your answers pretty soon. Something very strange is definitely happening though, both inside and outside of the dream. I'm trying to make this as original and suspenseful as possible. Once again, if you have questions or constructive criticism, or if Max is being totally OOC, please REVIEW! I love reviews, even anonymous ones. They tell me if my fanfic completely sucks, or if I should keep going. Thanks 8D

P.S. Can anyone guess how I came up with the room number? MFI1471

I should probably add that, even though in the previous chapter, Max could see her fears through that transparent door, that was an illusion. It was THE SCHOOL behind the door, not those fluctuating fears. The fears were just part of the whole ordeal Max has been going through in this dream.

And Myrah: who says Maxie's gonna wake up? Maybe she will, maybe she won't…dun dun duuuun