runaways

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he jumped off the cliff with no intent of death but he did it on purpose. the heavy breeze felt nice as he cut through the air as sharp as a knife and as fast as light.

the ground grew near but tord had no worries. his arms sailed behind him as he shut his eyes calmly.

before he hit the ground, he unfurled beautiful white wings. he snapped them down and up as the wind was knocked out of him from being pulled from the air so suddenly.

but he gained it back when the voices of the angry scientists grew faint. now the only thing he heard was the air screeching as he past it at lighting speed.

he was being chased people who wanted to capture him and expirament on him. he knew whatever they were going to do was never intended to set tord free. he would be held captive forever.

but there was one scientist that he kept seeing. a kid his age, maybe 18. he knew he was a scientist because of his white shirt. they always wore white shirts. tord didnt know why, but it benefitted tord. he always could differentiate between good people and bad people.

why tord was so interested in this boy, he didnt know. all he should be focused on now was getting away.

he liked where he was, though. he found a dry cave that had no signs of life other than himself. a couple hawks came around once in a while, but he didnt mind.

he always had money for food. how he got money was a bit...

illegal.

he watched people take out money from those portable bank things, memorize the code and then got some money.

hey, he needed it more than these people did. tord was a god compared to them.

he learned a thing or two from the people. he learned that the places they lived in were payed for. there was a thing called 'mortgage' where every month or so they would have to pay even more for the house.

tord saw this is as pointless. it was very confusing, too.

there were things called books. a book was a story, put on paper and sold to people who liked it. tord never has never read a book before because being on the run was more important. he was able to read and write, if you were wondering.

four years ago he was captured. he was tested on, and one expirament costed a good fraction of his memory. he is slowly recovering old thoughts and visions.

the people took him to a building far, far away. most of the tests required a lot of running. they would let wild dogs loose and make them chase tord with his wings tied back. he got bit once.

the dogs were immediatley taken back if tord was injured. he heard them say that tord was 'to precious to be killed off.'

but they didnt act like that to him.

if he did not cooperate he was beaten. he was beaten atleast once or twice a week. until he realized that listening would get him out of the pain.

other tests run on him were flying exams. he would have to dodge bullets in the air. these bullets were fake but they still hurt.

taking up the fast healing of a bird was a good trait in this situation.

one day, while no one was paying attenion tord faked his death. he lied down in his cot and relaxed himself, slowing his breath and abnormally (but normal for him) fast heartbeat.

they rushed in, yelling and commanding eachother.

"why did you take your eyes off of him?!?"

"quick, check his pulse!"

"whats going on?!"

tord took this as a chance to get away. while everything was chaotic he lurched himself up and ran out the door in a flash.

from time to time, certain things trigger tragic memories. like just the sight of a white shirt or loud noises. like just seeing tord still has not found out why.

tord angled his body down and tucked in his wings. he dove down aiming for behind a trashy building called the 'moon motel.' ten feet above the ground he angled himself back up and snapped out his wings, having them face the ground like a parachute. he landed safely.

avian mistake (tomtord)Where stories live. Discover now