Broken Angel

Chapter One: The Hybrid Angel

The new creature stood in the centre of the stone cell, surrounded by men with clipboards, who would study her for several minutes, whispering animatedly with each other, before scribbling furiously on the clipboards, and studying her again.

She ignored them, just as she ignored the servants who scuttled round attending to their masters' needs. She ignored the blood trickling slowly down her arm, unconcerned by its cause, unconcerned by the sparks that were rippling over her skin.

The claws on her hands slid slowly back, retracted, but still cruel- looking, still dangerous. A low growl rumbled in her throat, while her jaw tightened, as if too keep the sound from escaping, sharp, white fangs pressing against her bottom lip until a crimson droplet squeezed from underneath her skin, shimmering like a jewel, until a pink tongue flickered out and in again, sweeping it away.

A long, black tail flicked and twitched irritably around her feet, another indication of her mood, large, black wings folded neatly behind her, not a single raven feather out of place. Her slit pupils narrowed, the amber of the irises darkening, but still she didn't speak, the only sound being that low, rumbling growl deep in her throat.

"Gentlemen, I think our experiment has finally been successful." One of them began excitedly. "We have produced an outstanding specimen, and I have no doubt that it will be a joy to work with. Further examinations will of course be carried out on it, but it seems upon first inspection to be a perfect specimen. Congratulations gentlemen, on a job well done."

"I suggest that we all get some rest, and continue the experiment when we are refreshed." There was a murmur of assent around the room, and a few arm- stretches and yawns to emphasise the point. "Someone make sure it can't get out, we're not sure quite what it's capable of yet, or whether it will be entirely suitable, so we don't want it running around the facility on its own, do we?"

After several hours of being prodded, poked and talked about, she was left alone in the dark, cold cell, nameless, raceless, soulless. After all, how could the result of an experiment have a soul?

She sat in the remains of the shell of the egg she had emerged from only hours ago, fully developed, roughly seventeen years in appearance, sensitive fingertips lovingly caressing a piece of her former home. Her pointed velvet ears drooped as salty tears slid down her cheeks.

She stood up and walked to the single, barred window, the stone floor brutally cold against her bare feet, and stared up at the pale, silvery moon, shrouded in late winter mist. She shivered slightly, dressed only in a large t-shirt with a sash tied around the waist to keep it in place. The fabric was so thin you could see the shadows of her underwear below, a few shades darker than the white of the t-shirt. Had they not been expecting her to hatch tonight? Or maybe they'd expected her to emerge fully clothed?

She turned away from the window, seeing her reflection in a puddle of water on the floor, and crouched down for a closer look, curious to see what she looked like. The image that stared up at her was strange, but somehow familiar at the same time. She could see certain similarities to the humans that studied her, in the way that she walked upright, and the general shape of her body. 'Humanoid' they'd said.

But there were differences too. A resemblance to a small, furry animal they called a 'cat', in her amber eyes with their slit pupils, the pointed ears; black and velvety on the outside, mottled pink inside, lighter nearer the tip, and darker further down. In the fangs that still pressed against her bottom lip in her agitation, and the claws, retracted at the moment, but if they didn't stop acting like she couldn't understand them, or as if she didn't exist, and start talking to her; well, who knows.

And of course, there was the long, black tail that flicked around her feet. But there were also huge, black wings on her back; she hadn't seen one of these 'cats' with wings yet. Maybe there was another breed of cats with wings, or maybe she was more of a hybrid than she realised, combined with some strange winged animal she hadn't yet encountered.

At least she knew she was a hybrid. No that they had told her, she'd managed to work that out by herself, much as she had every other piece of information she clutched at desperately in a forlorn attempt to understand her surroundings. Not that she'd managed to glean much information, and most of it seemed useless to her, but some was better than none. They couldn't hope to keep her ignorant for long, surely?

Well, whether they wanted to or not, they weren't going to. Suddenly, an overwhelming thirst to know as much information as her mind could contain washed over her. How dare they try to starve her of knowledge? For heavens sakes, they hadn't even told her her name yet!

If she even had a name.

She had to have a name; they couldn't honestly expect her to go through life without a name, an identity, however vague. Or maybe they didn't expect her to live long. They'd said they had more 'examinations' to do, what if she didn't meet their expectations? Would they just dispose of her? Kill her? Throw her out, abandoning her to look after herself? And did they expect her to survive alone? Probably not. It was probably just a convenient way of getting rid of her without being directly responsible for her death.

Eventually, she rose, moved to the corner of the cell where the remnants of her egg had been left, and lay down among the fragments, the largest piece she could find, still almost leathery to the touch, serving as a makeshift cover, the fleeing remains of familiarity being all the comfort she could find.

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Wolf: Heyo, new idea, hope you like it. I seem to be getting on with this character at the minute, she's being co-operative, which is more than can be said for Onyx. ¬¬ I really wish she's co-operate with me. But she doesn't. If anyone has any ideas where they'd like Running Scared to go, e- mail me and let me know.

Before you go, I'm thinking of changing my author name, maybe to Idril Amandil. Do you approve? Have any better ideas? Send 'em this way. Please. :: Begs ::

And now, just when you thought you could escape, one last thing: pleeeeeeeeeeeeease review! Pretty please! I'm gonna shut up now, and wait for you to review.

^ ^

Wolf