A houndish wail wove in the background of a brick wall covered slightly by loose splotches of paint. Her desk rested idly near a seamless doorway that was opposite the poorly painted wall. The sounds racked against the wall, threatening to crumble the old foundations to dust, yet this place had seen horrors. One could hear it in each individual brick, attempting to mask such a wicked history. 

Harsh questions blurted out across a tired face. The grind of chains cried from a blunt strike's echo, followed by more questions. Each one unanswered produced worse sounds. A sob trailed from behind a yell, one that was both angry and pointed. Katharina smirked as she lit the end of a cigarette hanging from her lips. She looked at the hands on her pocket watch, tapping her foot almost in sync with the passing seconds. Her pace was slower than the incessant metronome guiding every movement, keeping every action in sync that all moved with.

"I'm growing tired of hearing the same story over and over again," she muttered to herself. "They never learn. I've told them hundreds of times, you won't get anything out of anyone until you start using more leverage."

The sharp snap of bone breaking into splinters rattled the sickening pause arid silence had filled. A curdling scream erupted from beyond the doorway and a thin smile crept upon her lips. Finally, the end of her smoke caught and she drew in a deep breath.  Sweet fumes lingered around her face, framing her in a misty haze. She forced herself off the wall and knocked hard on the door.  It opened almost instantaneously to reveal a squat man whose hands and clothes held the decayed scent of blood. His face had been stamped merciless by time. Old age had worn his skin papery thin, but there was a grotesque strength in him that strung him on. 

"So the prodigal daughter returns," he surmised, more tired and bored. 

"I was making sure you were getting the information I required," laughed Katharina. "Edward is the prodigy. I'm the adopted disappointment."

"My apologies, miss," humored the man. "I'll remember to address your properly next time."

"What did he say?" she asked, walking down the taught, dim corridor. A scent of old sweat and fear mingled together, coming from the rancid cells that began to line their sides. Distraught figures half-dead, clinging to a shred of fading hope, peered at them as they walked by. What soul had been in them was absent, long since deprived from their body, if they had even had one upon entering this place. 

"He gave the usual," replied the squat man. "Names, locations we already know, but not what we are after."

"How many more do you have back there?" she laughed.

"Enough to eventually find it," he spat. "One of them surely will know. We caught a rather big batch of them after the incident in London."

"Good," Katharina admonished. "Where's the one you were just speaking to?"

He gave a curt nod, leading the way further down the rank corridor. More cells appeared on both sides, some bars remaining locked permanently by the rust growing over welded seals. Most bodies in those cells didn't stir, didn't move, and her gaze wandered upon each one. The stench became worse the deeper they went. The cobble flooring was wet with a slick grime. Moss grew in patches closer to the cells, underneath the vertical cell bars. 

"He's fairly over the edge, if you catch my meaning, madame," added the man.

"Stop that, Ewald," spat Katharina. "I'm not a madame. I don't ascribe to such a worthless, petty title meant for pretty little girls that are meant to be seen and not heard. Katharina will do."

"Apologies, Katharina," nodded Ewald. 

"Dispose of him then," she sighed, rubbing her brow. Her nose twitched. Ewald gave a confused look as response, unsure if she was speaking at him directly. 

"Apologies again, ma..Katharina, but when I say he's over the edge, he's well and truly mentally broken," Ewald noted, more as an apology. A hunch came over him, replacing the once aloof upright man that had greeted her. His movements crumbled from surety to an eagerness to please. 

"Then there's no use keeping him any longer," she said, drawing a revolver from her hip. She marched to the cell and sharp snap echoed throughout the maze like chambers. A soft smell of hot copper and burnt hair filled the room, more potent as to be almost intoxicating. "I'll expect better answers in two days time," ordered Katharina.

"As you wish," said Ewald. "That will be slightly hard though. That was the last of the Gryphons we had."

"Do what you can then and make good use of those 48 hours you have left," Katharina nodded, stamping out her cigarette on the ground. "A replacement will be here to relieve you of your duties afterwards." 

"I've served your father for years," he protested, bits of spit flying from his mouth. His yes widened revealing bloodshot veins the pulsed with the veins in his head that were near bursting with fury. "Well before you were even a thought in his mind. If he was here, he'd be just as outraged as I am right now. You think you have any say over what I can and cannot do?"

"Yes, I do," she laughed. "I'm in control now. He has no say in this business and I'm not my father."

Ewald made to protest, but Katharina was gone before he could even utter a word. A poor old man was left alone with his mouth agape. The strength that once supported his frame now hindered it further and he moved back to his work, sluggish and tired. 

"Two days," a giggling whisper echoed back to him followed by the loud thud of a door being slammed.