Pain is a powerful beast with razor claws that tear at mind and body. It nibbled on sanity with the teeth of madness and let the putrid breath of lunacy hang about the crippled mind. Slowly it consumes its prey, seemingly drawing out time between each breath, making it seem as if one has lived an eternity in its grasp while only seconds have passed in reality. It was when the claws of this beast dug into the soul, did one begin to beg for death. Iruka had no doubt reached this stage.

The liquid fire that had become his blood drove him mad. He's nails had become bloody stumps from clawing at his cell walls. His voice horse form yelling and mad rambles, his capturer's poison working through him. It was the type that did not kill but rather render the infected useless, harmless, nothing but a raging ball of madness. It was worse when mixed with illusions unable to tell the different between reality and dream. Friends became enemies, enemies became friends, and there were even times he had to fight them both. When his strength was spent, his torturers would come in and demand answers telling him that he'd be granted his death. There must have been some sanity left, for he would always close his mouth, sealing his voice and mind off. He could never speak of his mission that had gone so badly, never tell them of his failure, or they might try to hurt his home.

Home, what was home again? How long had it been since he'd seen it? Had it only be a day, a night, or a week? There was no time in this place. No windows or sounds of life outside the cell door by which to go on. It was as if he existed in a new place, one so different than the one before. It was a place full of pain and suffering, a place of sleeplessness and helplessness. He clawed at the wall again screaming for something, but he could no longer distinguish words from sounds. Except one sound that was as madding as the pain, the consent dripping of the walls. Water he'd always remind himself, as his attention turned on the opposite wall where the dripping could be heard the loudest. He stared at the gray barrier and then it begun to wrap taking some grisly shape, madness beginning to set in once again. As unholy eyes stared down at his cowering form, his back pressed flat against the other wall. The dripping sound came from nasty claws tinged red with blood, this monster he had come to call pain as it slowly drew over him and gnawed on him once again.

The screaming, it had started again, filling the darken halls of the old building. The milling men paused listening to the wounded sound of some poor animal. Just like always the screaming would die down and the black clothed beings would move toward the cage ready to do their jobs once again. It had only been a few weeks since the shinobi had been brought in, bloody and bruised from his fight with the ninjas of Rock. Eiji was one of the leaders of the interrogation department, he read over the reports again. This man was remarkable, after everything they had done, he still hadn't broken. But Eiji would not be deterred, there were several ways of getting what one wanted. Oooo he shivered at the prospects, there were several new toys of his that he wanted to try. He quickened his steps excitement taking over his insides and twisting them into tight little knots. Even better if what the man had said was true, then he'd be Eiji's play toy for a VERY long time. He licked his crooked teeth hungrily, beady eyes taking in the curl and bloody man before him.

It seemed this time the little chunin had tried to claw out his own eyes. Eiji chuckled and waited for the medics to finish their work. He waved everyone out as soon as they were done. Now it was just him and the little man. His brown eyes stared up dully at him, long brown hair fanned out over the reddish dirt that carpeted the cell. His clothes were simply scraps of cloth now barely hiding his more masculine parts. He tan skin was littered with bruises of varying color, his thin lips chapped. He was still slightly curled thin arms loosely held thin legs. The man knew what was to come next, "Come on little chunin, tell me where it is," he called sweetly even as he unrolled his large pouch on the silver stand. Wicked objects unfurled, unnaturally sparkling in the dim light. It occurred to him that a lesser man would have whimpered by now, but this one did not. "Come tell me something little chunin."

"Iruka," the answer startled Eiji slightly, up until this point the man had said very few words.

"Iruka?" he asked causally refusing to show his surprise as he pulled out an object that looked like a wine screw. A little bit of chakra caused tiny little pins to sprout from the screw as it wind around and around.

"Iruka is my name," Iruka's eyes never strayed from the wicked object. If he was afraid he didn't show it. "Figured if I tell you mine, you'd tell me yours."

"Fair enough. Eiji is my name," he answered easily, placing the demonic wine screw down and picking up another object, "Anything else?" He already knew the answer.

"Only that your name doesn't fit you," Iruka said tiredly he's voice sounding even worse than before.

"Oh and what would you call me?" Eiji asked deciding to start with a long blunt curve instrument. He added a little chakra and watch in fascination as it blossomed into a metallic flower. From its center sparks erupted until it lit up the metal petals turning them a rosy red. Oh he couldn't wait to see what this one did to the body.

"Aglaeca," he said.

Eiji smiled, "Oh I like that," he said hungrily as he stepped toward Iruka, "Oh I like that very much."