The low hum of a ceiling fan did little to drown out the low grunting and hissing that escaped the teenage boy as his nails dug sharply into the mattress in front of him and tore the blood stained sheets there. The scent of pain still clung to the air – and it disturbed Samuel that he now knew the scent of pain and the sharp stinging odor of anguish. Like the pungent fumes that attacked his senses after sex, agony was overpowering.

Water began building in his eyes, distorting his view of the dry, cracked wall in front of him as he let out a loud angry curse only to feel another rip in his spine. The cycle was nothing compared to this. The transformation was at least monotonous after the first few times. The spine cracked and shifted, the skin thickened and grew black as the every hair follicle shifted and his hair grew quickly – this never changed. However, this pain was unstable. One moment it was shooting agony, the next a dull ache.

His senses warped, as did his perception of time and reality. He was jerked onto his side suddenly, and wasn't too sure whether he was looking at a large Burmese elephant or an oddly shaped Chest of Drawers. Either way...it was a rubbish distraction and did nothing to help him.

With his senses so twisted, it was difficult to tell how long he remained pinned to the bed, screaming out as his mind snapped then promptly folded in on itself, that he was unsure when it was exactly that he passed out. The creature that had trapped him hear, however, found himself vaguely aware that slowly pulling out the boy's spinal cord might have been taking his experiments too far. After all, these creatures were often all too empty. His heart was weak…was was his mind…he could be tossed aside now…Zexion had no use for weak hearts.

He pulled on his cloak slowly, smiling as darkness simply manipulated itself around him; making it impossible for the substance to engulf him. If he were to be engulfed, then where would he be? Marluxia would take over the organization through Sora…and he would be out of an excuse. It was not often that he ventured outside of orders – but in this case it was all too tempting. This room; this meaningless room in a particularly meaningless world meant absolutely nothing to him…but the man he'd just stripped of pride was something all together indescribable. Like the beast there was a darkness within him; a monster so unbearable that he could scarcely stand his own reflection. His heart, however…was strong.

Zexion turned from him, glancing around the dingy room in what appeared to be a complex of some kind. It was littered with bottles and packages of all kind; all of which smelled highly suspicious. His tongue flashed across his lips slowly as he turned to bow to the man who lay there. "Until we meet again…boy…" His voice came out softly; empty of any real emotion – as empty as this solid form he'd taken…

What was he?

Perhaps this man would be the one to tell him. He was but a few years older than himself…yet had the most boyish outlook on life. His optimism would shock even the keyblade bearer. Who knew? Perhaps he too could wield the key to light and darkness between those long splendid fingers that Zexion was sure women with hearts ached desperately for.

With one last, empty look, Zexion vanished into a pool of darkness, stepping out at Castle Oblivion…only to be greeted by the most pungent and unusual of scents. So…very…familiar…

…

"Axel…?"

Namine's voice was like a dull ache in Axel's ears, as he forced himself to remember yet again that he had no heart; and the 'emotion' he felt was naught but a vague memory of an emotion felt long ago, when he was whole. His voice came blunt and angry, flaring from violent lips as he turned his eyes on her in a flash. He felt terrible about manipulating something so young…and so much like him.

"Yes, Namine?" His eyes narrowed slightly on her, before glancing at Larxene. If only she wasn't in the room – he might be able to…

What was he thinking? How much had Roxas and Sora already affected him?

The young witch winced, her soft voice trickling like water. Her eyes were huge, and innocent – and Axel couldn't understand why…after everything Marluxia had already done to her. She trusted him…so openly…so vividly. And that trust was something that he didn't, and would never deserve.

She raised a small hand, and gestured for him to come near, glancing at Larxene with a look of suspicion on her face. Larxene made an annoyed clicking sound as though she might throw up at any moment before mouthing an irritable 'really!' at him. He shrugged his shoulders, leaning toward her and she leaned close. She whispered softly, her breath cool against his ear, making him close his eyes and he yearned to feel that which he would never feel…that which this witch might have the power to make them feel one day…

"I…I did what you said…"

"Good…and Marluxia…?"

"He…he's…" Her voice trailed off as she glanced toward the door before shuddering. He could see the small blond hairs on her arms rising in a trail of Goosebumps, and found himself becoming mildly aware of just how pretty she was. He shook himself. "I don't like him…"

What had Marluxia already done to her before his arrival?

Her face had lost what little color it already had – and it seemed as though he'd been slapped in the fact. He kissed her on the cheek and turned to face Larxene with a raised brow. "I got here a couple hours ago babe – so what the hell's happenin?"