“Good morning, students,” said the gravelly voice of the principal, Mr. Galorosa. “I trust you will have a good and well-behaved day today?” No one answered him. Of course, he expected none to, as he wouldn’t be able to hear their voices.

“Heh-hem, the lunch for today will be pizza, green beans, and a fruit cup, Mr. Smith’s band class will be moved to the extra room, and there will be a blood drawing test at 2:45 today. Thank you and have a nice day.” A murmur arose from the class. A blood test? Will it hurt? Who’s going to give it to us? Those were a few of the many questions Angelica heard floating around the room.

Zaniyah, another one of Angelica’s friends, leaned across the aisle to whisper “OMG, what do you think they’re going to do to us?” in Angelica’s ear.

Angelica shrugged and tried to look nonchalant, but inside she was worried. Ever since she had tried to fit through a broken fence when she was about three, all items sharp and pointed held a special clutch of terror for her.

After the announcement, the day flew by annoyingly quickly. Before Angelica could register it, 2:45 arrived. The teacher led the students down to the nurse’s office in a line. Most of the kids were nervous, and the scraping of shuffling feet echoed over the otherwise silent hallway.

At 2:47 precisely the first student was called. “Penelope Abalanter?” The terrified-looking girl stumbled out of her seat and slowly crept up to the office. A few terse minutes passed, then Penelope exited the office looking immensely relieved. Her friends flocked to her and together to giggled and chattered under their breath. The number of people sitting next to her dwindled until it was only Angelica and a few other children remained. “Angelica VanDelissa?” said the soft and singsong voice of the receptionist. Angelica swallowed hard and entered the office.

A dim glow lit the room as she pushed through the door. The nurse’s desk had been hastily pushed to the side of the office, and in the center sat three things: a metal bed covered with a white sheet of paper, the paper lightly speckled with a few drops of dark red blood, a machine roughly the size of a television and an empty syringe lying  on the sheet. Angelica flinched backwards at the sight of it. A man in white beckoned her forwards. “Please lie down on the sheet.” His tone of voice commanded you, not really calling for a ‘please’. Angelica obeyed and settled herself on the paper.

The man drew the needle out of its sheath. Angelica shuddered and instinctively twitched away. The man simply stood there and waited. After a moment she rolled back and stuck out her arm, eyes squeezed shut. There was a sharp pain and a quiet sshhhiicck sound, then the needle pulled out of her arm. Angelica cracked open an eyelid, saw a long needle half full of dark crimson liquid and slammed it back shut. But as she heard a series of clicks, she slowly opened both eyes.

The white-clad man squeezed—her blood—out onto a clear plastic square. He placed that in the machine and pressed a button. There were a few seconds of quiet whirrs and clicks, then a sudden and loud alarm blasted out of the machine. From what she could see, a string of data was racing down the screen. The man’s eyes lit up and he beckoned the other man who had been watching unnoticed in the corner.

“She is the last one we need! The last of the four!” he whispered, excited.

THIS. IS. SO. GOOD!!!!!! Post some more soon!!!

At first I thought it would be a nice but kind of regular story about a girl and her father. Then I thought it would be a nice but kind of regular story about a girl at school. 

But now I'm not so sure....

THIS IS SO GOOD KEEP POSTING I COULD READ THIS ALL DAY!!!! 

Wow! This is awesome! For the most recent post of yours, and new that the blood test would be some kind of plot twist. I was right!

*Virtually hugs* Good for you, CL! I just read the first parts that you posted! It's AWESOME! Again, congrats! *Cries happily with Clouded Leapard* Yayyyy!

Oh-wait-Hazel says huhd. Hug...or huh? I'll just assume it's hug, because there isn't anything to be confused about. 

“I know,” said the man who had drawn Angelica’s blood, whom she nicknamed Cold because he was so icily calm. The other man she called Scientist because he spoke in such strange terms.

“Do you think she will have the proper qualifications to meet our standards?” asked Scientist.

“There’s only one way to find out,” said Cold, and glanced at her, his silver eyes hard with determination. “Introduce it to her.”

“That is true!” exclaimed Scientist. “Perhaps if we put her in the testing chamber, we could introduce a septicemia and that would provide us with the needed results!”

“So it’s agreed, then? The time?” said Cold, throwing an intrigued look over his shoulder at Angelica, who shifted uncomfortably. She had absolutely no idea what they were talking about, and she thought it best to keep quiet. It was like the men didn’t even realize she was there besides an interesting specimen.

A few minutes later, after the two men had discussed several other strange topics which Angelia knew nothing of, they let her go with several strange looks.

She walked out into the hallway, distracted. Her backpack felt like a heavy weight on her shoulder, filled with options of what to do. Should she sneak back and try to get some more information? Should she run? Should she... try to find the other three people that Cold and Scientist had mentioned?

These thoughts were running through her head when she crashed into a thick shape. Immediately the weight sprang back and she stumbled forward. Pushing her cocoa-brown hair out of her eyes, she saw David Michael’s skinny and short form. He was lying on the floor looking up at her.

“Sorry,” she said. “Here.” She held out her hand. He accepted rather nervously and stood up.

“Sorry. I just got heard some weird stuff at the blood test today—what?” These words were said at precisely the same time, and ended with each person looking at each other in surprise.

Angelica’s shocked face mirrored her shocked thoughts. That sounds too familiar to be coincidental… could it really be?

Chapter 2

David Michael

The second he heard the phrase “Weird results at the blood test,” frantic thoughts began running through David Michael’s head. “You...” he started, but awkwardly trailed off. He’d never exactly been brave, even in elementary school. Everything was different now. Angelica was a popular and bullies were plentiful, carefree and dangerous. It was dangerous now. Shy, reclusive, and skinny as he was he had to be careful, and he wasn’t sure if he should tell Angelica. He closed his eyes, pursed his lips, but unwillingly the words slipped out.

“You received strange results on your blood test, too?” He clamped his jaws shut, feeling mortified, but Angelica didn’t look annoyed or confused, only thoughtful.

“Y—yes,” she replied. “I did. They said I was… I was one of four. I assume you’re one of the others?” David Michael nodded.

“Really? I never noticed,” she replied, rolling her eyes with dripping sarcasm. Her eyes showed a certain reluctance, though. David Michael nodded. He knew that now that she had a bunch of new friends, their status wouldn’t allow her to make friends with him. But... this new Angelica seemed to accept it. The old Angelica wouldn’t have.  

“What do you think they’re going to do to us?” Angelica asked, tilting her head in her deep thought.

“What makes you think that they’re going to do anything to us?” asked David Michael. Angelica repeated Cold and Scientist’s conversation to David Michael. He nodded.

“I see what you’re—and they’re—saying. But at this point I think we’ll just have to wait until tomorrow to find out anything,” he said, smiling halfheartedly. Finally, some excitement and now he was telling her to wait? Was he trying to repel her?

Angelica smirked and said “Yeah, that’s fine by me. I have to get home anyways.” She waved to him and walked away, her cocoa-brown hair swinging back and forth. He stood there for a few minutes, seemingly frozen in place, and then set off down the deserted hallway, heading for home.

The back door of David Michael’s door swung open. He stepped in and placed his backpack carefully on the coat hook. “Hi, mom.” His mother turned to look at him, balancing a pan with sizzling stir-fry inside it on her left arm and holding a bowl full of broccoli in the other hand. A long wooden stirring spoon was clenched between her teeth.

“Hi, Dave,” she said, her voice slightly muffled. “I got another order at the last minute, so dinner will be a little late tonight.” David Michael sighed, but made no further complaint.

“That’s fine, mom, I’ll just grab myself a snack.” He slipped under her waving arms, plucked a nectarine from the table and bit into it, stomach growling. He ran up the stairs and escaped into his sanctuary—his room. The walls were covered with various profiles of painters and illustrators, paintbrushes were crammed (though very clean) into cans, plain white paper notebooks were set all over the floor. In the corner of the room lay what David Michael loved to do most. His art.

Most of the drawings were in pencil, then outlined in ink, but they were all fantastic. One he was in the process of working on was a beautiful pencil and colored pencil drawing of a fox stepping silently through the cool shadows of a faraway, mystical forest. David Michael mostly did animal sketches, as he was best at that, but would occasionally do one of a person.

He settled down in the pillows of his corner and began to sketch in the fox’s ears. He worked until the pencil layer was finished, and then began to carefully outline it in his favorite thin-tipped black pen. In about an hour, his mother’s voice floated up the stairs.

“David Mi-chael… dinner!” He smiled and set down his pen and pad, heaving himself up from the pillow nest and heading down the stairs. When he reached the dining room his mother bustled in with a plate of soft tortillas and a couple of sides like cheese, lettuce, ground beef, and a homemade salsa. “David, can you set the table?” he asked. David Michael nodded and set the table with plates, silverware and napkins. He was setting down the drinking glasses when his father burst in through the door.

“Hello, Eva. Hey, David Michael. Sorry I’m so late; I got caught up in some work that was thrown at me at the last minute,” he smiled. “Being a teacher ain’t easy.”

“Isn’t easy, dad,” corrected David Michael, hardly without realizing it. “Ain’t isn’t a good word to use.” His dad looked at him.

“Well, David, I’m sorry! It’s not like they teach extensive grammar for mathematicians! We all make mistakes, though,” he grinned in David Michael’s direction. David Michael managed a weak smile back and set to work creating his burrito. The family began with happy, light talk, but soon into the conversation David Michael’s mind began to wander.

I wonder what the men ‘Cold’ and ‘Scientist’ meant when they said about four people? Obviously I’m one, Angelica is another, but who are the other two? A chilling thought came to mind. What is they’re planning to do something to us? Why else would someone take blood tests if they didn’t want to find out something? Do Angelica, the other two people and I have something special in—in our blood that they need? When will they putting their plan into action? I think it may happen soon—

“David Michael!”

Jolted back into the present, David Michael snapped his head up and said “Huhn?” His parents looked at him rather disapprovingly. His mother sighed before she spoke.

“We were asking how your day was at school, David Michael.” An annoyed tone edged his father’s voice. “Please try to pay attention.” David Michael looked down at his feet and tried to think of something, anything, to say.

“Oh, it was, you know, it was fine,” he finished. His parents raised their eyebrows but probed no more. The rest of their dinner was eaten in awkward silence. As soon as they were done David Michael pushed his chair back from the table and excused himself.

Upstairs in his room he flopped down on his bed. I need something to distract me... he thought. Picking up his sketchbook and began to draw a new picture. His pencil raked the paper and slowly the picture began to take form.

It was of something he didn’t draw very often, a person. It took the form and shape of a human, but had the attributes of various animals, like the fox and the dog and the cat and a bird. It was beautiful in an ethereal, mysterious way. He had just finished drawing golden wings on its back when he felt sleep begin to pull at his eyes.  He sighed and set the drawing aside on his bedside table. His warm comforter and the intensity if the day’s events pulled him into sleep, so he didn’t even notice when his mother and father came in to say goodnight to him.

In fact, so deep was his sleep he didn’t awaken when he was he was lifted from his bed, crammed rather unceremoniously into a bag and carried out the window. The night air was cool, and so silent was the kidnapping no one noticed, save a dull copper tabby cat who lifted its head to stare at the humans with piercing yellow eyes, just to move on.

White.

Only white, nothing else.

The color filled David Michael’s thoughts and hurt his eyes. Then slowly the realization came to him that if it burned his eyes, then he must be awake. He closed his eyes once.

Black darkness, not white.

He was definitely awake. He cautiously raised a hand to his throbbing temple. Where was he? Did it have something to do with his blood test results? Was he alone? He looked up.

A hole in the top of the... whatever he was in was open. If only he could climb these walls, escape! He had no idea what he was doing here, but wherever it was, he wanted to leave. He put a hand experimentally on the wall, gripping the surface. He raised his foot, placed it on the wall, and pushed upwards.

His hand slipped off, he fell backwards and landed on the floor with a hard thump, though strangely not as hard as it should have been. It felt like something was softening his fall. Maybe the floor is made out of carpet. “Ow...” he murmured, palming his forehead. Clearly that won’t work. He tried several more things, including jumping, using his nails to try to claw his way up the slick wall and attempting to break the wall. All he got from the tries was a sore fist and a broken nail.

“Owww!” he moaned. “That was not a good idea.” His mind on other subjects, he reached up to scratch his shoulder blade and stopped dead when he felt it brush against something.

Something large.

Something feathery.

Something... winged.

Sheer panic clawed at his mind, and he spun around, trying to rid himself of them. He felt the wings again, and again. There was no mirror, but from what he could tell, they had feathers, from the feel of the tips, but they were wrapped in a black film. He pulled at the stuff, but it wouldn’t come off. The wings were also large. They were roughly the size of a surfboard each and hung limply from his back.

After he got over the initial shock of finding he had suddenly sprouted wings, he examined the rest of his body to see if it was all intact. Peering into the reflective surface of his prison, he noticed that his eyes had little gold flecks marring the green-blue, there was a streak of bright gold in his hair, and his nose felt a little pointier at the tip. A great sigh escape his mouth as he sat down. Great, David Michael, what a fix you’ve gotten yourself into! Mom and Dad are who knows where, you’re in a big white chamber and there are wings coming out of your back. Oh, and apparently you’re alone. Then a sudden thought occurred to him.

D’oh, idiot? Why don’t you try flying? He flapped his wings once experimentally, trying to figure which muscles to use. They lifted up... and dropped back down. He breathed a sigh of relief. A determined smile crept over his face.

The next hour was spent attempting to use the new wings to fly. When he finally did, worn out and hopeless, he didn’t even expect it. His thoughts were, Last try, David. He beat his wings—and rose up into the air. All the energy and vigor rushed back into his body. He flapped harder and rose higher, higher—out through the hole. His vision spread out in front of him, the painful white gone. A beeping, whirring world was at work around him. People—it was probably safe to assume they were scientists—skittered about in rustling white coats. Afraid they would see him, David Michael dropped back down into the white box. He wondered if Angelica was here. If for some reason this was about the blood test, wouldn’t she be? Did she have wrapped wings like he did? Did she even have wings? He decided there was only one way to find out.

He waited. Once about every hour he flew up again and peeked out. If the coast wasn’t clear, he flew back down. Gradually the number of scientists trickled down. In about the evening a plate of food was dropped down into the white chamber. It consisted of bread, water and a bit overcooked broccoli. Thanks, thought David Michael, shuddering as the cold vegetable slid down his throat. Oh well, at least they’re feeding me. About one hour after the small dinner, he rose wearily into the air, his black-wrapped wings beating slowly—and realized no one was left. He almost cried out in joy. Finally he could find out where the heck he was and what had happened to him!

O.O

That's all I can say.

O.O