"You're crazy!" he spat angrily, eyes filled with rage.

Ubel simply turned on his recorder.

"Log. Second Prisoner. Sounds German."

The albino struggled wildly, teeth gritted together.

"Albino, with intriguing red eyes. Seems to be in mid-twenties."

The man stopped thrashing when it proved to be useless, and he lay back on the table, panting.

"What is your name?" Ubel asked.

The albino smirked. "Wouldn't you like to know?" he retorted.

Ubel frowned. "This may be the last record of your existence. I would recommend you give your name."

His new subject stared at him for a moment, eyes narrowed.

"...Gilbert. Gilbert Beilschmidt."

Ubel nodded in approval, and Gilbert scoffed.

"I will begin the experiment. For this one, I will use impalement."

Gilbert turned white.

"Excuse me?" he barked, but more out of bewilderment then anger.

Ubel summoned his soldiers, who removed Gilbert from the table, and brought him to the center of the room.

There was a large wooden pole, with one end sharpened to a fine point.

It was laying on its side, so the soldiers tied Gilbert's wrists and ankles to the pole, and the tip was less than four inches from Gilbert's stomach.

"Impalement is rather interesting," Ubel murmured.

Gilbert refused to look at him, in case the lunatic could see the panic that was welling up in his chest.

"Sometimes it takes days for people to die."

Oh mein gott.

Once Gilbert was securely fastened, one soldier lifted Gilbert while the other lifted the pole so it was standing upright.

He placed the flat end in a sturdy cement hold, so Gilbert couldn't simply turn it over.

The soldier held him up until the other was ready putting it in place.

Ubel nodded, and the soldier lowered Gilbert onto the pole, and let go.

Gilbert gasped in pain, as his weight forced the tip of the pole about a centimeter into his stomach.

The wood burned as it dug into Gilbert's flesh, and his breath came in ragged pants.

His face was twisted in pain, and though he tried to hold himself up, his arms weren't strong enough.

"Guh..."

Ubel blinked once, then twice.

"You will most likely live for about a day, so if there is anything you would like to get on record, I would say so while you can."

Gilbert groaned at the point forced itself deeper into his gut.

He spit on the ground at Ubel's feet.

Ubel didn't say a word.

Hours went by, stretching on forever it seemed, yet minutes flew by before Gilbert could blink.

This really was torture, he decided.

A slow death, one you could clearly seeing coming, but couldn't prevent.

He tried, he really did.

Gilbert clutched the pole until his nails cracked and bled and his legs kicked feebly into the air.

The pole was tall enough so that by the time Gilbert could put his feet on the ground, he would be dead.

Briefly, he wondered how long it would take before someone noticed he was missing.

Not too long, he supposed, but long enough for him to die.

They probably wouldn't even find out how he died either.

To pass the time, Ubel replayed his last experiment, listening intently to the process.

Gilbert's blood ran cold when he heard that tape, ending with Alfred's agonized screams and Ubel's murmur of success.

He clenched his eyes shut to keep tears from escaping as it felt like he was being ripped in half.

Ubel turned out to be right.

Gilbert was still breathing the next morning, though the pole had already begun protruding from Gilbert's back, and blood dripped from Gilbert's mouth, making it even harder to breathe.

He'd stopped screaming a while back, and he couldn't move his arms of legs anymore.

"Do you still not want to say anything?"

Gilbert jerkily raised his head to love at Ubel with glazed eyes.

He was already half dead.

"G-G..."

Ubel raised an eyebrow.

"Go...t-to...hell, y-you...b-bastard."

Ubel sighed. "Curse me all you like, it will do nothing to help you."

Gilbert didn't make it to the next day.

He choked on his own blood as his vision grew dim.

His last thoughts were of a tall, blond man in a green uniform, with a familiar yellow bird on his shoulder.