Really, what's a bit of graverobbing between friends? If the dead person isn't using their body, then why can't Masacrik just sort of... Do a bit of recycling? Granted, he's never met the person whose grave he's currently digging up, but doesn't the saying go that strangers are just friends you've never met yet?

Yes, in fact it does. Probably.

Not that that'd stop Masacrik, partly because he's already a third of the way through, but also because it's not like he has any other choice when it comes to procuring bodies.

Eventually (it takes longer than he'd care to admit), he manages to drag you back to his basement lab and sets you on the operating table, brushing his pink hair out of his face and changing into some more casual attire before beginning the procedure.

Knee-high white socks with pink hearts on them and a teal shirt underneath a lab coat. Honestly, if Masacrik weren't a mad scientist, he's sure he'd be able to pull off being a fashion trendsetter.

After a nice cup of coffee, Masacrik sets to work. He's not entirely sure what he's out to do, but he happens to save some spare skin from a few cats and skin grafting is no worse a start to an experiment than anything else.

And then it hits him. What if, in his infinite genius, he manages to bring a dead person back to the world of the living? And then take it apart to see how it ticks.

Now, Masacrik is not sure at all what the events leading up to your eyes flying open were, since at that point, he hadn't slept for over two days, which also may have contributed to the fact that as soon as your gaze landed on him, he panicked and hit you in the head with a highly conveniently placed baseball bat.

He simply stared at you for what might have been the longest minute of his life before his mind caught up to the present.

You're alive again. Your eyes opened, and you looked at him with such adoration (or was it confusion?) that it made Masacrik's stomach twist into knots.

And then, Masacrik does the only normal thing he can do in this situation. Come up with an excuse to not dissect you right away, severs a few nerves in your legs to make walking a hell of a lot harder, and removes a finger from both of your hands, making them look like some kind of character.

Then, he does what he should have done a day and a half ago, and passes out in his chair for a good few hours, only to wake up and find you staring at him, his pink eyes meeting your wide ones.

Silence fills the lab for a moment, before a grin stretches across Masacrik's face. "Hey, little one! I bet you're wondering what's going on, aren'tcha?"

Masacrik isn't exactly sure why he lies to you, telling you that you're his creation, made for the sole purpose of being his assistant, but he does. And, it makes him feel better.

Better about himself, about life, about everything. He has power over this seemingly amnesiac creature that he himself wrangled back to the world of the living, and really, Masacrik has never felt so good.