In a secluded island off the coast of North America remained a lab. This lab was buried deep within the wildlife of the island, so that they would not be found out. The scientists here focus on experimenting on captured humans, creating mutants and hybrids. Most of the subjects were used as guards to protect the island or slaves sold off to dealers. These were categorized as 'failiures' in the eyes of the lead scientist with much expectation. The few that had surpassed these expectations were further experimented on, providing them with special abilities such as telekinesis or the ability to talk to animals. The subjects who fell in this category was given extreme tests ever so often. As a result most of them were severely injured or dead. Many tried to escape this mad place, but none succeeded. It was only around 4 years ago that a group of subjects, all in their teens, had outsmarted the scientists and escaped for freedom. This group has been living together in a secluded house on the opposite site of the country, fending for food, and protecting one another. Not a sight of scientists have been found since then...or so they thought. Krystal, 17 years of age, had woken up to the morning sun which shone on her face. Sluggishly, she got out of bed and made her way to the bathroom. Her straight reddish-brown hair had just reached her lower back, bangs covering her right eye. She wasn't too short or too tall, only reaching 5'4. Overall, she appeared to be a normal girl her age...if it wasn't for the wings on her back. Each feather was as dark as the night sky, resembling a raven of some sort. As Krystal finished brushing her hair, she trodded to her closet to change out of her plaid pajamas. She put on a black mini skirt with short shorts underneath. On top, she chose a simple grey t-shirt and her hoodie on top of that. She flew downstairs, hoping someone else was already awake to make breakfast.