Gunther shivered as Brigit told her story, wrapping his arms around her in an effort to comfort her.  "The man who called himself your father, what did you do with his heart?"  He asked, finding himself genuinely impressed that the girl was as sane as she was.  Of course, a decent acid applied evenly over the skin might just...  He shook his head, trying to get such crazy notions out of his mind.<br/><br/>He heard footsteps coming softly towards the room, but decided he could safely ignore them as just another hallucination.  The basement was spooky, and one simply needed to focus only on his companions to stay sane.  Gunther's eyes strayed over to a nearby table with straps on it, and he could almost see a younger Brigit strapped to it being torn to pieces.  He began to shake, realizing that he was having trouble NOT picturing it, especially with Brigit's body and scars so obvious to him.