The Spider and the Experiment

Jane.

I do not own Stein, Soul, Black*Star, Tsubaki, Maka, Kid, Liz, Patti, or Asura...

How does one measure true madness when madness is merely a state of mind? It is a crippling disease, seeping into our already corrupt minds and poisoning them to the brink of insanity. There is no cure to this slow painfully sadistic ultimate demise. Each individual must race to find balance in this insanity and each must live with it. Until the day we finally just snap, that insanity toys with our thoughts, our desires, and the very essence of our lives while we are tortured in our own miserable minds.

Light a cigarette, last pack. Inhale, hold it. Check the clock. Exhale, sigh.

There are only so many options for me now. I know the grand finale of this hellish state I'm in. Ultimately I am destined to drown in this madness. I will wash away like the bones of a fish at the bottom of an old river. Time's rough waters will pick away at my stitched up flesh, the lovely current will tear the muscle and organs away from my frail bones, and then, after my scales and fins have been long gone, the water will tenderly caress the remains of my once-stable body. I will become nothing more than a mother's child who lost his way and became a delusional scientist.

Ha. Inhale, hold it. Pull off my glasses; rub the bridge of my nose. Exhale, put the glasses back on.

In any case, the undeniable truth was that I could no longer scrape by on a cigarette and tightening my bolt. It won't remediate my incurable plague. I could feel the madness tearing at the delicate stitching that held my brain together. The madness tugged at every fragment of my skull, looking for a way to completely intoxicate my entire body with the virus. I did not want to lose. I wasn't ready to leave yet-not today, not tomorrow, not next week-I needed more time…more.

I sat in my old office chair and finished off my cigarette. While I was enabling myself to succumb to my addiction, how much progress had the damned madness made? I wondered what Spirit would think of me if he saw me in this state of being. Would he be sympathetic or would he say I reaped what I had sown? I didn't believe I deserved this. Spirit's lovely body allowed me to conduct countless experiments.

His skin used to be completely unmarked by my hand. I remember the feeling of ecstasy when I first allowed myself to puncture his skin and examine his organs. I slid my knife across his skin, smearing blood all over his body and clothes. He didn't catch on with my nightly experiments until he discovered that his perfectly pure skin was covered with inexplicable scars and stitches. I still hear the screams and curses that Spirit spat at me when he finally connected the dots and found that the now prominent ridges of scars on his body were placed by me.

I used to think that it was a hobby to cut open people's bodies to discover what lay inside their silky encasement of skin. Then it became an obsession to experiment, dissect, and observe their beautiful bodies. Once the madness poured into my body, the scalpel became my dealer and my experimentation became my drug. When that terrifying thought became a reality, I became Asura's pawn–almost completely drenched in the madness that consumed my psychotic mind.

I looked around to find my cigarettes. I lit a second and walked around my laboratory. I was sick of fighting, sick of being controlled by a source that I could never control. How could I? It cannot be seen, touched, smelled, or tasted. You could simply feel it in your very bones. Your heart races and your brain becomes filled with disturbing thoughts, your body heats up and you can actually feel the madness pulsing in your veins, arteries, and capillaries.

Veins. Arteries. Capillaries.

Heart. Beating. Blood.

Bodies. Subjects. Contributions.

Experiments. Discoveries. Knowledge.

Dissection. Cut. Stitch. Cut. Stitch. Cut. Sti–

I grabbed my bolt and twisted until the truly grotesque thoughts flooded my brain and caused me to actually… Actually what? Experiment? Experimentation is the only way to build on what I already know to be true. Bodies contain beautiful organs and are complete with bones, skin, hair, eyes–true beauty. Hearts kept the bodies alive by pulsating the rich, hot blood. Veins would carry the blood… The blood makes a mess.

Why does blood scare you all? What is it that makes you cringe when you see it? Is it because it's red? That can't be, I know my students like the color red. Red is a fascinating color. Blood is red. Why be afraid then? Is it because it is a part of your body? Everyone has this warm liquid coursing through their body. Their bodies contain organs, like eyes and hearts and skins and… They have blood.

Blood is a sign of mortality.

Humans fear death.

They all know that they have to go through it, each of them will eventually die.

Why, then, do we become so preoccupied with our impending fate when we only have so long to enjoy the short time we have to live?

Inhale, hold it. Check the clock. Exhale, smile.

They fight, they have little time left, but they fight. Why? Because they do. It is in their nature, but why must they kill? They waste perfectly good test subjects. They shoot at each other–in anger, or in obedience? It's always about who has the most power, not who has done the most with their life. Mothers and fathers and children are torn apart by this fighting and shooting. For what? For power. The Kishin must be an advocate to the overwhelming desire for power. Power must be a source of madness.

Madness is taking over me. I am unstable. But I must keep it under control. If I sat in this cold lab for years on end, the madness would quickly engulf me in its warm shadowy body. Maybe I should just stop fighting. Maybe I should give in. Wouldn't that be easier? Less of a priority. The students need me to be sane, but to be sane I need the students. If they lock me away, I won't have the students and I will be without my only remaining anchor.

If. What if. That is a daunting word.

The real predicament is when.

It's obvious that I will become a threat to my students and everyone else. They'll lock me away without hesitation the minute I show signs of madness. Though, they're hypocritical because I've seen their souls. They're laced with madness, the souls each have their own spider of insanity. The spiders are lacing their silky poison web around the delicate exterior of their souls. Every day their spiders make a little bit of progress. A little bit of web is added to the souls each day. My spider is faster than the rest. My spider is a skilled seamstress and her red hourglass body is sleek and streamlined as to spin and encase my soul faster than the rest of them. She's hungry and once my soul is enclosed within her spidery casket, she'll devour it. I will essentially become the spider, hungry for insanity and madness. I will experiment on everyone, dissect everyone–even kill everyone.

They just don't understand this. They haven't realized the severity of this madness.

I think it's time for me to rest. My lab and my students do not provide a haven for my broken soul. My shattered reality causes me much pain. I am proud of what I have accomplished in my lifetime, but I wish I could have discovered more. Perhaps, next time I will be able to change the very pinnacle of science and the art of discovery. Maybe then I will be satisfied with my findings, my observation, my work.

I'm grabbing a cold metallic object, engraved into the side is my love's name.

They won't care. They don't even know.

I'm sorry Soul, I should've taught you more. I'm sorry Maka, I should've trained you better. I'm sorry Tsubaki, you must take my place as Black*Star's mentor now. I'm sorry Black*Star, you deserved more of my attention. I'm sorry Kid, you were the most exceptional student. I'm sorry Patti, I should've been kinder. I'm sorry Liz, you are a true role model, I should've realized. I'm sorry everyone, it's time for my goodbye.

This is my last experiment. I am my last patient. How far from the surface is my heart–filled with blood?

I'm cutting deep into my chest, I can feel the blood staining my clothes. I can feel the life pour out.

The widow has spun her web.

I'm planning on writing more to this

Ideas? Reviews?

Comments?

Thanks a million if you're reading this,

It really means a lot to me, thank you so much!

~Jane