My whole world is the pain inside me [Complete]
WHO: Angel and Maximum Ride
WHAT: A first flight gone tragically wrong (character death)
WHERE: The beach, and then the jungle
WHEN: Day 148, nighttime
Max was simply glad to be normal again. Or whatever she considered normal. Which meant five foot eight and winged. Not short and heavy. To put it simply, it seemed like a blur to Max as she ran home to tell Angel. They could fly together again. No longer would Max be stuck on the ground, watching her youngest flockmate flying without her leader, she could feel the rush of adrenaline as her fifth and sixth joints pumped in unison, careening over the city freer than the humans could ever imagine.
Anyone looking at her now would see a perfectly happy teenager. They’d probably think she had just gotten her first kiss. Her wings slowed her, yes, but Max couldn’t bear to contain them, not yet. People never knew what it was like to fly, and be denied its glory.
But she knew and had them back. She could hardly wait to fly again. Since Angel was here, and the closest thing to her heart, she wanted to show her. Her mind guided her to her house, unconsciously following magnetism to the house.
As she exploded, quite literally, she threw open the door with every ounce of mutant strength, into her house, she walked around the house with a flurry of energy only one hyped up on adrenaline with a very high metabolism could manage, she brought Angel outside and flourished her wings.
The girl’s blue eyes widened, her mouth forming a big “O”. While she was silent on the journals, as Max had refused to allow the girl to see the wretched stuff people wrote, or talked about in the journals, she wasn’t blind to the depression that made it through Max’s mask of strength.
In a weird way, Max was glad Angel couldn’t read minds as well here. She shouldn’t have been able to see the depression and frustration Max felt every time she saw Angel’s beautiful white wings. But she could see, and Max let her see the happiness her leader felt with the revival of her avian DNA.
“Come on,” Max whispered. She felt her instincts kicking back in as she lifted off, feathers brushing the wind. She had never been so glad to have her hair whipping in her face, nor so pleased to feel the muscles working to keep her aloft.
Max was happy, and because Max felt no worry, she couldn't in her joy of flight, Angel was carefree as well. Their flight took them to Angel’s limit of height, the usual forty feet. Max felt her body rising slightly above, but kept herself at Angel’s ability. This wasn’t just for her. It was a renewal of what Max had promised, whether said or unsaid. Max would always be there to get the flock out of trouble. She was their protector, their watchman, and their mother.
She didn’t know that today she would fail.
Her carefree attitude, one so unusual within her, but hardly contained with her joy of rediscovering her wings, both metaphorically and literally, took them to the place she now hated. It held one of her greatest fears, and an enemy of great power.
There was a relaxed air, and that was all Angel needed. The signs the flock knew gave Angel the inch she needed to go a foot. When Max began drifting lazily, enjoying the sensation, her flockmate sped ahead to play like any six-year-old should. She dove toward the treetops.
That shocked her into reality. She was slow to recover, so unused to flight. She twisted uncomfortably, and pursued. Before Max could at least try to shout at Angel to stop, both mentally and verbally, she had attracted the remainder of the sky snakes her leader had sought so long ago.
“Max!” Angel screamed; pursued by something she’d never seen, but Max knew all too wel. A large, black snake that evoked painful memories inside Max quickly began pursuing the child. Its head flattened, and with her sight, Max saw the inky black mouth and equally deadly fangs.
Instinct took over inside Max. She poured her strength into her flight, rocketing, nearly to her superspeed, to interfere with the snake's attack. The fifteen-year-old ignored that she had no weapons on her, that she was fighting barehanded, and didn’t stop to realize how futile this attempt would be.
She only knew that these snakes were attacking her baby, and that she needed to protect her.
Angel let out a scream that wrenched Max’s heart as she approached, tears forming in the wind, red fury sweeping her judgment. “Not Angel!” She cried in a scream reminiscent of a hawk. She’d take the bite before she allowed the girl to feel what she’d felt.
Only a foot away from the snake’s wings, not quite enough to attract its attention, Max’s brown eyes watched in horror as the black fangs sang themselves into Angel’s thigh, right through her jeans. Max knew the venom was going into the body.
There. Max ripped the snake’s wings, preventing it from wrapping around Angel to bite again, hastening the girl’s inevitable death. The snake went careening back into the jungle, snapping its back on a branch. Max was sickeningly pleased with the death.
A black mamba, Max recalled as she took Angel’s body into her arms. The weight was nothing to her anymore. She had grown stronger since arriving. Angel was well within her natural capabilities in any case. Slowly, Max descended to the beach, the body in her arms growing rigid. The paralysis came quicker with Angel’s smaller body mass.
Max’s knees crunched into the sand as Angel’s eyes began to water. She shakily raised a hand to her leader’s face. “Y-you saved me.” Angel managed through her lack of breath. “You,” She heaved a breath, “Always do.”
The flock’s leader cradled the dying girl to her chest, “I love you, Angel; I always have.” She wasn’t afraid to admit it to this girl, who had once been able to read minds. Angel’s breath was barely surviving, the tingling from it not quite getting through Max’s green hoodie. Angel pressed, weakly, into Max’s body, sighing. A weak arm moved to lay over Max’s shoulder in a hug. Tears dripped onto Angel's golden curls.
Even without her mutant ability to hear, Max knew Angel’s heart had stopped. The venom had finally reached the little girl’s heart, her weakened healing completely unable to cope with the powerful toxin injected.
This was her fault. She hadn’t been watching, and one of those damned snakes bit her, and killed her. Silent tears rolled down Max’s cheeks as she held the corpse of her baby, the youngest of her flock.
Rivelata hadn’t killed this little one. Her own carelessness had.
She wouldn’t let this body be cast into the river like all the others. Angel deserved better. This world didn’t deserve such a wonderful child. It never would. Max held Angel’s light body to her as she took off, heading over the city to the former corpse field. She needed wood.
There would be a fire; Angel would fly again.
If it was possible for a heart to break, Max’s shattered. She created the pyre for the closest thing to a daughter, tears obscuring her vision. She laid Angel atop the pile, and wrapped her in her own hoodie, the one that had held all their adventures, and more. The girl's face was covered by the hood.
Max stuck the tinder.
Slowly, the flames licked the sky. She watched the fire consume the corpse, tears flowing shamelessly. She couldn’t speak; it was a thousand times worse than when Ari died. Neither had deserved their deaths.
She opened her journal and wrote in a firm hand. This world can never simply give. Max closed it before the ink dried and tossed it aside. Her brown eyes watched as the fire burned Angel.
She was at fault for this. Angel had died because of her.
Maybe some part of her hoped someone would come. Someone she could simply cry on and never stop. Because she wasn’t this strong.
And she knew it.
WHAT: A first flight gone tragically wrong (character death)
WHERE: The beach, and then the jungle
WHEN: Day 148, nighttime
Max was simply glad to be normal again. Or whatever she considered normal. Which meant five foot eight and winged. Not short and heavy. To put it simply, it seemed like a blur to Max as she ran home to tell Angel. They could fly together again. No longer would Max be stuck on the ground, watching her youngest flockmate flying without her leader, she could feel the rush of adrenaline as her fifth and sixth joints pumped in unison, careening over the city freer than the humans could ever imagine.
Anyone looking at her now would see a perfectly happy teenager. They’d probably think she had just gotten her first kiss. Her wings slowed her, yes, but Max couldn’t bear to contain them, not yet. People never knew what it was like to fly, and be denied its glory.
But she knew and had them back. She could hardly wait to fly again. Since Angel was here, and the closest thing to her heart, she wanted to show her. Her mind guided her to her house, unconsciously following magnetism to the house.
As she exploded, quite literally, she threw open the door with every ounce of mutant strength, into her house, she walked around the house with a flurry of energy only one hyped up on adrenaline with a very high metabolism could manage, she brought Angel outside and flourished her wings.
The girl’s blue eyes widened, her mouth forming a big “O”. While she was silent on the journals, as Max had refused to allow the girl to see the wretched stuff people wrote, or talked about in the journals, she wasn’t blind to the depression that made it through Max’s mask of strength.
In a weird way, Max was glad Angel couldn’t read minds as well here. She shouldn’t have been able to see the depression and frustration Max felt every time she saw Angel’s beautiful white wings. But she could see, and Max let her see the happiness her leader felt with the revival of her avian DNA.
“Come on,” Max whispered. She felt her instincts kicking back in as she lifted off, feathers brushing the wind. She had never been so glad to have her hair whipping in her face, nor so pleased to feel the muscles working to keep her aloft.
Max was happy, and because Max felt no worry, she couldn't in her joy of flight, Angel was carefree as well. Their flight took them to Angel’s limit of height, the usual forty feet. Max felt her body rising slightly above, but kept herself at Angel’s ability. This wasn’t just for her. It was a renewal of what Max had promised, whether said or unsaid. Max would always be there to get the flock out of trouble. She was their protector, their watchman, and their mother.
She didn’t know that today she would fail.
Her carefree attitude, one so unusual within her, but hardly contained with her joy of rediscovering her wings, both metaphorically and literally, took them to the place she now hated. It held one of her greatest fears, and an enemy of great power.
There was a relaxed air, and that was all Angel needed. The signs the flock knew gave Angel the inch she needed to go a foot. When Max began drifting lazily, enjoying the sensation, her flockmate sped ahead to play like any six-year-old should. She dove toward the treetops.
That shocked her into reality. She was slow to recover, so unused to flight. She twisted uncomfortably, and pursued. Before Max could at least try to shout at Angel to stop, both mentally and verbally, she had attracted the remainder of the sky snakes her leader had sought so long ago.
“Max!” Angel screamed; pursued by something she’d never seen, but Max knew all too wel. A large, black snake that evoked painful memories inside Max quickly began pursuing the child. Its head flattened, and with her sight, Max saw the inky black mouth and equally deadly fangs.
Instinct took over inside Max. She poured her strength into her flight, rocketing, nearly to her superspeed, to interfere with the snake's attack. The fifteen-year-old ignored that she had no weapons on her, that she was fighting barehanded, and didn’t stop to realize how futile this attempt would be.
She only knew that these snakes were attacking her baby, and that she needed to protect her.
Angel let out a scream that wrenched Max’s heart as she approached, tears forming in the wind, red fury sweeping her judgment. “Not Angel!” She cried in a scream reminiscent of a hawk. She’d take the bite before she allowed the girl to feel what she’d felt.
Only a foot away from the snake’s wings, not quite enough to attract its attention, Max’s brown eyes watched in horror as the black fangs sang themselves into Angel’s thigh, right through her jeans. Max knew the venom was going into the body.
There. Max ripped the snake’s wings, preventing it from wrapping around Angel to bite again, hastening the girl’s inevitable death. The snake went careening back into the jungle, snapping its back on a branch. Max was sickeningly pleased with the death.
A black mamba, Max recalled as she took Angel’s body into her arms. The weight was nothing to her anymore. She had grown stronger since arriving. Angel was well within her natural capabilities in any case. Slowly, Max descended to the beach, the body in her arms growing rigid. The paralysis came quicker with Angel’s smaller body mass.
Max’s knees crunched into the sand as Angel’s eyes began to water. She shakily raised a hand to her leader’s face. “Y-you saved me.” Angel managed through her lack of breath. “You,” She heaved a breath, “Always do.”
The flock’s leader cradled the dying girl to her chest, “I love you, Angel; I always have.” She wasn’t afraid to admit it to this girl, who had once been able to read minds. Angel’s breath was barely surviving, the tingling from it not quite getting through Max’s green hoodie. Angel pressed, weakly, into Max’s body, sighing. A weak arm moved to lay over Max’s shoulder in a hug. Tears dripped onto Angel's golden curls.
Even without her mutant ability to hear, Max knew Angel’s heart had stopped. The venom had finally reached the little girl’s heart, her weakened healing completely unable to cope with the powerful toxin injected.
This was her fault. She hadn’t been watching, and one of those damned snakes bit her, and killed her. Silent tears rolled down Max’s cheeks as she held the corpse of her baby, the youngest of her flock.
Rivelata hadn’t killed this little one. Her own carelessness had.
She wouldn’t let this body be cast into the river like all the others. Angel deserved better. This world didn’t deserve such a wonderful child. It never would. Max held Angel’s light body to her as she took off, heading over the city to the former corpse field. She needed wood.
There would be a fire; Angel would fly again.
If it was possible for a heart to break, Max’s shattered. She created the pyre for the closest thing to a daughter, tears obscuring her vision. She laid Angel atop the pile, and wrapped her in her own hoodie, the one that had held all their adventures, and more. The girl's face was covered by the hood.
Max stuck the tinder.
Slowly, the flames licked the sky. She watched the fire consume the corpse, tears flowing shamelessly. She couldn’t speak; it was a thousand times worse than when Ari died. Neither had deserved their deaths.
She opened her journal and wrote in a firm hand. This world can never simply give. Max closed it before the ink dried and tossed it aside. Her brown eyes watched as the fire burned Angel.
She was at fault for this. Angel had died because of her.
Maybe some part of her hoped someone would come. Someone she could simply cry on and never stop. Because she wasn’t this strong.
And she knew it.