The light of life... It's an interesting concept, right? Something that people look into more than once in their lives when they're faced with the brutal reality that their lives were slowly slipping away. It was like a candle burning. Inevitably, there would be no more wick left to burn and thus the flame would drown out in a sea of wax. It's enough of a thing to make someone unable to breathe, to cause them to look for a way out, or hell, enough to make someone work their bodies so hard that they would be in so much pain that they would not remember the fate that slowly crept up on them. With feet stuck in the burning wax, the decaying systems failing one right after the other, the panic sets in and clouds the mind. Is it not true that the people who are stuck in their own minds have the best kind of death? Whether it be sleep or Alzheimer's disease that was trapping the within their mind, the pain would be dull and they would be trapped in a far better place. The heart races, the anxiety sets in deep, and you almost feel like your chest is going to collapse in on itself even at the mere thought of the darkness at the end of the tunnel. The light of life keeps that tunnel from dimming, keeps a person warm. With the light, it's like there's escape and one can just sit there in the middle road instead of tumbling their way out of existence into a simple six foot hole in the ground. Oh, the morbid thoughts that people amused themselves with are simply grand, aren't they? Thankfully, though, the darkness would not catch up at this point in time. No, rather, the entity of death would be evaded and left behind with no second thought like victims it rends with it's hands. Now, how can one sit themselves down in the middle of the road? What is this secret to life that no one seems to be giving out? Oh, it was nothing too incredibly big, but a certain man knew the secret to keeping that clinging hold onto life. It was, and always would be chakra and the proper training of it. It just depended on how a person would use their chakra. Would they burn it out uselessly or build themselves up? Who knew.
The moon loomed up high in the sky now, dimly lighting the area. It was a full moon, one that made ivory beams dance across the sky and entangle with one another. Foot steps echoed, but most people were heading their way out for the occasional party or to go to bed. For some, though, the work would continue on. They would take their work home with them whether it be in the mind or in their arms or hands. A clutching grip or a loose hold on that work that they may or may not be invested in to. For the dark haired man known as Kazuhiko, his work was something that he was incredibly invested in. It was something that allowed him to bathe in the blood of others, to hear cries of agony that he so sought, and to see the chaos of death spread over the land. It was something that he could not help but adore so deeply to his very core. In his home, he held on to a little bit of a clinic there for his toys that he brought home. Did they not deserve to be properly cared for? Oh, he so believed that they did. So if they had an accident, he would fix them up. If they somehow ended up sick or weak, he would cure this ailment. Albeit he may berate them a little, but that was a given from a man with his demeanor. A thick boot would raise up and he would use that boot to easily force open the half closed door. See, he had left his house knowing that his goal would be achieved. So, hopefully no one died in Stone while he was off creating misery and spreading it around like a plague. After all, he gave no confidence to any of the other medical shinobi of the village. They were all beneath him and worth less than shit. Hell, in his mind, he could even consider having them all dismissed so he could take care of all the work here in the village with no fuck ups, but that wouldn't be very efficient now, would it? Not at all. So he'd let those little shits take care of his clinics while he went out to play. Every madman needed a break. So why not him? So he would take that well deserved break now.
His shoulders would roll now with slight cracks and pops as he made his way to the very downstairs area of his home. The floorboards would creak and crack with the strain of old age as he walked across the floor. He was sure to pull and lock the door behind him while taking care to the man that he brought along for the party. The main event. Didn't everyone dream about being the main event? He believed it to be so, even if he did not dream of such things. He knew he surely had illusions of grandeur when he was younger, but now he was satisfied with the choices made here and there. He would make his way over to the door to the basement, pushing it open and making his way down the steps. The wood would groan in certain agony underneath the weight of the two men. Now, of course, Karurosu had been malnourished, but Kazuhiko was able bodied and trained in the art of the body and it's movements. He would continue his trek down the stairs, one of the steps even sending up a small plume of sawdust up into the air, only to rain back down on the step and the man's dark boots. The man was very sure to make sure that the person that he had brought along for the ride was still living, even if barely. He needed the heart to beat, to keep on ticking like a timer. So his trained ears would listen in for each dull thud of the heart as it came. Blood had to be forced through those veins of Karurosu somehow, and he was not against mouth to mouth and chest compressions to keep that happening. He had plans, and those plans were brilliant, but absolutely mad. After all, it was not often that he got to play. Maybe once a month or so at the most. Any more than that and people would notice some kind of pattern of visitors or people going missing. Just a sigh would pass from his lips now. It was always with the god damn patterns now, wasn't it? Everyone had to be some kind of shitty little detective. It was not even cute. Half of them did not even have the brain power to keep from shitting themselves if the situation warranted it. Of course, the illustrious Guardians were not helping with the cause of powering the mind. Rather, they were dumbing the fucking shitheads down even more. Ah well, it was to be expected. That was what happened when people didn't think. Shit happens.
Flicking on a light, a buzz would echo and float through the room as the light did a dim roar to life. All of the tools and fixations would be lighted. It was a room that was very obviously cared for. An examination table reflected a good amount of light from it's metal surface, bouncing over to the chrome sink that was fixed into the wall. The floor was white tile, something that was easy to bleach away any blood that might fall down to the ground in one of his misadventures. There was a porcelain white tub with a curtain hanging limply from a curtain rod fixture hanging from the wall. Oh, and there were drawers, cabinets, closets that housed supplies, sinister evil, and things to drive normal men into insanity. Like some kind of cliche horror movie, the light would give a buzz and a flicker as it attempted to sustain itself on the electricity that flowed to it. "Huh, might have to change that light out soon," the man would muse casually to himself as he approached the metal table, laying Karurosu face down on it. His hands would then attach themselves to whatever clothing that he had been wearing to conceal away his torso, and a ripping sound would echo throughout the room. "Personally, I still think that this body can be of some use even if the spine is trashed. . ." And much like a man named Sam from Holes, he would give a small 'hm'. "I can fix that." He'd state now, using his fingers to feel along the black and blue flesh where his fist had left the man struggling for his life. "I think you'll probably enjoy yourself far more when I'm done with you, though." Like any crazy person, he talked to himself. He had no one else to talk to. If someone like Junko were here, he would have enjoyed talking, but alas, the woman was not and he was here in solitude. Everyone knew that silence drove a man more and more crazy than what they already were. So the silence was not a kind thing to the psyche. Using his fingers, he would count out each and every component of Karurosu's spine, and he would use those fingers to set them back in the correct positioning in his spinal column. "Your L1 and your L2 are destroyed, and the shock reverberated up your T's, too. Unfortunate. I over-estimated what it would take to take you out." His tone of voice seemed a bit annoyed by the apparent lack of control he had, but soon he would remember the almost sluggish way that the mercenary had moved. It was not a good thing. "Or maybe you had been far more malnourished than what I had first anticipated? Still, this is my fault none-the-less. Even if it was deliberate. Unfortunate that a man would not care for his body properly. I know that I'll care for it far better than what you had ever hoped to." A small, dark chuckle would escape his lips as he began the process of healing up the broken spine.
It would expend a lot of energy, this much he knew for sure. It was a decent cause, though. Hell, it might have even brought a bit more vitality to the dying patient on his table. He pressed his fingers in deep. He could feel the bone suturing, stitching back up under the soothing touch. His hands glowed a gentle turquoise color, one that mirrored the intense coloration of his eyes. However, there seemed to be something more creeping behind the man's eyes at this point. Something that was darker, more bloodied. It was his insanity creeping up to light and it wanted a part of the action as he felt the spine begin to take a decent form once more underneath his healing care. At least it hadn't been reduced to bits and pieces anymore. But it was mainly to keep his heart beating for a bit longer while he went ahead and got some other things pushed on to the platform. Now, then. As the man worked, he could feel the life on the table growing less cold and more warm, like someone had re-sparked the pilot light. This was a very good thing, clearly. Humming a small tune as he worked, he would remove his hands from the bare flesh of Karurosu's back and take a bit of a step backwards. "Now normally with my patients, I go ahead and sanitize up, but I think you'll be fine with that I'll be doing. It won't be much longer now. It's a delicate procedure, but I found ways to make it more brutal." He would then knit his brow together and use his hands to roll the man over on to his now undamaged back. It had drained the Jashinist a bit, but not too much. He would be able to make a recovery here soon enough. He just had to pace over to a gurney now that was beside a closet and he would pull it open. Sitting down at the bottom of the closet was what looked like a husk of a human with a mess of red hair. He would reach down and pick it up now under the arms and he would place it on the gurney with a rather delicate touch. It was the form of a girl. He would reach up and brush the red hair back out of her face. The eyes were closed, and it almost seemed as if the doll was sleeping. It was spine chillingly creepy. He would push the gurney over to the fixed table in the middle of the room and leave enough space in between the two for him to squeeze through now.
With just a breath, he would look between the two and offer just a small smile. "You know, I always wondered how they felt when they wake up with that struggle, not knowing where they are, helpless. It is okay, though. It will be fine." Because he would be able to take care of this properly. He would make it all right. It was just a matter of whether or not the mind was strong enough to follow the heart along the journey, and he was sure that Karurosu after a good few hours of incredibly avid stalking would be able enough to make the journey complete. He only picked the people he was sure would be able to make their way.Turning his back to the doll, he would loom over the ex-Sennin now, a leer on his features as he began to lift his hand up with a slow ease. "It'll be over soon, then it will be completely up to you. I'm sure that you will find you can be a faithful follower soon enough. You don't want to know what happens to the people who choose to be defiant." Suddenly, Kazuhiko's hand shot down and plunged deep within Karu's chest cavity, the sick crackling of sinew and bone bouncing from one wall to another as the Jashinist's hand spread the bone with no remorse. A single beat, and his hand would hover there over the heart. Blood had spattered against his face and then against the unconscious man's face, and he would suddenly rip his heart free of it's confines, pulling arteries and other such things along with it. However, the heart was in tact. He was sure of that. He would not damage the fruit of the body. He gazed upon the struggling heart and took a breath. Admittedly, he would've loved to just take a bite out of that muscle, but he knew he had to abstain. That was something that he had failed on his first few tries of this experiment. The heart had been one of the best tasting of the body. Trust him, he had liver and pancreas before, after all. Now then, he would twist his body around, the pitter patter of blood falling to the floor would sound now and he would thrust the heart into the chest cavity of the feminine looking doll. He would carefully lock the heart into place, having it become attached to the doll to make it a living, breathing thing. Bringing his hands up now, he would look down upon the new creation.
If he hadn't had such steady hands, they would be shaking by about now as he watched through the lenses of the glasses he wore for working. Pressing his fingers against his lips, he would lick the first two digits free of the blood. It was the richest blood of the body there in the chest. It was incredibly flavor filled. He had to resist clearing his entire hand of the blood with his tongue. He had to take a moment to clean up and clear his head, after all. . . He had a guest who was arriving soon enough. It just depended on when she would wake from her pain induced slumber.
Oh, Princesses. They were so frail, weren't they?