He held the deceased man by the foot, dragging him along like boy scout would a classic red wagon. Venomous snakes glided through the water, adding their discreet sound to an orchestra of rustling leaves and disturbed dirt. The swamp was eerily silent at times. Except, of course, when it was filled with human screams and the soft buzzing of lab equipment. He wasn’t sure what he liked better… the silence, or the screams. He supposed it depended on his mood.

As he walked through the maze of mush and trees, he came to his destination. The normal rank air was assaulted by the putrid stench of decomposition. Upon closer examination, it became apparent why. On a dry patch of land there was a garden. It contained women and men and even children, all in different stages of decay. Some had dwelled there for years, their bones were free of meat or expression. Others were more recent; you could make out hair and bits of clothing. Others still retained their internal organs or bits of skin. Then you have the new guy. Decay had not reached him yet. Just the scalpel that mangled his once united body.

The man dragged the new addition to lay by the other men. It was important to categorize them all neatly. If he didn’t do that, it would look like a mindless massacre. But no, there was method to his madness. He took a step back to admire his corpse garden. It was so beautiful. There was a time when all these people were so hard to understand. But he fixed that. He took them apart, probed their bodies and minds. Now he understood them. That was all he wanted. He just wanted to understand. He just wanted to dissect.

His gaze shifted to the path he had just traversed. It was freshly painted with blood. He admired the way his friend’s blood recolored the dully colored leaves. Through the man’s sacrifice, these leaves were given a ghostly illusion of life. It was a lovely façade. Simply lovely. He could’ve stayed there forever, but it was time to head back. It was almost time to play another game. The knowing game.

He smiled coldly. Perhaps this was the time his opponent would win. It was unlikely, but only time would tell. It was a girl, this time. He heard that women were supposed to be complicated creatures. They would drive men insane because of their unsolvable nature. He didn’t quite believe that. Every woman he met was annoying and unexciting. Their high-pitched screams gave him a headache when he sliced through their skin, but their shallow pettiness never intrigued him enough to keep him from ripping them apart. He didn’t understand why men enjoyed them so much. The whole thing seemed woefully idiotic. They were such pathetic beings.

He sighed and glanced down at his lab coat. It had gained a new stain. The bright red splatter stood out against the other sienna splotches, creating a patchwork of assorted blood art. The very top of his coat remained an off white, while his hem to the lower part of his torso screamed death. The hem of his sleeves were dyed crimson as well. It was quite apparent he was a maniac. A monster.

His coat also contained numerous chaotically fixed tears. Each had been stitched back together with black thread. It stood out against the dry brown and white.

It was about time to head back to the facility. She would be waking up soon. They always freaked out when they woke up in the lab. He supposed it was a natural reaction.

His lab was completely white. It was an abandoned facility with dull metal doors and bars on every miniscule window. The hallways were long and the rooms were numerous. It was a cross between an asylum and a prison, with a little science thrown in. Because of neglect, it was laden with stains and cobwebs. There was dirt and blood and mold and unidentifiable substances of everykind. Some doors were rusted. Some rooms still held the bones of prior inhabitants. Not to mention the fact it was located in a swampy woodland, far from any other living soul. It almost seemed like a haunted hospital from a horror movie.

Halting his train of thought, he placed his hands in his pockets and started back to the laboratory. He wondered how many more times he would have to play the game.

Everything had had been dark for a really long time. It seemed like nothing was going on around her, but she knew stuff was happening. She didn't know what it was, but it was unfamiliar. Soon light was getting through to her as if someone was opening the curtain that was blocking out the light.

With her eyes now wide open she could see that she wasn't back home like she thought she was. Her body was still numb as she was taking in the surroundings around her. It was pure white as if coated with a fresh paint. The table she was on was metal and cold as she lies on it.

The rest of her body started to wake up and she was able to twitch her left index finger. Next her right thumb moved around and soon she was about to move her legs. Slowly, she pushed herself into a sitting position to get a better look at the area she was in. It didn't change from when she was laying down, except for the eerie feeling of being trapped. She threw her legs off the table and stood up.

Looking down at herself, the clothes she remembered from earlier were still intact. The blue jeans have faded and had some dirt on them, while the shirt had been wrinkled and messed with. Her hair was all over the place, but it wasn't anything that she couldn't fix with her hands. While smoothing out the knots in her hair she noticed the door staring back at her. Against her will, the door was pulling her towards him and before she could register what she was doing, she turned the knob.

It wasn't locked. It wasn't holding her completely prisoner. Maybe she was meant to leave. Or maybe her doom rounded the corner. She released the door handle and shifted back to the table she woke up on. Leaning against it she thought about her option, but there weren't many. She could leave the room and risk death. Or she could stay here and still risk death. She could even leave and escape safely, but that didn't seem possible. The two options that seemed more apparent ended with her joining God in heaven. She would rather not. A sigh escaped her lips and she just stared at the door. Not making a move toward it. She was watching to see if someone would walk in. Counting down the moments of when her life would be terminated.

It wasn’t long before he returned to his strange home. The cold metal doors were waiting for him, unlocked and uninviting. So much time had passed since the first time he saw those doors. But nothing had changed, really. It was always the same. It would always be the same. That’s what he believed.

Walking up to the greenish double doors, he pushed them open and stepped inside. There weren’t any odd noises to indicate the girl was awake. Maybe she was just quiet, though. They were usually silent when they didn’t know what was going on. He pulled out an old timepiece from his coat pocket, checking to see if the anesthetics would have worn off yet. There was a good chance they did.

Flipping the watch closed, he continued his stroll to the room he had left her in. The entire facility was deathly silent. The sound of his boots hitting the fake tile floor echoed throughout the building, much like a shiver travels down a spine. He walked slowly…distractedly. It took a few minutes for him to reach the metal door that held his next research subject. His new entertainment.

Reaching out a hand and grasping the door knob, he turned it slowly. There was breathing on the other side. He could hear it. She was there.

The door opened outward, towards him. After the hinges allotted a 90 degree rotation, he remained in the doorway. His gaze wandered over her. It was important to analyze them immediately. Dr. Cantrell taught him that. It was important to scrutinize everything. It was important to never miss a single detail.

The scientist was a creepy person. The bloodied lab coat was the only first impression most needed. If that wasn’t enough, he’d scare you with his words. At this moment, however, he remained silent. Conversation wasn’t a pastime he enjoyed. It was avoided whenever possible, but the game called for a lot of it. He had surrendered to that fact long ago… but he still put it off when he could. It scared people when he just stood in the doorway staring at them, but what did he care? Life wan’t about making friends.

There he was. Right outside the door taking his precious time to open it up. Her heartbeat increased as the door knob turned and the door disappeared replaced with a man. He stood there before her, staring. He didn't make any movements toward her or even attempt to speak to her. Just staring. With his staring she felt dirty. Like there was something imperfect on her that he wanted to remove. A shiver crawled down her spine touching each nerve as it passed.

The look in his eyes was almost in a way you would stare at a science experiment. Like you were trying to figure out what it was, what is going to do, what it was thinking, and how it would react. She was his lab experiment. She was his to do whatever he wanted and the first thing he was going to do was observe. Not a sound came from her as she watched him, watching her.

Her eyes shifted all over the man standing before her. The first thing that grabbed her eyes was the blood stained lab coat he was wearing. The blood looked dried up, but there was one spot that seemed fresh. It disgusted her, but she didn't let it show. But with him still standing there staring, not saying anything was scaring her quite a bit. She couldn't tell what kind of move he was going to make or what he was thinking. Or even why he was doing what he was doing. All she could get from him was that he was satisfied with the experiment.

Her imagination ran wild as she thought about the things he would do to her while she was in here. Would the next blood stain on his lab coat be hers? The thought alone made her uneasy. She shifted her gaze looking down at her feet. She lost the observation game. He out observed her and probably learned a lot more than she could. Her head picked back up and her gaze dropped back down the new stain. "Who was that?" she asked allowed referring to the stain.

She didn't know where the question came from. She doesn't know why the question came out. She doesn't even know why she cares. Maybe deep down if she knew then it would help, but she highly doubted it. Maybe she was just sick of the silence. The reason no longer matters because the question was out there waiting to be answered.