Day 1

I was woken up by scratchy fabric being wrapped around my face by rough hands. Instantly, I tried to struggle, but multiple arms restrained me, a few grabbing my legs and more clutching my protesting wings. Out of exhaustion, I went limp as the blindfold was secured on my head and my limbs were tightly bound. My body was set down and strapped to a familiar table with paper thin sheets being me only comfort. They grabbed both wings, stretching them out in there (what felt like) 14 feet glory, strapping those, too. I relaxed a bit, enjoying the tiny warmth that whatever bright light that they had over me offered.

Until the pricks sunk into my skin.

I winced as multiple needles were stuck into my arms and legs, occasionally crying out with my hoarse, underused voice. I could smell all of the heavy chemicals that they were injecting into my body.

"Keep the specimen from moving!" one voice demanded cruelly.

"I am not your specimen!" I rasped. "My name is Maximum Ride! I'm human, too, you know!" The harsh voice chuckled.

"Not entirely, anymore." I could feel the blindfold wetting from my salty, angry tears.

What in the world did I do to deserve this? I began counting each injection. After 12 more, they trapped me back into my darkened hell. I wrapped my sore arms around my knees and cried, shrieking my agony. I could hear the faint chuckling of my torturers outside of the thick metal doors. I enveloped my body in my wings, forming a protective cocoon as I fell into sleep ... dark, dreamless sleep.

Day 2

I heard the voices getting closer to my prison. I shivered uncontrollably. They never tested me two days in a row, why start now? I listened closer, straining to hear. I recognized these voices time and time again, each sharp from the pure evil. If evil was a tone, they nailed it. But I heard something different this time. One voice, one that seemed distinct among the flurries of chatter sound velvety smooth, almost comforting to my agonized soul.

I shuffled over to the door, pressing my head against it, letting myself drift off to the sound of my only savior in this horrible, horrible prison.

Day 3

I cautiously opened my eyes, feeling around the shadows. My hand felt something squishy and wet. I smiled sadly. They had finally given me food, or whatever this muck could be classified as. I greedily shuffled it into my mouth with my bare hands, despite my stomach's protesting.

The food slowly diminished to my despair, as I rapidly searched for more. My hand hit something soft, but sold. I carefully picked it up a brought it up to my nose, sniffing it for any signs of drug sabotage. It smelled good. I inhaled deeply, then reluctantly took a nibble off of it. I was surprised to find out it was a slice of bread. I took my time eating it, savoring each bite. When it was gone, I began to think.

They never gave me bread. Much less anything that seemed slightly edible. What possibly could have changed?

Day 4

I shot up, feeling the ground desperately. Nope. No food. I longed for another slice of whatever kind of bread that was. I sighed, leaning back against the icy wall. I waited for the scratchy blindfold to be forced upon me again ... but it never came.

Day 5

I was beginning to get scared. They usually didn't wait this long to start the pricking again. I should've been dragged out of here on day three, that's usually the system. One day of testing, one day to heal. And I usually healed exceptionally fast, which was my advantage and my downfall. I huddled up in the corner, stroking my soft feathers, waiting ...

Day 6

"Here's how it's done!" A harsh voice cut through my sleep as the familiar fabric was knotted around my eyes. "You grab it's wings so it can't flap them. Now you try."

"Okay." My attention was given full-on when the soft spoken voice I had heard was now coming from what seemed like inches away. My limbs were bound and hands grasped my wings at their base. But it was different this time. Instead of brute force, this person's hands were gentler on me, now ripping out a single feather. Naturally, I struggled.

"Shhhh, calm down" the smooth voice cooed into my ear from behind, releasing one finger of his grip to stroke my soft down. I relaxed in a trance, his voice soothing me like a lullaby. I was carried over to the table and restrained, the smooth voice making quiet and nice shushing sounds to keep me calm. I braced myself for the needles. There was a light tap on my forearm, and the strong pinch of a needle greeted me in that same spot. I was confused at this action. Another tap hit my calf and another injection followed. Was whoever was testing me warning me of where I was getting a shot?

After almost two dozen taps and pricks, a whisper warmed my ear.

"This is the last one, I promise." said the silky voice. A tap placed itself on my thigh and a needle was inserted, the gentle hands unstrapping and hoisting me upwards, bridal-style. I felt myself being placed on the hard and cold floor of my cell, my restraints being removed, then the blindfold was beginning to me unwound. They usually shut the door before they did this, so I wouldn't see they light. Not that I'm complaining, but what is this new guy doing?

The blindfold fell, harsh and burning white seeping through the tiny crack of the slightly opened door. I gasped at the sight of it, and a warm hand clamped over my mouth, silencing me. A silhouette stood in front of me, tall and thin in the crisp white lab coat he wore.

"I need you to be quiet." the figure whispered with the smooth voice I had begun to love so much. Was this really the person who's speaking relaxed my nerves so much? I complied and the hand dropped. Blinking hard, my eyes began to blur in and out, adjusting. I studied the clearer figure.

This scientist looked young, his head with tousled, raven black hair. His skin looked olive-tone in the dim light and his eyes were never-ending voids that had a certain softness to them when they met mine. I looked at him with confusion, holding back my dire questions.

"I won't let you live like this much longer." he told me, running his fingers through the snarls in my dirty hair. "Just bare with me, please." I gave the most minuscule nod, his lips curling up into a crooked smile. He reluctantly turned away, slowly creaking the door shut. Just as it was almost sealed, he stuck his head back in.

"And I hope you liked the bread."

DRAMAAAAAAAA BOMB. Lol. I hope you like it so far. So many mysteries o.O Anyway, I really like how the plot is forming so far, so this might be a good one. Reviews please~! Stay insane, my friends.

-Completely Unstable