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Twelve: To Vanquish Madness

Here I am now. Wearing my blue suit and golden mask, I head to the front door of the asylum. Agnarge Asylum was founded by a doctor trying to push health to the mind, named Gottfried Agnarge. He was married to a Symphonian named Melissa. After tragedy in the family brought by murder, he created an asylum for those who are mentally unwell. Upon the building being erected, he named it Carrie Agnarge Asylum For The Mentally Unstable, after his late daughter. Behind the building is a memorial of her. Over the years of examining lunatics that seem impossible to help, he was afraid that he would be driven mad as the murderer that claimed Carrie's life. He lived in the walls of the asylum for years, relying on the presence of the nurses as well as a journal to keep his sanity in check. The day after his wife's passing, as if tested to his breaking point, he slit his own throat with a glass shard from a window that he broke.

What a sour reputation that this place has built. Gottfried would be stirring in his grave if he knew what his asylum was used for now. It worked so well in its first few years that the borough was named after him after his death, but now this borough has been defiled by the poor who are too far gone to be redeemed.

I knock on the door, and I need not wait long for it to be answered. I see a Shorthair calico open the polished wooden door. She seems to be brown with black stripes and a white chin. She wears a wide-skirt sky-blue satin dress with white cuffs and a black collar. She asks, "What business seek you here?"

"First", I answer. "I need to speak with you. I have questions."

"I am busy keeping the inmates in check. I've no time to talk." She is about to close the door, but I stop it with one hand.

I press, "This is important. If you despise Diefenbach, yeh'll 'ear me out." The cat lets go of the door. So, I enter.

What I enter is something to resemble a mess hall of a mansion. The floor and wall are covered by polished wooden planks. There are two sets of stairs, leading to a part of a hall on the upper level. On each side of the chamber is a single potted tree. I ask the cat, "Are you the lead nurse of this place?"

"Aye", she answers, looking over her shoulder. "Not that it does me any good. Even I am forced t-lick the guards' boots."

"What is your name?" I ask.

She says plainly, "Marianne Benson."

I speak as she leads me to the east wing, "Well, Miss Benson, I am aware of a terrier that was sent 'ere under false pretences." She unlocks the wooden door of the carpeted hall, and it leads to an unexpected transition. The walls and floor onward in this narrow hall are covered by grey-blue tiles with glass walls with plastic frames for the openings. I see the spaces behind the glass by various mammals looking depressed or weary. I continue, "I saw rim brought 'ere by one Garvan Reilly--jailed now--claiming that the terrier's mind is to undo itself. I followed 'im 'ere t-know that."

Benson replies without looking back, "He's told me that lie more times than you assume. Here, in the low-security wing, is where I keep those to be unfortunate to be brought 'ere by Reilly and a few other officers from other boroughs."

I inquire, "What can you do about that?"

She stops and turns back to me, to tell me, "Nothing. The warden has me handcuffed. It's hard to prove that these individuals were commissioned as residents by lies. If you ask them all, they'll tell you the same thing."

I infer, "That they call out a criminal tricking a relative into slavery." I go into the story of the dog calling out the Tirrell sisters and getting falsely detained by Reilly.

"Tha's whot they tell the nurses", she answers. "But I told yeh, we kin do nothin' about it." Another cat enters, who is a nurse, based on the white apron and white cuffs on her green dress. She rolls a wooden trolley with small trays, using a plastic cover to protect the food from grime and dust.

Benson requests to this cat, a Longhair tabby, whose mane is tied, "Would you care to inform our guest whot you are ordered t-do, feeding the patients?"

She is afraid, probably from my mask and unmatching eyes, but she speaks, "At best, breakfast for oll patients, regardless of condition, is porridge and berries. At best, lunch is a sandwich with stale bread. Dinner depends on the season. In serving each meal, I need t-give them drugs, regardless of their condition as well. However, I have long since defied the order t-give the drugs to these 'patients', for they need it not." How right she is. There is nothing mentally wrong about these mammals.

Benson then states, "Do carry on, dear." The Longhair does so, hastily.

"Whot can yeh tell me of the warden?" I ask.

Benson walks with me as I seek the dog and explains, "He gave up long ago on this place. The asylum wos scheduled t-be demolished seven years ago, only for the estate to be bought by an unknown investor. By that time, Diefenbach applied as lead surgeon, and wos not questioned of 'is background." I stop at the one cell with the terrier that I saw in Solmil, and he already looks worse for wear, his pelt matted. "My nurses are forced to clean up after his gruesome experiments", Benson continues. "There 'ave bin nurses ter 'ear one word from 'im and quit. In fact, he is why we are forced t-feed drugs to oll patients. Part of 'is personal research."

I turn to the calico to state, "I am aware of who funds Diefenbach's personal research. I 'ave killed members of 'is cartel t-get to 'im. The mad doctor is next."

The calico narrows her eyes before she replies, "I know to whom you refer. When you are done, find me at the high-security cell block. It's in the south row, upper level." She dismisses herself, leaving me alone to see the terrier.

I look intently to him, calling, "Oi. Whot's yer name?"

The terrier seems as if he has woken from a long sleep and he approaches the glass wall. He says plainly, "Corey..."

I tell him, "I listened t-you call out the Tirrell sisters in Solmil. I know whot you told them."

He scoffs, "Lo' a good it did me."

"Whot happened? How did they trick your sister?"

The terrier sighs before going into detail: "Me sister and I were oll we 'ad as pups. We lived on the streets, doing whot everyone in the Artists' Land does fer easy money. We were inspired t-be dancers, the moments of us bonding. We'd work freelance, for the theatres did not take us seriously enough to perform, even when we grew up. So, we would sign short-term contracts to make our living.

"Then, after a day of performing in Theatre Square, those two damned rabbits approached us. I swore to protect me sister for all these years. That day was over year ago, when they split us up. Me sister wos only fifteen. They presented her with a contract, but not a contract fer me. So, we were at a crossroad. The rabbits claimed that the place of their recommendation wos desperate. It sounded too good to be true, but desperation got the best of us. She signed 'er life away... Even worse wos that we could not read...

"We learnt too late to whom me sister signed her life away. My sister wos forced into labour at a brothel in Manusdale, owned by someone as feculent as those rabbits... And I could not help 'er. The bitch of a madame is wealthy from being a cartel member..." He looks down, his muzzle looking droopier than it normally is.

I inquire, "Know you whot happened t-yer sister?"

Corey looks up again, his eyes looking glassy. He continues, "I know that she went through bloody 'ell. That is all. However, the borough's police found 'er body washed up from River Numo, with a fatal dose of opium in her body. Four months after she signed the devil's contract."

I say plainly, "The Tirrell sisters are dead now. I made a show in Solmil East Theatre their last."

The terrier sighs. "It matters not. Even if you kill the bitch that owned my sister, I will be stuck 'ere."

"I still plan to kill 'that bitch'. An' don' count on living the rest of yer years in this cell." I turn away and add, "There will ollways be someone ta take matters in their own hands."

I cannot say much about what I see of the rest of the residents in this hall as I head back to the chamber. I expect that they have been listening and wonder what I mean by my statement. These falsely commissioned patients act as if they can feel only despair. That is what holds them back. If one wants things to be better, they need to stand up straight, with their tails up and their ears forward... But they seem to fail to see that. I know that slaves who have encountered me were on the brink of giving up, if they hadn't already.

I am back in the mess hall when a cat calls to me, "Ma'am?" I look to my left, and there that cat is, another different one. She is a light-grey Shorthair. I approach her as she adds, "Ms. Benson told me to escort you to a certain cell in the high-security wing."

When a few centimetres apart from the light-grey cat, I tell her, "Lead the way, then." She seems to hunch over, blatantly intimidated by my appearance, not that I blame her. We go up the stairs in the centre of the room, those stairs splitting in two directions. We head to the left, and my boots against the polished floorboards are like a heartbeat. I remember to make my pace even with that of the cat in front of me. As we go along a hall with windows, I tell the cat, "You need not fear me. I attack only those who deserve it."

Without looking back, the light-grey cat replies, "Then I hope you beat that bastard Diefenbach whilst he dissects someone jus' to satisfy his bloodlust."

In the next hall is the high-security wing. She tells the guard in front of her, a flappy-eared black dog, "She's Ms. Benson's guest." The dog examines me, clearly tempted to use his club on me, but clearly wanting to avoid making a scene, he backs up and moves aside. I have my eyes on him as I cross the doorway, and then head into the hall--

Which turns to be terribly drab. The floor is so grimed that I can feel the soles of my boots stick to it. The walls are no better. The tiled half is caked with scum and the stone half is unpainted, nicks and cracks noticeable. I head to where I find the calico. The cells that I pass have the bars like a prison. One that I pass shakes himself, trying to wrest them out of the floor. There are others that I pass, being curled up on their beds, and those pacing in their cells.

The cell where I stop, where Benson is, I see a wolf. She states, "You want Giffard. You get Giffard."

I cannot believe it. This is Lord Giffard Lowell? He looks like no threat. There are rumours of him being a hybrid of Canis Lupus Arctos and Canis Lupus Centros. That is shown by his pelt, making him look like a mutt. He wears only his underpants. His pelt is mostly white. His limbs have licks of brown and grey. However, to stand out about him to me is his eyes: his left being bright yellow and his right being sky-blue.

(There is one day that I can call my worst day. The day of the worst thing to happen to me. Everything seemed so peaceful... until Clement burst in and slammed the door. He said bluntly, "We need t-leave. Now."

(My mother stood up instantly, leaving me more confounded that I was already. She spoke, "They found us? Tell me it's bollocks."

(Clement told her, "How they know is not important. Get whot y-kin take."

(I was tempted to empty my small cache, but I still needed answers. What the bloody hell was happening?

(Looking out the window, my mother turned to Clement, speaking, "I'm the one they want. Take my daughter and run." The hell I would go with him. The bastard. My mother continued, "Do as I say fer once, Clement. She needs her father."

(I barked, "No! If I'm going anywhere with anyone, it is you, Mum!" I continued as I gathered what money I gathered along with a few items that I could not part with, "Clement is not my father he never was. I ollways knew that. I'm better with you. I don' care whot bloody secrets yeh've bin keepin' I ollways saw me getting out of 'ere with you!" I placed my things in my bag, which I slung over one shoulder.

(Clement spoke, "No more time to argue. They're coming." My mother grabbed two kitchen knives and dashed out the door before I could rebut.

(I couldn't accept this. I could have gone with my mother, carrying a knife as well, but I had to get away from my step-father first to do so. Instead, I ran to the side, to the room used as a closet, where another window was, where I climbed out before I could be grabbed. I ran as far away as I could from the house.)

(In just a few minutes, I had a change of heart upon hearing gunshots ring. I sprinted back to the house, wanting to be with my mother again. I needed her comfort. However, upon returning, I saw the tragedy that had already struck.

(My mother put up a fight; I could give her that. The two kitchen knives that she used were decorated with blood already crusting. The three dogs laying on the ground had been sliced and stabbed multiple times, but my mother lay face-down on the ground, the splotch of blood on her back, her eyes open, but she was not breathing.

(I followed the instinct to go to Clement. I hated him, but I needed to see if he was all right. I was against the side wall, and I listened to some kind of conversation. I heard Clement speak, "Can you not see that you want to not kill me?"

(Another male voice barks, "You know nothing about whot I want, Berk!" I heard thudding, which told me of some kind of fight.

(Clement said as they continued their fight, "You are only being used, Giffard. Only your mother wants me dead. Not you."

(The other male objected, "You still took me wife from me." Wife? What could Clement have done to this individual. I peeked through the other window, where I would when hearing Gaston being beaten. I saw some kind of wolf. He had white fur, but his pelt wasn't as thick as that of an Arctic Wolf. I saw him brutally attack Clement, which prompted me to get down and hurry away from the house again. I just wished that this was some horrible nightmare.

(I realised only when hearing another gunshot, it was no dream. My mother is dead. Even with what danger was still there, I headed inside, relieved that the intruder was gone. I hurried to where Clement was, a bullet in his chest, but he still breathed.

(Tears started falling from my eyes when I said, "This cannot be happening."

("I'm sorry, Love", Clement rasped. "But it did."

(I made another realisation too late. Clement wanted to be the father I needed, and I tried to drive him away. I whispered, "Don't go..."

(He rasped. "Listen... Listen carefully... I need you t-be strong..." I listened intently. Clement continued, "There is a black... box... under the floorboards... under the table... Take oll its contents with you... Oll of it..." He paused, trying to breathe. He gasped, and then rasped. "Go... go to... V-Ventine... to... Mau-Re... S-Sanctuary... th-they... will 'elp yeh..."

(I didn't understand why he told me this, but I couldn't do it right now. I sobbed, trying to hold his heavy body as he tried his best to stay alive. "Clement...", I sobbed. "I'm sorry..." That was when he went limp. I could have gone after whoever killed my mother and step-father, but what he told me sounded more important.

(I found the loose floorboards, and then the box. I took that box in my bag, and then went to close Clement's eyes for the last time. I went back to my mother's body to close her eyes as well. I didn't look back at the house. I always hated it.)

"_This_is Giffard Lowell?" I want to not believe it, but I cannot deny it. This is the wolf. As there is no other known wolf with a black pelt and one violet eye, there is other known wolf with a white pelt and one blue eye.

The white wolf approaches the bars, smiling fiendishly. He comments, "I knew you would return. You always do." His hands are on the bars, acting no differently from the other maniacs in here. To him, I look familiar, but he has never seen me.

Benson nudges me to crouch, so she can whisper in my ear. "He's begun to feel the effects one of his own drugs. He uses a hallucinogenic every day when he's 'ere. Based on his memories, every wolf looks the same to 'im." That cannot be all, but she blatantly would rather show than tell. I stand up straight, looking into the white wolf's eyes. I have a chance to end it all now by killing Giffard here.

Giffard taunts, "I know whot y-want, Mother. So, try it." He sees his mother's face in the place of mine? Is that really how his own hallucinogenic works on him? "You know y-want ter 'urt me, Mother", he chuckles. "Lay yer 'ands upon me." I have my fists tight, but I do nothing. "D-you not want ter attack yer own son, who you made 'ate you? I expect no hesitation." This cannot hurt to be known. I play his game. I draw my left Khopesh and thrust through a gap in the bars, which should have been plunged into his mid-section, but he quickly backs up, chuckling. "So, now y-want t-kill me? Too bad. I may be in a cage, but you haven't the key." I sheathe my Khopesh. I am disappointed. Every crime lord has to emit intimidation, but this one does not.

I have no time to think on that for long, for another cat calls, "She needs ter 'ide. Nadine is coming." Nadine? Before I could ask that of Benson, she drags me by my hand to a different room separate from the cells. Benson slams the door and holds a finger to her mouth. She then whispers, "Just listen." This room turns out to be for inspection, based on the counter against a wall and another counter with a cushion on the opposite side. I stride past the counter in front of me, and lean against the wall, my left ear bent to the side.

I hear Giffard speak, "Nadine! I've bin wai' in'!"

"Of course you 'ave, Big Brother." I hear a female voice speak. Brother? How could I have missed that Giffard has a sister? I hear the lock and key rattle, followed by the bars sliding. I need to see this. I hurry out of the inspection room, and I see another wolf with a white pelt, wearing a burgundy business dress, in an embrace and kissing Giffard. I stop in shock at this.

Giffard, upon breaking the kiss, says, "Business first."

"Lauren and Rhonda are dead", the she-wolf speaks. "The mercenary Vadimir is still in pursuit of the killer, but our spy might 'ave failed. He expected our enemy in Subroot by now."

I quickly press myself against the wall where his cell is. Giffard replies, "The spy will tell Lieven when our enemy is there. If Vadimir finds 'er, I won't go back on my promise of the bounty."

The she-wolf responds, "But I am sorry to say that three of our allies in police are exposed. Oll in Solmil."

From peeking over the little cover that I have, I see Giffard undo the she-wolf's dress as he objects, "Let them rot in prison; whot officers we 'ave are expendable." I cannot run from the sight of this.

Whatever argument the two wolves have becomes irrelevant as they exchange a tongue kiss. The she-wolf is in only a white corset. Just like Giffard having licks of grey and brown along his limbs and sides, the she-wolf has tinges of grey and brown on her back, ears, and tail. I see that as Giffard undoes her corset without turning her around. They move to the bed as the she-wolf just lets the corset fall to the floor. Atop Giffard on the bed, she caresses him up and down his torso. I can see him cup her breasts. Even still, I cannot walk away from the sight of this.

Giffard and Nadine exchange tongue kisses again and caress one another. She has her arms on his back as he sits up. She cannot see me, for her back is to me. Nadine then moves to pull his underpants off, revealing Giffard's arousal. She tosses them aside after freeing his legs of them. I can see Giffard grin at me as Nadine laps her tongue over his bobber and cups his bollocks. Now, I can end my gander here. I dare not see how this hanky panky ends.

I just know that Benson catches up with me. I can hear her. She runs to catch up with me, and then jog to keep up with me. Benson says, "Understand why I wanted you t-see that."-

Stopping my stride and turning back, I interrupt, "I understand damn well why." All these years of preparing to track Giffard, to tear down his criminal empire. Did my intentions bar me from the fact that he has a sister? "How long has Giffard bin comin' 'ere?"

"Since Diefenbach was hired as lead surgeon. Giffard invested a small fraction, asking only for access to a high-security cell." She looked as if her emotions were faffed.

I inquire, pointing along the corridor, "And is that whot you see Giffard and 'is sister do?"

"The nurses, too, on occasion", the tabby calico answers. "They also 'ear the other inmates cheer the two on." Not just a madhouse; a madhouse not even safe from perverts.

I must come back here tonight, to kill Diefenbach, but there is more than that. I tell Benson, "I will need find Diefenbach's office, if he has one." The calico nods. "Good. He 'as other connections that require my attention. I will need see one of 'is experiments during my search, as well. Since y-know his real boss, you should also be well aware of his drug cartel and trafficking operations."

The calico says, "Follow me again." This time, she leads me down the damp-looking corridor, to deviate to another, and we stop in front of windows to a chamber with an arch-like series of benches in a box, a tiled floor, and white walls. She states, "He does 'is experiments every night. Every individual that he tests is kept in the infirmary or operating chamber, both of which are below the ground level. Don' let 'im see you when 'e goes down there." I better be subtle, then. I have no doubt about Giffard watching Diefenbach perform his "experiments".

I change the subject, asking, "Have you a telephone?"

"Yes. In the warden's office"-

I interrupt, "Take me there." Benson gives me an awkward look before she escorts me to the other wing facing the front fence. There is silence in this corridor. One of the rooms that I pass seems to be a place for the inmates to spend time outside their cells.

The owner and warden is there in his office. He is a dog, dressed like a worker. He scratches his quill against paper, not bothering to look up. I hesitate, expecting him to protest about the presence of the vigilante. I pick up the earpiece of the telephone and begin turning the dial. I then turn the crank. He pays no attention to me as I do so. As I wait, he says, "Don' take too long. The use of that is expensive."

Just a second later, I hear the familiar voice say, "Ahoy."

I answer, "It is me."

The Glashish-accented voice jests, "Well, well, well. Twice over one week. That be more times than Death 'as called me in a month." I can just imagine Jack's toothy grin.

"The rumours about the aristo with the dope empire: what can you tell me?"

Jack sighs, "Right to it again. Of course. I know of the rumour about his taboo relationship."

I interrupt, "I can confirm that one."

"You be in the madhouse right now?!" Jack then jests, "I did say, yeh'd be mad fer pursuin' Giffard." As I do not answer, Jack continues, "Building on that, he was also believed ter 'ave an unhealthy relationship with 'is mother." I would be a numpty to forget so quickly, he thought that I was his mother. "To make 'im all the more dangerous t-you, he hates women; he disrespects them. As 'is best-known rival, a few of 'is old mistresses bought guns from me men; not just those in Knightsedge. I wouldn't be surprised if 'is one-time whores in Agnarge, Subroot, or Manusdale also bought from me men. Also, if Giffard be in the madhouse right now, Lieven cannot be far." He continues with grimness, "Please, be careful when yeh get near Lieven. He be a mad wrestler; gave a few o' me men quite the bea' in's 'imself." Could Giffard's right-hand man make Jack afraid of Giffard?

"I appreciate this Jack", I tell him sincerely. "I appreciate yer genuine concern as well. It's whot makes a good friend." I can imagine the arctic fox blushing. I would wager that arctic foxes look all the cuter to each other from that.

Jack tells me, "Cheers, Death. Yeh be a good friend, too. If I don' see yeh, I'll be 'earing from yeh."

"Right, Jack. You'll know if I make it. Cheerio." I hear Jack chuckle as I hang up.

(Where can I go now that my mother and step-father are dead? Where Clement told me to go? He provided a map among the several documents. However, the map was of an area of Ventine, which was known for its beaches. The place that was indicated on the map was near one of their beaches. There was money meant to be provided for a train ticket.

(I requested a train ticket for the money, and the receptionist did not hesitate to provide me a ticket. I had to take two trains, based on the indications of the tracks, which I was also informed of. This still raised questions about what secrets my mother and step-father had been keeping from me all my life, supposedly to die with them.

(After taking the train for hours, just to get to that one destination, I had to be nudged awake by a nice she-wolf in a business dress, to tell me that the train was slowing down. I had lost track of how many hours it had been since I had taken the second train. Per a recommendation, I had eaten prior to the ride. Why was everyone I had to buy from so nice to me?

(Summer had barely started the day I had first seen the temples of Mau-Re Sanctuary. I could not trust police to escort me to the train station, let alone that place. I had heeded Clement's orders, but on my own. I felt very light. How gobsmacked I was when I first saw the outside of the land that had been indicated. Before me was the iron gate. Before that gate was an expanse of sand and rocks as mosaics to form platforms and paths. The temple was high enough to be seen.

(I looked to the booth, to find a single cat occupying it. He asks, "Can I help you?"

(I can only tell this grown cat what had come upon me. "My mother and step-father are dead", I began sadly. "I was told that I should come to this place. That you'd help me."

(The grown cat got out of his seat and the booth, to approach me. He knelt down to level his eyes with me. He told me, "All orphans are welcome here. And there are people to help you through your loss.")

The night was dark from the clouds. Rain had begun to pour again. Perfect for this night. No one should see me tonight. However, in heading back to Agnarge Asylum, I wonder if I will leave the borough for Manusdale right away. That wondering ends as fast as it began. I cannot help everyone.

I dined with Julian and his friends, having bought fresh items with money from bounties on two dolphins wanted for kidnappings, just for the sake of those cubs. They know my intention. The first reason I came here was to gut spill the mad doctor. Knowing of the bloody mess that was made of the cultists, Julian informed me that the police do not trust the she-wolf with the golden mask. A warrant for an arrest is all the more reason for me to depart when I have finished with Diefenbach.

I am at the front gate and fence of the asylum again on the same day. It is ten when I have approached the front. However, it is not through the front door I intend to enter the building. There are open windows. It would make the place cold in the winter, especially for the inmates, but the air would be stale if not for open windows, regardless of the climate. The back of the building is where I enter. I scale the brick wall to the open window on the second level. I climb inside with one leg over the frame, and then the other. I can hear the murmuring of the inmates in this hall. This is the high-security wing, and this is the place that I intended to start at: the examination room. I stay crouched despite what little weight I have. Though dimly, the hall is lit. I peak past the doorway. Where are the guards? And the nurses?

To distract me, I approach the cell where I saw Giffard--and it is empty. If not here when affected by his own drug, where could_he_ be? I stand up straight, and face the mad patient who had the perfect view of Giffard's incestuous act. The dog in a dirty-looking white gown, says, "If y-seek that lucky wolf, yeh'll find 'im watchin' the doctor's performance." He chuckles, probably thinking about what I chose not to see Giffard and his sister do. If this dog is both a rapist and a maniac, it is a damn good thing he is locked up. I head along the corridor, hearing the dog beg, "Aw, come on, Love. Jus' lemme cup yer knockers." I take the same corridor that I know Benson has used to lead me. I should thank her personally.

To my surprise, the guards are absent here. Even in the next short hall, there are none watching. No time for that. I go where the windows are, giving me a view of a performance. I can see one. In the front row of those boxed benches, there the white wolf with the one blue eye is. He sports a white shirt and black jacket with red lapels. To his right is a badger. Not just any ordinary badger; it is the badger with the horizontal scar, and he wears a black suit, which brings out his peculiar red fur accented by the electric lights. There are other spectators that seem not so interested.

In the centre is a table occupied by a red fox, which looks young. Watching over him and probing the body through an opening in the chest is a black dog with a brown muzzle and narrow ears, perpetually raised. He wears a white linen jacket over brown trousers, white shirt, and brown tie. He a monocle for his right eye. I need no introduction from him to know who he is.

He speaks as he has his probing instrument between the fox's ribs, "As you can see, zare ees no pain wesponse. I 'ave pwobed many subjects' hearts to 'ave heard ze rate in-quease rapidly fwom vare I stand. However, ze opiate still 'as effect on ze subject's body." He slowly pulls his instrument out, revealing a peculiar blunt hook at the end. He places it on the metal tray where his other instruments are, which shows the restraints on the fox. He is not paralysed. He takes another kind of hooked item, a longer one, which he places in another opening, in the side. "I vill now try ze kidney again." His back is to me. I see him probe wherever that kidney is, but he seems to find it easily. The fox has no reaction. Now I know what he is doing. The Doberman says, "Ze kidney is supposed to ache from zis, but ze subject does not even flinch fwom ze entry." How repulsive. I want to see where the rest goes. The time of the organ being probed is short, and he says why: "I cannot take chances vit ze kidney. If I pwovoke an early evacuation of fluids, I cannot verk vit ze odours." He uses a third instrument on another opening in the chest. Diefenbach speaks, "In order get a reaction ven ze subject cannot feel pain, I must probe ze lungs." I see a slight movement of his arm, and the Doberman continues, "If I pwobe ze lungs, I can west-wict wespi-wation. By causing pwoblems vit air flow..." He pauses, letting his work speak for itself. I can see it. The fox shakes from trying and failing to breath. I can see his open maw. I cannot determine why this particular fox is being used for testing. The Doberman ends up killing the fox through probing the lung long enough. He must have penetrated it, if not broken its connection. The mad doctor speaks, "Anuzzer vaste of a life. Ze opiate makes zis kill method too easy. If you vant a patient to give zare last verds, zay must feel pain." I have seen enough now. I must hurry to the basement, knowing that Diefenbach wants another test subject as Giffard and Lieven are watching.

This seems to be easier said than done. I find myself going in a circle before I find that the doors to the front main are open. I expect them to be locked at this time of evening. The chamber happens to be filled, but it is near silent. The inmates that I can only assume are under the low security whisper among one another and make short pace courses. All of them are glad in the white gowns, but they seem clean, bar the dusty tint. I note a few guards pacing. For all I know, they could have been alerted by Giffard or Lieven. They could be innocent civilians, as well, but if I see them beat upon a nurse, I will not walk away. I casually walk down the stairs and hurry to the next door, taking me to a corridor. The corridor on this floor leads me from the main chamber to not exactly a cell block, but a sort of resting chamber, based on the two couches, each on a side of a wide plain wooden table. There are also filing cabinets, which is a good place to look. I do so. I take the one in the corner to the door where I entered. After testing the latch of the cabinet's top drawer, I quickly draw my lockpicks, and the lock easily opens. I look in the same drawer that I tested, only to find nothing of interest. So, I press the lock back, and go to one on the opposite side. I find that the drawers are labelled "Patients". So, I pick the lock on it, and start going through files from the bottom drawer, expecting those to be the latest.

Of the few files that I scan, I find that at least five of the latest residents have one thing in common: they "claim" that their mother or their sister were taken from them by criminals providing false contracts, but also taking advantage of their inability to read. The crowd in the main chamber: could they all be commissioned here by corrupt officers for calling out criminals that took their families...? I sigh at that. I cannot help everyone.

Curiosity also gets the best of me. I read into the file kept on Giffard, only to have next to nothing. I read records of when he has taken a cell. Nothing to say about his family. I put that file back where I found it, and close the drawer. I remember to press the lock before I keep looking. I cannot forget what urgency there is.

In taking another corridor, I find that a guard stands vigilant in an office. That has nothing of concern. There is no talking from him or any other nearby guard. I make sure to quietly tread the grimed floor as I approach the guard at the end of the corridor that I take. The walls look grey and gloomy from the lack of maintenance. The next guard that I find, a grey terrier, stands at the door of a chamber, and I hastily grab him. I bring my elbow, and then my fist down on the top of his head, which knocks him out. I drag him against the wall of the corridor and take his club.

This chamber that I enter looks pale-blue from the electricity coming from the machines. There are a few empty beds. I find complex looking machines, or just one massive machine on the side. On the other side is a long, black table and white cabinets above. Many gears grind to a boiler, keeping coloured fluids hot, but also seeming to charge another machine that two dogs are using on an individual. Only to avoid being seen heading down the stairs at the end of the chamber, I approach them first, to slam their heads against each other. I leave the baton that I took, on the dog that was shocked.

Upon reaching the subsurface floor, I see the tiled walls looking beige, as if it is even older. The very second I am off the stairs, the stench of decay fills my nostrils. It is so bad that I cover my nose as I tread the tiled floor, which also feels grimed. I stop at the first turn, listening carefully for footsteps, and there are, though faint. I peek over before running to the next corner. I dash again to a small division of the corridor. Just by peeking, I see that a lift is there. And a guard awaits. However, I have an opportunity to go unnoticed if Diefenbach is to use the lift. Why has he not come down yet? Is he aware of my presence? I still subdue the guard by hitting his head against the wall. I leave the unconscious dog in a bin of laundry. I then go in the chamber outside of which that guard has stood. This chamber could only be an infirmary, but it might also be a prison. The ones occupying the wheeled cots are all starkers, and are bound to them. They are more than aware; they are afraid, from the whimpering and the murmuring. Getting a close look at one, cat that is afraid of me, is skinny enough for the flesh seeming so delicate that the bones could pierce from inside.

I wait behind a curtain for the thug blatantly not working here. I quickly draw my left Khopesh, which I used to slash up his back, making him groan in pain. I hastily slash the back of his neck, making him fall. I catch the thug's limp body, which I drag to the back.

As I sheathe my Khopesh, I look through the cabinets and find just what I need. The documents that I scan are not just letters, but the hint of where he gets his subjects. What almost all his late subjects have in common was that he ordered them from someone named Derrickson. In Subroot. He keeps a log of his experiments, going into atrocious detail of each process. I note the chart on the wall, which has my attention. I refer to that chart, which has spots for levels of a body, and I compare it to the organs to which he has referred. His log also includes records of durations. His record of keeping a victim alive whilst inflicting all possible pain is twenty-three hours. With Giffard or Lieven watching--maybe both--the slowest time that he has taken before killing a drugged victim during his probing is five minutes. Not just a sadist. If devil spawns existed, Diefenbach would be one.

I pocket Diefenbach's letters and logbook. I take every page that I can carry, which I put in my pockets. In doing so, I hear the familiar voice say something that I cannot understand, but make out as something impatient and I turn around. There the Doberman is, entering the infirmary. I dash toward him, drawing my Khopeshes and he draws his gun. Instintively, I swipe my left Khopesh upward, slashing his right arm. So, he loses grip of his pistol. He groans, but cannot process the pain before I kick him, backing him against a wall. In a scissor motion, I slash both Khopeshes, which makes him cough blood. In a reverse-scissor motion, I slash him again. I leap backwards before the lower half of his body falls forward. His upper half is already sprawled on the tiled floor, his intestines and kidneys having spilled out. His blood has created a puddle on the tail of his coat. Jack, I hope to be the first to tell you that Diefenbach is dead.

I sheathe my Khopeshes, and I hesitate. Where can these innocents go, naked and starving? I wish I could help everyone. I follow the instinct to undo the restraints and guide them from the basement and to the door out of the wing. There are six of them: three cats, two rabbits, and a squirrel. There is no rain right now. So, they need not worry about getting sick.

Where I lead them is to a random house, which they gladly take for the night. They are in one of the houses like a partially-muscled skeleton, which sounds empty, for I can hear no one else breathing. To keep these innocents warm, I light the fireplace and leave them all the letters that I have pocketed. I advise them to burn it all. All six of them gather in front of the fireplace with the house's previous owners' blankets wrapped around them. Immediately after starting the fire, I open Diefenbach's journal and toss it in the fire.

I tell them, "I have no intention to stay in Agnarge. Not fer another night." They all look at me with worry. "I've my own business. I've no more reason to stay now that Diefenbach is dead."

One of the cats, a white shorthair, says, "Is a man named Derrickson part of that? He was the one t-keep us captive and give us to Diefenbach. Drugs, too."

I answer, "I assure you, I will kill him, too."

One of the rabbits asks, "But how will we survive?"

The same cat objects, "My friends and I will eat the rats on the street if we have to."

The other rabbit retorts, "Not oll of us eat meat."

Oh, how I hate that I see this as an option. "There's a white fox named Jack MacNiadh, in Knightsedge. If you work fer 'im, you kin take yer anger out on thugs working fer 'is rival."

The second cat, a female ginger cat, asks, "You suggest working against the Lowell House?"

The white cat interjects, "It may be our only option."

I tell them, "I could have left you oll behind but I did not. If you were to be taken back to where you were brought, I could not let it be so easy. And I could stay fer longer, but I cannot help everyone." It hurts even more to say it. I look into the fire, seeing that the pages have blackened and shrivelled. No such monster as Diefenbach deserves a legacy.