The Principles of Disease
Characters: Kakuzu
Date: July 25
Location: A basement underneath Kakuzu's and Hidan's "establishment".
Warnings/Notes: R - Explicit imagery and disturbing concepts.
Summary: Seven down. Two more to go.
In another time, in another world, Kakuzu could've been someone else.
There was enough brains inside of his head to become someone, something. Maybe a doctor with the knack and precision that was good enough to be a surgeon. Or someone that worked in a morgue. Less pressure. Less annoyances. Less interruptions.
He'd like that.
In a dimly lit room, save for the blinding overhead light over the spread out body. There would be silence, just dead enough to compliment the cold white body on the table. With the exception of dark-skinned types, any body had the potential to transform into something close to the color of snow, with frozen black rivers underneath the surface. Like the body on the table in front of him at the moment.
The room he was in wasn't as spotless as he would've liked. White bathroom-like tiles lined the walls rather than stainless steel. A lone lamp with several largely lit candles complimenting it took the place of the large overhanging light.
White trash bags lined the floor, shuffling against each other whenever Kakuzu's pair of black oxfords moved, giving him a better angle for the incision. There were piles of red and black all over the floor, compiling small decomposing waste that would be dealt with later. Not with the useful imagined tool of a hose (maybe he could purchase a truck load of bottled water, an ironic thought) but maybe with a bucket and pail later.
But a knife, was a knife. And that was all he needed to work with.
The most basic incision to start with was the Y-incision.
Page seventy-three. Paragraph seven.
...extend from the front of each shoulder to the bottom end of the breastbone. The tail of the Y extends from the sternum to the pubic bone and typically deviates to avoid the navel...
His knife only misses the navel by a couple of centimeters. The dark pen lines etched within the frail and soft human skin were guidelines, but not particularly to be followed.
..The incision is very deep, extending to the rib cage on the chest, and completely through the abdominal wall below that...
It only took a firm hold on the handle to rip through the diaphragm, black blood oozing out in the knife's wake.
The skin from this cut is peeled back, with the top flap pulled over the face.
The knife makes a soft metallic sound as it is placed back into the small tin on the side table adjacent to the larger one. The waters within it immediately churn together to make a color close to black ink; a mixture easily to dry up if not treated with the right chemicals. Kakuzu has noticed this before, and he has never thrown out the mixture. He gets a nice price for it at the pen maker's factory up in Celo.
Blood should never spilled for no reason.
Another intricate pattern of dots and lines furnish the plastic covered floor as a ragged piece of skin covers the icy stare of the face. He'd save the brain for last if he didn't find it within the upper torso. It was only right to justify the look of complete agony on the woman's face. Even if the moment of rigor mortis had passed, the expression stayed frozen. Kakuzu never really believed in succumbing into the guilt some felt when they stared within the glassy eyes of the dead, so he left them open.
Black blood stained pale yellow colored gloves as Kakuzu reached into the mess of organs before him. As he had discovered only through the readings of Sasori's books, there would be a beacon coupled with the device. And as he had discovered through the other bodies piled against the door of the refrigerator behind him, it was easy enough to find it with a dim enough light.
Within this man's body, he found it within a section of the spinal cord, the mere fact that it was lodged within the dense structure of bone was a silent warning of how advanced Curia's finest technology was capable of. The faint red light shining from the piece of bone was enough to cement the location of the microchip.
He wasn't aware of the bead of sweat that bled down the side of his face, waking him up from his methodical work, a slight stupor that could be compared to a machine; a sleepwalker. And he wasn't aware of his breath being automatically held in place when the section of the bone was being placed along the flat of his knife, balancing precariously between silvery edges.
With another shudder, the piece of bone was placed within a separate container than where Kakuzu had dipped his knife into earlier. It was laid to rest with a fragment of an ear, a segment of a tongue, a portion of the ventricular valve of a heart, a thin slice of a kidney, a member of a man's sex organ, and a shred of a beautifully colored iris.
All of them were magnificently lit, each of them beating with their own rhythm; some to a quarter beat, one flashing with the symphony of eighths.
Red lights danced over the gaunt face of the surgeon before white plastic gave way to his feet as he returned back to the body for the last time.
Page ninety-seven. Paragraph three.
...the head and body are then sewn up. The brain is returned to the body, except in the cases where the brain has been retained for further tests...
Begin.
Date: July 25
Location: A basement underneath Kakuzu's and Hidan's "establishment".
Warnings/Notes: R - Explicit imagery and disturbing concepts.
Summary: Seven down. Two more to go.
In another time, in another world, Kakuzu could've been someone else.
There was enough brains inside of his head to become someone, something. Maybe a doctor with the knack and precision that was good enough to be a surgeon. Or someone that worked in a morgue. Less pressure. Less annoyances. Less interruptions.
He'd like that.
In a dimly lit room, save for the blinding overhead light over the spread out body. There would be silence, just dead enough to compliment the cold white body on the table. With the exception of dark-skinned types, any body had the potential to transform into something close to the color of snow, with frozen black rivers underneath the surface. Like the body on the table in front of him at the moment.
The room he was in wasn't as spotless as he would've liked. White bathroom-like tiles lined the walls rather than stainless steel. A lone lamp with several largely lit candles complimenting it took the place of the large overhanging light.
White trash bags lined the floor, shuffling against each other whenever Kakuzu's pair of black oxfords moved, giving him a better angle for the incision. There were piles of red and black all over the floor, compiling small decomposing waste that would be dealt with later. Not with the useful imagined tool of a hose (maybe he could purchase a truck load of bottled water, an ironic thought) but maybe with a bucket and pail later.
But a knife, was a knife. And that was all he needed to work with.
The most basic incision to start with was the Y-incision.
Page seventy-three. Paragraph seven.
...extend from the front of each shoulder to the bottom end of the breastbone. The tail of the Y extends from the sternum to the pubic bone and typically deviates to avoid the navel...
His knife only misses the navel by a couple of centimeters. The dark pen lines etched within the frail and soft human skin were guidelines, but not particularly to be followed.
..The incision is very deep, extending to the rib cage on the chest, and completely through the abdominal wall below that...
It only took a firm hold on the handle to rip through the diaphragm, black blood oozing out in the knife's wake.
The skin from this cut is peeled back, with the top flap pulled over the face.
The knife makes a soft metallic sound as it is placed back into the small tin on the side table adjacent to the larger one. The waters within it immediately churn together to make a color close to black ink; a mixture easily to dry up if not treated with the right chemicals. Kakuzu has noticed this before, and he has never thrown out the mixture. He gets a nice price for it at the pen maker's factory up in Celo.
Blood should never spilled for no reason.
Another intricate pattern of dots and lines furnish the plastic covered floor as a ragged piece of skin covers the icy stare of the face. He'd save the brain for last if he didn't find it within the upper torso. It was only right to justify the look of complete agony on the woman's face. Even if the moment of rigor mortis had passed, the expression stayed frozen. Kakuzu never really believed in succumbing into the guilt some felt when they stared within the glassy eyes of the dead, so he left them open.
Black blood stained pale yellow colored gloves as Kakuzu reached into the mess of organs before him. As he had discovered only through the readings of Sasori's books, there would be a beacon coupled with the device. And as he had discovered through the other bodies piled against the door of the refrigerator behind him, it was easy enough to find it with a dim enough light.
Within this man's body, he found it within a section of the spinal cord, the mere fact that it was lodged within the dense structure of bone was a silent warning of how advanced Curia's finest technology was capable of. The faint red light shining from the piece of bone was enough to cement the location of the microchip.
He wasn't aware of the bead of sweat that bled down the side of his face, waking him up from his methodical work, a slight stupor that could be compared to a machine; a sleepwalker. And he wasn't aware of his breath being automatically held in place when the section of the bone was being placed along the flat of his knife, balancing precariously between silvery edges.
With another shudder, the piece of bone was placed within a separate container than where Kakuzu had dipped his knife into earlier. It was laid to rest with a fragment of an ear, a segment of a tongue, a portion of the ventricular valve of a heart, a thin slice of a kidney, a member of a man's sex organ, and a shred of a beautifully colored iris.
All of them were magnificently lit, each of them beating with their own rhythm; some to a quarter beat, one flashing with the symphony of eighths.
Red lights danced over the gaunt face of the surgeon before white plastic gave way to his feet as he returned back to the body for the last time.
Page ninety-seven. Paragraph three.
...the head and body are then sewn up. The brain is returned to the body, except in the cases where the brain has been retained for further tests...
Begin.