A/N: Hello again! Note to Wingz-and-a-Fez (who is btw the only reason I'm writing this chapter at all b/c she gave me EIGHT REVIEWS!): I would continue with Fang, but I need to give each of the flock a turn, but don't worry; I'm picking up right where I left off. Also, this takes place a year before they escaped with Jeb, so yes it'll be them growing up and, if people like it enough, a little at the mountain house with Jeb. Hope I helped!

To Annie (whose penname is too foreign for me to type out), no, I'm sorry, they're not from a parallel universe, though if I ever give any of them names, I'm gonna call one of them Rose Tyler, just for you. You're welcome.

To Seize the Rain, I'm so glad you think the story's really good. I apologize for confusing you with the numbers, but don't worry, in a couple chapters, they'll all have names. Thx for the comment on Iggy and Nudge. I figured Iggy would be more random and depressed if he hadn't been before he got blindified, and as for Nudge, why else would she talk so much? She's been keeping away her thoughts for six years!

To Da (whose penname is just too awesomesaucetastically long), I feel so loved that you thought I did Fang well. Now we just have to see about Iggy. This is the first time I have ever written him as not completely utterly weird. Hopefully I do well. Also, I'm updating as fast as I can, so please no lamps! Or…..Sharpies (shudder).

To everyone else who reviewed, thank you! And I'm glad you like the story so far!

Chapter Three

Subject Eight

The minute whitecoats burst in with bazookas, I knew something was seriously wrong. Sure, whitecoats burst in all the time- it was actually getting kinda old, to be honest- but guns were new.

I wished I had a gun sometimes. Anything to just get rid of those stupid whitecoats for good. A gun. Or a bomb. Or anything like that really. A bomb would be best though. I wonder how you make a bomb. It sounds fun.

Anyway, back on track. The whitecoats with bazookas obviously caused a ruckus between the other experiments and me. It was obvious that something serious was going on, but what that something was, we had no idea.

One of the whitecoats handed his gun to a partner and surveyed the six of us. Subject Six had just woken up and seemed mentally and physically scarred, as well as just as terrified as the rest of us.

The lead whitecoat looked one by one at each of us. His eyes scanned quickly by Ten and Eleven, looked disgustedly at Nine, lingered on Six for a minute, making my heart stop, but then moved on to Seven and me.

The whitecoat looked back and forth between the two of us, seeming to size us up. I could practically see his thoughts through his eyes: The dark one's stronger, but the light one has better vision on his own already.

I didn't know how I knew that, but it just fit his look. I am quite observant that way.

The whitecoat's eyes lingered on Seven again.

"Tyler," he commanded. "Give me it."

A female whitecoat handed her partner a strange object that I couldn't see. He held up a needle connected to the machine and started towards Seven's cage.

Muttering soothing words that I swear did absolutely nothing to quench Seven's suspicion and anger, the whitecoat carefully unlatched Seven's crate, but when he reached out to inject the needle in my friend's arm, Seven jumped out and bit the whitecoat right on the hand, making him scream and the rest of us gasp.

I exchanged glances with Six. I knew we could both tell why the whitecoat seemed to be in so much pain. The teeth Seven had bitten him with were practically fangs. Not fun.

Grumbling and cursing under his breath, the injured whitecoat gestured for his partner to come over.

"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry," she muttered as she injected a needle into Seven's arm, rendering him unconscious and then lifting him back into the crate. (A/N: finally, that sentence ended. It was a long sentence. Anyway, did any DW fans notice the Doctor Ten catchphrase there? Anyone? At all? Especially cause that whitecoat was sorta-kinda-not-really-but-still supposed to be Rose? See? Get it? Anyway,)

The bitten whitecoat then advanced towards me, glaring at me with a look that clearly stated, "You try to fight back and you're dead in an instant."

Taking a deep breath, I allowed the man to open my crate and jab the needle into my arm. Everything turned black and, although I could tell I was still conscious, I felt nothing, saw nothing.

Until that one moment. When every happy feeling I had ever felt was drained out of me (A/N: no, it's not dementors) and the pain replaced it.

Oh, the pain. So much pain. Terrible was the pain. So, so terrible.

The pain began in my forearm, quickly spreading up to my head; then bursting out in my eyes. I screamed, unable to bear the pain any longer. I heard far-away voices yelling and cursing and then suddenly, all feeling disappeared and I blacked out once more.

When I awoke, I wasn't even sure if I was awake. Everything was dark and I couldn't even see my hands in front of my face when I held them up.

But I heard voices.

"How could you?" a very angry voice shouted. "You always mess up everything! He would've been perfect! A completely new life-form! And you killed him!"

I wanted to say, "I'm not dead," but I had a feeling being dead might actually be a better option.

"I'm sorry!" I heard another voice yell. "We were trying to enhance his night vision, but…but something went wrong, I don't know! We didn't mean to kill him!"

I heard the first voice speak again. "Five, Miss Tyler. There are only five. The Director said six. She said we needed six. We can't have Subjects Six, Seven, Nine, Ten, and Eleven with no eight. And because of your stupid idea-"

"It was your idea!" the second voice shouted. "I said he was fine on his own. They don't need night vision. You're just an idiot who can't accept that everything doesn't always have to be 'better'!"

For a whitecoat, I think I liked this chick.

A/N: AGAIN! I apologize for the abrupt ending. I was too lazy to write any more. Plus I'm bad at Iggy. Next chapter will explain how he's not dead (I mean, obviously, of course) and Nudge will tell the story. You will see why writing for Nudge is harder than you'd think. Sigh. Remember, folks, she hasn't talked in six years. She shall have very very rambling, Nudge-like thoughts. Hopefully it'll be hilarious though. Anyway, I'll try to update soon, thanks to all the people who already love me, and pretty please review!