When someone feels like they've made the single worst decision of their life it, quite plainly, sucks. So when I turn around and look at the mirror, I see….some horrible being broken out of a huge containment cell.

The wet smack hitting the floor would be me, and the huge ass pain I get from behind me and behind my eyes would be landing backwards onto the gosh darn hard tile. Horrible pain.

Ok. I have to open my eyes, so I do.

But I do try, it's the single most stupid decision I have ever made. And it just so happens to be my first non-scientists provoked decision. (Of those include "It's either I run or get my feet done extra crispy—okay. I run like hell!" And the ever popular, "I kill my opponent, use my power—or get killed. Sorry but it's battle of the fittest here.)

So I try again.

With tiny little baby flutters of my eyes lashes until I can see straight. And prevent the searing.

I roll onto my hands, pushing myself up with my arms and stretching my wings, the goop in the feathers slopping onto the floor. When they're completely spread, I shake them much like a dog.

And that's when I notice all the people around me gaping.

I'm seriously annoyed by now of all these gaping idiots. Though since I haven't been shocked or shoved onto a crate, I figure that they're not completely evil—but if they're trying to be nice, they could have tried to soften my fall onto the damn solid ground.

When I finally see they're just standing there, still gaping after a good thirty seconds of silence, I snap.

"You all keep staring at me like that and you'll look like fish for the rest of your lives," I say darkly.

But one of these guys—technically a tan-ish looking chick—looks at me (again) and gasps out, "Tally?"

I frown, "Tally two. But what's it to ya?"

And just because I mention that, I'm whisked away. Like lightning, I whip out of the lady's hands and back up against a wall, arching my wings above me to seem bigger, crouching and baring my teeth. Hell, it was worth a shot, the scientists sure as hell hated it when I did it.

"First of all," I started after everyone in the room stopped moving. Couldn't risk apprehended. Who knows how they could have messed with my little environment. "Who the hell are you people? And why are you breaking me out of my place?"

Iggy had bunched up his tie, throwing it on the ground. The tiny flutter

It was official. If there was anyone in the world who hated dead people, it would be him. He went to her funeral, he stood there and listened as they put her in the ground. Fully aware that the girl he was in love with was cold and going to be rotting. And probably still radiant. But she was dead. Gazzy had told him that her wings were wrapped around her. And she was wearing a blue dress that made her look like a real angel.

"God dammit!" he grunted, slamming his injured fist into the wall. "Why the hell did you die? Everything was finally okay!"

He had stayed over night, after he heard the people put dirt all over her coffin. And he only came in after he knew the flock would be gone from the house, trying to help look for any experiments. Two weeks.

Two weeks had passed since the horrible fight at the Facility, the dangerous escape they made with the help of a bouncy and self-sacrificing experiment named Cookie, and her technological genius of a boyfriend, Kaiden.

Two weeks had passed since he last saw her. Last heard her beautiful voice.

And in those two weeks, he had to fight tooth and nail with whitecoats to make sure that she got into the ground with all of her organs. He refused the removal of her organs. Jeb had found one of the special cells the whitecoats had used to store dead experiments in their morgues. Would completely preserve her. Prevent her from decomposing. Forever staying beautiful.

But she wouldn't have cared, he thought. She never cared about how she looked.

He gave a dry grin, tears stinging at his eyes, begging to crawl down his face. But no, he had cried enough. Tally would have been on him twenty-four seven trying to make him smile. Or hell, annoying him until he ended up chasing her around.

The sudden shrill ring of a phone somewhere in the safe house they were at sounded. Iggy gave a start, his hand crashing against the wall again; this time by accident. His pinky twisted in a way it was supposed to. The pain came in sharp and he put his digit in him mouth, muffling the string of cuss words leaving his lips. He made his way to the phone, not expecting at all the short, clipped sentences that were uttered to him.

"Her clone."


"You can be happy."

"Come right away."

He put down the phone slowly after listening to the dial tone.

"….her clone?"

What clues me in to the horrible torture that is me in a room filled to the brim with a ton of people who happened to have wings? The fact that they have wings out and are looking at each other and me like they're trying to figure out whether to have a burrito or a taco for breakfast, and realizing that they'll regret it majorly afterwards (horribly tortured hours in the bathroom) and are now wondering how the hell to deal with the ten orders of tacos and burritos that they just ordered cause it they couldn't decide in the first place.

Instead of looking at these freaks, I look at the dog. Then my eyes drift away because I remember from files I've read that this dog can talk and is giving me a strangely similar look to the other freaks with wings.

Now, the freaks themselves I have memorized.

Max. Counter part Max Two was a horrible bee-yotch to me. And I would have been glad to make her brain dead if I was allowed. Or hell, settle for my fists if I had to. Thank god I couldn't find her or else she'd be dead for landing me in the fire escape survival training. Last I checked she was shipped off to Germany.

Fang. His counter part was…floating around. I don't know. I know his counter part was supposed to be my twin as well, but I couldn't give a rat's ass about him. He once stuck a tooth in me when I tried to talk to him about us being siblings. And then he calmly licked his shiny white teeth as if he didn't just bite into me like I was a blood packet and he was some winged vampire.

Nudge. Her counter part was eradicated a while ago. For being too soft—we all called her Softy. Sent to Germany for termination awhile ago.

Gazzy. I miss the kid he was pretty good. He stuck with me through it all; until they pitted me against him in an arena. It was hard to use my powers on him, but it was either me or him. And I always pick me—because who else will? I was (and am) just a mutant in this big place, might as well look after myself some. I liked to call him Baby Boy.

Angel. They got real frustrated with her model; was more interested in playing with teddies than she was in tearing up the Goblin they put her up against. But she was sure a sweetheart. I called her Baby Girl. Sent her to Germany as well.

And then my counterpart wasn't among them. But she was supposed to be mute and easily scared. Paranoid. Could freeze and stop time and pass on pictures- molecular manipulation.

Just as I was about to open my mouth to talk to these people and asked why in hell's name they decided I was so damn fascinating, a person burst in through the door. And I nearly had a heart attack.

"Gunner?" I gasped out almost silently at the same time he called out rather blindly, "Tally?"

I shook my head quickly, noticing that his eyes were clouded over. "You're not Gunner….you must be Iggy," I muttered slowly, trying to push any thought of my winged buddy away from my mind.

It was so depressing how quickly the energy flowed straight out of me and into the dang ground. Really, Gunner? Pssh, about as possible as trying to get a pig to fly. (They weighed far too much, and their cleaning tendencies made the feathers weight too much.)

Max stepped forward and claimed her distraught looking flock member. I watched silently, molding my face so it displayed no emotion, so I practically looked bored. She pulled him aside, his strawberry blonde hair shifting around in all the same places that Gunner's would.

"It's not Tally…okay? Tally is in the ground. This is her clone. Don't try anything, it got a bit violent when we let it out," she whispered. As if I was not right there, a few feet away.

"Excuse me, sweetheart, but I happen to be right here. And I am not an 'it.' I happen to be the damn proud owner of a female reproductive system."

They all stared at me again.

Um, maybe I came on a bit strong. Stupid me. Need to learn to tune down the snarkiness.

"I know she's not Tally, Max," Iggy said, his voice was a bit clogged sounding. As if he had been crying recently; I heard that tenor often enough around the Facility. "But still."

"Yeah, what he said. Treat me like a human, will ya?" I said and then paused at the silence. "Okay, so maybe that's not all that accurate but still. I'd like to be treated with respect, thank you very much."

This seemed to put Max in a foul mood because she addressed me in a manner that I could only compare with her idiotic clone. "Just shut up. This has nothing to do with you."

"Yee-ouch. Kitty got claws. I couldn't give a dang if you think I'm involved or not. If you didn't notice, my original is dead, and this guy"—I point at Iggy here—"happens to be the only guy in here treating me well in the entire fifty seconds he's been in this room with you comatose people."

Max glared at me for a long while, and then she crosses her arms and sighs.

When she says nothing in response to what I said, I resist to stick my tongue out at her and say "Na na na na-na! I won!" because, of course, that is completely childish and I would never in my life do that….unless I really felt like it.

"Are you Tally?" the blind boy asks me.

I look him straight in the eyes, feeling somewhat comforted by the fact that they aren't the funky green color that Gunner's were. "No. The scientists called me Talon II. But the others call me Violet. Obviously"—I point at my eyes—"because of this screw up of the scientists."

Iggy simply blinks at me, as if waiting for something.

I look around, my guard going up some more, before I realize why he is completely silent. After the dog mutters "Imbecile" under his breath.

And boy do I feel like the chick who picked roses and jewelry over a free meal. "Ah, my eyes are purple. Chemical imbalance or something. Just like you're Tally had gray eyes instead of brown," I say quickly, feeling heat all over my face.

"Ah," Iggy says, sort of robotically.

And the silence continues.

Just my freaking luck, I got stuck with a band of mute mutants.