BEFORE YOU GO ON, GO BACK TO THE PROLOGUE! I CHANGED IT AROUND THE END! GO NOW!

Alright, guys, here's the next chapter! Sorry again that it took a while. Dumb internet. :p

Comments:

boxtoplad999: Thanks! I'm glad it's peaking your interest, haha! :)

Here's the next chapter!

Angel sat on the bed, wrists bound with Velcro Straps, keeping her in place. She looked around the room, now able to see after a few days of healing since the explosion. She didn't know what day it was, nor what time, nor where she was at. All she knew was that she was here, on this bed, unable to move or go anywhere.

For Angel, it was like her own, personal torture chamber.

What made it worse was the fact that she was unable to use her powers, especially reading minds. They told her that this room blocked out all brainwaves that caused her mind to wander, thus keeping her conscience firmly locked in place. She hated it, hated the loss of control she once had over almost every person who walked through the door. Now, all she could do was sit and take their word for everything they said, no matter how unbelievable it seemed.

Angel sighed, fighting back a tear that threatened to fall. She missed Max. Missed the flock. She even missed Fang's Gang, no matter how weird or new they were. They had fought alongside the each other, risking death and more to take down the Doomsday Group. No matter how many times she tried to deny it, they were a family now, and she trusted them.

Too bad the attempt to take down the Doomsday Group proved futile, though.

Since her coming here, Angel had learned a few things (from what was said, unfortunately) that proved this cult wasn't through with their attempts to 'save the world' yet. Sure, the flock had taken down the head in France, but the group had recruted so many kids and mutants that the few hundred that they saved barely mattered. All the flock did was hack off one of the heads on the Hydra, and it wasn't long before it healed completely and grew two more ugly faces. Angel shuddered. It was no wonder that the Doomsday Group's leader -the One Light- didn't seem too concerned with the latest events. Angel was told that he was already regrouping, already expanding, but this time under a different name. They were no longer the Doomsday Group, but something else. With that latest twist, it wouldn't be long before he would gain the power back once again, saving the world by killing the humans within it.

Also, killing Max and the flock and Fang's Gang, if he had his way.

A single tear fell from her cheek, her frustration excelling over the fact that she couldn't wipe it off. Angel knew this. She knew all that was going on, and she couldn't do a thing to transfer the information to Max. She had tried to contact Max multiple times, but must have failed each time, since nothing seemed to be changing. Angel wondered if they thought she was dead, lying cold and stiff somewhere in Paris. They probably did, since Angel's shoe was blown off at the explosion, all torn and bloody from a gash on her inner thigh that had blood pouring down her leg. She could still remember the pain, the panic as she blacked out and woken up in this horrible place. The wires they had strapped onto her were no longer there. The only wire on her was an IV strapped just below her wrist, filling her with who knows what. She also had a cover over her finger that monitored her heartbeat. She was alone. Cold and alone. And it was all. Her. Fault.

Think about it, her conscience told her, you broke up Max and Fang. You almost got the flock killed. You helped kill Fang, even if he was resurrected. And then when you try to set things straight, you end up getting captured who knows where by this derranged killer called theOne Light. Face it, Angel. You're a disaster waiting to happen. You do nothing right but fail. You're a failure, Angel. There was a faint sardonic laugh. A little, horrible failure.

Shut up, she told herself, tears running down her cheeks. Just shut up.

Why? her conscience responded. You know it's true.

I said, shut up! Angel screamed in her head, hiccupping as the salty tears fell from her cheeks onto the pillow beneath. She hated this! Hated showing weakness, even if it was just to her own voice in her mind. She was not weak! She was a strong, couragious...

Seven year old.

Just like Max had taught her to be.

Angel relaxed in the bed, her sorrow and remorse filling her. Max was right. Max was pretty much always right. Why had she fought her? How could she honestly think that she could do a better job than the great Maximum Ride? Sure, Angel could try to help her, but in the end, she was still wrong. Still alone. Still a failure.

The psh of a door sliding open surprised Angel, and she once again wished desperately that she could rid herself of the evidence of tears from her face. A woman walked in, flocked by two other girls, each wearing black jumpsuits like you see in those spy movies. The lead woman stepped up to the foot of Angel's bed, stopping while the two other girls guarded the door as it slid shut behind them. Silence engulfed them, stretching for so long that Angel found she had time to study these three intruders rather closely.

The lead woman wore a blue business suit, a white T-Shirt showing from beneath the top. Her long, red hair came down to her shoulders, her brown eyes studying Angel closely. She didn't move, just stood there, watching Angel, hands behind her back. When it became apparent that she wouldn't speak, Angel's gaze lingered over to the girls guarding the door. The one on the right had tan skin, her brown eyes almond shaped. Her long, black hair was tied back in a French braid, the length barely passing her shoulders. Her hands were folded behind her back, her feet shoulder-width apart. It reminded Angel of the stance the flock was forced to stand in with the Navy. The girl looked no older than sixteen, but was no doubt an expert in combat that far excelled her age. Her eyes were steady as they stared ahead. Fierce.

The girl to her left stood in the similar stance, but that was the only comparison of the two. She had red hair, which was also held in a French braid, like her friend's. Her blue eyes stared straight ahead, watching some invisible foe. Her skin was peach colored, like Angel's, and she could be no older than ten. She might have been young, but her face was fierce, her stance stiff. Alert.

Angel felt bad for her.

Finally, the woman before her spoke, causing Angel to look back at her, giving her her full attention. "Hello, Angel," the woman began, her voice hard, yet soft, like Anne's was when she would scold them. "I see you were crying. Are you okay, sweety?" she asked in what sounded like forced sincerity.

Angel swallowed, not speaking.

"I see," she responded, glancing down at the blanket at the edge of the bed and grabbing the bed post with both hands. "Angel," she began, her voice softer. "You were told when you came here that you were special, correct?"

Angel blinked, silent.

"Well, honey," the woman continued, looking up at her. "The truth is, you are special. Very special. Even more special than the great Maximum Ride."

"I could never be greater than Max," Angel snarled, her voice weak.

"Oh, but you can, sweetheart," the woman said, releasing the bed post and crossing the length of the bed until she was at Angel's head. She reached out and pushed a strand of Angel's hair out of her eyes, placing it behind her ear. She wiped a stray tear from her face, stroking her cheeks lovingly. "You already are," she whispered, her voice hypnotic, like a summer breeze blowing from a tree, invading Angel's lungs and making her breathe easier.

Angel swallowed, lost in the woman's voice. Who was she? Was she an angel from heaven, sent to rescue her from this horrible place? That would be nice. Angel would love to be saved by a real, life angel. "Who are you?" she asked softly.

"Someone who can help you," she responded, her voice pulling Angel in. "Are you sick of being experimented on, honey? Do you want to leave this place for good?"

Angel nodded, extatic as she strained to get out of the Velcro straps.

"Not yet, my sweet," the motherly woman cooed, placing her hand over Angel's. "First, we must get some things settled, and then I'll come back and rescue you from this horrible place. I'll take you to some place warm and safe, where you can run and play and fly all day. You could be free, Angel," she said, smiling.

"Who else will be there?" Angel asked, caught up in this beautiful dream. "Will they be there, too?" she asked, motioning to the girls.

"Yes, Angel," the woman said. "Them, along with plenty other girls and boys around your age, dying to have some fun."

Angel felt nervous for a second, but then it just melted away with a glance into the woman's eyes before her. "Will Max and the flock be there, too?" she asked softly, her eyes drooping. "And Fang?"

"Yes, Angel," she heard the woman say as her eyes shut. "And you'll help us bring them to this wonderful place."

"How long... Must I wait?" Angel drowned out, barely being able to speak from the fog in her mind.

"Not long, precious," the motherly woman whispered, kissing her lightly on the head. "Not long at all."

Angel wanted to respond, to thank the woman for giving her some hope, but she was already nodding off, her mouth unable to move except for forming a small smile. She dimly heard the woman say goodnight, then tell the girls it was time to go, but Angel was already gone, the words precious and sweetheart guiding her into the world of dreams.

It was the calmest sleep she had ever slept.

That's all for now! Please tell me what you think! :)