Angel Unchained (2021)

Horatio walked down the chlorine bathed hallways, all of it stark white and a sickening kind of clean that didn’t sit right with him. He was just dismissed from an important board meeting that had him as the center of attention. It was the VURN Committee, the highest of the high, and they summoned Horatio of all people to meet them in person. It only made him feel more sick, unsure of what the future held for him.

Three weeks ago he had begun losing his vision. Blurry splotches came creeping up along the corners of his vision that no amount of rubbing and resting could fix. After days of concerns, a visit to the doctors and the optometrist confirmed his worst fears.

Apparently, he had this exceedingly rare eye disease where the nerves in his eyes and optic nerve were deteriorating. The iris in his eyes were also deformed. He couldn’t recall abusing his eyesight in any shape or form, aside from the occasional internet article and video games. There was nothing he could ever recall doing that made his eyes the way they were now. And there was nothing he could do about them now.

Not all hope was lost. That was why VURN called Horatio up to their meeting. When they found out about his condition, they wanted to provide him with an offer in-light of his deteriorating eyesight. “Take care of 004 and we will prepare the necessary procedures to repair your eyes.”

It seemed like too good an offer. He had no doubt that VURN was medically advanced enough to repair his eyes, given they were America’s top underground research facility. It was a matter of if he was worth of VURN’s funds and resources. Horatio was told by multiple doctors and surgeons that his disease was irreversible and incurable and that he would be legally blind in a few months time. They recommended that he signed up for federal disability aid while he could still see. He figured that if that’s the case, he should take whatever opportunity he can. There wasn’t much else to lose.

The main issue was that if took up the offer, he had to care for 004. 004 was a notorious experiment in the facility for having the ability to alter and manipulate the nerve cells and the energy in the person’s brain to control their every thought and move. The victim is rendered helpless, and they are controlled by 004 to do their own bidding. 004 was also a public nuisance, not only tricky to care for but also really really annoying. If you have low tolerance for annoying people, 004 was not your person.

004 has the tendency to recite human poetry and philosophical mantras. Some of their ramblings cited big shots like Socrates, Aristotle and even playwrights such as Shakespeare and Sophocles. Who knows where they learned it from. They were born and raised in the lab. They probably have never seen a book in their entire lifetime.

One thing to mention is that 004 can only control people using direct eye to eye contact. Look them in the eyes and your mind is theirs for the taking. Remove the eyes and he’s rendered useless. That’s where Horatio came in.

Although it hasn’t been tested, Horatio’s partial blindness could be an asset. With no eyes to peer into his mind, he is advantaged against 004, something that VURN hoped to capitalize on. If partial blindness was the key to cheating 004’s mind games, they were going to abuse the system. They even went as far as to increase Horatio’s pay raise as extra incentive to take the job. Horatio couldn’t tell if they were eager because this was a new ground-breaking idea and he was going to be the center of it all, or because they finally have a scapegoat to dump their annoying, blind poet onto.

Regardless, Horatio was not excited. Tomorrow, he was going to be put into training to deal with 004 and he was bracing himself for the moment.

_______

“We will be approaching 004’s containment unit in a moment. Feel free to ask me any final questions before you will be left alone with the subject.” A woman in dark glasses and a clipboard at hand walks Horatio down the hallway where 004 was supposed to be contained. Horatio squints off to the side, feeling his stomach twist in grim anticipation. With the opportunity now presented to him, he figured he should get out the questions that had been haunting him since the day 004 was assigned to him.

“This never was disclosed to me because my instructors were dodgy with my inquiries. What exactly will happen to me if 004 does manage to brainwash me and I end up doing something bad?” The instructor went silent, continuing her heeled march down the foreboding hallway. If Horatio wasn’t in danger, the answer would have been immediate, but her silence was just long enough to make the knots in his stomach twist tighter. “Best case scenario, you are mentally unscathed and you will only need a little bit of rehab and a few check ups with a psychiatrist.”

“And the worst case scenario?” Horatio suggested hesitantly, feeling bile slither up his throat. The best case scenario did not sound promising. He braced himself for the reply.

“Worst case scenario, 004 rewrites your memories and moral compass completely, turns you against us, and you become too far off the deep end that we would either have to put you down or register you to an asylum.” The answer only made Horatio’s senses fall numb, his fears floating away yet clinging too close to his thoughts for comfort. “Well if I’m going to lose my vision, certainly things can’t get worse than this.”

The instructor remained silently and continued with her long, stiff stride. The two of them eventually came upon an isolated vault with two armed guards with special eye-wear on their face. They both guarded the door and didn’t acknowledge me or the instructor as we made out pitstop. On a wall nearby, a thick opaque glass revealed the contents that was being protected in the vault.

Bathed under a bright, sinister spotlight, there sat 004; strapped down to a metal chair in every uncomfortable way the lab could think of. Horatio swallows, wondering if the insanely human-like creature was that dangerous enough to be strapped down like a pyschotic murderer ready to pounce upon release. He tried not to think about it too much. After all, the creature recited the works of Aristotle. It would know better than to commit any insidious crimes against Horatio or his fellow coworkers.

As Horatio peered into the glass to get a better look at the creature, he noticed it had pale, ghostly skin that he knew that the bright light in the room was not causing. Draping pearlescent hair falls gracefully from the creature’s shoulders like a silver waterfall. Form and figure alone, Horatio could have mistaken the captive creature for an angel. A nagging thought reminded him that he knew better than that and tried to ignore the angelic comparison and it’s graceful looks.

“Are you ready Mr. Ramirez?” The instructor asks, more out of professional custom rather than any reassuring comfort. The guards stationed at the door were posed at the vault’s heavy rotary wheel, prepared to crack open the safe at her command. Horatio nods and watches as the heavy metal door is pried open, its hinges creaking and groaning. The door scrapes at the floor as inches of that foreboding light crawled against the floors and walls, beckoning for Horatio to step inside.

He did what he was assigned to do and stepped inside the prison-like room. Slowly, he approached the strapped down creature, hesitant at how it would react. It opened its mouth to speak, a soft breathy voice fluttering out of his mouth like a winded melody. It’s voice was so pleasant on the ears that Horatio only listened on, feeling his words fail.

“The answer you seek is farther than the reach of your hands. You march down towards uncharted fear, gripping the bouquet of death. A grave unfinished yet a grave unstarted. Has your sight blinded you as far as your feet or are you treading in bliss?” 004 crows, a smile of unreadable intention curling on his rosy lips.

Horatio raised an eyebrow in acknowledgment but decided not to answer, trying to get his introduction out of the way without finding out more than he wanted too. “I’m your new caretaker. Try all you want, I won’t break.”

“May I get a name? Or would you prefer Caretaker as your alias?” The creature tilts its head to the side innocently, silver hair obscuring their face.

“Horatio,” I say sternly. “Call me Horatio. Nothing else.”

“Horatio. Loyal friend of Hamlet. Known to be Hamlet’s eyes due to his excellent foresight.” The creature continues to exult, swaying its head gracefully like a leaf in the wind. Horatio was going to have to get used to the constant head movement since it was its only other way to express itself.

Horatio swallows thickly, not having put the pieces behind the original meaning of his name. It was ironic. Incredibly ironic. In a way, it felt like God was mocking him, maybe even punishing him and 004 was the angel that bore him foul news. Do not be afraid headass. He was afraid, but not as much afraid as he was annoyed. “So. I’m told I have to be acquainted with your behaviour so that I can optimize my care for you in the future. If you must, feel free to talk. Or don’t. I would prefer it that way honestly.”

“Well, are you going to care for me honestly or become like the rest of them?”

The rest of them? Horatio thought. It wouldn't be a surprise to him if there were others before him that bit the dust or got tangled up in 004’s hypnosis. Horatio knew that he was only destined to become next in the long line of failures. It was only a matter of when. “I will not fail VURN. I won’t.”

“I have hopes for you. You sound nicer than the others before you.”

Horatio took his seat at an empty metal table, its surface was dented and the metal bulged inwards. This was going to be where he would sit while he overseered the chained angel. Judging from his seat and the condition of the table, someone was probably attacked here. Or the table was thrown around a bit.

“Has anyone mistreated you during their time here?” Horatio asks, tracing a dent on the corner of the table. He wondered if the battered furniture was a direct result of someone upsetting 004, or someone getting in the way of 004’s escape.

“I wouldn’t say mistreated. More like they were poisoned. Weak-willed.” 004 says, a lilt in their voice. Despite me being on the side of the room, they still turned their head towards me. Their blindfolded eyes looked directly at mine.

“Weak willed?”

“Too easy to enter, consume and CONTROL.” A wicked toothy grin widens on their angelic face and Horatio gulps. He attempted to conceal his concern, even if 004 seemed to be all-seeing despite the blindfold.

“But~ I doubt you’re like the rest of them. I like you. I want to keep you around as much as possible.” The creature says calmly. Horatio took that as a compliment, considering he did want to stay alive as much as possible. But he wondered if he truly was spared from the creature’s potential wrath, or was he nothing more but a prey being knocked around by its predator.

___________

“You know, I could always read the literature you ever so graciously abridge for me.” Horatio crosses his arms and sighs. He was tired of listening to Lazarus recite The Cask of Amontillado for the third time that month. It was a little insightful at first and maybe Horatio could use the impromptu literature class to kill time. But over the course of his time spent with Lazarus, he learned that he loved starting from the top and repeating some of his favorite stories. It was no surprise that of all of the Allan Poe stories, The Cask of Amontillado was a personal favorite to Lazarus.

“What’s the fun in that? Some people would prefer an audio learning experience. Why must you repeat the story to me if I already know it by memory?” Lazarus asks. “Plus, it’s not like your position is any better anyways.”

“Have you ever considered that some people actually like reading?” Horatio puts the question in Lazarus’ head and he thinks about it.

“Well you never struck me as the type of person to read. Considering…” Lazarus trailed off and Horatio stared at him blankly.

“I am not that blind yet. I can still very much see and I can see the bullshit on your face.”

“People have said I’m pretty,” Lazarus says, a little sing-song to his voice. How could he even tell? He looked like a dying pale rose withering behind locked iron vaults for a crime consisting of breathing and existing.

Horatio rolled his eyes, although aware that he was complicit in the forced captivity of his slavery. “To be honest, you’re pretty average. There are a lot more gorgeous people in the overworld. Not that you would know that.”

Lazarus quickly fell silent, a scowl-like frown forming on his porcelain face. He circles back to the original topic at hand to further evade his contempt. “So, you like reading?”

Humoring him, Horatio answered honestly. It wasn’t everyday that people bothered to ask about his interests. “I love reading. I’ve been reading for as long as I can remember. I got in trouble in kindergarten for being able to recall the entire plot of To Kill a Mockingbird, all of the gritty parts too. How ironic is that now, huh? In middleschool, I read the entirety of the unabridged version of Les Miserables.”

“What is a Les Miserables?” Lazarus asks curiously, even nailing the pronunciation. If he could recite poetry and short stories, I would’ve assumed he would know about classical literature like Les Mis and To Kill a Mockingbird.

“It’s like this crazy long book about a criminal escaping the french revolution and adopting the kid of the mom he murdered. Some guy tries to hunt him down for being a part of the revolution. There's stuff about the waterloo, the sewers, the homoromantic subtext, blah blah blah. It’s definitely something.”

“Could you read that to me?”

“We will be here all day if that's what you want.” Horatio groaned.

Lazarus didn’t reply immediately to that comment specifically but that did remind him of how small in scale Horatio spent his time with him. Deep down, he really did wish he could stay with Horatio all day. As annoyed as he often was, he enjoyed his company. Of the five hours of the day Lazarus could spend with him, he loved those five hours the most. “Come on. I’m bored here. It is not like you have anything better to do.”

“It’s not like I can just poof a book into my hands you know. I’m not telekinetic or whatever.”

“Then tomorrow. Read me a book.”

Although Horatio internally rolled his eyes at how demanding Lazarus was, he wasn’t all that pressed about it. What’s the harm in not depriving him of some classic literature? “Fine. I’ll get a book tomorrow. One more reason to drop by the library tomorrow.”

“Thank you Horatio.” Lazarus says softly, his name said in a quiet, pleasant hush.

“It’s weird hearing you say my name like that.” Horatio commented. He wasn’t exactly complaining, but after being stuck in Lazarus’ room for five hours everyday for six days a week, filtering out his opinions has been increasingly harder.

“Then what do you suggest I should refer to you as? Sir? Mister? Babe-?”

“Horatio was fine.” He snaps.

Lazarus lets out a soft, silky laugh that was almost music to the ears. “Oh well.”

________

“And what will you be checking out this time, mister?” An elderly woman in round glasses and an oversized cardigan asks with a wrinkled smile. Horatio grins awkwardly as he pushes his new stack of books towards the librarian. Apparently he had been showing up more and more to the point that the library staff had begun recognizing him.

“Er- just anything that seemed good. And long.” Horatio grins. “Anything to keep me busy.”

“I see. If you need any recommendations, I have a good collection of some real books with bindings as thick as my palm. That for sure will keep you busy!” She laughs out and scans the books one by one. After handing in his library card, he walks out with his new tower of literature. Admittedly, these books were more for Lazarus than they were for himself but he was benefiting from the extra reading. If he was destined to go blind, he figured he should expand his visual lexicon. Who knew that something beneficial would come from their relationship.

As he was walking down the sidewalk, avoiding city bustle and distracted pedestrians trying to get to work, there was a slight rumbling that made everyone freeze around them. At first, he assumed it was something in the distance that collapsed, but as the concrete ground swayed beneath him in rocking tidal waves of movement, he realized that wasn’t the case. “An earthquake?”

The rumbling fell silent and nothing followed afterwards. The quick moment of shock quickly dissipated from everyone and they continued walking on like it was nothing. Horatio was guilty of this too, shrugging his shoulders like it was nothing and making his way to the facility.

Twenty minutes later when he arrived, the top floor levels were normal, proceeding work as usual. They were the pharmaceutical and legal branch of the facility. They had no time to spare to interest themselves in petty earthquakes. As Horatio descended to the lower levels where all the experiments were kept, everyone was drowning in chaos. Guards and soldiers raced down to different sections of the hallways while other attending assistants and scientists were scrambling for ideas and potential tranquilizers. Horatio stood there, frozen in the chaos until he overheard a pair of scientists walk by with their eyes glued to their clipboards. “There’s no way we can calm 001 down in her current state. She’ll burn us to a crisp. Damn! If only 000RIGIN had not shaken the facility. And here I thought today was going to be peaceful.”

So that was what the earthquake from earlier was.

Horatio dropped his books and immediately bolted down the neighboring flight of stairs. He rushed down to the floor where Lazarus was being kept and scrambled to the vault. Everytime 000RIGIN awoke, even for just a minute and caused her waves of small-scale earthquakes, they were enough to send all of the experiments in the lab into a delirious, crazy state. There were records of their brain and chemical scans reaching extreme levels of fear, something they couldn’t scientifically explain. All they knew was that 000RIGIN was linked to it somehow.

As Horatio finally gets to the end of the hall where the vault was kept, a small crowd of scientists stand fearfully outside. Some of the guards were fully equipped with tranquilizers and special headwear. They all turn to him, scrambling to tell him of 004’s condition.

“Mr. Ramierez! Oh my god you’re here! You can’t go inside the vault! 004 is freaking out!” A scientist says. Horatio turns to the glass wall and peers inside, watching horrified as Lazarus writhes violently in his straitjacket, desperately trying to rip himself out of his chair. His feet clawed into the floor and he threw his head around so many times that Horatio was terrified that he might accidentally break his neck. This wasn’t an escape attempt to fulfill his own greed, but rather a cry for genuine survival.

“It’s all the more reason that I need to go in there and calm him down!” A desperate shout erupts as Horatio tries to push open the vault, only for the tower of guards to come and block his way. “He’s our responsibility! We must take care of him!”

“It’s not safe!” The scientist justifies. “004’s blindfold slipped off his face during its wild movements. If you go in there and it looks at you, you could get infected.”

Horatio stares at her hard before signalling the guards to override the scientist's orders and open the vault door. “I am replaceable. You can always find more guys like me to take my place. Right now, I need to calm Lazarus.”

The vault door squeals open and Lazarus doesn’t stop his hysterical cries and shouts. He swings his neck around violently in any poor attempt to break the chains, get out of the straitjacket and flee. Horatio ran up to the deranged man, keeping his distance as he outstretched his arms and placed them on Lazarus’ shoulders. “Lazarus! Lazarus! Calm yourself! It’s over! It’s over, you mustn’t injure yourself.”

But Lazarus kept jerking his body around the chair, not even stopping once to look at Horatio. If his blindfold was off and his first thought wasn’t to hypnotize him, then Horatio knew that this new instilled fear was absolute and fatal. All he did was rave, sob and scream on and on until his lungs were weezing underneath the tight jacket. “M-Mother… Mother… oh god spare me. Spare me. GOD. SPARE ME! SAVE ME. SAVE ME.”

For the first time since Horatio has met Lazarus, that was the first time he’s ever seen him scream. It was blood curdling and a loud painful shrill. Overwhelmed at the noise, Horatio grabbed Lazarus by the head with both hands and slammed his forehead against his. A startled yelp of pain escapes Lazarus but his movements still. Horatio kept his hands on Lazarus’ face, softening his hold and cupping his moist cheeks. He continued to keep his forehead pressed against Lazarus’.

They stay like this for a minute, not a single sound could be heard except the exasperated breathing coming from Lazarus. Lazarus finally looks up at the strange sensation on his bare forehead, his face soaked in tears and sweat. He stares into the pale eyes of Horatio and studies his complexion between lingering tears and strained breaths. Lazarus saw dark wavy curls, a skintone of unusual dark, mahogany, faint sideburns and a pair of large glasses that barely reflected the void in Lazarus’ eyes.

“I-I can see you.” Lazarus whimpers out. Horatio pulls away to look at the strapped angel beneath him. Now, Lazarus’ hair didn’t obscure his face. His blindfold hung loosely around his neck. Horatio saw Lazarus’ eyes for the first time. The supposed eyes that were the bringer of death for his previous predecessors. The sclera of his eyes were an inky vantablack that reflected no light. His iris was a glassy white and his eyelids were laced with long, snow white eyelashes. If Horatio didn’t know any better, he would’ve called them beautiful. Who knew that this was Lazarus’ weapon of destruction.

“I can see you too.” Horatio whispered, wiping his thumbs gently beneath Lazarus’ eyes to wipe away the trailing residue of his tears. “Sorry for hitting you.”

“I couldn’t care less. Y-You can see me, and I can see you. Nothing bad is happening.” Lazarus says in a hushed voice, almost breathless. He couldn’t tear his eyes away at his caretaker, the same guy who washed him, fed him and read books out loud to entertain him. The mental image in his head of what he thought Horatio looked like didn’t even come close to the real thing. And to that, he was amazed.

The scientists observing the interactions from behind the looking glass were scribbling in their notes furiously. The guards on watch stared in awe too, all of them wondering how on earth Horatio was able to stare at an unblindfolded 004 for so long and not be hypnotized at this rate. After they run tests on Horatio to make sure he really wasn’t infected with 004’s hypnosis, they were prepared to share the breakthrough discovery with VURN. Horatio’s partial blindness allows him to look at 004 straight in the eyes without consequence, and something between their bond suggests that his vision won’t be the only useful asset to monopolize.

____________

The lab drowned in a sea of black, a darkness that even the spots in Horatio’s vision fell through the cracks. He was stuck frozen in the void of the warm, evil hallway. There was no air conditioning or any air systems online and the atmosphere began to feel thick and hot. Horatio cowered to the floor as the sound of baritone alarms exploded in his ears. He couldn’t see anything at all and his head pounded along with the rhythm of the siren. His brain was drowning in an endless barrage of noise and he couldn’t go up to the surface for a breather for that sweet relief of silence.

He had only one job and with his knowledge of the layout of the place, he scrambled to the elevator. “Lazarus…”

“CODE X14. CODE X14. This is not a drill. I repeat, this is not a drill. CODE X14, there has been a breach on floor 9. Evacuate all experiments to their temporary installments.” A voice on the intercom blasted. As if Horatio already wasn’t on edge, he stumbled onto the hallway wall across from him, searching in darkness for the elevator button. Once he found the button panel and pressed it, he heard a harmonious ring of the doors parting for him. He hugged the walls and carefully counted the rows of numbers and buttons on the panel. If only it had some indentations on the buttons, it would’ve made Horatio’s job easier. He was on one of the more unvisited floors, making it harder to ask for help and take him to 004’s floor. He was better than this. He wanted to prove that he wasn’t anything without his vision.

The elevator eerily hummed as the flickering light on top flashed a dangerous red, causing a small pounding headache behind Horatio’s eyes. He squints, trying to adjust to the varying gradients of pitch darkness and the bright red. The floor numbers on the elevator were almost unreadable.

When Horatio reached Lazarus’ floor, personnel were trying to transport research and invaluable testing equipment. What they neglected was the most important thing on that floor. Lazarus. Horatio pushes past the last ignorant scientist and bolts to the vault. His foot slides against a stray piece of fallen documents and falls straight to the floor, breaking his glasses in the process. As he flails to get back up on his feet, his hand slides against the floor, jamming a long piece of glass across his palm. He winces, but leaves it in as he opens the heavy vault door by himself.

Inside, Lazarus sat in his chair with a panicked look on his face. He was oblivious to what was going on and the lack of information only made him more worried.

“Horatio,” he sighed in relief, wriggling his hands, wrists and ankles. “Something must have happened. What is going on?”

“Lazarus,” Horatio breathes out from exhaustion, not being able to muster the air for any more words. His lungs were on fire and his body was numb with adrenaline. Horatio rushed over to the new blindfold locking mechanism that was placed on Lazarus’ head and fumbled with it helplessly. Ever since that incident where his blindfold fell off, the lab made sure to construct a new device that wouldn’t allow for that incident to occur ever again. This time, not only was the blindfold its own machine, but it was chained to the chair as well. That too was its own tedious locking device. “I-I don’t know if I’ll have time to move you to the wheelchair properly. The proper procedure would take forever and I don’t think we have enough time to spare- fuck-”

Lazarus sat silently, watching- or if anything- feeling him struggle horribly with the mechanism. A clammy finger slipped on the metal and the blood pouring down his palm didn’t help; eventually forcing him to incredulously wipe it down on his white lab coat and continue.

“Are you okay?” Lazarus asks, and Horatio feels impatience ballooning in his chest.

“What do you mean? Of course I’m fine. We need to get you out of here.”

“You’re blind.”

“What do you mean? Of course I’m blind-”

“You were left alone in the darkness with nothing but your faltering vision. No one came along to help you.”

Horatio didn’t say anything. His hands continued to slip on the chain’s locking mechanism and he could feel tears of frustration pricking at his useless eyes. Crying was pathetic. He already couldn’t see, why make himself feel worse by making himself look like garbage? Was he going to get fired? Was he going to lose his only chance at repairing his eyes and living a normal life?

At this point, Lazarus noticed Horatio’s struggle. When Horatio was able to succeed with the lock, the chain unclipped from Lazarus’ head gear. He sat perfectly still, his head pointed at Horatio. Horatio gently felt the outline of Lazarus’ body, murmuring a string of sorrys when he would flinch under the touch. He stood the restrained man up slowly, giving him time to readjust to standing up for the first time in forever.

“I will cooperate with you.” Lazarus says.

“What?”

“I will not try any funny stuff. Just take me to the secondary location so someone could handle my containment.” Lazarus was still and his legs were still adjusting to the weight of his own body, but something in the air made Horatio know that he wasn’t lying. For a brief moment of trust and desperation, he let a few bleary tears fall as he took Lazarus by the back and walked him out the door. Even if his hands were still restrained, he could’ve taken off running, but he didn’t. He remained by Horatio’s side the entire time. In stumbling blind unison, they each helped walk each other to their next location until they found a convenient, stray wheelchair that they borrowed.

After tediously getting back into the elevator and counting the elevator buttons for the right floor, they made their way down to the bunker far below the original lab. Once they reached the designated floor, they were greeted with a flurry of scientists rushing to help Horatio and apprehend Lazarus. As a medic assesses Horatio’s hand wound, he hears Lazarus get dragged away, mostly without struggle. He was left as a muddy, bloodied mess with the attending medic.

Before Lazarus was out or range completely, Horatio hears him spit at one of the apprehending guards, everyone gasping at the notion. More guards forcefully arrest him, pushing him away from the spit-covered guard.

“You should be ashamed of yourselves,” Lazarus growled, a hostility that Horatio has never heard from him before. “Do something about Horatio. Don’t leave him alone like that ever again.”