Blinding lights pounded overhead, eyelids not capable of keeping all of it out. A cold table pressed against his back sucked out all the heat, the thin fabric of the hospital gown not providing much insulation. A headache pounded at his head.

Groaning, the otherwise bare man groggily raised a hand to try and massage the pain in his temple. A needle was taped to the inside of his elbow, the throbbing only adding to the pain of the head. With a grunt, the Youtuber sat up only to rest their head in their hands.

Itching crawled up his spine and arms, creating a seed of curiosity within their mind. Without the lights blinding him, the lone man in the room eyed the scale imprints crawling up to his elbows. A shuttered breath could be heard, distracting them from the sounds of footsteps coming down the hall.

An iron door near the one-way mirror spanning the wall hissed as it opened. Jolted out of their stuper, the Minecrafter swiveled his head to five doctors in white coats.

"You confidant about this?" A short-haired bronzette asked, following the group while holding a small hologram. He was busy swiping between several alien-like creatures, the small information screen ineligible from where the Muffinteer was sitting.

"Affirmative. What can go wrong?" A more confidant female with platinum hair nodded to the doctor with the holograms. She only carried a small bag slung over her shoulder, a smile on her face.

"Easy. Everything." A slightly younger looking male sighed, pinching the bridge of their nose as the obsidian curls threatened to poke their eyes. They held a few files under their arm. The golden blonde next to him looked ready to accept death already. With a sigh, she agreed. "It's not that hard. And I bet my yearly salary that it will happen."

The fifth and final was by far the most bizarre looking, yet clearly looked ready to bolt being in the presence of the other four. The easiest way to decribe them was a tiger and a deer had a baby and  by some miracle it stood on two legs. The 6-point antlers easily added two feet/0.6 meters to their already 2 meter/6 foot high figure, the striped deer face failing to bury deeper into the many papers in their cloven hands while struggling to not drop an important-looking case.

"Oh! You're up!" The confident platimun perked up even more, seeing the stunned face of the once drugged man. A deadly silence filled the room, seeming to radiate from the first four doctors. The mutated buck noticed this as well, and quickly went to work on preparing a vile.

Eyeing the watch on her wrist, platinum silently cursed.

"Good morning, good night."

All Sapnap knew was that he was somehow sitting up, despite having only been on gravel not to long ago. Did he make it to the hotel than pass out on the floor?
No. He had tripped outside when something sharp had hit in.

And golly was his arm sore.

The grogginess he had ever slowly went away, the blackness clouding his vision going with it. Head downward, it took Sap a second to realize why he wasn't slumped over if he couldn't even hold his head up.
A leather strap held him to the seat, the sole reason he hadn't fallen to the floor yet.

Trying, Sapnap went to lift his hands to try and help calm a dull headache. Yet they didn't budge much. Wrists strapped to the armrests, the grogginess went away at a much faster rate. And his arm. Whoever did this must have stabbed it with a needle 20 times or more.

Vision clear, Sap noticed that there was a lump on the inside of his elbow that didn't match the other. A cotton wad pressed against the area by a wrap of medical tape was the culprit.

Yelling outside sprang up Sapnap's head, giving him time to get a good look around the area.

'I'm, I'm in a plane?'

Sure enough, Sap got his half of the row all to himself. Panicked, Sapnap looked across the aisle to find a familiar Brit. George still looked out cold, but Sapnap could make out a thick wad of cotton wrapped around his elbow. Craning his neck, Sap could see a head of dirty blonde hair in front of him, and head of brown in front of George's row. A familiar red-rimmed hoodie could barely be seen, but that was all that was needed to release a thankful sigh.

"HO- -HE HE- - -M I SUP- - - - O FLY IN THI- -"
The wind outside stole fragments of the voice's words, the sound of the plane door opening before closing just barely audible. The single conscience passenger froze for a second.

"Don't worry. I'll make sure that you can get to the mainland." A more monotonous voice pipped up as the two entered the main cabin area.
Not wanting to get caught, Sapnap hung his head down, praying that they didn't notice.

"And if I go through with this, what of my family?" The first asked, the relief in his voice clear as they were out of the storm.
"Just give me a call when you have found a place to settle down over there. Along with me granting you and your wife and kids permission off the island, I'm also giving you a million dollars to make a living for yourself. There's surprisingly not many that want to go to the mainland that can pilot a plane." The second voice explained, holding a light yet firm grip on the direction of the conversation.
"Alright. And what of them?"
"You don't need to worry about that."

"Oh. Are you going to have me meet someone who will take them to another secret lab of your's? I know you always have a secret buried under a secret." The male accused, sending a small threat.

"What? Oh, no. I did aaaaaaall the testing and preparation I needed on the island."

The male voice was hesitant, a clear shift in his tone.

"Mind explaining?"

"Well of course!"

Footsteps came down the aisle, setting panic to flood Sapnap's veins. But no one else had stirred, so he figured best not to find out what happens when they see one awake. He did, however, try to sneak a glance at the two as they stopped in front of Bad's row. Both of them wore dark clothing, not much else being distinguishable.

"Hoodie over here truly was a fright to look at in the simulations, but he did have the cutest docile form."
"No. No, you can't be serious." The first cut in, disbelief and fear present.

"Does it look like I am?"
"You are releasing someone onto the mainland with Shallawa potential, no. A confirmed Shallawa shift onto the mainland?! And he's only the first one you talked about! What other things have you done to the rest?!"

"Calm down. From what I've seen on the cameras in the cabin he was staying at, no one could be a better first choice."
"Ugh. *deep breath*.What of four-eyes back here? Did you do anything there?"

"So. So. So many simulations. But I did not alter his genes like I did the Texan over there."
"You found out where they liv- you know what. Never mind. So what made you not want to change it? Surely you didn't run out of resources to do it."

"Right on the resources. But this British person is truly a wildcard! First simulation- Blue-Ring Octopus. Second simulation- A freaking Military Macaw! And no two of the other 73 simulations were similar!"
"Let me guess. You stuck a tracker in this one. Sure your simulator isn't broken?"

"No. My simulator is NOT broken. I had them give him breaks and throw in the other three at random. All of those were the. Exact. Same."
"Easy there. Ok, moving on. What of these two over here?"

Sapnap steadied his breathing best he could, trying to think calmly as he felt their stares land on him.

"This one I decided to do a little modification to."
"You already-"
"NO! That would take out all the fun! No. By modification I simply changed some genetic material in his cells into something more exciting."
"Wait, you can- what am I saying? You can do anything. You are basically playing God at this point."

The second was quiet, waiting for the conversation to pick up again.

"Eh. W-what was it you wanted to change?"

"Well. All the tests showed up to be bear-like Primata, but further research showed up as a panda. I personally felt that it wasn't fit for such a fiery spirit, seeing as how he once woke up and tried to set the lab on fire. Truly inspirational."
" Eeeeeeeeeeh yeah. Inspirational. Does he remember it?"

Sap simply froze for a minute, trying frantically to recall what the heck they were talking about. He didn't notice the pause in the chatter during it, more focused on fixing his memory. All efforts were for naught as the conversation picking up again made it more difficult to concentrate.

"No. I made a special test to deal with that. He shouldn't remember the lab to a detail others working there can. If anything it will seem extremely fuzzy."

"What of the blonde?"

Sapnap felt the stares leave him, a small sigh escaping.

"You wouldn't believe me."
"I still don't believe this whole plan, yet I'm listening."

"Albino Shallawa."
"You're lying." The remark shot back fast, a hint of feralness behind it.

"Fine, fine."
". . . How long are they supposed to stay out?"

"Honestly, not sure. All I want is for them to be out once you are taking off on the last leg. I have some guys there ready to help ya move them to the next area, then away they go and you get paid."
"Alright. Mind showing me the spot of injection and what to who? After three years working with you I know how picky you are about the most random things. Frankly I have never seen anyone so precise when it came to their barbecue ribs.

"Ah yes. I supposed you would like to know. But leave my dinner choices out of this."
"He-"
"Honestly, I don't want you accidentally killing my wildcard while the Albino is still conscious and putting up a fight- which if you piss off you most certainly will lose. The syringes are up in the cockpit in a black box. They are labeled by the row of each person. And you will inject the entire dosage here."

Sap jumped when he felt a cold finger touch the side of his neck. The straps across his chest and wrists kept him from going far however, but they did not keep a hearty swear contained. And only now did Sapnap realize his ankles had been strapped in as well. He couldn't even take his anger or fear out on the seat in front of him, even if it was his friend's seat.

"Looks like we already have a possum." The first chuckled half-heartily, not sure whether to openly show concern for his passenger or mimic his employer's more twisted nature.

Sapnap was very visibly shaking now, fear pumping through his loud heart to the rest of the veins. He kept his head down and eyes screwed shut.

"What do we do?"
"What do you mean? We already covered the basis of your job intel. I think the only thing left to note is to check on them at each stop. If you need to let one up, one at a time and secure when they're back. I have a harness of sorts and a dart gun on board to ensure they don't get away. But don't go crazy with the darts. If they get rowdy, I think you can see what further restraints I have installed. I advise you to not be the reason should my plan mess up." The second voice ended in a dead tone, the warning clear as day.

One pair of footsteps went back down the aisle, one pair staying. "Have a safe flight!" The opening of the cabin door was met with the whipping wind outside before getting shut off again.

Hearing a sigh, Sapnap jumped again (although not as harshly as the first) as a hand rested on his shoulder.

"Hey, sorry 'bout that. Um." The masculine voice dropped his guard and with it the sternness it held before.
"Do you need anything?" He asked softly.

"N-no." Sap slurred out, the lack of being able to move not helping. With each jerk against the restraints another dulled jolt of pain went through his arm.
Cold fingers, but not like the icicles the person before had, grabbed his arm and started to work on the cotton wad.

"Hold still." They commanded, either not aware or not caring that Sap had tears ready to fall.

The wad came off fast, and with it the human contact when the ravin-haired had nothing much to add.
"And away we go." He heard, hearing the door between the cockpit and the cabin closed.

All alone, the situation pressed further onto the youngest of the group. Here he was, unable to do anything about his current situation. He couldn't even curl up due to the confounded straps holding him in place. He just had to sit and wait for whatever these freaks had next in mind.

He felt the plane start to move, the rain still blasting at the windows. With a slow stop, the engine firing up to flying speeds steadily got louder. With a jerky movement, the plane started at a crawl. Then to a run. And finally to a full-on sprint down the runway.

Hot tears fell within the next minute, a scream sounding through the cabin. Both were only acknowledged by defeated sobs and the roar of the engine as the plane left the ground.

~•~•~•~

A headache pounded at George's skull, seeming to threaten to crack it. The Brit's first instinct was to grab at the pain, his plan quickly being put on hold.
Groaning slightly as vision started to return, George looked at himself sitting upright, which to George at the time seemed like some miracle.
'Yes! I may be tired but I can still stay upright!'

And that quickly went down in a flaming ball of disappointment and shock.

Drowsiness gone like rain water in a desert, George shot his head up.
'I'm back on the plane? If so then where's-'

A quiet sob across the aisle broke his train of thought, George looking across.
"Sapnap!"

His friend looked up and immediately turned towards George, a smile quickly showing on the otherwise mournful face.
"G-george?! You're awake!"

"W-where are we?"
"George, I wish I knew." Sapnap stated, wiping any tear trails left on his face into his shoulder.
"All I know is that we took off from Revtal Island back to Iceland."

"How long have I been out?"
"Who knows, and you missed the take-off. We just barely took off on the fourth leg."

"Fourth leg? Wait." George turned his head to look out the window, watching as the rain pounded against the glass. The wind had somehow miraculously not torn the wings off the plane yet. A bright flash of lightning lit up the otherwise dim cabin. Taking this moment, George quickly realized they were in the same plane that brought them over.

"HOW HAS THIS NOT CRASHED YET!?"

Sap gave the Brit a 'I don't know.'

The plane jerked downward before regaining the lost altitude, seeming to tease the idea of crashing. A groan escaped George's throat, his backrest going back as he pushed the button on the side of the armrest.

"George! You can lean your seat back?"

Looking across the aisle, the Brit was honestly amazed.

"Uh, yeah? You don't recall nearly crushing me on the way over here?"
"Oh, right. I did do that. Then you kicked my seat."

George scoffed at that remark, leaning back as the strap took him down. The smooth leather loosened a bit as well as it climbed up to the shoulders.
If I sank down in the seat, I should be able to get it off.

The plane tilted a bit downward ahead, getting a yawn out of one of the passengers in the row ahead.

A quiet 'muffinhead' could be heard up ahead, the eldest seeming more affected by sleep than tranquilizer. The blonde was still out cold from what George could guess.

"George! I got an idea."

Bringing his seat back up and the strap resetting to its original location, the Brit looked at the American.
"What is it?"

"I figured that if either you or me could wiggle out of the straps when the seat gets leaned back, then they could go around and get the others out."
"You didn't think I hadn't already thought of that? That would only realistically work if Bad or Dream wake up as well. I'm fine with hauling one of them around, but not both. And even then we don't know how many guys are on this plane! What if they try to shoot us with a, a ray gun or something?"

"George, George, George. There is only one guy, and from what I heard from the person he chatted with the worst he has is a dart gun."
"Well that significantly increases our chances. And how long have you been conscious?"

"Since we took off on the first leg."
". . . Wow. Well, did you hear anything on what they plan to do next?"

"As far as details went, we're going back to Iceland. Some guys will take us somewhere else from there."
"But are they planning anything? Human trafficking, ransom, experimentation?"

"Eh, the gal said we were done being tested on, and even though I heard I wasn't sure what they meant."
"Which was?"

"Well, after calling you 'four-eyes' they then labeled you as a wildcard. Bad and Dream are something they called a 'Shalaway'? Shal-wah? Something like that. And apparently I inspired them to cause freaking genetic mutations to me. What struck me odd was that the guy piloting the plane was freaked out by Bad being a Shalla. Shallawa, that's it."
"What of the rest of us? What was the pilot's reaction?"

"Disbelief, especially when the employer called Dream an albino."
"I don't believe it either."

Almost summoned, a groan came from the streamer in front of Sapnap as he leaned his head back against the seat. Halo across the isle had started to show more movement from what the two behind could see.

"I'm planning on getting out once we take off on the next leg. Then when the pilot lands the plane, we only have a short swim or so to the coast of Iceland then we're free."

"What plane?" A tired voice followed by a yawn came from in front of George, marking the official conscious state of the third hunter.

"Bad! Your up!" "George, we can do it right now."

Just as the words left Sapnap's tongue, the plane began to descend and throwing that option out into the still stormy sky. "Welp. Guess next flight it is."

Plane on the ground and refueled, the drowsiness finally almost gone from the cabin, and the situation explained to Bad and a half-functioning Dream, the pilot showed his face to the crew. Coming up to Sap first, the man's chisled face showed little emotion.

"You know the drill- need up?"

The ravenett shook his head, having only gotten up two stops beforehand.

"Rest of ya, need a bathroom break or anything?"

. . .

Not getting much of a reply, the captain shrugged and turned back up to the cockpit.
"Suit yourselves. You only got one more chance after this till the lights go out." He replied in monotone, his wig askew as he headed down the narrow walkway.

The roar of the plane engines set vibrations through the cabin, a small jerk as the wheels were set in motion. The familiar push against the seat and the growing roar of the engines as rain continued to pound on the windows.

With a few pops of the ears, they were airborne.

"Everyone! Now!"

George leaned his seat back, moving quickly as they only had about 15 minutes or so till the plane landed again. If one of them was still trapped, the chances of overpowering the pilot was significantly reduced.
Sliding down the seat, George felt the smooth band go over his head.

Sapnap mirrored him, already bending over to gnaw on the clasps holding the smaller loops in place. George did the same, the rush real as Bad and Dream were waiting on one of them to get loose.

Why is this clasp so annoying?

Despite the clasp being a simple click buckle that was easy to open with fingers, the position and lack of phalanges made the task challenging.

([This down below was by far the weirdest part for me to write. I don't know why])

After 7 minutes of yanking, biting, and gnawing, George's clasp finally came free.
"YEESS!!"
He cried out, raising his arm up high.
"Woo!"
"C'mon George!"
"Hurry up!"

The rest came much quickly now that an arm was free.

As George stood up in the aisle, Sapnap had finally got an arm loose. With a wave-off from the ravenette, the Brit moved up to Dream.
His friend greeted him with a joy-filled smile, giving as best of a hug as he could once a clasp got loose.

"Let's get you out of there."
"Did you think I wanted to stay?"
With a small scoff, the Brit moved over to work on the largest strap.

Sapnap went past George, now free of his own accord.
"Sapnap, how did the chest one come off?"
The brunette asked, not finding an obvious answer.

"Oh, just a sec."
Bad joined the group shortly after, Sap moving back into his own row to aid George. With a sharp tug back and squeezing the Floridian against the seat, the belt loosened tenfold.

"Did you have to do it so hard?" Dream asked, bending over to work on the last two by his feet.

"Well it's not everyday I can do that."

George couldn't see Dream's face, but he could hear the small scoff.

The fourth and final Muffinteer up, the plane had reached it's next destination. With a bumpy descent, sitting back down not only looked safer, but smarter.

([And now the writing gets easier])

With a rough landing on the small runway, all that was left was a small skip across the waves then they were home free.

Not waiting for the engines to calm down, the pilot opened the door separating the two areas of the plane. Small black box in hand, the gruff man walked down the aisle.

"The storm's getting worse, so if you need up make it quick." He grumbled, not looking up as he neared the front rows. Silence was his answer.

"Good to stay? Even better. Let's start with you."
Pulling out a labeled syring filled with forest green-tinted fluid, the man turned to Dream. He hadn't even realized that the straps on all of them were missing before Bad launched himself onto the pilot's back. Shooting up, Dream and Sapnap aided best they could while unintentionally trapping George in his row.

Wig on the floor and Dream trying to gain control of the needle, Sapnap was busy keeping the pilot's face distracted with as many fists per minute he could muster. Bad got pushed back into his row, but thankfully taking the black box with him.

"This could have gone so much easier."
George heard as he took the box from Halo, wanting to keep it from the pilot's grasp. The small black container pressed close to his chest, the Brit watched as the pilot was able to stop one of Sapnap's hits mid swing. Along with that, the man's bald scalp had turned a pale purple, not to mention he was gaining the upper hand with the needle.

With a sharp kick, Sapnap was sent to the floor, Bad still trying to aid the domination of the syringe. With one freaky purple hand free, the pilot grabbed Bad by the hood of his jacket and threw him over, nearly taking down Dream in the process.

Staying upright, George could see from where he was that Dream's arm had turned a ghostly white. While seeming to lose the bone support, Dream also was able to push back against the now beaked pilot.

"Ah Core-Eaters. Of course they made one of those."

Panic fueled the pilot as the Muffinteer gained another hand in battle. Arm splitting, in, two, one of the halves coiled around the boneless arm as the other wrestled the syringe out of the now clawed hand. Dream's new fangs were bared as the rest of his facial features faded to simple paper white. The only areas that weren't white, turning black instead, were his eyes and mouth.

What did they DO to us!?

George watched in terror when the other arm split, the now long tentacle coiling around Sapnap's throat.
"Get away from him!" George set the box on the seat.
The Brit was just ready to grapple with the one constricting Sap's windpipe as another coiled around his arm, overpowering the Brit.

George noticed too late that the legs had both split as well, making the pilot have a total of 8 arms.
Scratch that.
7 as Dream sliced off one aimed for Bad.

"Leave them ALONE!"
The now white bladed hand made a deadly arch, piercing the pilot's throat.

Gasping for air, the tentacles went limp as the pilot fell to the floor. In a scramble, the four moved up a few rows away from the body.
"I-I, I killed him."
Dream was shaking, his skin getting back some of the healthy pink and red tones (although pale, but still a better alt. than what it was before)  as the ghost white receded. The pilot's blood stained his hand, and now the car-

Nope. Not gonna look. We can deal about this later.

Out of instinct, George gave the shooketh American a hug, which at least seemed to calm the tremors. In a way George was glad Dream still had his hoodie on, as it prevented contact with the slime-like surface beneath.

The ball of squish began to harden to levels normal for a human body as more and more weight was put onto the midget.
"Sit him down, the guy was able to get that stuff in the needle into his neck." Bad demanded, having been the only one to see the action clearly.

"Did he get the full dose?" Sap asked, kinda out of helping range due to the space of the plane.
"No. But a lot of it."

Dream slumped in the seat, already mostly out of it.
"Well. We can still carry him."

George's plan was cut off with a small 'ack' from his Texan friend.

"You guys really are stupid mainlanders."

Their plan had failed.

(It is done! And no, the author did not panic on deciding on what to make George and instead made him a wildcard to post-pone this problem to a later chapter. But they would like to hear what you guys think she'll have George be, and she defiantly would not steal the idea she likes the most.

And who's the dialogue king/queen?
Not my bro, sistas, or me! I won't lie; the talking took up a lot of the word count. Right now it's sitting at around: 4707, so expect the next chapter to be shorter.

But seriously- if you have any theories or guesses on what the other three are, don't be afraid to chuck them at my sister's face. Or me for that matter.

Oh, and while I have a few more seconds;

Be ready for some min———-

*ERROR: Speaker no longer found*
*Closing Communication Pathway*