A man, a young and dreadful man, once a child, was lying on his stomach. He was not a human but something far worse. A demon, a demon of sorts. That's what he was known as by those who were foolish enough to show him any amount of kindness.

"Ghk... ghh..."

His mouth had opened and a sickening and blood-filled liquid had poured out. His body, his chest, had a gaping hole where a heart should have been, a cavity that had been torn out by the hand of a madman. Despite that, he lived on, defying the known law of 'life'.

"I... I'm alive?"

He was not, his body, it was nothing but a vessel for that of an abhorrent parasite, a parasite that would not die.

"Ouch... that must hurt, does it not?" Someone's finger went through the hole that was his heart, although he felt nothing as the finger passed through, he reacted as if in great pain. His body jolted and he cried out, "Ghgh...! You bastard, how dare you...!?" The man tried to get a hold of the hand that had touched him, but his arms had long ago been taken. Not only his arms, but also his legs. Though, as much as he wanted to think of it as his body, he quickly realized that it wasn't his. This body he was in control of was an elaborate puppet that was controlled by someone else. And that person was someone that was long gone.

"No one will ever love you but you. No matter who you kill, no matter what you destroy, you will never be able to love anyone other than yourself. Now! On a scale of... one to five, with five being the most intense. How do you feel right now?" They spoke as their hand reached for the inside of the empty heart and pulled it out. The man watched as his own blood was being spilt and it was all for the purpose of a sick and twisted individual that had nothing else to do, "You should be happy. I am giving you the chance of a lifetime."

"...Ghgh... Please... No more! I promise not to kill or lie anymore, I-"

"Tsk, tsk. No, no, no, no, no. That won't do, how will you fulfill your dearest wishes, then?" The person asked Zabulus.

"W... What?"

"I said, how will you fulfill your wishes if you're dead? It's simple. If I were to leave here, you'd simply die, with your soul nowhere to go. This body you inhabit is long dead, and so will yours. Unless... You do something about it."

"H... Help! Help me, someone!" His cries went unheard, and his voice echoed in the dark void. He could feel himself dying, and his life slowly slipping away from his body, but there was no one to redirect his life to. After all, he wasn't being killed, he was simply dying of weakness.

"Oh, come on now! This isn't what you were meant for! You are not meant to just die in this dark and empty world. No. You are meant for something far more important." They grabbed Zabulus by the throat and pulled him up, his head dangling loosely in the air as he gasped for breath, his mouth agape in shock and horror.

"Let's see. What can you do? What are you supposed to do?" They inspected the amputated body that was once that of a peasant, now with the soul of a monster. "Oh! I have an idea! You see... There's this girl. A little girl, in fact, that I've grown quite fond of. Her name is Alice. And she is very, very special. Of course, you know her, how could you not? You were the one to torment her in the first place." They smiled at the dying man, a smile of pure malice.

"And I will make you her guardian. Her protector, if you will. Oh! This will be wonderful, wonderful, wonderful!" Suddenly looking down and dejected, they continued speaking, "On the contrary... that won't work. No, no, no, no, no. She hates you! You're hated by a person oh so loved and pure... So what are you going to do about it? Hmmm?" They released their grip and let him fall down to the ground as he began coughing and gasping for air.

"I have an idea! I will fix your broken and twisted body! That will surely help you! Yes! It will, I will make sure you live through the ordeal! Yes!" They walked to his body, "I am a doctor! A very, very, very, very, very, very good one! Now! Now! Now! Now! I shall heal your body!"

After a moment or two of preparation, a needle and a surgical thread was taken out from the darkness of a black box. A thread was placed through the eye of the needle, then it was tied. The black box was lit up by a single, small, dim light. A light that had no source to be exact; an unnatural and an unexplained light that was just simply there.

The needle went through his flesh, and he felt the prick and the pain, as he was stitched, sewed up like a torn cloth. Prick, pain, flesh, blood. Prick, pain, flesh, blood. Prick, pain, flesh, blood.

The pain was immense. But, as he was being fixed and stitched up like a torn rag, his mind, as well as his heart, had stopped hurting.

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Prick. Pain. Flesh. Blood.

It was as if the thread and the needle were sewing up a torn wound. As if the pain he was feeling was that of a healing wound, of a wound being mended. If he was being healed, then why did it hurt so? Was it the needle? Was it the thread? Or was it his body? He couldn't feel his heart and he couldn't feel the blood coursing through his veins.

It was as if his heart wasn't there. Right... it wasn't there.

But that was only for a second.

He could feel the prick and the pain and his body and mind slowly coming back. He felt like a human. He could feel his limbs and he could move his hands, fingers. "It's working... it's actually working!"

"Ooo! Good, good! That's what I like to see!" Their tone was one of excitement, "Now, let's continue."

"Wait, wait, wait! What are you doing? What is this? What is this for?" His voice sounded shaky and full of worry.

"What does it look like, my dear patient?" They held a long needle and a surgical thread in their hands. "You know, Zaig■, you've been so rude and so crude. I am fixing your broken mind. Your heart and soul have been damaged so badly. So badly. So badly that it needs fixing." They were fixing a mind, a soul that was not there, and a heart that was gone. "I need your indebted loyalty to me. I will fix your heart. And I will give you life, I shall give you the means of living again, for I have the means to fix a soul."

"What the hell are you going on about?" He attempted to jerk his arms and move his body, but to no avail, he couldn't, "What are you even talking about? What's a soul and a heart?" He had heard of these words before. And these were concepts he had learned about before. But for no reason, he felt the jail.

"A soul embedded with a heart that has been frayed, damaged and destroyed. It's not hard to see. I'm sure you've seen it yourself, or you wouldn't have asked such a silly question." They smiled, a wicked smile that could only belong to the devil, a beautiful smile that could only belong to an angel, "You're constituted of nothing but a broken soul. It is a sad story of a sad little boy who had nothing to begin with. But, you were a good little boy, and you did everything your parents told you to. You were obedient and good and a very, very good boy. Do you remember?"

"How did you-?" His eyes widened at the sudden revelation.

"Do not interrupt. It is very, very rude to interrupt people." Their face became that of anger, but then, it returned to a normal state of a calmness that was eerie. "Remember, child of the dead. Your parents did love you and did everything in their power to protect you, yet you were a terrible child and you did terrible things and as you grew up, you did more horrible things. And now you are paying for your actions, so-"

"Please! I will atone in any way! Just, please, help me live!" His words were of a man that was begging and desperate.

"Oh~? What will you do for me?" Their tone was that of curiosity.

"I'll... I'll... do whatever you want!" His voice was full of fear.

"Too bad! You were rude, very, very rude. You interrupted me again!" Their antics grew stranger and their words grew strange. They grabbed a long needle and threaded it with the surgical thread and they proceeded to sew his body up, "You're just as bad as your parents... No, your mother. Do you know her name?"

"H-her name? No... No... No! Why would I care for such things!?"

"Oh! So sad! Your mother loved you so dearly, she even named you after a hero. You're so rude, so very, very rude. Do you even care about the ones that cared for you?" They shook their head in disapproval and disgust. They were about to pierce the skin of his torso when suddenly, they stopped and looked him in the 'eye', a contortion of flesh that had a vague shape of an eye socket with an eyeball in the middle. The blackness of the socket and the eyeball in it, "No, no. This is no fun. You, you, you! You have to kill that man within you! That inexperienced, useless man that is not you! He is a useless, worthless, and a horrible piece of trash. You must kill him."

"I-I can't do that!" His voice was shaking, "H-he's a part of me! I vowed to be a better person and... And I can't kill him!"

"Yes, you can. You're not a weak little boy who doesn't know the difference between right and wrong. You are a grown man. A strong man." They pointed their needle at him and pierced his heart. But there was nothing to pierce, either way. "I will kill him, for you, if that's the case."

"LET ME GO!" He struggled to break free from their grip, but he couldn't. "I can't kill him! I can't do that to someone!"

"Really, now? Are you sure?" They asked as they sewed up pieces of his skin and flesh to create a heart. "What about Anne? Why would you kill a child- A child that had no purpose in this world?"

"Stop!" His words were desperate, but his words had not come from him. "That was an accident... She died in an accident... I'm sorry!"

"See, now you're lying. Those feelings you had at that moment, they were that of someone who enjoyed killing. You're a liar. I know that much." They continued to sew and stitch up his body, and as they sewed, the stitches became smaller, more precise and more detailed, like a surgeon operating on a patient, "A person, that's a lie and is soon to be the embodiment of the concept. That's what you are, now, what happens if I kill you, I wonder!"

The question may as well have been a statement.

"Wait! Stop!" His words, once again, came from someone else. Not from his own mind, "You can't kill me, you're a healer!"

"Yes. Yes. Yes. You clearly know what I am, but........ eh!" He shrugged as he held the sewn heart in his left hand, crushing it and effectively killing the anomaly. "I'm the doctor. I'm the doctor. I'm the doctor." He muttered, and he continued muttering, "I'm the doctor. I'm the doctor." Over and over again, like a mantra. "That sounds funny... doesn't it?" Vadim spoke only to themselves as nobody else was in the room. Nobody else but a corpse and the remnants of a dead man. "A person who kills is a doctor." They chuckled at the irony and absurdity of the thought. "That sounds funny... doesn't it?" A chuckle came from their mouth as they placed the heart back in the man's chest. "Now, let me see it, deceit, what have you got in your frayed heart, your frayed being?"