<strong>Abandoned Warehouse on 104th Street</strong><br/><br/>Claws was a distinct possibility; it certainly made as much sense as anything else.  What seemed truly strange, however, was that the jagged slices were large and distinct with this man, but the dying woman had vast, tiny cuts which worked more at yanking out the guts, intestines and organs.<br/><br/>As she worked, it was harder and harder to shake the feeling that whatever did this was simply playing with these people, taking its sweet time and torturing these people.  Perhaps its delight in keeping them alive for as long as possible was the only thing which allowed two of the three to be saved.<br/><br/>"I've already set things up for long-term care for them, but the facilities won't be available until tomorrow morning."  Mr. Brand nodded his appreciation that she was planning head, but everything was under control.<br/><br/>Allan finished everything up soon after, the various bandages and ointments more hiding the damage than doing any short-term good, and grabbed the briefcase.  As he started to leave, though, he glanced over towards Mary, tossing her a look that he needed to talk to her.  If Mr. Brand noticed the glance, he paid no attention.  Very close attention showed that Mr. Brand's hands were quivering.