| COMPLETED FANFICTION
The author has written this fanfiction from beginning to end. Enjoy!
A serial killer is loose in Colorado, and no one knows who she is. All we know is it is one of the flock.
Part One: A Killer in our MidstEdit
it is Sunday, 9:32pm. George has just gone to bed. There is a crashing sound coming from downstairs.
Suddenly, there is muffled screaming. Then a gunshot.
"AHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!" George woke up with a start.
"Mommy? Daddy?" he said. He was scared out of his little eight year old mind.
Slowly the door starts to creak open.
"CREAK" George slowly pulls down his covers. Relief sweeps over him. It was his Mommy's face.
Then almost immediately the relief turns to dread as he realizes that her head isn't attached to her body.
He is frozen with fright. The hand holding his Mommy's head appears. It looks to be the hand of a little girl. The little girl steps in the room holding a bloody knife. She lungs at him, stabbing him in the heart.
She then precedes to cut off his head. There stands the little girl holding his head like a trophy.
The next morning the police was baffled. "What the Sam-hell happened?" says the police chief.
"Well it appears on the surface to be a spree killing slash triple homicide, but there is something quite strange. The killer left a note."
The police chief takes the note and reads it out loud. "Street by street they all Fall, never growing tall. On the days of last shall come the first, and on the day of first shall come the last."
It appears to be complete gibberish but the police chief knows better. This is a clue as to the killer's identity.
I wake up in my bedroom in my E shaped house.
"How did you sleep sweety?" Max asked.
I yawned and said "I slept okay, but I had a nightmare."
Max looks at me "Well, you can tell me all about it after breakfast," she says.
I got dressed and went down stairs.
"Last night, a triple homicide was committed at this Colorado home. Strangely, all of the bodies were missing there heads. The police still are clueless as to who this killer is," says the TV reporter.
I am the only one in the flock surprised by this. Max sees the look of utter terror on my face.
"What's wrong sweety?" says Max.
"N-n-n-nothing a-a-a-at all" I lie. Little did max know the bodies on the news are the exact same people from my dream.
After that, I lose my appetite and now Max really is starting to know something is up. I am starting to fall apart. If I am somehow doing this for real then I really would rather die then continue hurting people. I am a victim of my own mind.
"Max, I think I might be hurting people" I say.
She looks a me kind of funny, "Hurting people, how?" says Max.
I give her a haunted look. "Last night I dreamed that I was in a trance like state. In my dream I killed people. Innocent people, no matter how hard I tried I couldn't not do it," I explained. "In my dream I broke in through the window. I stole the family's 22 caliber rifle and shot the father. I took the knife from the kitchen and stabbed the mother to death, then the son." I start sobbing, realizing the connection.
I continue despite that. "I cut off all their heads and hid them in them in a lake. I woke up with an uneasy feeling, then I see the exact people from my dream on the TV. Max, I think I might be a sleep killer. I don't want to be a killer. Max, I need you to tell me that I'm crazy, because if I'm not crazy then that means that I am a murderer." I shout in tears.
Max says "Wait, hold on, calm down. You don't know that your dream meant anything. How about this, when you go to sleep I will sit by your bed and if you try to leave I will wake you up, then I will take it from there. there is no f-ing way that you, my sweet little baby could be a killer." says Max.
I can tell she really cares, but I know the fact that if Max didn't take it seriously, this can put all of the flock in danger. If I end up killing anyone in the flock I will probably kill myself as soon as I figure out what I did.
That night I fight with myself about whether or not to kill myself. Then right as I am about to step in the noose, Max comes in and talks me out of it. I really didn't want to hurt my family. At the very least Max is taking seriously the fact that I am in danger.
That night I go to sleep and nothing happens. There is no nightmare. I wake up in the morning and Max says, "Sweety, you slept like a baby. You are completely innocent."
I look at her. "Max, we don't know for sure. If we go downstairs and there is another murder from the killer the Angel of Death, then we will know for sure." I say.
We head downstairs and there is no report of more murders. "Well, this doesn't mean it was you," says Max.
"Max, if I am the killer, please do the world a favor and turn me over to the cops," I say with tears in my eyes.
"There is no need for that, w-w-we will find a way to keep you from killing," Max says.
I shake my head. I know that if it is me, then there is no way Max can do anything to keep me and the rest of the world safe at the same time.
Well she doesn't realize that either way she will lose me. If she turns me in, the jury might go easy on me, but if she tries to keep me, then I know I won't go easy on myself. If I am the killer, I will either go to jail, a mental hospital, or kill myself.
I don't think I can live with myself if I am guilty and let myself go unstopped.
Andrea sits on her bed listening to her iPod. Her volume is turned up so high that she doesn't even hear the door open.
But she defiantly sees it. And the ragged blood stained girl who opens the door.
"Whhaaaatttt?" Andrea screams. She picks up a pillow and tries to hid behind it, only to be ended by a knife to the throat.
The killer moves on, walking to Andrea's brother's room. The seven year old boy is sleeping, oblivious to the terror that awaits him.
The boy Joshua hears the door creak open, and looks up. His sister's stunned face looks at him in the hand of a blond girl about his age. Joshua screams.
The killer lunges at Joshua and misses, stabbing the bed. Joshua's cry rings in the room as stuffing flies everywhere. The next stab penetrates Joshua's eye, and it is all over for this little boy.
She moves on to the parents' room, finding them watching a movie. They stare at the girl that intrudes on them.
"What have you done with your hair, Andrea?" the father shouts in confusion.
There is a gun hanging on the wall next to the door. The killer reaches for it, realizing there is ammunition in the gun.
"NO, please whoever-" the mother shouts just as the killer pulls the trigger. That is the end of her.
Another pull of the trigger ends the father, and the killer moves on only to find all the occupants dead.
In blood, the killer writes another awkward gibberish note.
In the night of the wet and the day of the heat they will fall not in ignorance but in apathy. Soon they will taste the taste of sour and see the sight of the moon.
What that exactly means, even the killer herself doesn't know.
This morning I wake up with blood on my hands, literally. When I see it, I scream bloody murder.
Max comes into the room. "What's wrong!?" asks Max.
I turn to look at her. "Look, I have blood on my hands. I hate to say this, but I am the killer."
Max immediately goes into denial. "Are you sure it is blood?" Max says.
I give her a look, the look of total lack of sarcasm. "Max, you now have to choices. One, turn me over to the cops, or two, I kill myself," I say.
Max turns white as a sheep. I eventually get turned over to the cops, but Max did not have much choice.
Little did anyone know that I was about to escape in my sleep for one last killing spree.
In the night of the wet and the day of the heat they will fall not in ignorance but in apathy. Soon they will taste the taste of sour and see the sight of the moon.
"What is God's glory could this even mean?" the police chief muttered to himself. Someone does confess to the murders, but she was a six year old girl, and it is hard for the police chief to believe she did it.
It rained last night, but today the sun is shining and it's over 90 degrees Fahrenheit even at six o'clock. The police chief hopes this will draw out the real serial killer, like the note says, but the rest doesn't make sense. There are too many variables, and the chief knows it.
It's almost like the killer was sleeping... the chief thinks for a second, then decides that's not possible. At that point, the chief didn't even care who it was. He just hopes it will stop.
Driving home, the moon rises slowly in the distance, earlier than it should. How did the killer know that? the chief asks to himself. Things are adding up too fast, but the day at the office is long finished and the police chief didn't care anymore.
On the driveway there was a young girl, almost looking like she was sleepwalking. She was holding a pen in her hand.
"What're you doing out here in this hour?" the chief demanded. It was already dark, despite the fact that it was midsummer. That's totally strange, he thought. She looks just like the girl they had arrested.
Angela, the wife the police chief, walks out the front door to be greeted by the sight of her husband being stabbed to death with a pen.
"What the hell is going on?" she shouts, holding onto the door frame. The girl stands up and looks at Angela with closed eyes, as if she's sleeping.
"AHHHH!!" Angela screams as she runs away. The sleepwalking girl stabs her pen into Angela's arm, but she narrowly escapes, crawling underneath the front porch of the neighbor.
While she sits waiting, she hears the screams of her poor children who she couldn't save because of her own fear.
"Lord have mercy on my soul," Angela prays. "Lord have mercy on my children's souls. Lord have mercy!"
It rains that night, drenching Angela in cold water. She is blue lipped, cold, and completely horrified.
She is still feverishly muttering this when the police come and find her in the morning.
Part Two: In the KnowEdit
I'm in hiding. I would never tell Max and endanger the flock. Now I have to live alone.
"Please help," I beg, seeing a man walk down my alley.
He sees me sitting here everyday, and finally he relents. "Take this, kid," he throws a wad of twenties at me. I scramble and grab it before any of the mob spies sees it .
Living on the streets is hard, but I'd never want to put my flock in danger. That would be insane.
Just as I think that a police car passes, I dive into a dumpster. I don't KNOW that they are hunting me but I REALLY don't want to die. I tried to kill myself, but I don't have it in me. Death is too scary.
Now I am stuck in the endless torture of having to live in both fear of myself and the cops. I am my own worst enemy and I am too scared to defeat it.
I peek out of the dumpster and the cop sees me, apparently they are after me because he shouts "STAY RIGHT THERE I HAVE SOME QEUSTIONS FOR YOU!!!!!"
He starts running toward me. I jump out of the dumpster and hit the ground running. I barrel through an ally way, knocking over a trash can. Going too fast, he trips over the trash can and hits the ground
"SORRY!!!" I shout back as I round another bend. I take off into the air.
"That was close. Way too close" I say. I land in a tree about twenty miles away and take out the twenties the guy gave me.
"Lets see, how much money did that nice man give me? 20, 40, 60, 80, $100!!!!" 100 damn dollars in twenties. I can do a lot with that.
In joy, I jump off the tree and immediately go to a McDonalds. I am too hungry to even think. Just as I finish the thought, my tummy growls, proving my suspicions. Time for some food!
I walk into McDonalds alone. The cashier eyes me suspiciously.
"May I take your order?" says the cashier. I'm already nervous. I wouldn't be in here right now if I weren't so damn hungry.
"Lets see, two, No! Six Mc-Doubles, four large fries, four apple pies, and a large soda," I say.
She eyes me suspiciously. "Coming up" she says. I look up, seeing my picture on the wall right behind her. It says WANTED. for the murders of countless individuals and there families. If you see her do not attempt to confront her, let the police know. REWARD: $750,000 for any information that leads to the capture and arrest of this killer.
I see this and turn white as a sheep. The woman notices, then looks behind her. "Look, if I was going to get you arrested then there would be officers here right now. I'm helping you because honestly I feel sorry for you. The cops call you the Angel of Death, but the rest of us call you the Sleeping Killer. I honestly think you are more a victim of your own mind than anything else," she says, then hands the order off to her co-worker.
"Anyhow, you feeding a small army there?" she says.
I actually chuckle, "No, I just haven't had a bite to eat in four days" I say.
"Well, I would be killing somebody too if I hadn't eaten in four days" she says. We both laugh.
"But, I gotta be real with ya for just a sec. After you leave I have to tell the cops you were here. Take my advice, take your food and don't come back for a while. If I wasn't afraid of losing my job, then I would just pretend I never saw you, but everyone knows your face."
She stops, looking around the store. "Some people are gonna be understanding like me, but not everyone, so leave, lie low, and try to figure out what is making you kill in your sleep. If you can figure that out and stop it, then maybe the cops will stop looking for you."
I tremble at the realization that I am still a fugitive. I'm terrified.
"I don't want to die" I say in almost a whisper, then grab my order and walk out.
After downing my huge feast, I walk over to a Harley dealership, and steal a motorcycle. As I ride down the highway, I contemplate my situation.
I have to get out of town, and quick. I turn my attention to a sign that says "MEXICAN BORDER 75 MILES." I decide that I better lie low, so I go towards Mexico.
At some point I have to ditch the bike, but I don't feel like flying right this second. I ride for another fifty miles before I decide to ditch the bike, but I don't just leave it on the road. I hide it in case I need it again.
"I guess I have to go" I say. I shrug out my wings, take one last look at the bike and take off. This cold wind tonight soothes my nerves just a bit, but not enough.
Later after flying for about two hours, I arrive on the outskirts of Mexico city. I suddenly realize that I don't speak Spanish.
"DAMN IT!!!!!" I shout in frustration. I find an old Ford truck and steal it.
I ride out into the desert, and I find someone who speaks English. He just happens to own a small, kind of sleazy motel.
"Hola!" I shout the only Spanish word I know.
He looks at me. "I speak English, ya know?" he says.
"Thank God!!!!!!" I sigh in relief. "Say, do you think I could rent a room?" I ask,
"Do you have cash?" he asks. I grin a little. apparently money is more important than asking questions.
That night I have some burritos for dinner, and in all honesty I probably don't want to know what is in them.
I sleep in a raggedy old, bed bug infested bed, but know what? It is a whole hell of a lot better than death.
I wake up the next morning, expecting to see blood on my hands, or to hear the motel owner knocking on the door, but I don't.
I don't know what it is but I think this motel is helping me to not kill people in my sleep.
"We lost her sir," Bill says as he walks into the room.
"I can only hope that she doesn't do any sleep killing," I tell them. "I'm a father of two beautiful twin girls. They're only two years old, and if they were hurt, I would never forgive myself."
"Sir, we have reports of a little girl matching Angel's description from an informant in Mexico," another officer enters the meeting. "A former drug cartel happened to be walking past a restaurant called El Burro when he saw her walking out with a sack of burritos. She is out of our jurisdiction. This is bad."
"Post extra security at the Mexican border, scramble jets. If this girl sneezes in the direction of the U.S, I want to know about it," I order. "It is not a question of when she comes back to the U.S. it is a question of when, and when she does I want her immediately put in custody."
"Only one thing. If at all possible, don't hurt her. If what I heard is true, then she is more of a victim than a perpetrator. I don't want her dead, I just want her off the street." I say.
My fellow officers start contacting the border authority.
This morning I have leftover burritos for breakfast. As I eat, I think about Max and the flock. I have to let them know where I am. I love my family too much to let them worry about me. I find a pay phone in the lobby.
RING.....RING......RING...CLICK "Hello?" Max answers the phone.
"Max, its me. I am calling you from Mexico. I just wanted to let you know where I am and tell you not to worry about me." I say,
Max says, "Huh? You're in Mexico? I am coming to get you-"
I panic "NO DONT!!! I'm fine, I just need some money. It's too risky to go back to the U.S. If you could just send a hundred bucks a month, I will be fine. I want you to know that if you come here with the flock, then you are putting the entire flock in danger. My time is about up. I want to let you know I love you."
I listen to Max's worried breathing, and I suddenly wish my life didn't go to crap all of a sudden. "Also, remember to send it as a money order to anywhere in Mexico city. Just let me know where it is sent, kay? Love ya," I say.
"I love you sweety. Now, I will send you money, but just promise me that if you get into trouble you will call, kay? I WILL come and get you if you get into trouble. I love you sweety. Bye." says Max.
I put down the pay phone and cry for the first time since all killing this started.
"The Angel of Death has struck again," the news reporter says. "In Colorado, there have been four people killed by household items. When the only surviving witness of the last attack was brought to the scene of the crime, she denied the connections between her incident and the most recent one, but the evidence is too strong to ignore. The 'girl in Mexico' is obviously not the serial killer."
As soon as I hear this, I almost fall out of my chair. I almost started bawling again, but realize that the bloody footsteps were too big to be mine. They look like adult size feet.
I know that means I'm not a fugitive anymore, but the police are wrong. I'm absolutely sure I'm the killer for those previous killings, but I'm also confident that the most recent one isn't me.
What if I'm not the only killer in the flock?
I rush back to the payphone, sticking as many coins as I have into the slot. I dial Max's phone number for the second time today.
"Angel? Is this you?" Max picks up the phone immediately.
"Yes. What's going on?" I say. "Was there another killing in Colorado?"
"Yes. Angel, I'm not in Colorado anymore. I know what you did is right, which is why I'm doing it too," Max says in a flurry. I barely understand what she means.
"Wait, what? Max, tell me what's going on!" I scream frantically into the phone.
On the other end, I hear police sirens going off. "I've got to go, sweety. Love you," she says, hanging up.
"No, wait Max! Wait," I scream into the receiver. It doesn't respond. Max is already gone.
What the hell is going on here?
"I CANT TAKE THIS ANYMORE!!!!!" I shout in frustration. death would be more humane than having to live on the run. I have to turn myself in. if the jury goes easy on me then they do, but if they don't, then at least I don't have to deal with the stress of being a fugitive anymore. I have gone completely insane, last night I was cutting my wrists just to take my mind off being a wanted person. I pack my bags and go out of the motel. "buh-bye Mexico, its been nice knowing you" I say with a wave, then jump into the air. (I am flying toward my doom) I think as I near twenty thousand feet, and the strange thing is that I don't care. as I fly towards the border I notice some U.S. military fighter jets flying low, towards me. I nose dive, trying to keep from dying. out of nowhere a giant net envelopes me. I fall two hundred feet to the ground. I cough up blood, then as I am coughing up blood some police officers come and greet me. "sorry about that, but we needed to make sure you didn't escape" he said, then handcuffed me. I start sobbing, "this is he end isn't it?" I say, then the officer turns around and says something surprising. "what are you talking about? we don't plan to hurt you, we just want you to stop killing people" says the officer. I let out a brief sigh of relief, they aren't going to kill me.
Part Three: A Killer in CustodyEdit
Later that day, I am sitting in a solitary confinement cell. Though it can be worse, Max sends me a home cooked meal. Iggy cooked it, of course.
As I eat, the police explain exactly what is going to happen. They tell me I'm going to be put under surveillance.
I'm led to a cell with one glass wall and three other thick concrete walls. I can't hear a single thought outside this stupid room.
"Um, excuse me, but when can I go home?" I ask, already knowing the answer.
A voice comes over the intercom. It's probably the police chief. "As soon as we can be sure that no one will be hurt by you again. Don't be scared, okay? This is a better solution than the alternative," it announces.
I have no idea what they mean by that. "How?" I ask.
"Even though you can't legally get the death penalty, we could've tried you for life in prison, but we realized that you were more a victim than a sadist, so naturally we felt pity for you," the intercom answered.
That sounds like a load of bullshit. At least that means they aren't going to kill me.
"Okay, do what you please, but don't hurt me," I say. The intercom doesn't answer.
I let out a heavy sigh. This is the end of a really long day, so I lay down and go to sleep.
"Chief come in, Angel has gone to sleep." I say.
"Good job Riley," the Chief says. "Now we will know for sure what exactly happens when she tries to kill."
Angel is wondering around the cell, trying to break the glass. Her eyes are closed and she is muttering something strange under her breath.
"What the hell is she trying to do?" I ask.
The chicken wire lined windows refuse to break against her weight. Angel finds a shard stone on the ground and cuts her wrist open. Blood gushes out, covering her arm in seconds. She uses her blood to draw a pentagram on the wall, and then a bunch of demonic incantations in Latin.
"Domine de morte si vocare te," she writes.
"Wait, I recognize what that means," I say. "When we raided that Satanist church a few years back, they kept chanting it. Afterwards, I looked it up. It means, 'lord of death, we summon thee.' She is obviously possessed. Call in reverend John III."
I have a really bad feeling about this, but we have to do an exorcism on this poor little girl.
The next morning I wake up in incredible pain. I look at my wrist and see that someone had wrapped it in gauze while I was asleep.
"What did I do while I was asleep?" I wonder aloud.
"You tried to escape last night. After you failed, you cut yourself and wrote that on the walls," the man on the other side of the glass wall gestures to the satanic symbols written all over it in blood. "We realized that you have been possessed by at least one demon, maybe more. Now, by law, we are not aloud to force you to undergo an exorcism, but I can guarantee that if you cooperate and it works we will let you go."
He smiles, hiding the fact that he is scared for me. "All crimes forgiven, at least from a legal standpoint," the man says looking at me intently. He adds, "We believe your 'telepathic' abilities made you more susceptible to demon possession, so after the exorcism you may need to start thinking about how you will keep away further possessions from happening."
I look at him, "Okay, I will cooperate. Only one thing, just promise that you wont hurt me in the process," I say.
The man says, "I can only promise that we wont hurt you. Now the demon or demons inside you, I cannot speak for them. The demonic forces inside you might control you to do things that might hurt you, but I can promise that we will try our best to restrain you and keep you from hurting yourself," he says.
"Okay. As long as it works, I'm on board," I say. Looks like I am going to have an exorcism. How fun.
That night as Angel sleeps, the reverend walks into the room.
"Let's go ahead and get this over with," says John. At the age of eighty-five, naturally he feels he is getting too old for exorcisms. In fact, this little girl right here is going to be his last exorcism.
"Arise, foul demon!!!" the reverend shouts.
Immediately, Angel's eyes opened and the voices of six-hundred and sixty-six demons spoke up. "Who dares disturb us?!" the demons shout through her mouth.
"In the name of our lord Jesus Christ I command you, tell me, what are you called?!" says John.
The girl immediately jerks her head back into an unnatural position. She starts screaming, howling in an inhuman voice.
All of a sudden, she is speaking in her own voice, looking confused. "What's going on? Where am I? I'm scared!" she says frantically.
The reverend takes out a vile of holy water and starts splashing the girl's face. Smoke comes pouring out of her pores, then the demons let out an unholy scream. "It burns us!!! It burns us!!!" the demons shout.
The reverend presses even harder. "Who are you demon?! In the name of Jesus, who are you!!!" the reverend says.
Finally he gets a response. The girl starts feverishly scratching at her arms, ripping flesh off. The demon is trying to make the reverend give up, but when that fails, the demon lets out one final cry, and shouts, "We are legion because we are many!!! Our numbers are 666!!!"
The reverend steps forward. Then, for no explicable reason, it starts raining blood inside the enclosed cell. "Legion, I command you in the name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Ghost, leave this child!!!" says the reverend.
The demons let out an earsplitting scream "NOOOOOOO!!!"
The reverend again splashes holy water on the demon. The demons then shout, "Legionis quod non servierit nabuchodonosor!!!"
The reverend procured a crucifix and then held it onto the girl's forehead. smoke started coming off her.
The demons scream again, the sound echoing around mercilessly.
"Leave this child and go back to the fiery depths of HELL!!!" shouts the reverend, then all at once everything stops.
The little girl Angel goes limp. Everyone is holding their breath. Angel's chest starts to steadily rise and fall.
She is alive, but exhausted. Immediately, the medical staff rush in and start tending to her wounds. The reverend lets out a sigh of relief.
Angel is no longer haunted by her demons. Literally.
I wake up in excruciating pain, but when I wake up I'm in a hospital bed, NOT in solitary confinement. I sigh with relief. Whatever they did works, and they've obviously let me go.
Max walks in with a smile on he face. "How are you doing sweetie?" Max asks.
I try to talk, but my throat is raw, and it comes out as a painful raspy squeak. "I am in incredible pain" I say, holding my throat and wincing in pain.
My throat is so raw, it's almost as if I was screaming all night. I feel like something more than a failed murder happened. My throat is burning like hell... Suddenly, I remember the exorcism and shudder.
I only remember bits and pieces of it, but what I do remember is freaking terrifying.
Max seams to catch that I'm scared, because she replies, "It's okay sweetie, its all over now, and the police said you can come home now! Best of all, the hospital said once you regained consciousness, we could take you home to recover."
Max seems totally ecstatic as she said this. I simply smile at the idea of everything going back to normal, or almost normal, that is, and fall back asleep.
Part Four: After the ExorcismEdit
That next Sunday, I go to church. I decided that since I'm extra vulnerable to demon possessions, I might want to take my religious life more seriously.
Everything they say seems to go against what everyone is thinking, except for a few, and this unnerves me. How am I supposed to take my religion seriously if I can't even talk to religious people?
After church, we go out and get some fried chicken. When the lady at the register recognizes me as the Angel of Death, the reaction is less than warming.
"Sorry, but we don't serve serial killers here," the women says with a snide grin that made me want to punch her.
"But that wasn't me doing it. It was the demons," I protest. She eyes me suspiciously.
"Whatever, Angel of Death," the woman hisses under her breath.
I realize that there are people who are so violently opposed to my beliefs that they go into denial when confronted with evidence.
"Let's eat somewhere else," Max says, walking away. We get into Max's car, driving to the other fried chicken place instead.
They don't shun me at this place, which makes me feel better. At least everyone doesn't hate me.
After the fried chicken, we go to a park. I've been here many times, but not since the killings.
"Hey, you there!!!" shouts a man behind us.
I turn around and see an angry mob. I quiver in fear. "Max? Does that look like a lynch crowd to you?" I say in a small, shaky voice.
"Angel, fly. Do and up and away NOW!!!" Max shouts frantically. I whip out my wings and jump into the air.
Max follows me, then says "I think we might need to go into hiding."
Maybe the people who accept me so few, I'll never be able to see the light of day again. Oh shit. My life's still a total mess.
Later that day, we land in a forest about twenty miles away.
"Ange, hold up a sec, I got to call Fang and let the rest of the flock know to come find us." Max says.
I look at her and ask, "Where are we headed now?"
Max looked at me and says, "Sweetie, we need to go into hiding. Remember how you always wanted to go to Europe? Well I'm thinking that Europe is the only place you will be safe, at least for now."
At least I won't be a fugitive. Looks like this adventure has just began.
After about an hour the rest of the flock had met up with us, Max filled them in on the plan. We fly to a small airfield and steal a small plane.
"Max? why are we steeling a plane, when we can fly?" asked Nudge.
Max rolls her eyes. She's tired, stressed, and wearing thin from all the shit that has happened thus far. "Well, we are flying over the ocean for roughly three thousand miles with no where to land with two bird kids who are barely older than a toddler, a blind bird kid, and very few supplies. Does that answer your question?" Nudge looks hurt, but nods anyway.
"Do you mind if I fly the plain?" asks Iggy, and everyone laughs. Iggy always does know how to get people to laugh.
Although on the slightly more serious side we have to get Fang to fly us to Europe, and let me just tell you, that is one of the longest flights I have ever been on.
I guess this is it with America. Onward to Europe!
We land in a field right out side Heathrow International Airport.
"So, great leader. Now what?" Fang says, eyeing Max with skepticism.
"Now, we fly via our wings to Italy, Where we will hide out for a little bit," Max says.
I look at her with one concern. "Max, are we still going to be able to go to church?" I say.
She gives me that look. "Sweetie, that is not my main priority, but once we get settled in I promise that I will find us another church to go to. Right now, under these circumstances, I think that church is possible right this second, but once I'm sure your safe, I promise-" Max lets her voice trail off.
This might not be as fun as I had hoped it would be.
The next day I robbed a bank. Please don't shoot me, first just hear my explanation, please? We have just finished off the last of the food from our Bugout bags, and needed food. Max had the idea that since we might be here for a while that we should buy a house.
Apparently, in Europe, it isn't too unusual for a fourteen year old to go buying a house. What does the future hold for us? No one knows. I cant answer it, or at least not yet.
I GUESS THIS IS THE END, for now.
Please do not vandalize this poll or vote before you finish the fanfiction.
Thank you for taking your time to rate this fanfiction. Your comments are always welcome as long as they do not violate the policy of the site.