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Chapter 8: Onyx's POV
Stay, my mind orders me. It seems as though that was the winning half. Sighing regretfully, I allow myself to drop down, fast, and zoom to the main location of the fight. I take a number of quick breaths, and shoot upward again, launching myself into the body of the battle. As soon as I reach their vicinity, twenty Eraser robots snap to attention, wheeling around and pinpointing their target: me. Everything switches to battle mode as I tighten my muscles, ready to do some serious damage to their stupid, robotic beings. Fury ignites in me, fury at everything they've done to me—given me these cursed wings, experimented on me, forced me to become mute, destroyed everything I ever cared about.
Immediately, five robots charge me, electronic laser eyes glowing and red, their skin sickly furry and rough, robotic gears and switches clearly visible through the thin coating. I act quickly and think faster, jamming my elbow into one robot's neck and shoving him beneath me, forcing its noisy, metal wings to fold in on themselves. The lights in its eyes go out, the robot plummets far down. The Eraser bots seem shockingly calm about the 'death' of their comrade. In fact, they appear to have no regrets.
A split second later, the real fighting begins. I twirl through the sky, effectively taking down every robot that comes anywhere near me. My eyes constantly dart back and forth, quickly and efficiently analyzing the situation and what to do. It seemed like the robots' strategy was to send out a few sacrificial comrades, let me destroy them, and bring forth a new batch, tiring me out more each time. Simple and crude, but very, very, effective. Where are they all coming from?! I shout in my head. The Eraser bots seemed to be in constant stock, never running out.
I wheel around to smash another, but freeze for a split second, seeing six faces turned in my direction, eyes wide and alert, watching my every move while somehow still warily holding the robots off. Great, I think. Now, they know I'm here. Why did I have to help?! Why did I decide to save them?! They don't have anything to do with me! Being discovered was not part of the plan. They would probably wind up getting captured anyway, and why should I care? But that pesky sense of justice came up again, willing (or maybe forcing is a better word) me to help the bird kids.
Whitt. The strange, hollow, whistling sound brings me back to the fight. I see a streak of silver whiz by, and curse myself mentally. Do NOT lose concentration! I scream to myself. I could have been dead! I snap my head back in the direction of the main fight, away from the staring eyes of the bird children. With ten robots fighting me, I was constantly turning, desperately attempting to win. Because losing, I was sure, meant going back to the School. A place where death was the most likely escape. The mention of the School brings back more toxic memories, and I shut them down before it's too late. Having a relapse is the opposite of what I need.
"Option B!" a voice calls from far below. I swivel my head towards the direction. It's a human. Well, I think. Knowing the School, it was probably half caiman. Or something. What's 'option B'? I wonder. I find out when the bots transform their chunky arms into smooth, metallic guns. I curse in my head again, and get ready to fly for my life.
Taking what was meant to be a final glance at the bird kids, I see them preparing to surrender. I feel my face twist with guilt. No. This isn't right. I shouldn't fly free while they're taken. I turned one wing around again, winced, and allowed myself to plummet downward to the van that they would evidently be taken in.
AUTHOR'S NOTE: Sorry again about stupid ending! But, I can't end chapters, as you already know. Review this chapter please! I need tips on how to end a chapter and such!