As The Result Of a Bet

13 - Clipped Wings Still Fly Again

A/N:
Prepare your feels, bitches! This one's sad.
REAL sad. Also, Mark needs a hug.

Jack's PoV:

"Mark, don't-"
"AAAAAAAHHHHH!!!!!"
Before I could stop him, he throws the chair he was sitting in across the room, then just stands there panting for a second.
"Told you not to play 'Getting Over It'."
We both look over to Tom, standing there in the doorway, with an amused expression.
"Yeah, I guess I should stop now." Mark admits, sitting down next to me on the couch.
The living room is big, but not so much that it is uncomfortable. The walls are painted a comfortable mint green, matching the carpet, which sits on top of a mahogany wood floor.
"Since Felix got caught up in.... what did he call it again?" Mark says, ending with a confused expression.
Tom rolls his eyes, "Jury duty."
"Yeah, that, we've had literally nothing to do. I'm boraaaahhh ball!" He cries, chasing after the spherical object, tail flailing wildly. (Heh. Flailing. Love that word)
Arm still outstretched from throwing the ball, I roll my eyes and say,
"Mark, you are a dog. You have everything to do."

Ring ring ring ring,

Ring ring RiNg RiNg,

REAAIIIII- (Bedtime Stories reference)

"Yes, hey Felix. Yeah, we're still at home, why? Uhh, okay-"
Tom pulls the phone away from his ear and covers the speaker, "Mark, whaddya think of birds?"
"Ummm, they're not bad?" Mark says, still chewing on the ball.
Tom puts the phone back up to his ear, "no, he doesn't care. WHAT!?!?!?!"
The entire room jumps from this sudden outburst.
"Felix, I swear to god, this heart of gold you have is going to get you in serious trouble one day. You're lucky this mansion came with so many rooms that we literally don't use, or we'd run out of space REAL quick. No, no, I'll get a room ready, promise."
He ended the call and immediately turns to me.
"Get ready, 'cause we've got some work to do." Tom said, earning a questioning look from me, and a nod.
"Mark, you feeling up to some heavy lifting?" Thomas asks, looking over to Mark, who nods as well.
"Well alright, get your asses upstairs, then. We have shit to do."

Narrator's PoV:

Footsteps echo along a dark corridor, the smells off stale bread mixing with strange chemical odors. Suddenly, a small boy bursts through the door, dragging with him a slightly taller boy, slumped over the younger's shoulder. The heavy iron doors lurk ahead of them, casting long shadows down the already shady corridor. The boy hurries towards the door with avid determination, and turns the hatch three to the left, once to the right, and three to the left once more. This opens up the code slot, where he proceeds to input the stolen code that he had seen peeking over the shoulder of their former caretaker, who lay dying in a pool of his own blood on the floor of the room they used to call home. The door opens, and sunlight streams through the newly opened doorway, bringing just a little bit of hope to the smaller as he leads his delirious friend to the safety of the outside world, where they will be safe at last. Suddenly, there is a shout of anger, and an alarm goes off. The boy looks back from his position halfway through the doorway, the horrified look on his face turning to despair at the sight of men chasing them. The last of his hope draining away, he almost gives up right at that moment. Then, a new determination fills him, and he pushes through the doorway, out into the open. The walking is painful, each step agony. Yet, the distance was nothing, for they would be free.
And halfway down the gravel driveway, the boy starts muttering to his friend, little encouragements that keeps him going, going, going...

A New Character's PoV:

"C'mon bro, we almost made it!"

One step, two steps....

BANG!

they're shooting at us!?!

"Boom...bang... he he he, fireworks....." he mutters deliriously into my shoulder.

I move just a little faster, but not fast enough. I try to raise them, anything at all, and they twitch, but nothing more.

Guess the drug is still in my system.

"Get the hell back here, kid! Whaddya think you're doin'!?!"

Thoughts of impending doom crowd in on my mind, but I push them back. There's no time, just keep going, just keep moving, just keep escaping.

Six steps, seven.....

BANG!

The sound goes out, but all I can hear is the slow bump, bump as my heart fights to keep going, going, going....

"Shit, the kid made it off the property! Kill him already!"

BANG! BANG! BANG!

I avoided them all?

Hope floods my heart, my brain, my whole body as I slowly make it towards the white picket fence where a face in a window looks to me. Eyes widen in surprise and my mind breaks through all the thoughts of dying....we're free. We're free! WE'RE FRE-

BANG!!!!!!

PAIN. Unrelenting pain crowds in on my consciousness, threatening to overwhelm me.

"Consider yerself lucky, kid! You're brother survived!"

The call fades into the distance. And just as my legs give out, I feel arms wrap around me. The darkness takes me, changes me, sends me to the surface of the ocean of ink I swim in to witness the sunset of my short life.
But so least my brother survived....

Felix' s PoV:

The kid's face is white as a sheet by the time his story is finished. As far as he can tell, so is everyone else's, including my own. Well... except for one. The CEO of the genetics company is red with anger, with the fury of being caught.
"Your honor, If I may speak, the kid lies. I would never do such a thing to a youngin' like him-"
"No, you may not speak, I will have none of it."
Judge Heather's eyes are wet with tears. She has never, ever, had to judge a case like this before. It makes her sick just to think about it.
"Does the defendant have anything to add to this?"
The defendant's lawyer looks to the CEO, then back at the judge.
"No, your honor. We don't."
"Good. Jury, you are dismissed to make the decision."

*time skip*

"Jake Tropin, CEO of Petlite Inc., you are hereby declared guilty, and sentenced to life in jail. Dismissed."
As he was led away by two fairly big policemen, for he was not a small man himself, he glared at the jury, the judge, and, finally, the boy as he went past. The boy's name was SARS-02, and his brother, who was 2 years older, was SARS-01. SARS stood for Sulfuric Acid Resistance Specimen. Felix shivers just thinking about it.
What purpose would that resistance even serve? What was the point?
Of course, I have still offered to adopt them, and they still accepted, well, he, so I'll have to name them.
The boys are odd. It may be the way they speak, with an accent borne of being around southern men all their lives. Maybe, adding to their southern accents, is just the fact that they are bone white from their heads to their toes, a skin tone borne from spending their entire lives in a dingy cell in a factory. Or maybe, just maybe, it is the fact that on top of their lilting southern accents, and their strange complection, they have beautiful wings that allow them to fly, when off of the drugs that kept them from even that which they were made specifically to do. Odder still, they had never flown before, for there had never been a time they hadn't been on the drug.
Still, Felix had chosen to take them in. But even as he drove back to the house, he still had no idea what to name them.

A/N:

Hey, guys.
So, I spent all that time writing shit, and it got over six thousand words, and I tried to post it. Then my computer crashed. Then when I started it up again, wattpad had deleted this entire chapter. So, I wrote as much as I remembered, and then thought better of it. I'm splitting this Bitch up into three or four parts. More exciting that way. Hope you like it anyway. Comment what you want the kid's names to be, I'll pick my favorites and use those. Also, look up sulfuric acid. Then you'll understand why it's so fucked up.
Love you all!

Turduckens UNITE!!!
-TheKingTurducken