Prologue

The air is dry, filling the mans nostrils as he inhales what he hopes to be his last breaths. A stale sent is in the air, like that of aged cinnamon, like the smell of the dead. Four walls surround him, dark and cold like stone and covered with dust. A dull scraping can be heard from the other side of one. The sound of someone trying to escape it seems. But he knows there's no escaping out of this chamber, this hell.

For ten long years he has been tortured. Both mentally and physically he endured pains worse than any man could imagine. Never knowing when they would end, never knowing when the pain would finally stop and he could rest forever. It was only a matter of time though, when he would finally be free.

Time seemed to lag in the man's mind. How much longer would he have to wait? The answer came sooner than he expected as the sound of a metal lock clicked and the door opened to his cell. A bright light beamed through the entrance, his pupils dilating from not being used to anything but darkness for so long. He lay, as if unconscious, on the ground. Not daring to move in hopes that they think he is dead. Maybe they would give up on him then… maybe.

But he was wrong, they didn't seem to care if he was alive or not for they grabbed a hold of his arms and began dragging him across the ground and into the light outside. Bare skin scraping against the gritty surface, he cringed as the rocks beneath tore at his back and legs. His eyes couldn't focus, couldn't see what was around him. But he could feel the floor change from rock and dust to a polished clean surface of tile.

People could be heard moving around him, their muttering voices trailing off in the distance as they passed. He wondered what their life was like outside of here, outside of this life. How nice it must be to breathe fresh air outside of these walls. His eyes were beginning to focus now; he could see blurry shapes of the people dragging him, two men by the looks of it. The one on his left was slightly bigger than the other. He looked towards the direction he was coming from and saw another man walking behind them. A nightstick in his hands, clearly a security guard. Although what security they needed when he was in this state he couldn't guess. He barely had the strength to breathe let alone lift a finger. Ten years ago this would have seemed appropriate, but not now.

They stopped in front of a large gate made of what looked like steel, but he couldn't tell if it was steel or not since everything was white including the floor, walls, and ceiling. The man on his right let go of his wrist and walked up to a small box on the wall. He placed his hand on it and a green light emitted from it, scanning up and down three times before he removed his hand. The door slid open and he was once again being pulled across the floor.

The room they entered was dark, and once again his eyes had to focus to the lighting. But this time it came quicker. He knew what room he was in, he had visited it many times in the last ten years. This was the room where the questions were asked. Whether it be asking him or torturing him. It was also where the experiments were held to discover what questions about the human anatomy the doctors might have thought of. Simply out of curiosity they said. Yeah right.

The bigger of the two men grabbed a hold of his side and hoisted him onto his shoulder now. He walked a few paces and dropped him onto a table. It was freezing and he gasped as he felt his naked body sprout goose bumps all over. He knew what was going to happen this time. They were going to open him up again and poke around, just for fun. But they would first give him an injection that made him go insane and hallucinate. Seeing demons torturing him and angels dying by their hands. Why he always saw the same thing he didn't know, even less did he care. It was always the same nightmare and he always came back with a different cut on him, blood soaking his body.

They cuffed his wrists to the table, along with his ankles and a strap across his forehead to prevent spinal injury. The placed a metal clasp in his mouth to prevent him from biting his own tongue, they didn't want him to die, no that would ruin all the fun. He looked around and saw the doctors coming into the room, three of them all dressed in white. One of them was tall and wore a pair of black sun glasses. His hair was black and pulled back in a pony tail. He looked emotionless, feeling nothing. A man like that you could truly fear, for what can stop a man if he feels no pain, no remorse? Nothing.

The second man was slightly shorter and much skinnier. He had red curly hair and wore glasses as well, but these were to see better, not to look more intimidating. He had thin fingers and long nails that were horribly dirty. His teeth were chipped and cracked showing signs of decay. He walked stiffly as though one leg might be prosthetic.

The third man was short and rather chubby. He had squinty eyes and a fat nose. He was laughing as he came in the room, a high pitched squeal that couldn't be stood for much longer. He kept his hands clasped together, his fat fingers barely fitting around each other. He wore a strange ring on one hand that shimmered an emerald tint.

Following them were three more security guards, each one carrying a nightstick and looking around in a nervous way, and with good reason. Above them hung many tools which were made for cutting, breaking, tearing and bleeding. The room was completely silent except for the shuffle of the men's shoes against the floor and the hum of a generator nearby, although he couldn't see where it was since the only light there was came from a lamp above him and the light shining through the doorway.

The red haired doctor limped towards him now, he could see his blue eyes staring down at him, smell his foul breath as it pressed against his face. He lifted one long hand and stroked his chin as though lost in thought. " I can never get enough of it zero, no matter how much we probe and torture you, you never talk, never speak even a word.," he said, his voice was scratchy and dry, " and yet you've come so close to death, many times, and yet you haven't died. It's amazing, simply amazing. You're truly my greatest project ever." He stroked zero's long blonde hair and walked away towards the other doctors.

"Well we had better begin then shall we?" said the tallest doctor, he was looking at the shortest doctor and he nodded in agreement. He walked into the darkness and came out holding a syringe with fluid filled to the top.

"The usual dosage I'm assuming?" the short doctor asked, in a joking manner, " we don't want him to feel left out as we have our fun, I'm almost jealous, he gets to be even more entertained than us, screaming and crying like he does." He laughed his high pitched laugh and scuttled over to where Zero lay. "Don't worry, this won't hurt a bit, I'm sure your used to it actually, having been here all these years and what not." He jabbed the needle into the same hole where so many other needles had gone in before, he was positive that this was probably the same needle they had used many times, it seemed likely.

The effect was immediate, the room around him started hazing and soon it was swirling around, unable to tell what was what. He felt sick, his stomach lurched and he strained to break free of his bonds. Sweat was beginning to pour down his face, chest, and hands, everywhere. He began to shake in cold sweat and his chest began to feel heavy, like a hundred pounds sat on top of him. He cringed his teeth as he felt a knife penetrate his skin, dragging downwards and slicing open his abdomen. Hot blood poured down his sides and he began to cry in pain. He looked up and saw three demons their faces grey and grotesque. Twisted and unshapely as they stared down at him. But one of them looked different than the other two; he was hard to focus on. Like there was a constant change in the appearance in his face. But it remained slightly similar each time it shifted, grey and motionless with black eyes piercing through anything he looked at. They were the doctors he realized. He could see the doctors as demons, like the hallucination usually made him see them. He strained to focus but the pain in his stomach grew worse and worse as they prodded and poked with a variety of tools. He didn't know what they were searching for, didn't know why they persisted so much on him and insisted that they open him up every month. Like they had nothing better to do than stare at the insides of the same man over and over again. What were they looking for? But his mind was wiped blank as he saw an angel fall beside them and whisper something into one of the doctor's ears. The doctor grinned and nodded his head towards the angel. She seemed to be crying but Zero couldn't see her face for it was covered by a white mask with two black holes where eyes would be. Red tears were falling from her face though and her chest was rising up and down in a sporadic motion.

She turned and was about to leave when suddenly she was ambushed by a flock of demons more hideous than what the doctors appeared to look like. They dragged her down and clawed at her, tearing flesh and cloth alike. Blood poured from her body and her scream filled the room. Seconds later she lay motionless in her own blood.

"It appears that were going to have to cut this session a little short," said the tallest doctor, "I have other things to attend to at the moment." He looked at the other two doctors and they nodded in agreement. They began stitching together where they had opened him up, and poured alcohol down the opening. Zero screamed in agony and tears streamed down his face.

"Come unstrap him and bring him back to his cell," the red haired doctor ordered the guards, a sound of disappointment in his voice. "And make sure he gets something to eat and drink before the day is over." He then turned and left to meet the other two doctors leaving the room. The guards walking towards him he heard their voices as though he were listening to them from a great distance.

"I'm beginning to hate this job," said one of the guards, "I'm tired of carrying this guy around all the time. I mean come on, how many times can you open a guy up hoping to find something that wasn't there before? Unless they're looking for different colored shit in him I don't see him having anything new anytime soon."

He had no idea how much Zero agreed with him.

"Hey don't complain, if you want out of this job go ahead and resign. But I seem to remember hearing about your wife and kids who were found having the disease. Me personally, I wouldn't want the industry finding out and you know that's exactly what's going to happen if you quit and take them out of protective care." The second guard seemed to relish in this piece of information.

"But it's not like he has the cure in him or anything!" the guard replied, a panicked note in his voice, they can't find anything in him now, or ever!" he began unstrapping Zero and grabbed a hold of his wrists and dragged him off of the table. "If he did have anything they would have found it by now, wouldn't they?" He gave a great heave as he began pulling Zero across the floor and out into the hallway towards his cell.

"Maybe there's more to it," replied the other guard, "maybe they aren't looking for a cure, maybe they're looking for something else, something different about him that separates him from us. Look at his history, I've been doing a little research and his data sheet shows him surviving multiple encounters with death. But he always pulled out of it."

It was true, he had come rather close to death, or so he thought, while under those experiments. But each time he was pushed back to where he was, like a hand holding him down while he was lifting. It didn't seem fair, that he couldn't die, how nice it would be to finally be at peace. But the question had passed though his mind once or twice; why hadn't he died?

"So what you're trying to say, is that you think he's special or something?" the first guard asked in a half mocking sort of way. "You're off your rocker man." He laughed but the second guard simply stared on. The third guard behind them tapped the first and gave him a look.

"Shut up, both of you, he's still conscious you know." The third guard said in a stern voice.

"Oh cram it," replied the first guard, "It's not like he can understand what we're saying right now, with that hallucinogen running through his system. He probably thinks he's off in la la land right now." He laughed again and this time the second guard joined him.

"Yeah I'm sure he's real happy right now, why don't you try taking some of that stuff and see how you feel," the third guard said, "I'm sure you'd love it."

"I think I'll pass," replied the first guard. But he didn't say anything else afterwards and the three guards finally reached the place where Zero's cell was. The third guard walked up to the door and pushed his hand against the small box to the side of it. The scanner went off and the door slid open. The guards dragged Zero's body in and dropped him on the dry floor, shutting the door behind him.

At once he broke down and began crying. He couldn't take it anymore. The pain, the hopelessness, all of it. He was going to remain here until he finally died and there was no escaping it. He had but nothing left but tears that fell to the dirt covered floor. Blood was dripping from his stomach and he didn't care, he wanted it to. He wanted to bleed out and never feel again. He reached down to his stomach and slid his fingers against the stitches. How easy it would be to pull them out, pull out the bit of wire that held him together like a puppet. A puppet disassembled and embarrassed for all to see, then put back together to do it all again.

His finger looped around the wire and he started to pull, but was interrupted by the strangest of things. A drop of water had fallen upon his brow. Its cold wet feeling on his face was so small but it felt like a miracle to him. Another fell and landed on his cheek. He stared up at the black nothingness and wondered what the world was like outside now. Wondered what was happening right now.

It was raining outside. He knew that much, and that little bit of information in the back of his head brought sanctuary to his mind. Sanctuary in knowing that a world still existed outside of these walls. A yearning and desire swept over him and filled his chest. A feeling he had not felt in so long. He wanted to break free now, more than ever. He wanted to feel the rain on his face and to hear the clash of thunder and lightning.

A voice could be heard next to him, the sound of a woman's voice, soft and beautiful. Her words filled his head and his heart leapt for joy. There was someone else in here with him! He hadn't spoken to anyone in over ten years and now in this very room someone sat in the same dark world he did.

"Hello?" he whispered to the darkness, his voice was cracked and strained, "Where are you? I can hear you, it's okay I promise I won't hurt you. Just please, talk to me, please…" he waited in the silence hoping to hear her voice again. But nothing replied, no sound.

And he heard it again, her voice somewhere in her room. It sounded as though she was crying. "It's okay," he whispered, it seemed like a lie though; this place was anything but okay.

"I'm sorry Zachary, I never meant for them to hurt you so much," the woman's voice replied, she was crying even harder now.

Somehow she knew his name; he had not heard it in ten years now, spoken by no one. And this woman suddenly knew his name. Even he had forgotten it over such a long time. He had forgotten many things…

She suddenly came into view, barely visible in the pitch black. It was the angel he had seen previously, but she didn't have wings anymore. She still donned her mask though, its pearly white color radiating in the darkness. Dark streaks were strewn down its cheeks where he assumed the bloody tears had fallen. She stepped closer to him, almost an inch away from his face and her hair brushed against his face as he lay unable to move. It smelled like flowers had.

"Who are you?" he asked.

"You'll know in time my love", she whispered, "but for now I'm going to help you. You were never meant to be locked up here, never meant to be given to these creatures. This hell is not where you belong; it wasn't a part of the deal made all those years ago. But they betrayed us, and you were given to them. I'm sorry Zachary, I'm so sorry…" a single tear fell on his cheek and he remembered briefly of the rain he had felt on his face a second ago, it wasn't rain. It was tears.

She leaned in closer to his face and whispered to him. He longed for her now, wanted to touch her feel her skin on his own. How long he had been deprived of love, deprived of life. "Everything is going to come back to you love, very soon I promise…" and she leaned closer and where her lips would have been, her mask touched his lips and she vanished. A ghost of a dying desire, nothing more it seemed. Gone as quickly as it had come.

"Don't go…" he whispered. And he began to cry.