"I still don't see why you two have to share a room," Aria commented, genuinely befuddled. "There are basically no other aides here. I mean, we haven't run into a single person aside from Miss Davenport, Mrs. Holly and that nameless janitor on the ground floor. We haven't even seen Ms. Dunne."

"I think the universe just hates me," William said matter-of-factly.

Sebastian rolled his eyes.

"Well, now that I know where to find you two if needed, could you guys show me where they keep the patients?"

Here William and Sebastian looked at each other as though caught in a joint lie.

Aria cocked an eyebrow. "Is there a problem, gentlemen?"

"In a matter of speaking," Sebastian began, looking mildly put off by the situation. Aria, who was not used to seeing anything stump Sebastian, was intrigued. "We haven't been asked to take care of any of the patients yet."

"Beg pardon?" she stated, surprised. "What on Earth were you hired for if not to care for the patients?"

Sebastian shrugged. "An excellent question, though one to which I sadly have no answer. Ms. Dunne never really got around to showing me any of the patients, or any of their rooms. Whether this was done purposefully, I do not know."

"It would be highly coincidental and marvelously inefficient if it wasn't done on purpose," William supposed, crossing his arms. "She was even able to avoid giving me a tour, leaving all of that to Mr. Marlowe here, who clearly wouldn't have been able to point me in the direction of the patients."

"This entire situation is beyond bizarre," Aria sighed, exasperated. "I'm starting to believe that everybody who works here is in more need of medical attention than their patients. Dr. Carmichael is corrupt, Ms. Dunne needs to buy a personality, Miss Davenport can't look people in the eye and Undertaker... well, he requires no explanation, does he?"

Sebastian chuckled. "At least there's Mrs. Holly."

"Thank God for her," Aria exclaimed, throwing her hands up in the air.

William smiled. "Seeing as the staff here cannot be trusted, perhaps we should find the patients and see if there is anything amiss."

"Yes, let's," Aria agreed as they continued down the hall. "Well, I suppose the only other place to go from here is up. I haven't been to any of the upper levels yet, have you two?"

"No," William answered, pushing his glasses back up the bridge of his nose. "We didn't want to do extensive snooping lest we run into Undertaker. He would recognize Michaelis instantly, and notice I am a reaper if he got too close."

"I highly doubt we'll run into him upstairs," Aria thought aloud. "His laboratory is in the depths of the asylum, and he does so many operations I'd say he's down there most of the time."

"Here's hoping you're right," Sebastian muttered as they climbed the stairs to the second storey.

Aria took this opportunity to show them where she was staying before they made their way to the third storey.

"Do either of you know how many floors this place has?" Aria inquired, as they looked about the eerily silent third storey hallway.

"There are ten storeys visible from outside," Sebastian informed her. "As far as the underground levels are concerned, you would know better than I."

"I recall some of the upper floor windows being boarded up," Aria continued, looking out of a mullioned window that gave an excellent view of the drive below.

"Yes, that piqued my curiosity as well," Sebastian replied, pinching his chin between thumb and forefinger in thought. "Perhaps some of the upper levels are no longer in use?"

"Perhaps," Aria murmured, unconvinced. This place was too peculiar to suppose anything.

"Shall we continue on?" William questioned, tilting his head toward the end of the hall.

"Of course," Aria confirmed, turning to follow him down the corridor, Sebastian in their wake.

After they had made a thorough examination of the third storey without stumbling upon anything of interest, they continued their trek upward.

"This is getting ridiculous," William muttered.

"Tell me about it," Aria agreed, frowning. "Where the hell is everybody?"

Just as they were about to assume their chances of finding anybody or anything was remote at best, they exited the stairwell onto the fifth floor landing, and were almost run down by a young woman in a maid uniform.

"Sorry, sorry," the girl apologized hurriedly, ducking her head and attempting to get past them without making eye-contact.

"Wait a moment, please," Aria stated, grabbing her arm.

The woman's head shot up abruptly, almost colliding with Aria's own. Her eyes were wide and frantic, looking around as though she was afraid of being punished for interacting with another human being. The pathologist nearly lost her grip on the woman's arm when she saw the maid's bewildered state of distress.

Wishing to sooth the girl's alarm, Aria smiled and said in a soft voice, "I'm terribly sorry for startling you. I was hoping you could tell us where you just came from. You looked to be retreating in quite a hurry."

The girl visibly swallowed past a lump in her throat, and said in a shaky voice, "I was - er, that is - I just finished cleaning da patients' bedrooms. Now's their time ta be out, so I had ta get da cleaning done."

"Oh, well, I'm sorry for holding you up. Tell me, are the patients still out?"

"Yeah," the woman responded, nodding.

"Where are they at the moment?"

"In the morning room, like usual," the maid replied, looking distinctly uncomfortable. As if suddenly noticing William and Sebastian, her eyes widened before darting back to Aria's. Shuffling her feet, she gave a hushed, "Can I go now?"

"By all means," the doctor returned, letting go of her arm.

Without a moment's hesitation, the maid rushed past them and practically ran down the stairs.

"Well, that was odd," William wondered, looking after her.

"She looked frightened out of her wits," Aria commented, a cloud of worry darkening her eyes.

"Perhaps she broke something in one of the patients' rooms and was trying to get away before being caught," Sebastian suggested, crossing his arms. "Surely it wouldn't be the first time."

"Should this tell us something about your staff?" William queried, looking over at his demonic roommate.

"You have that ginger basket-case, and I have my incompetent underlings. Nobody's workplace is perfect."

"On this much, we agree," William stated, smirking. "Would you like to trade?"

"Not on your life," the demon returned, smirking back.

"Are you two actually getting along?" Aria asked, feigning shock. "I don't know how to handle this situation. My special training didn't cover such an impossibility."

Their joint glare teased a laugh out of her. Turning on her heel, she chuckled and waved her hand. "Come, gentlemen, we have work to do."

After a few minutes of wandering, the trio managed to come across a door that had voices on the other side.

"The morning room, perhaps?" Sebastian said, looking over at Aria.

"Given that it's the only room we've found with living people in it, I'd say so," she returned. "Well, let's see these patients."

Twisting the knob and lightly pushing forward, the door swung open on silent hinges, revealing a surprisingly well-lit room with an equally surprising number of people in it.

"What do you know," she muttered under her breath, "this building does house patients."

"And they seem to be fairly well cared for," William added.

"Indeed," Aria replied absent-mindedly, venturing farther into the room.

Uncharacteristic for the asylum, the room had comfortably upholstered chairs and even tables with tea things set out. The wall opposite the door was lined with clean glass windows, letting in the weak, but inviting, sun. Plants were scattered about the lounging area, giving off the impression of life, while colorful carpets covered the wooden floor.

Patients were sitting all around the room, some in the upholstered seats, some on the window sills and others in wheel-chairs that they probably rarely left. More were simply standing, gazing vacantly into open space or dancing minimally by themselves.

Some of the nurses - cold looking creatures with hair pulled back as tight as Ms. Dunne's - looked Aria over with suspicious eyes, but upon introducing herself, they at least hid their discontent.

William and Sebastian split up, introducing themselves as newly hired aides and asking if their assistance was required. They were thanked for their offer, but always declined in the end. After reassuring herself that the patients were indeed in good health and meeting all of the nurses, Aria left the room. William and Sebastian followed after her a few minutes later.

They walked in silence until they were far enough away from the morning room not to be overheard.

"Well," Aria began, "all of the patients in the room are in good health physically speaking."

"Hardly the friendliest of workers, though," William input. "All of the nurses insisted they didn't require our help at all."

"They appear to be wary of outsiders, almost to a ludicrous level," Sebastian agreed, leaning against the wall. "I wasn't able to get anything helpful out of them."

"Nor was I," Aria added. "Still, I couldn't help but note one overwhelming fact."

"And that fact would be?" William asked, looking down at her with sudden interest.

"The last names of all of the patients, you didn't find anything suspicious about them?"

"Not particularly," Sebastian shrugged. "They all seem to be individuals from well to do families suffering from unfortunate mental maladies."

"Precisely," Aria exclaimed, eyes bright with excitement. "Every single one of those patients were from wealthy families. There wasn't a single individual from a middle class family at all. The patient with the lowest status was the son of a wealthy merchant. Now, I don't know about you lot, but I've never been to a public asylum that caters exclusively to the upper echelons of society when a middle class family can also pay the fee for admission."

"You make a good point," Sebastian said after her explanation. "The absence of any patient of normal birth is indeed unusual."

"And it begs the question," William began, "that if this asylum once had patients from less prevalent families, where are they now?"

There was a brief silence while the trio considered the implications of this question. Taking into account all of the horrendous goings-on in the asylum, a worst case scenario situation was a definite possibility.

"I say we check the rest of the floors," Aria stated evenly. "As I recall, the upper windows are shuttered, so if there is anything to hide, that would be the place to put it."

"I concur," William nodded. Looking over at Sebastian, he asked, "Are you up for an extended tour?"

"But of course," the demon smiled, eyes closed. "Lead the way."

)*(

After leaving the fifth storey for the sixth, the windows had become boarded and impossible to see through. The sixth and seventh storeys held absolutely nothing of interest. As usual, all of the walls and doors were a sterile white, and everything was locked. No sound could be heard aside from the trio's footsteps and occasional sighs of frustration.

As they finished their inspection of the eighth storey, they were beginning to assume that the top floors really were just unused. Still, having come that far, none of them were willing to leave their snooping job unfinished. Bound and determined, they trotted their way up to the ninth floor.

This search began as equally unremarkable as all of the others. The doors were all locked, no notion of life coming from behind any of them, and the windows were all boarded, not a sliver of sunlight breaking through. The boredom was about to kick up another volley of complaints when they came to a door at the end of the hallway that was not only locked, but padlocked.

"If they were going for suspicious," Aria commented, "they've succeeded."

Sebastian stepped closer, leaning over to inspect the lock.

"It isn't rusted," he informed them, going down on his haunches in order to become eye level with the mechanism. "I'd say it's unlocked rather frequently."

"That's a surprise," William said, crouching down by the demonic butler to get a better look. "I didn't think this place got much through traffic."

"My thoughts exactly," Sebastian returned.

Furrowing his brows, William put his ear to the door. Sebastian did the same. Both listened. Aria stood behind them, trying to hold back her impatience. With the both of them crouched in front of the door, it was impossible for her to get a closer look and inspect it herself. Reining in a sigh, she crossed her arms and awaited their assessment.

It came sooner than she expected.

"There are people behind this door," William confirmed before standing back up to his full height.

"A decent number too," Sebastian added, rising as well.

Both men turned back to her.

"I say we have a look," the demon suggested. "This development does not bode well."

"No, it most certainly doesn't," Aria concurred, frowning deeply. "Why on earth would they keep people all the way up here behind a padlocked door?"

"Only one way to find out," Sebastian prodded, raising an eyebrow.

"Sadly," William stated, "we do not have the key to the door. For hired aides, we certainly don't serve much of a purpose."

Sebastian shrugged, looking distinctly unperturbed by this significant setback to his plans. "Tosh. I can just break the door down. It would hardly pose much of a problem."

Aria's eyes widened as she stepped forward to preempt any sudden moves Sebastian had a mind to make to that effect.

Meanwhile, William was muttering something under his breath regarding the other man's demonic nature.

"Are you insane?" Aria asked, grabbing his arm as though to stop its use. "If you break that door down, then our covers will be blown for sure. We don't know exactly who's behind that door; it could be other staff members, which would make our clandestine investigation hard to explain away. Besides, if we did manage to break it down and get away undetected, this breech of security will certainly raise suspicions, and who do you think they would suspect first? The newly hired aides and one recently arrived doctor. No, that wouldn't do at all."

Finally releasing his arm, Aria stooped down to examine the lock herself.

Sebastian, though irritated at being corrected (And in front of a reaper, no less!), stood silently behind her and made no move to kick the blasted slab of wood off its hinges.

William was doing his best to hide his smirk, and after failing miserably, earning him a glare from his roommate, he turned to watch Aria.

She was studying the lock intently, testing its strength and peering at the keyhole. He couldn't help but notice her slender fingers or how delicate her wrists were. Ashamed of thinking such a thing at a time like this, he diverted his gaze to a spot higher up the door and took on an air of superior indifference.

The demon across from him, however, had not missed a beat. Having witnessed and manipulated human desires for centuries, he interpreted what he had just watched in a matter of moments. Displaying a smirk that told of his truly despicable nature, he glanced over at Will and stated, "Modern day locks can be so terribly frustrating, can't they, Mr. Spears?"

The scathing glare he received in response was delightful in the extreme.

Having blocked out the entire exchange, Aria stood back up and dusted off her hands. Turning to the men at her back, she was momentarily put off by the faces they were giving one another, but eventually attributed them to their natural animosity and began to speak.

"This lock is complex, but not impossible. I shall have to fetch my lock-picking tools. With them, I should be able to force it."

"Marvelous," Sebastian purred, still glancing at William. "I'm sure you're skilled hands will make short work of it."

Aria cocked an eyebrow, and William looked as though he were about to kill Sebastian on the spot with only the seething hatred in his eyes.

Perhaps that was why none of them noticed Ms. Dunne before she spoke.

"What are you three doing up here?"

They jolted to attention and were scrambling for answers when it was silently agreed upon that Aria would be the one to lie for the team.

Smiling, she looked over at Ms. Dunne and stated, "These fine gentlemen were giving me a tour of the asylum when we discovered that all three of us were relatively new here. We decided, therefore, that we would get acquainted with the building together. We had just come upon this locked door when you found us. Pray tell, what is behind it?"

"That is none of your concern," the matron scolded harshly, eyes squinting in anger. "You shouldn't stick your nose where it doesn't belong."

Aria did nothing to hide her shock at this admonishment.

"My dear Ms. Dunne, you make it sound like something terrible."

She had nothing to say to that.

"Well," Aria continued, walking past the column of ice that was Ms. Dunne, "we shall take our leave, then. Come, gentlemen. It would seem we're not wanted here."

Without a word, the men followed her lead and the trio eventually found their way back to William and Sebastian's quarters. They had walked silently the entire way down, and didn't speak until the door was firmly locked behind them.

When this was done, Aria spun on her heel and pinched her chin in thought. "A blatantly hostile reception, that," she muttered. "She's certainly not trying to make this place seem less suspicious."

"Indeed," Sebastian said, tilting his head. "It would seem that whatever is behind that door is incriminating in the extreme."

"And the fact we know there are people behind it hardly lifts my spirits," William sighed, sitting down on his stone of a bed. "We can't leave this unattended. We must investigate soon."

"I agree," Aria said, looking over at William. "Tonight after I return from Undertaker's laboratory, I will run to my room, grab my supplies, and come to get you two. Then we can head upstairs and see about opening that door."

"Sounds like a plan," Sebastian intoned.

"Good. I'll head out then," Aria stated, turning to open the door.

Before she could do so, however, Sebastian called out to her.

"Aria," he began.

Turning back around, she looked over at him. "Yes?"

"If you feel threatened, or require any assistance at all, do not hesitate to call my name."

At a loss for what to say, she nodded once and muttered, "Yes. Thank you, Sebastian," before retreating through the door.

)*(

"Any word from William?"

Alan looked up from his paperwork to see who had addressed him. Lynn was poking her head through his cubical space, brown hair in a sloppy up-do and glasses resting so low on her nose she looked like a librarian about to scold.

Smiling softly, Alan shook his head. "No, not yet. Don't worry, Lynn, I'll contact you directly when I receive anything from him."

Lynn gave a slight frown. "Fine," she sighed, waltzing past his work area and out of sight.

Alan chuckled. Lynn tried to make it seem as though she wasn't worried, but she wasn't doing the best job of it. Turning back to his paperwork, Alan determined to get the rest of the stack done before he clocked out. He didn't like to leave things unfinished, and a stack of uncompleted papers was hardly the thing he wanted to be greeted by tomorrow morning.

Unconsciously humming a popular drinking song, Alan returned to systematically signing, stamping and stacking.

He didn't get far, however, before he was interrupted again.

"Alan, sweetheart, have you seen Elle? I've just had the most excellent idea and must tell her immediately."

There was no need to look behind him to know who had asked that question.

"She was headed in the direction of the lift last time I saw her, Grell," Alan said, not breaking his rhythm. "It couldn't have been much more than five minutes ago."

"Thank you, dear," the red-head called back, sashaying away.

Finally, some peace and quiet.

"Hey, Al!"

He stood corrected.

"What do you want, Ronald?" Alan asked, trying to hide his irritation. Ever since William had left to do his undercover work, Alan had been the go to man in the office. He was beginning to understand why William was always so perturbed.

"Could you look over this paperwork?" the blonde reaper asked, handing over two sheets of type. "I've never been good at formatting and summarizing like you, so I'd like your input."

Spinning around in his chair, Alan acquiesced, gently taking the papers from Ronald's grip. "It's good to see you so conscientious about your work, Ronald," the brunette stated, quickly scanning over his colleague's report. "If I were you, I'd take out this sentence here; it's not really necessary. Also, try not to use too many contractions. Full words look more professional. Other than that, you did a fairly decent job."

Ronald beamed with pride. "Will do! Thanks, boss." And with that, he sauntered away.

Alan turned back to his paperwork once more and fell into his working groove again before he realized that Ronald had just called him boss.

Flushing a little in embarrassment and delight, Alan continued working until he was interrupted yet again. This time, it was Eric, who had popped his head over the cubical wall in front of him. Technically, Eric was his superior, and Alan had always wanted to be just like him when he advanced in his career. He still looked up to Eric, but he was finding that their dynamic was changing to that of friends more than a superior to his subordinate.

A little confused as to why Eric would be calling for him, he looked up with a questioning gaze and asked, "What is it, Eric? Surely you don't need me to look over your paperwork as well."

Eric laughed. "Not hardly, Alan. You're a top-notch employee and all, but I'm not as green as Ronald. I was just wondering if you would like to go grab some lunch. You've been working so diligently today that you haven't even realized it's past noon."

Alan's eyes widened as he looked up at the clock on the wall.

Well, what do you know...

"Sounds great," he responded, pushing his chair out and rising from his desk. "Like you said, I didn't even notice."

Eric shrugged. "It happens. Still, it's good to take a break every now and then. Come on, I heard they have pie in the cafeteria."

Alan chuckled. "Do they have any real food, perchance?"

"What are you talking about, Al? Pie is real food."

Alan rolled his eyes. "Whatever you say, boss."

When they were finally seated with their real food and slices of pie, Eric wondered out loud, "I wondered what "excellent idea" Grell wanted to share with Lynn?"

"I haven't the faintest," Alan admitted, spearing a peach slice with his fork. "But with those two, who knows what's in store."

"A hell of a lot of trouble, that's what," Eric stated, going first for his dessert. "At least with Lynn around, Grell's antics are more on the amusing side and less on the criminal. A good change for all concerned."

"Indeed," Alan agreed. "Looks like we'll just have to wait and see."

"Oh goodie."

)*(

It was after nightfall before Aria made her way down to Undertaker's laboratory. As she traveled down the crumbling steps alone, she tried to think of anything other than her present surroundings and the amount of dead bodies waiting for her at her destination. So what if the twisting stairwell looked like something out of a medieval horror story? What did she think was going to happen? There was no way a gaggle of ghosts were going to start reaching for her through the poorly cleaned walls. Ghosts weren't real, anyway.

Or were they?

Because apparently reapers and demons were real.

Now her imagination was getting out of hand.

Shaking her head at her own skittishness, she carefully made her way down the spiraling staircase until she reached the uneven, yet stable, stone floor of the basement level. Steeling herself for what horrors may be to come, she located the door to Undertaker's workshop and knocked. She heard shuffling from inside and was beginning to knock again when the rough hewn surface was pulled back and replaced with Undertaker's emerald eyes.

Having satisfied himself as to her identity, he threw the door open wide and greeted her with a toothy grin.

"Ah, Dr. Sin. What a sight for sore eyes. Come in, come in!"

Ushering her inside, Undertaker closed and locked the door behind her. After this precaution was taken, he glided past her into the room, strangely graceful in his costume of black robes and startlingly tall leather boots.

Upon her first finding him, she had hardly had time to inspect his entire outfit, what with the histrionics and rotting corpses, but now she took him in fully, and found herself completely floored by the sheer height of his boots. Dear God. Did they go all the way up?

He saw her mildly impressed stare and snickered. "Do you like them?" he questioned, pulling a robe back to show them off. "It's a bit much, I know, but at least I never have to worry about them coming untied."

"Not with that amount of buckles you don't," Aria acknowledged, crossing her arms. "Did they have to kill a whole cow to get the leather for those things?"

Here he let out a shriek of laughter, sending a chill through her. Damn, he could be creepy.

"One cow for each boot," he giggled, strolling over to the operation table that Aria now perceived was not empty. "Anyhow, we didn't come here to discuss my fashion choices. We've been given a new plaything."

The way he grinned as he spoke put Aria on her guard.

"Oh?" she questioned, trying to portray perfect calm coupled with modest interest. "And how did we come across this?"

On the table, strapped down even though he was clearly no longer among the living, was a man who appeared to be in his late forties. There were signs of minute malnutrition and enough bruising around his wrists, ankles and arms to suggest that he had fought against his restraints for a long period before he died. Indeed, some of the bruising was older while some seemed to be fairly recent. Conclusion: the man had been restrained multiple times during his stay at Stonehart. His body showed no immediately visible clues to his death, but Aria knew enough to believe it suspicious and unnatural.

"Dr. Carmichael was kind enough to bring him down earlier today," Undertaker explained, patting the man's head. "Died of cardiac arrest. Not the best way to go."

Aria agreed.

Making a quick examination of the body, she spied a small, but perceptible injection mark on the inside of his right elbow. If this man had died of cardiac arrest, it was undoubtedly induced. If that was the case, then that made Dr. Carmichael more than an unsavory cohort. The man was a murderer, and Undertaker was no better.

"What are you planning to do with the poor sod?" Aria asked, looking curiously up at Undertaker. "You clearly haven't done any work on him yet, and I see no immediate reason to strap a dead man to a table unless you believe he won't be dead for very much longer."

The grin she received was unsettling.

"It is satisfying having a partner who can grasp the full picture without being led along by the hand. Yes, I have not done anything to him as of yet. That is because I wanted to operate on him with you, so you can get the full grasp of my research. His being strapped down led you to the only possible conclusion. I intend to show you my resurrection methods tonight."

Oh joy.

"You intend to finish all of that in one night?" Aria asked, sounding incredulous. "Will it not take time?"

Undertaker found a hair tie and brought his silver locks up and out of his face. Aria was once again struck by how beautiful the man was with his bangs out of the way.

"I have worked on so many bodies, my dear, that I have rather streamlined the process," he began. "We need only successfully place the metal rods in his brain and charge him with volts of electricity. Not too complex, once you get the hang of it, but I would rather give you a hands on experience than have you take my word for it. Besides, I want you to see exactly why this device is inefficient for my purposes."

Aria nodded vaguely at his explanation and looked around the room searchingly. "Do I at least get a lab coat? I don't exactly want to soil this dress with human blood."

Undertaker giggled and pranced over to a trunk, yanking the requested object out of its confines. "So, even established doctors worry about their appearance, eh?" he joked before tossing the white garment over to her.

She rolled her eyes and slipped the lab coat on, buttoning it all the way up. "I am allowed to care about my clothes. Blood stains lead to difficult laundry, and I am infernally lazy."

He cackled again, opting not to use the same protection for his black robes. "I would offer you gloves, but I'm afraid I don't have any. Neither Dr. Carmichael nor I use them."

"Surprise, surprise," she muttered sardonically. "Lucky for you, I have a strong stomach."

"Lucky for you, we won't be playing around in his guts," Undertaker returned, rolling a tray of instruments over to the operating table. "Just the brain. And we won't even be taking it out. See? A clean procedure."

"Stop trying to make yourself feel better about not having gloves on hand," she shot back, smiling belatedly at her own pun.

Her companion, true to character, picked up on it as well. "Ha! Gloves on hand! You always were a riot!"

"I'm here all night," she announced, bowing dramatically at the waist. "Feel free to leave tips."

"Here's one," he started, beckoning her to the table. "Don't make a man laugh as he's performing surgery."

"Why?" she queried, looking genuinely confused. "Afraid you'll kill your patient?"

They both broke out into another bout of roaring cackles, and Aria suddenly realized how easy it had been to fall back into her old routine with Undertaker. It was as though the man had never left, and a small part of her wished that that was, in fact, the case.

"Now that you've thoroughly amused me, my dove, shall we commence with proceedings?"

His question reminded her just what it was they were about to do, and her stomach dropped.

"But of course," she responded, hiding her fallen spirits well. Now more than ever had she finally realized just how impossible her old friendship with Undertaker had become.

"Good," he commented, picking up a straight razor. "Shall you shave the head, or shall I?"

"You are the mortician," she replied. "I'm surprised you'd hand over the opportunity."

He smiled. "You know me too well. I'll give him his haircut, then. You shall attend to the rest. With my supervision, of course."

"Of course, Professor," she teased, raising an eyebrow. "Now, are you going to keep blathering, or are you going to get to work?"

"Snarky one, aren't you?" he kidded, before wetting the man's hair and proceeding to shave his head. It didn't take long before he finished the job; Aria hadn't figured it would. Still, she was hardly prepared to needlessly butcher the body of a murder victim, and even less prepared for the man's imminent resurrection. Backing out now, however, was out of the question. It would only raise Undertaker's suspicions if she suddenly got queasy. She was never queasy.

"Are you ready, Dr. Sin?" he asked, setting the razor back down on the instrument tray.

"Of course," she assured him. Calmly, detachedly, she began marking the places to cut. Once that step was out of the way, the procedure began. With a scalpel, she removed the flesh from the top of the skull. From there, it became only a matter of cleanly cutting away the skull without significantly cracking it, as it would be replaced later on. When all of this had been completed, she looked over at Undertaker expectantly.

"What is it we do now?" she inquired, placing her instruments back on the tray.

"Now, my dear, we place these." Here he picked up the metal rods and grinned sadistically. "Allow me to do this bit for you. Watch where I place them so you may replicate the procedure in the future."

Stepping to the side, she allowed Undertaker to replace her at the head of the operating table. Peering over his shoulder, she watched closely at where he placed his electrical conductors. The steps weren't very complex, and it took but a moment to set everything up the way he wanted. Clapping his hands for a job well done, he hooked the conductors to a generator at the end of the room with coils of wire.

Grinning at what was about to take place, he snaked his fingers around the lever that would power the electrical current.

"You might want to step back, dear heart. Wouldn't want you getting shocked, now would we?"

Taking his precaution, Aria quickly made her way to the other side of the room, dreading the display she was about to see. Death she was accustomed to, but unnatural rebirth? This was not going to end well.

"Ready?" Undertaker called out, anticipation pouring off of him in waves.

"I suppose," Aria muttered, unable to hide her anxiety.

Undertaker either ignored her wariness or was completely heedless of it. "Marvelous," he whispered to himself before pulling the lever with a theatrical fling of his body.

Instantly, a whizzing noise was evident in the room, as the machine started whirring. Aria could see the sparks dancing off of the wires as they raced to the body at the heart of the laboratory. She was grabbed by an unshakable feeling of dread as the first snapping bolt reached the conducting rods protruding from the corpse's brain.

And then it all seemed to happen in a rush. The conducting rods were bombarded with electricity as the lights in the room began flickering on and off. Aria was beginning to wonder if the brain would be fried instead of revived when a high pitched scream sounded out in the small space.

She suddenly realized that neither she nor the Undertaker were screaming.

Her heart stopped as the body on the table lurched forward and reached for the sky, every fiber begging for the pain to end. She stifled a gasp, fisting her hand and biting down on her knuckles until she tasted copper. This was wrong. So, horribly unnatural. What on earth had they done?

As soon as it began, Undertaker threw the lever up, interrupting the electrical current and ending the parade of dangerous sparks marching down the wires to the bastard at the other end. The man fell back on the table, moaning and groaning as his agony slowly receded. As the corpse's eyelids fluttered closed, his breathing began to take on a more natural pace, and he was soon sleeping where he had previously been decomposing.

Aria's mouth hung agape in wonder. That had been astonishing.

She was unable to check her expression before Undertaker began giggling at it. Closing her mouth and regaining her composure, the pathologist was fairly certain in her ability to hold an intelligent conversation by the time Undertaker joined her at her side of the room.

"What did you think?" he asked excitedly.

The doctor imagined he already knew the answer, given her plainly visible amazement, but she humored him anyway.

"That was... incredible." And she wasn't lying. It really had been incredible, grotesque though it was.

He jumped at her praise, picking her up by the waist and spinning her around the room in his joy. A squeak escaped her lips when he did this, and she had no other choice but to hold on to his shoulders until his display of emotion ceased. When that finally happened, she was horribly dizzy and had to clutch at a table to keep from falling over.

Once his glee had abated to a manageable level, he turned back to her and asked, "What can you do to progress this? The body is now alive, but it will die again if not stimulated once more. I can't have a body that continually needs recharging, and as you can see, the metal rods hardly make for a charming hat. I need you to fix my flaws."

For a moment she said nothing. He had asked her to fix what was wrong with his experiments, and she couldn't help but come to the conclusion that the experiments themselves were what was wrong. Still, she had to give him some type of answer.

"The electricity," she began, "is too strong when introduced in this way. The body awakens in intense pain and is unable to function. We will have to find a way to stimulate the brain without such volatile charges."

He nodded, seriously listening to everything she said. "Yes, I've noticed this. The electricity awakens the corpses, but they always have to rest for quite some time afterwards due to the experience. Their sleeping takes up most of the time between recharging, which doesn't open the doors to a lot of recuperation opportunities. If you could find a more efficient way to stimulate and recharge the corpses, I would be eternally indebted to you."

"Hell yeah you would," she muttered, causing him to smile. "I'll begin working on the problem. It may take me some time, but I don't know if I could witness another bout of shrieking corpse."

Undertaker actually grimaced. "Yes, it is a bit hellish to witness, I suppose."

"You suppose correctly. Now, if that's all we're doing for tonight, I think I shall turn in. It's been quite a day."

"Yes, it most certainly has. Well, goodnight, my dove. I shall see you tomorrow night."

"Goodnight, Undertaker," she returned, handing her lab coat over to him.

After washing her hands in the washbasin, she left him there, alone with his victims.

"Now to grab my lock-picking equipment," she mumbled to herself as she hurried up the twisting stairs back to the earth's surface.

Hello, everybody! Long time no update, but that's nothing new, I suppose. Here's a little Christmas present by way of a new chapter. I hope you enjoyed it. May everyone have a very merry Christmas and a Happy New Year!