Stein smirked. His tongue snaked out and he licked the blood from off his lip, enjoying the curl of disgust that the sight evoked from the man strapped to his operating table. It was amazing that the man was still alive, honestly. Stein didn't care though; he was quite pleased that the man had survived this long. If he was lucky the man would actually survive the next step of the process.

He checked the patient's restraints, carefully tightening the one that was holding his left foot. Somehow the man had managed to loosen it almost to the point of being able to slip a foot out. Stein chuckled. Selecting a scalpel he carefully sliced through the man's Achilles tendon, listening with pleasure as the man screamed out in agony.

The rise and fall of the man's chest fascinated the doctor more than the blood running from the fresh incision. He watched it as the man panted from the pain, counting the delicate raises of his chest, and each fall. Licking his lips again Stein moved to the man's other side, severing the other Achilles tendon, relishing the slight change in pitch that this scream had from the last.

But once again the rise and fall of the man's chest fascinated the doctor. Grinning again the doctor realized what his next course of action had to be. There was simply nothing else that could satisfy his curiosity right now.

He must see the patient's lungs in action. There, in front of his very eyes, inflating and deflating with each of the patient's breaths until the moment that they no longer moved and the patient was entirely still. Stein suddenly jerked, one hand rising to unsteadily turn the bolt in his head. Glazed eyes looked down at the man on the table.

"Senpai?"

"Stein, please." Spirit said quickly. "Untie the restraints. Let me go. While you're still you. You won't be able to live with yourself if you don't."

His hands shaking Stein undid the restraints on Spirit's hands. "Senpai… I'm… I'm sorry." He managed as he reached down to undo restraint he had just redone on Spirit's left foot. His eyes fell on the incision where he had severed the Achilles tendon and he felt the laughter bubbling up in his chest. Desperate he managed to undo the other restraint. Stein slid to the floor, his head titled back as the laughter finally bubbled out of his chest.

Spirit sat up, and then tried to stand. His legs gave away immediately, and he collapsed in a heap beside Stein, whimpering. Stein looked over at him, his eyes wide and vacant. Shaking hands reached inside the bloodstained lab coat and pulled out a pack of cigarettes and a lighter. Lighting the cigarette Stein took a deep drag before reaching up to turn the screw. A few seconds passed as Spirit desperately crawled towards salvation. Marie was outside. She would save him.

Spirit managed to pull himself up to a standing position, pushing on the lab doors, falling out of them and into the sitting area. Marie lay on the couch, her back to him, and her shoulder moving slightly in her sleep.

"M-Marie!" Spirit screamed at the top of his lungs. "Marie!" He renewed his crawling when he felt a presence hovering over him a second before flecks of ask fell before him.

"She won't hear you." The voice was low, as if that were a lie. "I make sure she never does. I don't want her disturbed. She's mine and I won't share her with anyone I bring in here. They're not allowed to see her. You're not allowed to see my angel, do you understand?" Hatred burned in the eyes that stared into Spirit's. "You'll never see her again!"

Spirit screamed as the scalpel descended into his right eye. Marie rolled slightly in her drug induced slumber, and the insane scientist stood and carefully pulled the blanket up around her shoulders. Spirit, mewling on the floor from the pain, missed this so out of character act of tenderness. His hand covering his injured eye, Spirit didn't even see Stein return until he felt the man grab his ankle, the cut above it screaming in pain as he was dragged back into the lab.

With the pain he was in, Spirit couldn't put up much of a fight as Stein restrained his limbs. He trembled in fear though as Stein traced incision marks on his chest. His good eye rolled back in his head as he felt Stein make the first incision, his scream ripped from his throat, all the previous cuts and injuries forgotten as the searing hot pain spread through his chest from the second incision.

He nearly passed out when he heard a cracking sound and felt his ribs being spread; he felt cool air where he never should. He screamed again, the awful feeling of air on his lungs making him want to vomit. Spirit hazarded a look down, and immediately wished that he hadn't. His eye focused on his split open chest and he could see his very heart pounding faster as the adrenaline rushed through his system.

He screamed again, and as he inhaled to let out the scream he felt something cold and sharp push its way into his left lung. The pain was sudden and instant, his scream cut short as his lung collapsed. Tears streamed from the Death Scythe's eyes.

Another incision and a fresh wave of pain overtook Spirit. He couldn't even tell where this one was. He could hear Stein's chuckle as the waves of pain kept coming. Finally he gave into the darkness. 'Maka… Papa's sorry. I'm so sorry I'm leaving you… I tried to come home, I did…' Darkness claimed him.

Stein looked down as the patient passed out and sighed. An idea formed, and the scientist smiled. Finding a suitable item first he came back, reflating the patient's lung, making sure it was functioning properly before removing about half of the length of the patient's ribs. A surgical drill, some screws, and the removal of now unnecessary skin left the doctor standing over him, admiring his newest experiment.

Lying on the table, breathing quietly, Spirit's chest was open for the world to see; a piece of clear plastic protecting his steadily beating heart and his inflating and deflating lungs. The scientist chuckled to himself. His patient had indeed survived the second stage of the experiment. Turning the screw in his head, Stein walked to the computer and began to document what he had done before the memory slipped away, a chuckle mixing with the smoke from his cigarette.

A/N: Ah, I feel better. I don't own Soul Eater.

Morbid Lialane is morbid, but utterly satisfied now.