𝐋𝐎𝐂𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍|
— The Labyrinth Laboratory, Munich, Germany.
— May 1, 2015.

𝐇𝐄𝐑 𝐄𝐘𝐄𝐒 fluttered open, but they begged her to close them again. She fought the feeling as she regained function of her fingers and toes, wiggling each to make sure it was still attached. The numbness of sleep faded and was replaced by a fire coursing through her veins. She didn't even realize she was crying until she turned her head, peering through a film of tears.

Although blurred, the IV sticking in her right arm was enough to confirm that she was still in hell. The doctor was nowhere to be seen in the lab, and had failed to put her back in her cage, probably assuming that she would remain unconscious longer than she had.

The orange liquid running through the tube connected to her arm certainly looked like fire, but Crystal recognized it was the reason her head felt groggy, in fact it was probably numbing some of her pain. Slowly, she lifted her hands from the table and yanked the IV out of her arm. Although surprising that she wasn't restrained, she didn't overthink the observation as she sluggishly rose to her feet.

She sprinted through the open door, but her legs gave out the second she crossed the threshold. The movement had been performed too quickly for her mind to process, so as she rose to her feet a second time, she proceeded more carefully than before. Where speed failed, stealth would take over. She inched her way along the far wall until entering the next room.

She froze in a dazed stupor as her eyes widened in horror at the rows upon rows of creatures like herself, creatures that didn't belong in a world of cages. Although none shared her physical trait of wings, there was something odd or different about each that K.A.O.S. wisely feared, but mistakenly contained.

"Are you an angel?"

She whirled around, alarmed and now on the defensive as she raised her fists into the air. However, she took a breath of composure realizing that there was no immediate threat, simply another boy in a cage. He was too thin and pale to be considered healthy, and his cheeks had sunken into his face in a way that many men tried to achieve a chiseled look.

The boy coughed then repeated his question. "Are you an angel?"

Crystal slowly shook her head and a look of disappointment crossed the boy's face. He sighed, but it looked like his body might snap with the effort. "So I'm not dying?"

< Not yet. >

She held her tongue and shook her head again, unable to create a verbal response. It was odd to see someone in a situation worse than her own, and she'd thought that being torn apart and stitched together again was bad. But this boy, well he looked like his entire life force was gradually being sucked from his soul.

"That's too bad." The boy coughed again and slid to the ground of his cell, using the wall like a crutch. He cleared his throat and moved his overgrown black hair from his eyes. "I thought this nightmare might finally be over."

Crystal's eyes gravitated toward the keypad connected to the boy's cell. It was tempting to free him, to free all of them actually, but she had no idea what they were capable of or how they had ended up captured in the first place.

"What's your name?" The boy tilted his head, calling her attention away from her thoughts. She remained silent, but he saw through her walls. He nodded his head as if he understood. "You don't trust me... That's okay. We just met and I'm a strange kid locked up in a box. I understand."

"I should be going." It was the first thing she'd said, but the second time she'd disappointed him. For some reason, she felt like she had to explain herself. "I can't stay here."

"The guards could come back at any second," the boy agreed with a nod of his head as if encouraging her to leave. "You've got to take your chance. I understand."

Her feet remained locked into place and the two just stared at one another. As if he'd had plenty of practice, the boy knew exactly what to say to keep her in place. "I'm Justin by the way."

"Crystal."

"That's a pretty name." His tone was calm as if the conversation were happening casually out in a marketplace or at a family gathering rather than the cold, dark cell of a prison.

"How long have you been down here?" The layout had changed a lot since she'd escaped all those years ago, but she knew for a fact that most of the cells had been vacant ten years prior and this boy certainly hadn't been a prisoner then either.

"I think it was 2013 when my dad dropped me off," Justin explained, counting on his fingers. However, he stopped once his brow had knitted in confused concentration. "What year is it now?"

"I'd say 2015 at this point," Crystal replied. She wasn't certain, but she could remember the doctor doing the bare minimum to decorate the lab over the course of the holidays. Since she hadn't seen actual sunlight in ages, it was the only way she could keep track of the time. A confused look crossed her face, not because the boy had been there two years, but an entirely separate observation had made her ear twitch. "Your dad dropped you off?"

Justin nodded his head, confirming what she'd heard. "He said I was sick. Since he was busy with his company, he didn't have the time to take me to a bunch of different doctors. He said this doctor had been recommended over the others and I've been here ever since... man, two year. Depending on the month, I might just be seventeen."

"Happy birthday." The words were pretty much meaningless as they left Crystal's mouth, but it was the thought that counted. His story still didn't sit right. "So you were sick?"

Justin shrugged. "I'm not sure. The doc never said I had the flu or anything, just that there was something—I don't know—inhuman about me."

"Inhuman?" Crystal's brow knit together. "What does that mean?"

Justin shrugged again, an action she found annoying. "All I know is that my fingertips sparkle sometimes. I thought it was pretty cool at first too until I showed my dad and saw his face go white."

"You're... odd, Justin." The observation wasn't malicious, but it was the only way Crystal could put into words what she thought about the boy. It was clear he was in pain, dying from either starvation or torment, but he didn't have the same fire in his spirit that she did. It was like he'd given up and was content to just lie there in his cell, wasting away until he died. She pursed her lips as she added to her original comment. "But I'm odd too."

< Odd and alone... >

Her thoughts reminded her of her situation without the need to look around in the darkness. A split-second decision was made as her eyes glanced toward the keypad. She braced herself as she jammed her elbow into the mechanism. It sparked and fizzed before the cell unlocked and the energy field.

The boy's eyes widened, pleasantly surprised as he cautiously stepped outside the cell. He tilted his head as he skeptically took another step forward. "You set me free?"

She nodded her head, now certain about her decision. "Yeah... us oddballs have to stick together, right?"

Justin chuckled as he considered her implied proposition, but coughed as his lungs failed to handle the action. He cleared his throat then dry-swallowed as he offered her a friendly smile. "I'd like that, Crystal."

"Call me Crys." The words left her mouth before she'd even really thought about them. It was the first time she'd requested to be called by something other than her given name. Although still close enough, it was a start to breaking away from the identity associated with her nightmares.

"Crys." Justin repeated the name, taking a moment to let it linger on his tongue. He quickly nodded. "I like it."

"I do too." It was an odd thing to admit, but Justin didn't appear bothered.

She turned to leave, but he grabbed her arm and pointed toward the other cells. "What about the others?"

"I'm not sure we have time..." Her voice faded as her sight looked beyond the boy and narrowed in on the cages. She'd always hated the idea of being trapped, and to leave the others behind almost felt hypocritical. She sighed, but gave in with a curt nod. "You take that half and I'll take the other."

They split up and Crys quickly got to work. However, something inside her kept her from slamming her elbow into the first keypad. She tilted her head and her eyes squinted as if trying to recognize the woman in the cell that stared back at her. "Who are you?"

The woman's face remained neutral as she looked the girl up and down, thoroughly unimpressed. She wrinkled her nose and sneered. "I don't see why he thinks you're so special."

The woman blinked, drawing attention to her eyes that flickered between shades of purple and blue. She'd only ever seen eyes like those once before and she couldn't explain the feeling that told her they were one and the same. "You?"

"Me." The woman extended her hands as if putting on a show, now waiting for applause. "How was Philadelphia? Ever clean up your little problem?"

The girl was dragged back down into a moment of remorse. She hadn't been around to learn if the captain had ever found an antidote for his condition, nor could she make him a new one after the first had been lost. However, the fact that the woman implied she knew of this secret only confirmed her identity as the kind elderly lady that had rode on the bus beside her.

"You changed your hair." Crys noted the obvious even though it was more than just one minuscule feature that differed about the lady. For good measure, her tongue venomously added. "Same wrinkles though."

The woman, Moria if she remembered correctly, frowned and crossed her arms. "You think you're clever, don't you?"

"Remind me again who's not trapped behind an electrical field," Crys retorted snarkily.

Justin jogged over to her, out of breath, and his lungs entered another coughing spasm. Between breaths, he gasped, "Couldn't open... cells..." Huff, huff, huff. "Not strong... enough..." Huff, huff, huff. "Don't... know... password..."

"Take it easy," Crys recommended and insisted that the boy breathe. "I'll handle it."

Justin looked up from the ground, placing his hands on his knees a moment before gesturing toward the woman still contained in her cell. "New friend?" Three more pants and another cough.

Crystal shook her head while the woman recoiled toward the back corner of her cell. "What are you doing with that demon spawn?"

"Demon spawn?" Crys scoffed as she glanced over at the wheezing boy, who had probably broken his elbow trying to open the cells. His bone stuck out at a weird angle that he didn't seem to notice, but was nauseating for Crys to look at.

"What's the meaning of this, Dr. Jones?" Adrian Wren entered the room. The boy immediately cowered behind Crys as a small whimper escaped his mouth. She raised an eyebrow, unimpressed by the stiff man in a fancy suit. The feeling only increased as he took a step backward the second he realized that some of the prisoners had escaped their cages.

However, Crys felt the same desire to hide as Dr. Jones entered the room. The sick grin on his face proved he was more amused by the situation than frightened by it. The doctor chuckled and dismissed Wren's initial concern. "Nothing to worry about. There's nowhere for them to go, and the problem will be amended right away."

She could hear the boy's breath grow heavier as if seconds away from a full-blown panic attack. However, the moment never came; instead, it was like he'd been struck by a tremendous ball of courage as he sprinted past her toward Wren. However, like everything else, the action proved too much for his weak legs; his knees buckled and he collapsed at the man's feet. The man's nose wrinkled and he turned his face away in disgust as if the boy were diseased.

A squadron of guards, whose identities were concealed by the armor they wore, rushed into the room carrying stun batons meant to subdue the immediate threats. The boy clawed at the man's pant leg while trying to stand as if begging him to look down at him. Crys couldn't understand why he hadn't tried to kill the man yet, until the boy's voice rasped between the coughs, gasps for breath, and the tears falling down his face.

"Father..."

The color faded from Crys's face as her eyes darted between father and son, chastising herself for not seeing the resemblance before. The witch in the cage beside her appeared smug as if saying: I told you so.

Wren turned his face further away as the boy was dragged by his arms back toward his cell. The doctor pinched the bridge of his nose as if dealing with idiots before proclaiming the obvious, "Wrong way, guys. That one's broken, find a new cell."

The guards complied as they dragged the boy toward a new cell. Once the boy had been contained, they turned their attention toward the winged girl; however, the doctor raised a single hand and dismissed them. Without a single word of instruction, he bowed and waved the girl forward.

Chills shot down her spine as she realized that all this time she could have escaped, and never did. She'd stayed out and even prolonged the moment by adding one more thing on top of another, disguised as false charity. Her head fell as she listened to the silent instruction that beckoned her to follow. The torment was unbearable; however, a small part of her wasn't sure what she'd do without it. It was like she was starting to believe that she actually deserved the cruelty she'd suffered through. In that moment it became abundantly clear why the doctor had become known as 'Osmosis' to his experiments: she'd been assimilated into the thought that she was a prisoner and there was no escape.

She'd been told that no one would miss her, that no one even noticed her absence. At first she didn't believe it, but sixth months of isolation felt even longer when torture was added into the picture. Seconds stretched to hours and days stretched to years. The doctor had finally done what many had assumed impossible, he'd trapped her spirit and clipped the angel's wings.