Just to be safe, let's rate this beginning M ^-^ Thank you to every one who is reading my story! Please review! Enjoy Chapter 11: What the hell is going on?

"Mother fucker! God damn it! You stupid bitch! This isn't what you promised me! Fuck you! Fuck you and your god damn evil plans! You whore! Go die in a fucking hole! I'll fucking ki-"

"Would you shut up!? All your screaming's not going to change the fact that you voluntarily came here!"

"This bitch didn't mention any of the things she's doing to me! I didn't sign up for this! She betrayed us!"

"It's your own damn fault for trusting her! Now shut the hell up," Soul was finished yelling at the man in the cell next to him. He rested his head against the wall. Sitting on the bed, he wrapped his blanket around him. Though the walls of the laboratory, a faint and constant scream could be heard. Soul covered his ears with his hands. All of a sudden, he preferred the man's rant.

His cell had three cement walls and one glass. He could see directly into the room across from him. And for now, that room was empty. When he first got here, every cell was filled, some were even sharing. He closed his eyes against the memory. Wrapped in his blanket he tried to shut out the world. He used to be able to distract himself with thoughts of Maka. But now, knowing that she was in the very place he never wanted to see again, he couldn't even bring himself to picture her face.

Soul brought his knees to chest and wrapped his arms around them. He allowed a few tears to fall. The night he'd seen Maka at the concert hall was the last time he saw her. His heart completely broke at the sight of her. His resolve, his determination, his meaning almost completely shattered. His first thought was that his mother had finally won. She'd finally gotten the one thing that could destroy him. He didn't want to think of all the horrible things they were doing to her. A tap on the glass brought him to attention.

x

"Eat."

"No."

"Eat, damn it."

"No." The man cursed under his breath and walked over to Maka. She didn't resist as he forced her head down and smothered her face in the food. She held her breath and refused to open her mouth. The man pulled her head out of the food and cursed again. Taking a hand full of the food, he forced it down her throat. Maka gagged and choked as she was forced to swallow the food.

"Next time you don't eat," he whispered in her ear, "I'm shoving a damn tube down your throat." He took the plate and left. Maka sat in the chair, unmoving. Of course, she would move, if she could. Her ankles, waist, and wrists were all strapped to the chair. A little while later a maid came in to clean her up. Maka guessed that the she was around her age. Maka said nothing as a wet rag softly wiped at her face and neck.

The maid's hands shook slightly. Both of them knew that they were being watched. Maka looked down at the maid. She saw the beginnings of bruising on the maid's face and neck. She wanted to say something, anything.

"Please, just eat the food next time," the maid whispered as she rinsed the rag in a bucket of water. Maka pretended not to hear her. The maid took the rubber bands off Maka's hair and began to clean off the food that had gotten in it. Using her hair as a shield, Maka spoke to the maid.

"It's been laced with something," Maka whispered back, "I can't eat it." She heard the maid sigh.

"You're making my job harder than it needs to be," the maid snapped at Maka. She stood and walked to the door. "Eat the damn food," she said as she walked out. Maka sat there stunned. She didn't know why she expected something else.

She didn't know how long she had been in this room. It was like a normal bedroom. There was a bed, a closet, a desk with a laptop. There was also a table, at which Maka was supposed to eat, and that damn chair that strapped her down. Her door was glass. She could see that she was at the end of a hall way.

At the other end of the hall was an elevator; she could see everyone that came to that floor. Sometimes it was people in white robes, sometimes it was Mrs. Evans, and sometimes it was the experiments. The people who had no soul. During the process of extracting their soul, they resembled zombies. When the doors began to open, Maka looked down at the table. She didn't care who was stepping out. She heard the glass door swish open and close.

"Maka, dear," said a voice that she had gotten too familiar with. "I've got a surprise for you!" Maka continued to look away. "Aw, don't be like that! We've gotten so close in the last ten weeks." Maka closed her eyes. She refused to cry in front of this woman. Mrs. Evans walked around the table to Maka. Gripping Maka's chin harshly, she forced Maka to face her.

"Open your eyes," she commanded. Maka didn't feel the slap she'd just been given. All she felt was the pressure in her head rising. An overwhelming dizziness forced Maka's eyes to open. "There's a good girl." Maka tried her best to focus her eyes. "Now," Mrs. Evans began as she took off the straps, "You're going to change into something nice and do your hair. You have one hour."

Maka walked over to the closest as soon as Mrs. Evans left. There were all kinds of dresses, everything form huge ball gowns to beach dresses. Maka slowly pawed through all the dresses. She had a few possibilities when she found one to wear. The dress was a very light blue with a white sash around the waist. The strapless, straight cut top was intricately beaded with tiny, clear beads that dwindled to nothing as it got closer to the bust.

Searching through the drawers in the closest, Maka found a pair of really small white, pearl earrings, white gloves that stopped a few inches from her shoulder, white nylon tights, and baby blue dress shoes with a small heel. Maka did her hair first and put it in a tall pony tail. Her bangs were long enough to pin back with a small bump. She stripped down to her underwear and put the tights on first. She had decided on wearing tights because of a scar that ran across both legs, in the middle of her shins, and the dress wouldn't cover them. The dress went a little past her knees. It was tight at the waist and flared a little. She put on the accessories that she found.

Maka was just about to put on the dress shoes when she decided against them. She searched the closest until she found them, her black combat boots. She felt at ease when she had on something she knew she could run in. Then, thinking in terms of comfort, she took off the high gloves. She found her usual white, fighting gloves that stopped at the wrist, and put those on instead. When she was done, she sat on the bed.

With her back straight and her shoulders squared, she stared out the glass door and waited. Maka had no way to tell time and the minutes seemed to pass by slowly. Her mind was just about to enter the wandering stage of boredom when the elevator door opened. Mrs. Evans walked toward Maka in a long, sleek, strapless black dress. Her hair was in waves that reached her lower back. She smiled as she saw that Maka was dressed and ready.

"Would you look at you," Mrs. Evans greeted as she opened the door. "You look so adorable, like the daughter I never had." Maka stared at her with a blank face. "Well," Mrs. Evans forced another smile, "Let's go." She held the door open for Maka. For a moment, Maka was stunned. In the ten weeks she'd been there, she had never once left that room. She stood up shakily and began to walk toward the door. She noticed Mrs. Evans grimace as she noticed Maka's shoes. That small grimace gave Maka a tiny sense of satisfaction.

Maka crossed the threshold with her head held high. Mrs. Evans smirked and took the lead. Maka followed her into the elevator. The elevator descended three floors, then six, then nine. Maka stopped counting after twenty-five. She was expecting to be at the center of the earth by the time they got out.

"When you see the surprise I have for you, do not run to it. You must keep calm. Just follow me, understand?" Mrs. Evans asked Maka.

"Yes, mother," Maka said sarcastically. Mrs. Evans laughed.

"There was a time you really wanted that," Mrs. Evans responded. Maka flinched. She remembered exactly what she was talking about. Unfortunately, this wasn't Maka's first encounter with Mrs. Evans. The doors finally opened and Mrs. Evans took the lead again. Maka followed her down the hallway and around some corners.

"Are you ready?" Mrs. Evans asked as they finally reached oak French doors. Maka could read that there were at least fifty two souls in the next room. She nodded. Mrs. Evans smiled and opened the doors to a Victorian-styled ball room. Inside the room were over four hundred guests dancing and eating and laughing.

x

Soul was sitting in a corner table towards the back of the hall, his arms crossing over his chest. So this was the grand ball his mother told him about. It sucked. The people there were all products of this stupid organization or people interested in it.

"Bettering humanity?" Soul murmured to himself.

"Oh, don't be like that," the voice sitting to Soul's right joked. Soul sighed and closed his eyes. "Being immortal is something to celebrate. They're the first successful batch!"

"Shut up, Wes," Soul whispered to his older brother. Wes patted his younger brother on the shoulder.

"Well, this party is for you after all," Wes said with a smug smile on his face. Soul looked at his brother.

"What do you mean?" Wes' smile grew.

"You were the first successful immortal, bro. Didn't you know?" Soul's arms fell from their place across his chest. His brother maliciously played on his reaction. "But, of course, you know that you're also the first immortal to die. I mean, you knew that, didn't you?"

"What the hell are you talking about, Wes?" Soul's voice was barely above a whisper.

"Don't you know where your soul is, Soul?" Soul's heart race began to accelerate. The front doors opened and two women walked in. "Speak of the devil," Wes said cheerfully. "There's your soul right there!"